Waiting for the Moon

Selena looked up. 'Truly? I do not believe I have had bread pudding. Perhaps we shall try it sun. Soon."

Ian rolled his eyes and took a sip of the weak, tasteless brew. "You shouldn't indulge her sick fantasies, you know."

Maeve's smile faded. She closed her mouth abruptly and hugged the animal to her chest, rocking it frantically.

Selena turned to him. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You're encouraging her to be mad. She should be alone in her room when she's like this."

"She would be in her room too much."

"So she would."

Selena stared at him. Slowly she put her cup down, but she didn't look away.

Ian shifted uncomfortably. "What are you looking at?"

"You made her stop smiling."

He snorted. "I often have that effect."

Selena frowned. "That is not something to be proud

of."

"I didn't say I was proud of it. I said I often have that effect on my mother. It's the simple truth."

She bit down on her lower lip. "I do not think it is so simple."

He set the teacup down with a clatter. "I guess I should leave. I'm spoiling the party."

"How would it hurt you to pretend?"

He looked down at her, struck once again by the in-

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nocence in her gaze. She didn't understand him, didn't understand the world, or the history of pain that coiled around him and his mother. All she knew was that he had a choice-he could hurt his mother, or he could not hurt his mother. And she couldn't imagine why he would choose the former.

It made him feel small and petty and ugly, the innocence in her eyes. She worshipped him, had from the moment she'd first seen him, and now he was proving to her how unworthy he was of that honor.

Part of him was glad, relieved to be rid of the burden of her expectations. But part of him was unaccountably saddened. As if a great opportunity were slipping through his fingers, right now as he sat at this tiny table in the middle of the forest, an opportunity he'd never imagined, never dared to hope for. And all he had to do was reach out and take hold of it....

"What do you want from me, Selena?"

"I want you to stay."

So simple an answer. Black and white. Good or bad. Stay or leave. There was no gray for Selena, no acceptable level of rudeness, no tolerable pain. There was only right and wrong.

He wished to hell he could find that innocence within himself again, that long-lost moral core.

"Just say yes," she whispered, encouraging him with a smile.

So easy . . .

With an awkward smile, he scooted closer into the table. His knees hit the wooden rim and raided the china.

Maeve's head snapped up. "It is Ian." She looked around. "Nurse, his teeth are coming in. Soothe him."