Page 145 of Every Almost

As the musical accompaniment and the lyrics of "You Make My Dreams Come True" continued to play through the Engineering Bay, the three engineers laughed, conversed, and participated in general merriment.

Charlie was happy. Genuinely and completely happy, for the first time since Helen had passed. Of course, she missed Katie, and worried about her constantly and how she was faring on Earth. She was worried about her return, what the remaining five months could contain for her being away from her home.But she also realized that she was coming closer to feeling as though the Emberkind was the best place to be while she worked her way back. She could be useful, she could help both the crew and the animals, and maybe she could make a difference while she was there.

Five months. She'd started counting them without meaning to. But unlike every countdown she'd ever tracked in her life that had pointed at something arriving, this countdown pointed at a door closing behind her. She let the thought stop there, not following any further than that.

But underneath the joy, quiet and persistent and entirely without permission, something else was there too. Her mind kept circling back to the shuttle. To Reyna's hand in hers during the launch, steady and warm and certain. And then later, on the return, how the warmth had simply... receded. Reyna sitting next to her, smiling, saying all the right things, and something still not adding up. She couldn't pinpoint what had changed. Reyna had been fine for the rest of the mission. Warm, even, during the Cael confrontation. But something between the launch and the landing had shifted by a degree Charlie could feel but couldn't measure.

She'd figure it out. Whatever it was. For now, the music was playing and the day had been good, and the something that had settled into her chest watching Reyna saywhenever you're readywith a voice that meant it was still warm and still unnamed and still entirely hers.

She leaned back against the engine housing again, closed her eyes, and let the music fill the room, her heart, and her mind.

FIFTEEN

TELL ME ABOUT RAIN

The following week,Charlie was in Borran's kitchen, which smelled like something between a bakery and a fever dream.

Charlie had learned that the ship's galley operated on Borran's schedule and nobody else's. Meals appeared when Borran was ready, somewhat following a three-square-meals kind of schedule. Snacks materialized on counters at hours that defied any known circadian rhythm. And if you happened to wander in at the wrong time, you were either put to work or fed until you couldn't move. There was no third option.

This morning, Charlie had wandered in at the wrong time.

"Sit," Borran said without turning around. He was at the counter, his massive hands working dough with a precision that shouldn't have been possible given their size. Each movement was deliberate and practiced, from the kind of muscle memory that came from doing the same thing thousands of times and the care never dampening.

Charlie sat. She'd learned not to argue with Borran about anything in and around his kitchen, least of all the food, the same way she'd learned not to argue with Helen or Frank.

A plate appeared in front of her. Some kind of flatbread with a spread that tasted like honey and rosemary had a baby in a meadow.

Charlie sniffed it at first. She'd gotten used to eating the food on the Emberkind, and often it was incredible. But she still always second-guessed something that was made by a seven-foot bear in an apron. She kept thinking to herself she really needed to get over it.

She picked up the flatbread, which was still warm to the touch, and watched as some of the honey dripped down onto her plate below. When she put it to her mouth and took a bite, she realized shereallyneeded to get over the fact that a bear was making her food becauseHoly Toledo, Batmanwas it the most incredible tasting food she'd eaten since... well... that morning, since the breakfast Borran had prepared was just as good as her meal now.

"This is incredible," Charlie said, her mouth full.

Borran grunted. She was learning to translate his grunts. This one meantobviously.

"No, seriously," she said, tearing off another piece. "If you ever wanted to open a restaurant on Earth, you'd put every bakery in Indiana out of business. And California. And probably France."

Borran turned around and studied her, his dark eyes narrowing beneath his heavy brow. Then he pointed a flour-dusted finger at her.

"Spark Plug."

Charlie blinked. "Beg pardon?"

"Your name," Borran said. "Spark Plug." He turned back to his dough as though the matter was entirely settled.

Charlie stared at the back of his enormous frame.

The kitchen door swung open and Reyna pushed in, datapad in hand, clearly mid-thought about something as she stopped when she saw Charlie at the counter.

"Well well, fancy seeing you here, Earthling," Reyna said, the tease in her voice immediate. She sauntered over to the counter and gave Charlie a smile as she leaned against a stool to Charlie's right. Charlie returned it full force with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Afternoon, Captain," Charlie said. "See? I call people by their proper titles. I don't go around saying, 'Nice to see you, Caravan.'"

Reyna looked at her, perplexed. "'Caravan?'"

"Yeah. 'Caravan.' Your species."

Reyna started to laugh. "You mean 'Kaelari'?"