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It’s almost easy.
Though I am not surprised when I open the bay doors to the unit that I am going to eat my words. Before me, mountains of brown boxes and carefully wrapped shapes stand between me and Marbles. I read each label on the boxes, some are labelled by room, like ‘bathroom’ or ‘kitchen’, others are labelled by contents.
“Books, books, blankets, candles. How does she own enough candles for a whole box?”
Perhaps it is rude of me to snoop through my mate’s belongings, but this feels almost like an expedition into her mind and her past. I am an explorer of old in search of new planets and life. I stretch my arms and crack my tail before I lift the candle box down from a shelf and onto the floor.
Pulling a muscle or bending cartilage is not on the docket for today.
I open the box and see twenty or more unopened boxes, each of them with different labels and descriptions. There is one that claims to smell like the disks Odette was making before I left and I rip that open. It smells synthetic and nothing at all like her cookies. There are others that smell like forests and dead animal skins and elusive emotions that don’t make sense.
There is one with a dark and foiled label that catches my eye.Boudoir Love Rituals. I don’t know what that b-word is, but if there is a human love ritual that Odette felt so called to she purchased some sort of scent for it, it’s coming home with me.
I set it aside and continue to excavate my way through the storage unit. Each time I find an item that could be important, I add it to the growing pile of things I will have to stuff into my single seat pod. Adult pleasure toys in odd shapes, a book onhouse plants, a small photograph of two adults and a small baby that looks like Odette, and a pair of undergarments that have a slit down the middle. I’m not sure what good the last item I toss onto my small pile is, but they give me ideas.
Ideas of spreading my mate open while she wears them and nothing else. Is that what the ritual candle is also a part of?
I’m working my way through the final box labelled ‘bedroom’, with my cocks aching in the trousers, when finally I come upon a worn and somewhat small soft toy. Its fur is discoloured. There are clumsy and mismatched stitches covering its arm and neck, and it has black unseeing eyes that I am sure will haunt me for the rest of my days. Still, when I breathe in to sigh with relief, I smell Odette. Her scent clings to this plush in a way that is oddly comforting.
“Marbles, you better be good to my pup.”
I grab a bag hanging from the wall quickly and stuff my findings inside before tucking the teddy bear under my arms. It’s time to get home to my mate.
Chapter 15
Odette
Oh no.
Oh no no no no.
This is a disaster. The exact opposite of how this surprise party is supposed to get set up. Ma’xon will be here any moment. He’s called to say he is only a tick away. That’s barely thirty minutes, that’s not enough time and yet it isn’t soon enough. Every part of me wants to wrap myself around Ma’xon like a big boa constrictor and never let go, but we need more time.
The catering was over an hour late, so all the food is still uncooked. They are hard at work setting up hibachi style grills, but that means the only nibbles we have set up are billions of cookies I stress baked to fill the void of Ma’xon being away.
And cookies, despite how delicious they are, can’t really fill voids like noodles can.
The banner Ke’lee and A’la made refuses to stay attached to the wall across from the entrance to colony hall. If I put anymore of that sticky gunk Lawrence gave me up there it’s gonna ruin the paint, or whatever the coating is.
And let’s not forget the fact that I am desperately trying to keep this outfit clean.
Formal wear in Axilaria is formal. I’m not talking black tie and ball gowns. I'm talking wearing this very specific shade of blue belt skirt with sparkles and this sleeveless jumpsuit with mesh and fancy piping to signify I’m mated to the man of the hour. Everyone is in a varying shade of blue, but I am the only one in this iridescent colour.
The moment Pri’za started to spread the word that there would be a colony wide celebration to honour Ma’xon’s years of service, she was inundated with offers to help. Lawrence rescheduled Lor’fe’s return to senate so she could hand my mate an official certificate. Betty’s mate, Er’dex, apparently owns a flower shop, and they’re bringing a full spectrum of blooms to liven up the boring lobby.
I will never be able to express how grateful I am that Pri’za is the one in charge of this planning. As I step off the mag-lift platform, another person walks up to her with an attitude. I’ve never been one to handle that sort of conflict. One time my boss told me I had to re-record an ad because he didn’t like the way I said butter and I just left for my lunch early. The customer had approved the ad, I wasn’t going to make any more changes.
Pri’za handles conflict like the leader she clearly is. It’s not that she takes everything people say to her in strides the way Ma’xon does, it’s that she seems to know whatever someone is going to have a problem with before they even say it. She’s like a magician. She’s absolutely found what she loves and made it her life. Which is knowing everyone’s business and telling them how to make it better.
She’s also a little scary.
“Odette,” she barks. “Where are we on refreshments?”
“All ready to go,” I say with a mock salute. “Signs up, grills are on, and Al’dren has the girls already at the house ready for surprise one.”
She does a little hype dance that makes her tail swish back and forth so fast I can’t see the tips of it. This party is as much a benefit to Ma’xon as it is to her. She is showing the colony how ready she is to lead, and she is doing it swimmingly.
“This is your final warning,” she shouts into her comms, which blasts the message through the intercom system around the hall.
