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“Mmmhmm.” Gail gives me a questioning look as she sips her tea, seated across the fire from me. “I’rec sure likes sticking his nose in if you ask me.”
“He just wants the good of the tribe. I can’t blame him.” He looks at his interference as his personal duty to ensure that Shadow Cat flourishes.
“Because you stick your nose in, too,” Gail teases.
She’s not wrong. I love gossip and sharing information. Not just because I’m the unofficial auntie of the tribe. I am thechismosa, the gossip that sticks her nose in to help out. These are my people now, my extended big family. And after despairing for a time, I’ve found my niche. After it came out that I wasn’t going to resonate anytime soonandI wasn’t the one with the healing khui, I flailed for a while. If I’m not a nurse and I’m without my family, who am I?
But as the years have passed, I’ve found that while others might be the best at hunting, or fishing, or even healing, I have my spot. I’ve appointed myself the unofficial glue of the tribe. I’m the one that brings spirits up. I suggest celebrations or feasts. Steph might be the actual counselor, but I share gossip and stick to those that look like they need a friend, and basically clown around to bring smiles to the group when people seem down.
Just like I’rec views himself as responsible for Shadow Cat clan, I consider myself responsible to bring a cheerful mood to my fellow human women.
“I do stick my nose in,” I agree cheerfully. I’m not even offended. It’s just part of my job. “But if I didn’t, how would you know that I caught Bridget and A’tam in their little pottery cave yesterday and they weren’t making bowls, if you catch my drift.”
“I wouldn’t know that,” Gail moans, making a face. “And now I wish I didn’t.”
“Could be resonance,” I say cheerfully. “Might be another baby on the way.”
“Or they might just be horny.”
“Or it might be that,” I agree. “Speaking of, how is Vaza today?”
“Horny,” Gail tells me in a prim voice, and then chuckles. “He’s lucky he’s got such an understanding mate.”
“Now who’s the gossip?!”
“It’s not gossip if I’m the one sharing it!” Gail grins into her tea. “It’s just me bragging on my man.”
God, they are so cute. I smile at her words. I love that Gail is totally into her element and finding love in her fifties. It gives me hope that my silent khui isn’t a total write-off. After four years of absolutely nada, I’m convinced mine is either playing hard to get with R’jaal or I’m going to have to wait for someone in the next generation to grow up and go all cougar on them.
I’m really not sure how I feel about either scenario. R’jaal is…difficult. But so is the thought of getting sexy with anyone else. Then again, Sam and Sessah are incredibly happy, and Sessah’s years younger than her.
Then again, Sessah was the oldest of the young generation. Anyone else that resonates is gonna make me a cradle robber in about ten years, and that’s kinda creepy. Rukhar’s a sweet kid but he’s barely ten and I don’t even want to think of him as an adult.
So for now, auntie.
But I can still love Gail bragging on Vaza. He’s a horny old goat but he’s only got eyes for Gail, and that’s just the cutest. “Where is your man today anyhow?”
“Out with his traps. He’ll be back for dinner. What are you up to anyhow?” She gestures with her cup towards my basket. “What’s in there?”
“The reason why I’m here,” I say brightly. “I’m working on birthday gifts.”
A worried look crosses her face, the look of a mom who’s forgotten something important.“Whose birthday is it?”
“Mine!” I pull my basket into my lap. “So in the years before I never really had the time in advance to work on things, but this year I’ve got a little free time since everyone’s all paired up, right? So I’m just sitting alone in my hut, and I thought I’d use that time to work on gifts for everyone else. My mom always did it when we were growing up and said it was a custom back home. Since everyone here is my family, I thought I’d make gifts for everyone else in time for my birthday next month. And right now I’m working on a croquet set.” I pull out a pouch of leather-covered balls that I’ve created. “They’re not completely round so I rolled them in strips of stretchy leather—kind of like rubber band balls I used to make when I was a kid—and I want to dye them bright colors. Not only that, but I need them to taste bad.”
Gail’s eyes light up with understanding. “Because of the little ones.”
“Yeah, so they won’t mouth on them.” Not only do we have kids of all ages on the beach, but there are more every year and each toy is considered precious. I know that if I give a croquet set out, everyone is going to use it. “So a dye that makes nice colors and tastes like shit. I thought I’d see if you have any ideas.”
“These are a good size,” Gail says, picking one up. “I used to play croquet in my backyard when I was a kid. Who’s making the mallets? Do you want me to get Vaza to help?”
I shake my head. “I’rec offered to do it for me.”
Gail gives me a sharp-eyed look. “You sure do spend a lot of time with him lately.”
I’m not surprised the conversation went in that direction. I’m a single woman, he’s a single man. It’s not anything I haven’t heard before, but I’rec has made it clear that he’s waiting for Tia.“It’s not like that. We’re friends and he owes me a couple of favors. So…can you think of a dye?”
* * *
