Page 21

“Humans?”

“People, little one. I meant people,” Alastair corrected dryly.

Alastair…ugh, I hated calling him that. It was too long.

“You need a nickname. Your name is sooooo long.”

“I loathe shortened names,” Alastair replied.

“I Mikey.”

“Yes, I know, but it pains me to call you that,” Alastair shot back with almost a grin, except he wasn’t the kind to do that, so I didn’t know what it was. “But I’m afraid my name is Alastair and always has been.”

“We gotta pick a new one,” I suggested. Suddenly, the room went still, and all the air stopped moving. “I like Papa.”

“Papa?” he repeated.

“Daddy better?” I cocked my head to the side ’cause that helped me think. Alastair was kinda old-fashioned, and that mattered. Decision made. “Nope, you Papa.”

Alastair looked like he wanted to argue with me but then changed his mind. I gloated, but only on the inside ’cause doing it on the outside was rude. But the silence got super long, and I started getting worried. Then the longer he stayed silent, the more worried I got. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I asked, “Okay?”

“That’s fine, little one.” Papa nodded at my bone china plate and flatware made with real silver. I knew ’cause you could almost see through the plate and the fork was super-duper heavy. But something was different. He looked mostly the same, but his eyes weren’t quite the same color. That was silly ’cause it didn’t make sense, but it was true.

Not like a human, but like a para. Check and check.

“The quicker you eat, the faster you see the surprise.”

That was incentive enough for me to start shoveling food in my mouth. It wasn’t maybe the most prettiest thing, but I really, really wanted to see the surprise because what if it was a treasure? It could be a lonely stuffie. It could be sleepover pajamas. The last one made my tummy flip-flop.

Thinking about pajamas made me think about Papa kissing me. I bet he was a good kisser. It wouldn’t be gross like some guys I’d kissed, with too much tongue and all slobbery. Like my ex-boyfriend, who wasn’t very nice and broke up with me in a text message, and that’s just rude.

Anyway, a Papa kiss would be sweet, and he’d make my tummy flip-flop. And then I’d probably giggle and ruin it by being silly, but I’d like it when it happened. Thinking about kissing took over all my brain, and I missed my mouth when I was trying to eat the pie that had magically replaced the beans when I wasn’t looking.

“Little one, stop. You’re making a mess,” Papa admonished. “Here, I’ll do it.”

Without waiting for permission, Papa took the fork from my hand and scooped a bite of pie from my plate. He waited patiently until I opened before moving his hand forward. The sweetness of the apple exploded on my tongue, and I couldn’t help but think of other flavors, the saltier kind, that I wanted to try.

“Thank you, Papa,” I squeaked.

He narrowed his eyes at me and, as usual, the room shimmered. It was the rolling waves kind, the ones I liked, and I smiled a little.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked me in a soft voice.

“All the flavors I wanna try.”

“Oh, like what?”

“The salty ones.”

Papa turned his head away, but I saw the quick twitch of a smirk on his lips. My para, and I knew I was right, was thinking about it too.

“For now, it’s all sweet,” he answered.

Papa fed me the rest of my pie and then very carefully picked up the napkin next to my hand and cleaned off all my fingers. He turned my hands this way and that to make sure no crumbs were left behind. His hands, even though they were cool, felt nice because I always ran a little bit hot. When he reached up and used the napkin to wipe the corners of my mouth, I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out and sneak a taste of his skin. I’m not sure I did a good job hiding what I was thinking ’cause I noticed Papa watching my chest move up and down. He studied me.

“Right, little one, let’s move on to that surprise,” Papa said before he pushed himself away from the table.

He came around to my side and helped me push my chair back. I liked that he grabbed my hands and didn’t wait for me to ask or leave without me.