The Beautiful Mother

                                    

                                          
          In French the word for step-mother was "la belle mère" which literally means the beautiful mother in English. It was this form of respect that Hazel and Nico were now to show to Persephone. "She's only ten years older than us!" Nico complained to Hazel one day. "We shouldn't have to call her that."
                          
      He didn't complain as much to his father as he had previously. Hades was enamored with his new bride and Persephone seemed to transform into something different under his yoke. Her flaxen-colored hair, lightened by the sun, grew darker and her skin paled in the wan winter sun. Her mother, Demeter, noticed these changes and came by the house frequently to chastise Hades on how his treatment of his wife.
                          
    One evening Hades invited Demeter and her son Ploutos over for dinner. Hazel and Persephone had been busy all day cooking for them and the result was that the house was fragrant with the smell of fresh bread and lentil stew. The di Angelo family couldn't afford the costly spices imported from India that Lord Dare and his family enjoyed, but they used herbs dried from the summer: rue, tansy, and hyssop. The aromatic smell made even Demeter smile slightly. 
                          
    Her son, Ploutos, pronounced their hospitality as good as any. "A nice, warm meal and good conversation," he said. "What more can a man ask for?"
                          
     He was two years younger than his sister Persephone, but unmarried with flaxen-colored hair and gleaming eyes. He'd been approached by several families hoping to make a match for their daughters, but he declined every offer, saying he preferred to care for his widowed mother. This afforded Demeter more freedom than most woman; her son respected her greatly and seemed content to plow the earth and share tips on how to sow crops and battle weevils. "Hades, if I may offer you some advice," Ploutos said at one point. 
                          
     Hades narrowed his eyes, but then nodded in assent. Perhaps it was his coloring or his cheerful disposition, but something about Ploutos reminded Nico of Will. "Your wheat yield could be improved if you have your plow looked at," Ploutos said. "It could use some sharpening and oiling and I know you don't own an oxen, but you could borrow one from someone else. I would be glad to lend one of mine."
                          
    Hades nodded. "I've been meaning to do that eventually. Honestly, I've been meaning to do a lot."
                          
      "And you never do," Demeter said.
                          
      The room went quiet. Hazel glanced nervously from Hades to Demeter. Her father's face was livid and his lips curled in the beginnings of a snarl. Demeter's face was rigid with anger and her lip thinned as she gazed at her son-in-law. Persephone looked between the two of them, her eyes wide and anxious. "Husband, Mother," she said, using her sweetest voice. "Surely we can discuss this another time?"
                          
     Demeter shook her head and threw down her silverware with a loud thud. "I've tried to talk about this a million times, but you never listen to me! Hades is a hedge-born knave! He's not fit to kiss your feet — let alone share your bed and heart!"
                          
     Persephone's pale face began to take on the color of a damask rose, while Hades' dark eyes narrowed in cold fury. Hazel's stomach was knotted with tension and she stirred her stew as she waited for the explosion that would surely happen. Only Nico seemed to be immune from the tension in the room; he was staring off int this distance with a look on his face Hazel had never seen before. It was the same look her father had when he looked at Persephone; Hazel wondered who the lucky girl was.
                          
      The explosion didn't happen, but that was purely by luck. At that moment, Ploutos spilled his soup over his tunic and while Demeter fussed over her son and Persephone and Hazel bustled to find wet cloth, the argument was forgotten. "Are you burnt at all, dear brother?" Persephone asked as she dabbed a wet cloth against his tunic.
                          
     She was trying to remove as much of the stain as she could. It was no use; the tunic would stain. "I have spare ones at home," Ploutos told his sister with a gentle smile, forgiving her for what was not her fault.
                          
    Persephone blinked appreciatively. "I think we'll retire early tonight," Demeter said curtly. 
                          
       "What a great idea," Persephone said, mustering her best smile. "I hope to have you over again soon, mother."
                          
    She gave her mother a tight hug and only when Demeter's figure had retreated from the house did she let her shoulders sag with relief. "I'm sorry husband," she told Hades as she turned to face him. 
                          
     Hades' face was surly. "Your mother goes too far in her criticism of me."
                          
     Persephone frowned. "She's never wanted me to marry anyway and after I was widowed, I think she hoped I would join her or perhaps become a nun."
                          
      Hades snorted. Widows occasionally became nuns, but almost all of them had to bring a dowry to be accepted into a convent. It was Persephone's dowry that now supported the di Angelo family; when she married Hades, she'd been alarmed to know that he'd racked up debts since his Maria's debt and hadn't bothered to forewarn her. Half of her dowry had already been spent paying off those debts and with Hazel on the precipice of womanhood, the family needed to put together another dowry.
                          
     Seeing her father and stepmother interact in such a way, Hazel came to realize the enormity of the situation. Her father's marriage may have been spurned on by love, but it encapsulated a million troubles: class divisions, lies, frustrations, and petty family squabbles. "Persephone handled dinner really well tonight," she remarked to Nico later as they swept the hearth. 
                          
     "It was Ploutos who prevented a fight," Nico stated.
                          
     Hazel was so surprised that she stopped sweeping. "Whatever do you mean?"
                          
     "Didn't you see the way he deliberately spilled stew on himself?" Nico asked. "He ruined his own tunic to keep the peace."
                          
     Hazel's mind was whirling and she wondered how many sacrifices she would be expected to make if she ever married.