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I smiled as Percy opened the front door to his mom and Mr. Blofis’s Manhattan apartment, the scent of freshly baked cookies greeting us warmly. Percy stood aside to let me walk in first, and Mr. Blofis was there to greet us immediately.
“Percy, Annabeth, so good to see you both,” he said as Percy shut the door behind himself.
“It’s good to see you, too,” said Percy, smiling at the man he had once teasingly, but now affectionately, dubbed Mr. Blowfish.
Percy helped me shrug my coat off, leaving me in a light sweater as I disentangled myself from my scarf. Camp Halfblood never had problems with weather, but Manhattan certainly did. As it progressed into December, it was getting colder and colder in New York City. It started snowing lightly this morning, so Percy and I had bundled ourselves up because we wanted to walk—it seemed pointless to take a cab, since lived only two blocks away.
Percy undid his own jacket and pulled it off, hanging it up by the door. He had a gray pullover on, which offset his green eyes quite strikingly. His black hair was tousled and filled with tiny flakes of melting snow. I quickly ran my fingers through my own blonde locks, in all of their damp, tangled glory, and decided to just tie them up in a messy bun on top of my head with the hair tie I had around my wrist. Percy smiled at me as our urgency brought on by the slightly below-freezing temperature outside faded into calmness now that we were greeted by the comfort of the heater in Sally and Paul’s apartment.
Mrs. Jackson came into the living room, having heard us, and wrapped her arms affectionately around Percy. She was alight with the glow of pregnancy, her baby bump protruding from her body in a significantly beautiful way.
When she let go of her son, she came to me and embraced me warmly, kissing my cheek before she parted from me. “How are you both?”
“We’re good,” said Percy.
“Yes, we’re doing really well,” I added, subtly knocking Percy’s grammar.
He glanced over at me sideways, a teasing glare in his eyes. I bit my lip to try to keep from smiling at him.
“Good,” Sally said, and there was quiet relief in her voice. I momentarily thought of the times when she and I would cry together when Percy was gone and we didn’t so much as know whether or not he was alive. After everything that happened, everything we were put through, it made sense for her to be thankful that there was reprieve. Percy and I were grateful for it, too. Sally cleared her throat. “Paul and I were wondering if you were going to come over on Christmas morning at least.”
“Of course we will,” I said. “The only thing we absolutely have to do is see Tyson. He managed to get some time away from the Cyclopes army to visit with us, but it won’t be for long. And then Piper and Jason are throwing a small Christmas party later in the day—we don’t need to go to that, though, if you’d rather have us here.”
“Oh, no, you certainly should go to the party,” she responded. “We just wanted to make sure we could see you for a little bit, since this is going to be the last Christmas before the baby comes. Who knows what things will be like when she’s around? Paul and I might have to spend all of our time caring for her.”
Percy laughed. “You should just be thankful that she’s not going to be a demigod, Mom. I think I’ve put you through more than the baby ever will.”
“We can only hope,” Mrs. Jackson said, but she was smiling. A timer went off in the kitchen. “I have to get the cookies out of the oven—why don’t you two go see the baby’s room? We’ve gotten a lot of progress done on it since the last time you guys were here.”
Sally left the living room, going in the direction of the kitchen.
“What, a week ago?” asked Percy.
Mr. Blofis chuckled. “Yes, we’ve been hard at work. We don’t want to procrastinate and be unprepared. That’s a good lesson that being a teacher has taught me. I used to be a very heavy procrastinator, but after watching all of my students panic the day before essays are due or trying to cram weeks’ worth of studying into the five minutes before the bell rings and the test starts, I’ve stopped allowing myself to do that.”
I thought about it for a moment. “You know, I’ve never had a problem with procrastinating. But then again, I am a daughter of Athena.”
“I would have loved to have you as a student,” Percy’s stepfather told me. “Percy, on the other hand, you know I love you, but—”
“But I would’ve called you Mr. Blowfish in class and the nickname would have followed you to your grave, so you’d spend every day drowning in students accidentally calling you Mr. Blowfish to your face because they did it so often around your back. And, eventually, it would get so bad that your colleagues would start slipping up and calling you that as well—since you have to admit, it’s pretty dam catchy—and it would interfere greatly with your daily life,” said Percy.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Paul laughed.
“Although, you know, I’m sure other people call your Mr. Blowfish. They just haven’t been caught yet,” Percy told him.
“I hope it will be awhile before I catch someone calling me that. I don’t mind it from you, but having students call me Mr. Blowfish every day for six class periods might get a tad exhausting.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” said Percy, going back to the coat he had hung up. He dug something out of the pocket. “We have a couple of Christmas presents for both you and Mom that we’ll give to you on the actual day, but I wanted to give this to you now.”
Percy walked over to his stepfather and handed him a little stuffed animal. It was a blowfish. A blue one, to be exact. Mr. Blofis took the present, appearing a bit stunned.
“Annabeth made it,” said Percy, glancing over at me and smiling. “Neither of us really knew how to sew, but Annabeth was able to figure it out from pictures in a sewing book—she’s much smarter than I am, which I’m sure you know, and since we can’t read very well because of our severe dyslexia, we had to come up with alternative ways of learning it. We started working on it a couple of months ago when I thought of it, and I helped a little bit, but Annabeth did most of the work.”
“Percy’s selling himself short. He did a lot of the work,” I offered.
Paul smiled widely, and I could almost swear there were the little beginnings of tears swelling in his eyes. “Thank you both very much. I love it. I really do.”
“We’re going to go check out the baby’s room now—I just wanted to be able to give you that first,” said Percy.
They smiled at each other for a moment: a father and son, the normal type of father that Percy deserved to have in his life. Then, I followed Percy down the hallway and into the baby’s room. Sally and Paul had certainly been at work in here. The walls were a nice, calming tan color, and a crib was set up in the corner. There was already a baby monitor sitting on a small, pink dresser, and there were rosy pastel curtains hanging over the window looking out onto the city. Like homage to Percy, there was also a framed picture of the sea placed on the left wall, the only adornment thus far.
I noticed Percy’s grin when his eyes caught hold of the picture, and he turned to me and said, “What do you think?”
“About what?” I asked.
“Kids,” he elaborated. “Do you want any?”
“Maybe,” I answered. “Do you?”
“I think so,” said Percy. “I know most demigods don’t live long enough to have children, so we would be some of the few—and who knows what the child would end up as? It could be a mortal, or because both of us are so, well, powerful, it might be a halfblood.”
“There are a lot of unknown variables in that,” I said a little bit nervously. “In a few years”— I didn’t say it, of course, but I was thinking it: if we were both still alive—“since I want to wait until we’re older than twenty-three to have children, we could start trying. It might be nice to have kid.”
“Might be nice?” Percy repeated with raised eyebrows and a smile.
“You know what I mean, Seaweed Brain,” I said. “I’m just worried that the child could end up with no powers but still have our dyslexia and ADHD, or it would have our powers and be a target for monsters. But there’s always Camp Halfblood, isn’t there?”
“Yes, there is. And you know that the powers dilute with each generation. They might just be able to see through the Mist. We don’t have to talk about it seriously right now. I just wanted to know if it was a possibility.”
I smiled. “It is certainly a possibility.”
I walked over to the window and drew open the curtains. Gray light poured into the room. It was snowing lightly outside; it felt like the Christmas season, and I could finally breathe and relax. I had time to sit back and study now, to learn more about architecture and work out what I realistically wanted to do beyond being a demigod. And I could enjoy the holidays with Percy, alongside his family and our friends. It was nice. Really, really nice. The city had taken on a sparkling, crystalline look in the steeliness of winter, and I loved it.
Percy came up to me and turned me around, kissing me soundly in the dulled light. It was a soft and sweet kiss, not too desperate or hungry, but gentle and tender. It let me know that he treasured me, and that he believed we were safe now. That we could have this future we were starting to talk about.
“We should go back out there,” I told him when we parted.
Percy smiled, pressing his lips to mine once more, quickly and lovingly. “I love you, Wise Girl.”
“I love you too, Seaweed Brain.”
Hand in hand, we went into the dining room with Paul and Sally, sitting with them at the table as Mr. Blofis showed his wife the present Percy and I made him. We ate Mrs. Jackson’s trademark blue cookies as she admired our handiwork.
And just as we were about to leave, when the day was bordering on night, she pulled me into her arms and whispered, “Thank you for being the best daughter-in-law I could ever ask for. Merry Christmas, Annabeth.”