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“You think she’s ever going to let you inside her house?”
“That’s the hope.” For now, I’m content to wait until Tabitha’s comfortable enough to let me into her life.
Nine
TABITHA
I brush my hair and straighten my clothes as the sun sets, knowing that Jrrru will be dropping by soon. I check my appearance in the mirror, but I don’t know that appearances matter. If I plucked my brows or put on blush, would he even notice? He’s got whiskers and a cat snout and orange striped fur. Pretty sure he wouldn’t care whether or not my cheeks are rosy or my eyebrows are a little hairy.
A nervous flutter starts in my stomach.
It always does, this time of day. I used to kid myself that I wasn’t looking forward to Jrrru’s visits. That I didn’t care if he came by or not. But the days that he didn’t show up started to feel long and lonely, and at some point, I admitted to myself that I like talking to him. I like seeing him. I like hearing about his day and how he makes the smallest things sound interesting.
I didn’t really think of myself as lonely before I met him. I was surviving.
It’s another thing I admit to myself now: on the days that Jrrru can’t swing by for even a quick hello, I’m lonely all right. I count the hours until he shows up again.
Heading into the kitchen, I grab two clean glasses and fill them with water. I take out a plate of cold cuts that I’ve been keeping for his visits and add a handful of nuts to the side for me, and place it all on a tray. With the tray in hand, I slip on my shoes and unlock the front door, then step outside.
Just one step. I sit down on the top step, set the tray next to me, and wait.
I don’t know if Jrrru’s coming by today. I never ask for specific days, and he doesn’t volunteer it. It allows us to keep the veneer of casual friendship, I suppose. It’s not every day, either. Sometimes he has a job that takes him out far and I won’t see him for a few days—like when he had to do repairs on a dam’s hydraulic system—and sometimes he just doesn’t have a job lined up, so there’s no reason for him to head into town.
Today feels like a visit day, though. I smooth a wild strand of hair behind my ear and give up when the breeze rips it back out of my grip.
My throat feels dry, my stomach still fluttering with excitement. I rub my hands up and down on my jumpsuit, not willing to drink the water I’ve set out. Not just yet. Instead, I scan the skies, waiting for the telltale glint of an incoming air-sled.
After a few minutes of waiting, just when I start to get anxious that he’s not going to be by today after all, the dark blue of his rental air-sled appears on the horizon, dipping and moving like a hummingbird. It veers toward my house and the butterflies in my stomach turn into eagles, and I can’t stop myself from smiling broadly.
Everyone smiles. It’s a normal reaction. I don’t even feel weird about it, because when Jrrru pulls his sled onto the spot I’ve designated for him (marked off with stones so he won’t accidentally step on a trap), he’s smiling through the window of the sled back at me.
Warmth floods my veins. I don’t get up to greet him, but I rub my hands on my legs over and over again, my palms curiously sweaty.
He opens the sled and steps out, unfurling his big body and it’s like watching a cat stretch. His tail even has a little curl at the end of it, in the same way my cat back on Earth would curl the tip of her tail when she was content. Jrrru looks good today. He’s wearing a plain gray bodysuit that shows off his lean form, and he’s got a heavy tool-belt slung at his waist. The suit’s got a dirty spot or three on the breast and a rip on the arm, which tells me it was probably a busy, dirty day for him.
But his smile is brilliant as he grins at me. “You been waiting long, my sweet-scented Tabitha?”
“Not long.”
He holds his tail perfectly still as he moves over to my side, the cute little hook still curling the end of it. Jrrru sits next to me on the step and then leans over, holding out a package. “Brought you a candle. You don’t have this scent yet.”
I take it from him and smile, sniffing the thing through the wrapping paper. After I ran out of things to ask him to bring me, he started buying me items he thought I might like. A packet of spices. A square of cloth he said reminded him of my eyes. A candle. For some reason, he thinks I really love scented candles. I must have two dozen of them now, and I haven’t lit a single one. I keep them all in a box in a storage closet, because they’re precious gifts. “Thank you.”
