I knew what he was asking. I nodded a second time. “Yes, Andrew. I was glad you had the friendship you had growing up. I bet that helped you to endure the hardships.”
“And being different?” he asked, eyeing me as if he could stare my thoughts from my brain.
I nodded again, shoved the rest of my cake to the side, and drank some lemonade. “Yes, he told me about being a pooka, Andrew.”
Timothy had been studiously eating his big piece of cake. He didn’t seem interested in adding anything or indicating that this chat might go south. He carefully kept his eyes on the small plate with part of his cake still sat.
“And how do you feel about it?” Andrew asked. “Do you want to go home and run away from the difference?”
Timothy looked up then, growled, and put his fork down. His plate was empty, so it wasn’t like he’d lost his appetite and stopped eating. I think he was waiting to see what I’d say, but a bit irritated by Andrew’s wording. But, I wondered. Was Andrew’s predictable question why Timothy had brought me to see Andrew? Was this my opportunity to run screaming into the night, so to speak?
“I think I’m still percolating the whole thing,” I said. “I need time to figure out if this will work. I mean, it’s not like you two are human. That’s a hard thing to accept, you know?”
Andrew nodded. “I’m not sure if that’s true, Penelope. Maybe a pooka is a cross between a Fairie and a human. Or it could be that a pooka is an earlier branch of humanity. You look at the two of us. Do you see anything strange? Doesn’t that make you think that he and I are as much a product of nature as any of the rest of this wide world of diversity? I’m just saying that you shouldn’t cross us out of your comfort zone because there might be something different about us.”
Andrew was someone that I decidedly liked. I’d thought so before from my brief interchanges with him, but after our cake eating session, I was more sure than ever. He was a kind person. I could read that in his eyes, and I liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The fact that he was gorgeous, of course, had nothing to do with it. Even if he’d been the ugliest ogre in the world, I think I’d have wanted to be his friend.
“Thank you. I appreciate your saying those things,” I told him. “I’ll put that inside the rest of the magic box that contains everything I’ve learned.”