10. Olivia

I had leftAva”s place with a clear mission: get the house ready for dinner with my adoptive parents. The whole day had been a blur of scrubbing, tidying, and double-checking every corner of each room until it was just right. I moved through the motions mechanically, set on making the evening as perfect as possible. When it came to cooking, though, I slowed down and took my time. Magic could”ve done it in a snap, but this needed to be special – Mom”s stuffed shells, her recipe, no shortcuts. And garlic bread, from scratch, because nothing else would do. Not tonight.

The living room was quiet except for the occasional shuffle of feet or murmur of voices. Sam, Sammie, Devin, Jessica, and Phira were all there, an assembly of nerves and anticipation. I”d fussed over their outfits like a director prepping actors for an opening night. Sammie, bless his heart, looked like a miniature executive in his suit, while Jessica”s face told me she”d rather be wearing anything but that flowery dress.

”Looking sharp.” I tried to smile, but the butterflies in my stomach were doing cartwheels.

”Mom, this tie is itchy,” Sammie complained, tugging at the silk noose around his neck.

”Keep it on, just a little longer,” I pleaded. ”Please, baby.”

It was almost time. Any minute now...

Lucifer chose that moment to appear, predictably late and unconcerned. He sauntered into the kitchen, eyeing the food with interest. I caught the twinkle in his eye just as he reached for the stuffed shells. Instinctively, I swatted his hand away with the spatula.

”Ouch. That hurt.” he said, more surprised than pained.

”Where have you been?” I demanded, trying not to raise my tone too much.

”We had a meeting in Hell. It went long. What?” He brushed off the question, licking his fingertip.

”My parents are on their way, they”ll be here any minute,” I said, urgency creeping into my tone.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, amusement playing across his features. ”Phira and I are your parents.”

”Stop it, you know what I mean.” I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice. ”They were at Ava”s house the other night, and they know about magic now. I told them to come for dinner so that I could explain everything to them and—” The doorbell echoed through the house, cutting me off mid-sentence.

”Fine,” Lucifer muttered, stepping back.

I yanked off my apron and chucked it at Lucifer. ”You better be on your best behavior,” I warned.

He caught the apron, smirking in that way that both infuriated and amused me. Before he could retort, the doorbell rang again, persistent, and impossible to ignore. I straightened my blouse and hurried through the living room to the foyer so I could open the door.

”Mom. Dad.” I greeted them, trying to sound as calm as possible while my heart raced.

Their eyes went wide as they stepped inside, taking in the grandeur of the entryway I had grown accustomed to. Their gazes swept over the polished floors, the lavish decor, and the high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings.

”Wow, Olivia, this place,” my mom started, trailing off as she searched for words.

”Come in, come in,” I urged, leading them into the living room.

They entered the space where Sam, Sammie, Devin, Jessica, Luci and Phira were all lined up, resembling characters from The Sound of Music, poised and painfully formal. My mom glanced down at her casual attire, a blush creeping across her cheeks.

”I didn”t realize this was going to be such a fancy occasion,” she murmured.

A chuckle escaped me despite the knot in my stomach. ”I was just nervous about everything we have to talk about,” I confessed, hoping my laughter sounded more genuine than it felt. ”It isn”t fancy, not really.”

My mom turned to me, her expression softening. ”Oh honey, you”re my baby girl. We”ll get through this,” she assured, enveloping me in a comforting embrace.

”Thanks, Mom,” I whispered, allowing myself a moment of vulnerability in her arms.

”PopPop. Meme.” Sammie, barreling into the embrace of my parents. Their laughter filled the room, warming it more than any fireplace could.

”Everyone, this is Lucifer,” I said, gesturing to him with a slight nod, and then to Phira, ”and this is Phira.”

”Nice to meet you both,” Mom said, offering a polite smile as she took them in. Dad had barely spoken, but he was a very quiet man, anyway.

”Shall we?” I motioned towards the dining room. ”Dinner”s ready.”

We hadn”t used the formal dining room much before; it always seemed too grand for just us. But tonight, the long table was set, the crystal gleamed, and the silverware lay perfectly aligned. The chandelier cast a soft glow over everything, making the gold accents in the room shimmer.

As they took their seats, I caught my parents” expressions—eyes wide, mouths slightly agape. It was like they”d stepped into a royal banquet hall. I tried to read their faces, hoping they weren”t overwhelmed by the opulence.

”Please, start without me,” I insisted, already turning back to the kitchen. My hands were steady as I lifted the tray of stuffed shells, but my heart wasn”t.

Phira rose gracefully from her seat. ”Let me help you with that.”

”No, it”s okay.” The words came out sharper than I intended, driven by nerves. ”I”ve got it.”

I returned with the salad next, the bowl large and heavy but manageable. Then the bread. I could feel everyone watching me each time I left the room. Silence fell in my absence. It wasn”t the quiet of anticipation for the meal, but all the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

”Olivia, it looks wonderful,” Mom said, sounding cheerful as I placed the last dish on the table. At the same time she kept looking from me to Phira like she had noticed just how much I looked like Phira. Not identical, but we had several similar facial features.

”Thanks,” I whispered.

”Everything”s homemade,” I added before I darted back to the kitchen, attempting to sound proud, though what I really felt was an anxious desire for them to understand why tonight had to be perfect.

Balancing a second tray of garlic bread, I maneuvered through the dining room doorway. My foot caught an unseen obstacle, thin air, probably, and for a split second, everything slowed down. The bread launched into the air, two slices pirouetting gracefully before landing on the polished floor.

”Oh, Olivia.” Mom was up in an instant, scooping the fallen pieces and placing them back onto the tray as if they were wounded soldiers. She didn”t even flinch at the sacrilege of floor-touched food mingling with the untouched. Then she put the tray on the table and was wrapping me in a bear hug so tight I could barely breathe.

”Mom,” I managed to gasp, but it came out muffled against her shirt. Over her head, my eyes met Phira”s. Her smile was like sunlight breaking through clouds, no judgment, just warmth. It was clear; she didn”t mind this embrace between mother and daughter.

”Sit down.” Mom released me and fixed me with a look that brokered no argument.

”But the tea—” I protested weakly.

”I”ll get it. You”ve done enough.”

Before I could counter, Phira stood up. ”I”ll help,” she said, extending a hand to Mom. ”I”m Phira.”

”Claire,” Mom replied, shaking her hand with a brief, polite smile.

I collapsed into my chair, flanked by Dad and Lucifer. They each laid a comforting hand on mine, their quiet support grounding me. That”s when it happened. The absurdity of the evening hit me like a thunderclap. I started giggling uncontrollably.

Sam gave me a sideways glance, his tie looking like it might pop off any moment. Sammie, oblivious to the tension, was shoveling shells into his mouth with gusto. Devin and Jessica couldn”t contain themselves either. They joined in the laughter, creating a chorus of chuckles that filled the room.

”Family dinners, huh?” Sam muttered, loosening his tie with a sigh of relief.

The clink of porcelain on wood echoed as the two moms returned, hands full with a tray carrying a large jug of tea and an assortment of cups. I straightened up in my seat, cleared my throat, and met the stairs of everyone seated at the table.

”Okay, everything out in the open,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt. ”This is my biological father, Lucifer. And that”s my biological mother, Phira. This is my adoptive mother, Claire, and this is my adoptive father, Gordon.” I watched their faces for signs of shock or disbelief. ”Yes, Lucifer is the devil. King of Hell. Fallen angel. The whole nine yards.” I paused, letting that sink in. ”Phira is fae.”

Claire placed the big jug of tea down on the table and slowly sank into her chair. ”The devil? Fae?”

”Yep,” I said, nodding. My heart thrummed in my chest, but I kept my tone light. ”That”s the biggest bombshells to drop. I am half fae, half...” I turned to Lucifer, searching his face for any hint of what label I should use. ”Devil? Angel? What?” I asked.

Lucifer”s lips quirked into a sly smile. ”Think of yourself as a minor god. Goddess if you prefer.”

I let out a shaky laugh, looking back at Mom and Dad. Their expressions were unreadable, but I pushed on. ”So there you go. That”s what I am.”

Dad gave me another reassuring pat, while Mom reached for her cup, her motions slow, deliberate. The room was heavy with unspoken thoughts and questions. Oh, man. I hoped I”d done the right thing by laying it all out like this.

Dad”s eyes, despite his pat of comfort, were now hard, unreadable. Mom cleared her throat and asked, ”What does this mean for you, Olivia?”

”Life”s different,” I admitted. ”Since finding out about...everything, my powers have been unlocked. It”s like waking up one day to find out you”ve got a whole new set of senses.”

Jessica piped up from across the table, eager to shift some attention away from my trembling hands. ”When Mom”s powers got unlocked, ours did too. Mine, Devin”s, and Sammie”s. We”re all learning what it means to be Fae.”

”Speaking of learning curves,” Sam said, leaning forward with a half-smirk. His fangs glinted briefly under the dining room light. ”I”m a vampire.”

Claire gasped, her hand flying to her chest. She grabbed her napkin and fanned herself, her breath coming in short bursts. ”This is a lot to take in.”

I reached across the table, trying to offer some solace with my touch. ”I”m just glad you were there to see magic was real with everyone else. Imagine having to absorb the entire paranormal world at once.”

”No, no,” Claire interrupted, planting her hands firmly on the table as if trying to steady herself against the tide of revelations. ”This is quite enough to be getting on with for now.”

”Let”s just eat and give it a moment,” Lucifer suggested, gesturing to the dishes spread out on the table. We all settled into our seats, the clinking of cutlery replacing the tension with a sort of domestic normalcy. As we ate, I caught my dad”s gaze softening from their stony gaze, and mom”s curiosity bubbled over.

”How long will you live?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of fear and wonder.

”I”m immortal,” I said, swallowing a mouthful of garlic bread. ”As in, forever.”

”Sam,” Dad interjected with a nod towards my husband, ”do you have to, well, drink blood?”

Sam set down his fork, his face calm. ”Yes, sir, but not directly from people. I get what I need without harming anyone.”

Mom let out a relieved sigh, but before she could relax completely, she turned to Phira with a furrowed brow. ”I have to ask. Why would you give up Olivia for adoption, only to come back now?”

Phira looked at her, eyes shimmering with old pain. ”My father didn”t approve of Lucifer. After Olivia was born, he locked me away in the Inbetween. It”s not a place for fae. It”s for witches who pass on. A sort of purgatory for them.”

”Ava”s family helped with the adoption,” I chimed in, eager to bridge the connection. ”They live right across the field.”

Mom nodded, recognition spreading on her face. ”Oh, Ava,” she murmured. She reached across the table to squeeze Phira”s hand. ”I”m sorry for your suffering...but thank you. You gave us our incredible daughter.”

”Thank you for loving her so well, for raising her when I couldn”t,” Phira responded, returning the squeeze.

Tears glistened in my mom”s eyes, and I could see decades lifting from Phira”s shoulders. The dining room was silent for a moment. It felt like the whole world had paused.

”Who wants cake?” I blurted out, desperate to dissolve the thick emotion that hung in the air.

”Absolutely,” Mom said, rising from her chair with a determined look. ”But only if you let me get it, Olivia. I don”t trust you not to drop it.”

Laughter bubbled up from around the table, light, and freeing. Dad chuckled, shaking his head at Mom’s gentle jab. Even Lucifer cracked a smile, and Sam relaxed as he joined in the laughter.

”Fair enough,” I conceded, a smile tugging at my own lips. ”But for the record, I haven’t dropped anything else today.”

”Let”s keep it that way.” Mom winked and began to move toward the kitchen, her steps sure and motherly.