“After all that?” Beholden said, smirking. “I am surprised that you have not already scheduled something.”
“I am so dreadfully busy, Beholden. You know that.”
“You spent yesterday afternoon lounging in the auditorium trying every kind of kettle corn you could find on the exchange.”
-She sat up straightly, staring at her partner like she was some alien creature, something too dense to understand the importance of kettle corn. “Yes. Busy.”
+She sat up straight, staring at her partner like she was some alien creature, something too dense to understand the importance of kettle corn. “Yes. Busy.”
As A Finger Pointing and Beholden finally got around to whipping up lunch for themselves, the conversation once more fell into comfortable chatter, the sort of banter that so often filed the house, and while, by the time her appointment arrived, Motes had not yet felt comfortable enough to refer to them as ‘ma’ and ‘Bee’, that welcoming sense of family had returned in force, and she felt once more in her comforting role as their Dot, their dóttir.