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As we reach the shore, the shuttle veers inland a little, circling a large, rambling house with pretty peach walls and multi-colored roof tiles. Two people are standing by the front of the house, looking up at us.
“There’s Wyatt!” shouts Kiritela excitedly. It’s been nearly three months since we last saw him on his final visit to Krovatia as head of the Interstellar Arts Company. He has since stepped down and passed on the baton to a successor, though he maintains a shareholding in the business. After ten years of continuous travelling, endless cargo runs and putting on show after sell-out show all over this quadrant of the galaxy, he and Rivlor are enjoying their retirement on their newly purchased home on Lirisor. And we’re about to enjoy a well-earned vacation on this island paradise.
Kirilaura lifts her head from Kirimor’s comfortable lap, blinking sleepily. “Are we there yet pa?” she yawns.
Kirimor rumbles a quiet laugh. “Yes, little love, we have arrived. Can you not see Wyatt over there with Rivlor?”
Kirilaura looks to where Kirimor is pointing. Her face transforms into a happy smile as she catches sight of them. “Pa, will Rivlor let me ride her griv with her? She promised.”
“If she promised, then rest assured she will.”
My daughter adores Rivlor, Wyatt’s life partner this last decade. She’s also been fascinated by grivs, a magnificent horse-like flying creature that’s native to the planet Ven, ever since she learned about them at school. On her last visit to Krovatia, Rivlor told Kirilaura that she would be purchasing a griv to help her get about on Lirisor, and that the children would get to ride on it if they behaved well and studied hard at school. My daughter has been as good as gold ever since, which is no hard feat.
The shuttle comes to land a few yards away from the house. Kiritela jumps up to open the door. At fourteen, Kirimor’s little star is no longer so little, but a tall and graceful young lady—and a dancer. Kiritela caught the dancing bug, all those years ago watching the first ever ballet performance on Krovatia. It was her eagerness to learn how to dance that instigated the launch of the Krovatian School of Ballet a year later. Using Wyatt’s contacts with various ballet companies on Earth, I worked strenuously to make her dream a reality, inviting top ballet teachers to come over and help set it up. It’s been a resounding success, oversubscribed year on year, and one of the achievements I’m proudest of in my role as Earth Federation’s ambassador to Krovatia, a role I continue to hold.
We all step out of the shuttle and rush towards Wyatt and Rivlor, surrounding the two of them, demanding our hugs and kisses. Finally, I get a turn. Wyatt shines his sweet, sexy smile as he enfolds me in his arms. “Hey honey,” he whispers. I breathe in his familiar woodsy scent and hold him tight. I’ve loved this man for over three decades. We’ve had our fair share of pits and falls, but we’ve come through stronger than ever, the best of friends.
“I’ve missed you,” I murmur back.
He brushes the hair from my temple gently, his bright blue eyes warm with love. “I’ve missed you too,” he says softly.
A strong tail wraps itself around the two of us. “Wyatt,” Kirimor growls.
Wyatt grins at him. “Good to see you, old man.”
Kirimor smirks, “And it is good to see you too, cute boy.”
Wyatt and he are not quite best of friends, but they have grown closer over the years, enjoying a little teasing banter. I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. Looking to my left, I see Rivlor smiling benignly at me.
“Melinda, you are looking beautiful as ever.”
“And you, Rivlor. Retirement on Lirisor suits you.”
She grins. “It is good,” she says simply.
Then the children clamor for attention again. We follow Wyatt and Rivlor into their new home, taking a tour around the large, spread-out house. We walk from room to room, most of which boast panoramic views of the cerulean sea. A fresh, salty breeze blows in through the slatted windows. The décor everywhere is minimal, with cool, calming colors. Wyatt told me Rivlor wanted their retirement home to be a place of serenity after the hectic nature of their lives the past few years. Perhaps she was also inspired by our home in the Krovatian mountains, which Kirimor extended as our family grew. Throughout our home, Kirimor’s aesthetic shines through, favoring simplicity over clutter, with graceful lines that please the eye.
“And here’s your room,” says Wyatt as we enter a pretty bedroom painted a pale peach color.
I look around. “Nice,” I say.
There’s the sound of feet clattering, then Kirilaura bursts into the room. “Rivlor, when can we see your griv?” she asks excitedly.
“Why not now? But first I need to ask your ma and pa if you’ve been good.”
“I have! I have!”
Kirimor chuckles, ruffling our girl’s hair. “I can attest to that.”
“Well then, let us go and meet Ruala.”
“Is that her name?”
“It is.”
She steers her out of the room and down the stairs. Kirimor comes closer to wrap his tail around me. “I will go settle the children into their rooms and bring out our belongings from the shuttle,” he says. “I know you will appreciate a little quiet time with Wyatt to catch up.” As he turns to go, he calls out, “Behave!”
I chuckle at this and lean my chin on Wyatt’s shoulder. “How are you doing, sweetie?” I ask him. “Is this lovely piece of paradise working out for you?”
