“Hey, stranger.”
“Nelle, hey. Welcome.” He moved aside to let her step into the tiny entryway, took her coat, and hung it on the hook next to his own. Nelle slipped off her sandals and followed him up the staircase as he apologized for not being ready yet. “I’m just working on dessert. Dinner is in the oven. I’m still waiting on my friend from town. I have some things to snack on in the meantime.”
“Whatever you’ve got smells amazing.”
He closed the upper door behind them as she looked around the kitchen. “Mmn, thanks, it’s a chicken-and-egg tart. Green salad. Baked apples for dessert. Nothing fancy.”
“Yeah, I was just going to complain about how un-fancy it sounds. Tch.”
In the light of the kitchen, Keifon could identify the object she cradled against her chest as a corked jug. Something had occurred to him as he wound his way through the city, after his visit to the work camp. Now that Agna was out of town, he could get away with a night of wine and cards with his friends. Agna would never know, unless Nelle told her. Eri would never know that he’d violated their agreement. Bargi might remember that he’d mentioned it once before, when she’d offered him some of her leftover whiskey, but he didn’t expect her to stick to his limitations. It was a party, wasn’t it? And he had so much to forget tonight.
Nelle held the jug out as he began to stammer an apology. “I can’t, I’m sorry. If you want to have some, you can, I just can’t—”
“It’s sweet cider, my dear idiot. Perfectly harmless. I wouldn’t forget.”
Keifon refolded the kitchen towel as he willed his heartbeat to slow. “Oh. Uh… thank you.” He accepted the jug and set it in the middle of the table next to the bowl, which was now filled with shelled nuts.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Mmn, no, thank you. If you can just hang on a second while I finish cutting up the apples, that’s all I have left to do. Would you like some tea?”
“Maybe later, thanks.”
Keifon turned to the counter and the array of peeled and sliced apples. His hands steadied as he worked, slicing the rest of the apples and piling them in a baking dish. He heard one of the chairs scrape back.
“Place looks great,” Nelle said. “Cozy.”
“Thanks. I’ll give you the full tour in a bit. When Bargi gets here, I hope. She may be delayed a while longer.”
“Bargi, that’s your other friend?”
“Yeah.” He set aside the knife and drizzled honey over the layered apples. “She… it’s a little complicated, how we met. She can talk about it if she wants. She’s working on the mountain pass now, on the road to Yanwei.”
“Heard about that. So’s it going to make things easier for you?”
This afternoon, it had been that simple. The road between his adopted home and Nachi’s would be wider and safer, traversed by faster carts. And it still could be that simple. All he had to do was to wait out the project, until the Army left. He was such a coward. He set down the honey pot and replaced its lid, forcing his mind onto the question that Nelle had actually asked. “It should. Seems like it’ll be a long time building it, though.”
“Something like that, it probably will be. Worth it in the end, I’m sure.”
“Mmhm.” He shook a sprinkle of ground spices over the apples, set a lid over the baking dish, moved it aside, and began to clean up the apple peels and scraps.
“So, you and this Bargi person…”
Her tone was all too familiar. Keifon smiled to himself, since his back was turned. “No. Why is everyone so keen on pairing me off?”
Nelle laughed. “You need it, is why. Needed it back in the caravan, and now, whew.”
He dumped a double handful of apple peels in the bowl they kept for compost. “I think I’m doing just fine for myself, thank you very much.” It wasn’t even convincing as a joke.
“No doubt, but I can see it in you. Maybe it’s because she’s gone.”
Keifon braced his hands on the countertop, wanting to face Nelle, unwilling to let her see more than she already had. “I miss her. Yes.”
“Never said you shouldn’t. I worry, is all. Don’t get so lonely that it eats you, all right? Promise me for her sake?”
He hung his head, feeling the muscles in his shoulders tensing. “What am I supposed to do about it? And don’t say brothels. It wouldn’t help.” The idea had occurred to him, late at night. The expense was only part of what had stopped him. He’d dumped his problems on Father Tufari; that was bad enough. He didn’t make enough money in a year to pay someone to put up with the wretchedness he’d bring to their doorstep.
“Wasn’t thinking that. Tonight, what you’re doing tonight. That’s good. Have people over. Play some cards. Talk with them. You do this kind of thing much?”
“No.” He swallowed and picked up the cutting board. “This is the first time.”
“Well, there you go. Hey. Look here.”
He turned as he set the board in the sink. Nelle had taken a seat at the kitchen table, leaning on her elbows with her fingers laced together. “You’re doing all right, and I’m glad. I just want you to keep that up. Don’t let it get you. ‘Cause I want to come over next year and have dinner with you and Agna both.”
By then, he had to have taken Father Tufari’s offer and gotten himself a match. He had to have pulled himself out of this dream he was living. But all he could think was that he wanted Agna back now. He wanted to see her sitting at the table, firing off jokes to match Nelle’s, or at his side, helping him to wash the dishes.
The chair scraped back again, and before he could find any words, Nelle had come to him. She was wearing one of her perfumes, something that smelled like lilies and growing things. Her touch was unfamiliar. Her arms around him did not make him feel anchored to himself the way Agna’s did, though his heart raced, craving the kindness in her gesture, craving the simple, friendly contact. He flushed, and his instinctive shift backward was stopped short by the edge of the sink. His fingers were sticky with apple juice, so he curled his hands in on themselves and hugged her up to the wrists.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Sometimes my mouth just… anyway. I’m looking out for you. Just know that.”
He nodded, fighting the urge to drop his head to her shoulder, to cry in her lap. His voice came thin, but it came. “Thank you, Nelle.”
Nelle pulled away and patted his cheek. “How about you write me, huh? Check in. Tell me about city life.”
Agna wrote letters every day to her army of friends and family and art contacts, but he had fewer attachments left. He’d only written to Nachi, reacting to her endearingly rambling stories about her life. She could write for herself now, and each letter ended with a few neat lines of news from Eri. He kept every one filed in a box in his room, proof that his daughter remembered him.
Another person wanted to hear from him now. The thought made warmth bloom in his chest. His Kaveran writing was intelligible now, so he could make himself understood to Nelle. Of course, the quality of his writing wasn’t the point. He managed a smile for her. “Mmn, all right. I can do that.”
“Good. I’ll wait to hear from you.” Nelle walked around the table, leaving him to gather his thoughts.
Keifon washed his hands of the last of the apple juice and folded the towel on the counter. The salad only needed to be dressed; the tart was in the oven; the apples would bake while they ate. They only had to wait for Bargi. “Well… want to see the place?”
“Sure.”
He showed her through the apartment, silencing the apologies that leapt to his mind about its barrenness. Agna had put this place together, and he wouldn’t disparage it. It wasn’t finished, that was all. They would work on it together when she returned. The living room was outfitted with a couch at one end, in front of the fireplace, and the writing table and bookshelves at the other.
He carried a lamp down the hall to point out Agna’s room and his own, the two empty rooms, and Agna’s future
studio at the end, facing the street. “She’ll bring things back from Nessiny for it,” he said. “I made sure she set aside some space for her own work. This room has the best light.”
“It’s lovely. You two have a nice place here.”
“Thank you.” Keifon indulged a daydream of Agna working in a shaft of sunlight in this room, drawing the plants in the windowbox. He’d be working at that hour, or cooking dinner if he were off, but in the vision he just stood and watched and drank it in.
He dropped his eyes and swallowed. “Hey, I was wondering, do you think the herbs are doing all right in the windowboxes?”
Nelle leaned against the window, peering at the boxes. “Hmm. They’re what, this deep?” She measured out the distance with her hands in the air.
“Yeah, about that.” He mimed their dimensions — an arm’s length, half as wide and deep.
“Sure, they look good. Plenty of light on this side.” She swung the window open and reached out to bend one of the leaves between her fingers. “They’re well hydrated. That’s the danger in containers, anyway, not enough water. But you’re doing fine. Getting late for some things now, but there are some things that’ll grow into the fall even up in the mountains.” She roved over his selection of plants, peering at the late flowers and bending out of the window to sniff some leaves. “Cooking and healing, huh?”
“Yeah. I go through a lot of medicines, and I can sell some of them to the herbalists here. And it helps to save some money on cooking herbs, if I can.” He held back the explanation of why he used so much medicine on his own time, why it wasn’t covered by the hospital. As winter came, Keiva’s camp would need more help. He had to be prepared.
“You know, let me look up some things in my notes and I’ll send you some ideas. See, there’s our first letter.” She slapped him on the arm chummily, and he smiled despite the pang shooting through him. It was an Agna-like gesture, friendly and a little childish. Missing her hit him like a rock in the stomach.
He thought he heard a distant knock. “That must be Bargi. Excuse me.” He turned and jogged down the hallway, steadying the lamp as he went. Nelle followed, and warmed her hands in the heat of the stove as he opened the door to the stairs.
Keifon ran down the front stairs as another knock landed. He opened the door on Bargi’s uneasy face; at the sight of him she broke into a smile. “Oh, good. So this is it.”
“Yeah, hey. Welcome.”
“I’m not late, am I?”
“No, not at all. My friend from the caravan is here, we were just having a tour. Please come in.”
Bargi ducked across the threshold, her hands thrust deep into the pockets of a threadbare coat. Her short hair was still damp. Keifon debated whether to offer to take her coat, and decided to ask. She had never seemed especially territorial about her belongings, and he didn’t want to treat her any differently than he’d treat Nelle. She let him take her coat without comment, dropping her gaze in a way that he’d never seen in her. He hung it next to Nelle’s. She pulled her boots off, bracing herself on the door frame. She’d changed into clean clothes, a heavy cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and pants that seemed too large for her frame.
“The apartment is all upstairs,” he said, one foot on the stair. “Downstairs is the space Agna wants to turn into an art gallery.”
“The old dry-goods store?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
Bargi followed him up the stairs. “Huh. …What’s in there now?”
“Well, nothing, really. Some furniture Agna brought in to use later, shelves and things. And we used the root cellar in the summer. That’s about it.”
“Hm.”
Keifon let her pass through the upper door before him. “I was thinking about putting it up for rent, actually. Would you look around with me later? I’d like to know what you think.”
“Oh, sure. Thanks.” She stopped short on the kitchen floor. Keifon hung the lamp on the hook by the door.
Nelle gave a Kaveran greeting wave, her smile bright. “Hey there.”
“Bargi, this is Nelle, the herbalist from the fall caravan. Nelle, this is my friend Bargi. She’s working up at the pass construction site.” He’d already told Nelle that, but some sense of symmetry compelled him to repeat it.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Nelle said.
Bargi ruffled the back of her head. “Yeah, you too.”
“Well, are we ready for dinner?” Keifon grabbed a pair of oven mitts and pulled the tart out of the oven, drawing appreciative noises from his guests. “Egg tart with shredded chicken. There’s salad, and I’ll get the apples in to bake for a while. Should be ready after dinner.”
“Damn, doc,” Bargi muttered.
“Can I get the salad for you, then?” Nelle edged toward the counter as Keifon set the tart on a trivet on the table.
“Uh, if you want to. Dressing’s in that…” He mimed the shape of the glass container through the padded mitts, forgetting its name in Kaveran.
“Cruet,” Nelle said.
“That. Bargi, can you pour us some cider? It’s in that jug on the table there.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Nelle drizzled the dressing over the salad and brought the bowl to the table, as Bargi carefully poured the cider and Keifon slid the apples into the oven. They gathered around the table. Keifon nearly held his hands out for a prayer, and thought better of it. “Uh, neither of you are religious, are you.”
“Nope,” Nelle said brightly. Bargi made a face at him.
“Just a second.” He made the signs of the gods, one after another, and offered a silent prayer. Thank the gods for our home, for the food we share, and for the friends in my life. Please protect those who can’t be with us tonight, and thank You for the presence of those who can. In Your names. He looked up at his friends’ waiting eyes. “Well, enjoy.”
They piled salad and thick slices of tart on their plates, passing the serving dishes to one another. When they had served themselves, Nelle raised her glass. “To our friends, and Kei’s hospitality, and our girl who can’t be here tonight.”
“Cheers,” Bargi said.
Keifon raised his glass to meet theirs. The cider that Nelle had brought was clear and sweet. Maybe the baked apples would be too much, now, too many apples for one night — but he’d already made them. He was over-thinking this.
Nelle looked thoughtful over her salad. “Is this one of my vinegars?”
“Mm. Well.” He swallowed a bite with a mouthful of cider. “We used up your vinegar, so we tried to duplicate it. It’s not as good. Sorry for not having the better stuff tonight.”
“Should smack you. No respect for the master’s art.” She smirked as she took another bite.
“I’ll buy some tomorrow.”
“You’d better.”
Bargi had finished half of her slice of egg tart. “The one who can’t be here, is that your friend Agna?”
“She’s visiting her family in Nessiny,” Keifon said.
Nelle held up two crossed fingers. “Back when those two were working on the caravan, me and Agna were thick as thieves. ‘Specially when they were feuding.”
“Feuding? Are you kidding?”
Keifon kneaded the bridge of his nose, saying nothing. Nelle doodled in the air with her empty fork. “Oh, yeah. Hated the stuffing out of each other. Kind of cute, in the end.”
“It wasn’t cute,” Keifon broke in. “It was stressful. I was… not in a good place. I didn’t give her a chance, at first. That’s all.”
“Didn’t want to,” Nelle said. “Neither did she. Just wanted to go on doing your own thing, and you were up each other’s noses all the time. They worked it out eventually, and now, well.”
Bargi was smiling. “Yeah.”
“Would you please stop?”
Nelle and Bargi met one another’s eyes, stifling their laughter. Keifon took another bite, his cheeks flaming. Fine, they could embarrass him as an icebreaker. But it wasn’t fair to talk abo
ut Agna when she wasn’t here.
“You’re working in the hospital here, then?” Nelle poured herself some more cider. “The one that Captain Wildern built?”
Bargi snickered. Keifon’s brow furrowed until his brain switched tracks away from Agna. “Oh — Aines Shora. Yes. I’ve got an apprenticeship with a doctor from Yanwei.”
“Apprenticeship? You’re already a doctor, I thought.”
“That’s what I thought,” Bargi said. “All the stuff he does for us, anyone who says he isn’t qualified is crazy.”
“Well. Not legally. I got a lot of training in the Army, but it wasn’t a full education. I’ll learn the things I didn’t learn then, and Kavera will recognize me as fully trained. And…” He’d already gotten on the topic, and he had the feeling these two would pull it out of him if they wanted to know anyway. “I was thinking of applying for Kaveran citizenship, too. Depending on how things go.”
“Huh,” Bargi said.
“Once I train in a foreign country, I can’t practice in Yanwei. Not that I could anyway. It’s complicated. Anyway, that’s sort of the plan.”
“Plus all your marriage and kids stuff,” Nelle said.
“…Yeah.”
“You can do it,” Bargi said. “You want something bad enough, you’ll work for it. You know he…” She dropped off, her eyes flicking from her plate to Nelle to Keifon. “You know. What you do, every day.”
“Oh… yes. That.” He set down his fork. “Nelle is one of Agna’s best friends, Bargi. She knows some things about me that I don’t tell everyone. So… if we tell her how we met, it’s all right. She won’t mind.”
“I talk to people about personal stuff all day every day. But I get it, if you don’t want to. You don’t have to.”
“You can,” Bargi muttered. “You can tell her.”
Keifon drew a deep breath. “In Yanwei, after my wife left me, I lived out on the street for a while. I was still drinking, and I kind of thought I wouldn’t survive very long. The Church of Darano found me and brought me back and got me into the Army. …Bargi knows this. Agna knows. I never talked to you about it.”
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