by Rinelle Grey
He looked down. Jenka’s partner, Rejan, sat just below the windowsill, with his back against the wall. His head hung in a dejected slump. Marlee came up to Tyris’s elbow and silently looked down with him, her face a picture of worry.
“Rejan? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Jenka?” She kept her voice low. Tyris looked around, but no one in the hall seemed to notice the conversation.
Rejan didn’t look up. “He sent me away.” Sadness and hopelessness filled his words.
Tyris didn’t even need to ask who sent him away. He could clearly remember Jenka’s father’s opinion of Rejan. The expression on Marlee’s face urged him to do something. Tyris dunked his bread into the soup one last time, swallowed it, and handed the bowl to Marlee. “Give me a minute,” he said, and he ducked out of the doors, into the snow.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he said to Rejan.
The young man hesitated, but he plainly had nothing better to do. He heaved himself up, and followed Tyris through the gently falling snow. The paths in the village formed a ring as they lead from one house to the next, and Tyris paced around it, needing the movement to keep warm.
“How is Jenka going?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Rejan’s said. “She seems to be struggling and crying a lot. Is that normal for having a baby?”
Tyris didn’t know. “Does her mother seem worried?”
Rejan tipped his head to one side for a moment then shook his head. “Not worried exactly. But she’s strained.”
“I’m sure that’s normal,” Tyris reassured him. “Jenka will be fine.” He winced inwardly. He shouldn’t be giving such assurances when he knew nothing about any of this.
“I just want to be there with her!” Rejan’s voice rose. He stuck out his bottom lip and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Then go,” Tyris said.
“I can’t.” Rejan changed from impassioned to desolate in a second.
“Because of Jenka’s father?”
Rejan nodded.
Why was he the one out here trying to help this boy? He barely knew him, and he certainly didn’t know enough about the family situation to comment. But perhaps that was why it would be better coming from him. Everyone else accepted the way that Belac treated Rejan. They were used to it. Seeing it from the outside, it seemed unacceptable.
“What can he do to stop you?” Tyris asked.
“He told me to get out.” Rejan said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Right, but what do you think he would’ve done if you’d said no?”
“I couldn’t do that! He’s bigger than me. And older. I can’t say no.” A small amount of uncertainty crept into his voice.
“There’s always going to be someone bigger and older than you. Are you going to let them stop you from doing what you want? Are you waiting for the day when you’re bigger and older? Because I can tell you, by then, you’re too old for half the things you want to do.”
Rejan stared at him, his mouth hanging open.
Tyris hid a smile. “Being bigger and older doesn’t give someone the right to bully you. Yes, sometimes people with more experience have something valuable to offer, and it’s worth listening to and considering their advice. Other times, it’s obvious their concerns are about their own issues, not yours. Then you need to do what’s right for you and those you love.”
Hmm, that was good advice. Perhaps he should be listening to it himself.
“But I don’t want to upset Jenka by arguing with her father,” Rejan wavered.
Was it concern for Jenka, or an excuse born out of fear? A bit of both probably. “Do you think her father is concerned about upsetting her? Does he have her best interests at heart? Which do you think will upset her more, you standing up to her father for both of you, or you being absent from the birth of your child?”
“But…” Rejan trailed off, out of excuses.
Tyris threw in one last comment, just for good measure. “Rejan, you’re about to become a father. You’re going to have responsibility for a helpless little infant who will look up to you for everything in life. How can you help your baby if you can’t even stand up to its grandfather?”
Rejan drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders, adding a few inches to his height. “I’m going to do it.”
“Good,” Tyris said.
They had come full circle in the path around the village and now neared Jenka’s parent’s house. Rejan took off at a run then paused and turned around. “Thank you.”
Tyris just waved him on.
Rejan burst through the door, not bothering to knock.
Tyris lingered in the shadows. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he wanted to see that this ended well. He’d encouraged Rejan to act uncharacteristically. If things went badly, he should be there to help.
“What are you doing back here?” Belac’s voice boomed loud enough for Tyris to hear it clearly. “I thought I told you to stay out?”
He strained to hear Rejan’s reply. “I’m here to see Jenka.” His words sounded determined, even if his volume wasn’t.
“What do you think you can offer my daughter, a little wimp like you?” Tyris winced at the words, expecting the door to open and Rejan to come flying back out.
“I gave her a baby, didn’t I? How many men here have managed to do that in the last decade? Would you rather she went through a string of partners with the chance that she’d never be a mother?”
Tyris grinned. Apparently Rejan had more backbone than he thought.
There was a stunned silence. Tyris began to think Rejan had won, when Belac spoke up again. “A baby’s nothing but a liability when you have a house that’s falling down, and you struggle to keep your paths cleared of snow each day. How do you think you’re going to support a family?”
“That’s ridiculous,” Rejan said. His voice grew stronger each time he spoke. His shout almost matched Belac’s this time. “We were doing just fine. Just because Jenka wanted to be near her mother for the birth, doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with our house. As soon as our baby is born, we’re going home! Now get out of my way, I’m going to see her.”
“Over my dead body! This is my house, and you’re not welcome here. Get out!”
Tyris held his breath.
He heard a door bang against a wall and peered around the corner. Had Rejan fled the house?
The front door was still firmly closed.
“What is going on out here? This is supposed to be a birthing space, not a war zone. Jenka needs peace and calm to be able to focus on her baby.” Tyris recognised Talla, Jenka’s mother, as much by her tone as her voice.
“He’s not good enough for her,” Belac said, but the angry tone had drained from his voice.
“What you think about the matter is irrelevant.” Talla scolded. “Jenka chose him, and they’re having a baby together. He’s here to stay, so get used to it.”
“Why should I?” Belac’s tone was surly. “They can be together all they like, but this is my house, and what I say goes.”
“It’s my house too. I worked to build it just as much as you did. If you can’t keep the peace, then get out. And stay out until the baby’s here!”
Tyris hid a smile and ducked behind the corner as the front door opened, and Belac exited, muttering to himself. He hung back in the shadows. Being seen at this point would not be pleasant.
“Come in Rejan, Jenka’s been asking for you.” Talla said calmly.
“Is she okay?” Rejan asked anxiously.
“Of course she is, but it’s her first baby; it’s going to take a while.”
Tyris slipped away, content that he’d succeeded. Rejan was in, Belac was out. Hopefully the young boy would approach future confrontations with his father-in-law with more confidence.
He headed back to the hall, feeling rather pleased with himself. And hoping there was some soup left. He was hungry.
The light from the hall and the sight of Marlee standing
in the window waiting for him warmed Tyris enough to realise he was freezing. Marlee’s face brightened when she saw him. He hurried into the hall as fast as he could.
The bowl of soup she held out warmed his hands as he took it. He dipped some bread and swallowed it hungrily.
“Belac arrived a few moments ago, looking furious. Is everything okay?” Marlee asked.
Tyris chuckled. “Rejan stood up to him. Told him that he’d been good to Jenka and given her a child, and he intended to be part of her life. And when Belac kept arguing, her mother came out and told him to get out.”
Marlee shared his amusement. “It’s about time he stood up to him. Did you find out how Jenka’s doing?”
“I’m not sure. Her mother said she was doing well, but that it would take a while.”
Marlee nodded. She didn’t seem worried. “Do you want a game of chess while we wait?” she suggested.
The next several hours passed pleasantly. They played chess, ate, and sat by the fire chatting with the other villagers. When it began to get dark outside, someone lit the oil lamps hanging on the wall, bathing the room in a warm glow.
An amorphous feeling he couldn’t quite name swirled in Tyris’s brain. It hit him like a sledgehammer. Contentment. He felt completely at home and content. There was nowhere he’d rather be right now. And considering he was miles from home on a backward hick planet with no technology except for his broken spaceship, that said something.
He slipped his arm around Marlee’s shoulders as she chatted to Jaimma about knitting, and she looked up at him with a smile, pausing mid-sentence. And that felt right too. The connection he felt to her amazed him, as though she said something to him without words.
Beren pulled out his harmonica, and Jaimma put down her knitting and went to sit beside him, adding her light, clear voice to his tune. Marlee’s fingers flew over her needles, and the tiny circle of knitting became recognisable as a little hat. A few last stitches and it was finished. She held it up for him to admire.
Tyris took it from her, turning it over in his hands. The wool felt so soft, far softer than the jumper she’d nearly finished knitting for him at home. And so tiny. “Will it fit?” he asked doubtfully.
“Well, it might be a bit big at first, but he or she will soon grow into it.”
“A bit big!” He couldn’t believe that a human, even a baby one, could be so tiny.
Marlee giggled. She took the hat and stretched it wide with her fingers, so he could see the circumference clearly. “It looks plenty big enough for something that has to come out of a woman’s body,” she teased.
Tyris blanched. “Right. When you put it that way...”
The door to the hall opened, snow blowing in after Jenka’s sister. Everyone’s head turned in her direction.
“How’s she doing?” Nerris asked, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
Petra came in and filled a bowl with soup. Was she deliberately keeping them waiting? She wolfed it down, and Tyris decided she was probably just hungry. With her mouth still half full of food, she said, “Jenka’s holding up well, but it looks like it’s going to be a long night, Karla doesn’t expect the baby to be here until the early hours of the morning.”
Disappointed sighs and murmurs echoed around the room.
“How long does it take to have a baby?” Tyris asked quietly, suddenly conscious of his own ignorance.
“Anywhere from an hour to a couple of days. Nature is remarkably imprecise when it comes to these things,” Marlee said.
“Well kids, no point in everyone having a sleepless night,” Nerris said. “Looks like we’ll have to wait until tomorrow for news.”
The hall’s occupants began packing up the food and shuffling off to their own houses. A day that began with an air of excitement and anticipation threatened to end without resolution.
Marlee helped clear the food from tables and collected up her knitting supplies. Nearly everyone else had already gone. Belac sulked near the fire. A couple of Jenka’s friends sat on cushions with their backs to the wall, and at least five of the council members, including Yasmyn, lingered.
“Not everyone is going home,” Tyris pointed out.
Marlee nodded. “Some people will wait it out, mostly family members and friends.”
“Can we stay?” Tyris asked.
“You really want to?” Marlee tilted her head to one side, her voice uncertain.
Tyris shrugged. He shouldn’t care, he barely knew Jenka, but after talking to Rejan, he’d be disappointed to miss the end of this saga. “I kind of feel involved now. It doesn’t seem right to leave.”
Marlee smiled. “I’d love to stay too.”
A different atmosphere settled over the hall now. Quieter and less excited. Yasmyn bought some thin mattresses out of a cupboard and handed them out. There weren’t enough for everyone, but no one minded sharing. Tyris curled up next to Marlee and watched her create more stitches on her needles.
People talked quietly for a while, no one wanting to sleep in case they missed something. But eventually, one by one, people nodded off. Marlee yawned, and put down her knitting, and Yasmyn extinguished all but one of the lanterns.
*****
A SOUND JERKED TYRIS AWAKE. He shook his head and stared around the room blankly. Where was he?
Rejan stood alone in the doorway, holding up a lantern. His jubilant face said it all. “I’m a father!”
His announcement woke the rest of the room. A small cheer went up, and within moments, a crowd gathered around him asking questions.
Rejan answered as best he could. Jenka and her baby daughter were safe and well and resting comfortably. He’d wanted to bring the baby to show everyone, but Talla said the cold would not be good for her. He hoped everyone would come and visit them in the morning. Then he hurried home to his new family.
Marlee and Tyris walked home in the silence of the early morning.
The snow had stopped now, and the air was clear. An unbelievable number of stars stretched across the sky. A sight he’d never seen from the ground before.
Beside him, Marlee was silent. Her head down, she didn’t see the wonder of the stars. Maybe they weren’t wondrous to her, but Tyris suspected something bothered her. She’d been quiet when Rejan arrived, and though she’d congratulated him with a genuine smile, she’d barely spoken since then.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Marlee nodded. “Of course.”
Tyris opened the door to their home, waiting for her to step through before closing it. Inside was only slightly warmer than outside. The fire had gone out long ago. Marlee busied herself lighting it, not saying anything.
What was bothering her? He thought they’d had a lovely evening. They did have a lovely evening. Right up until Rejan arrived, his face shining with joy about his baby.
That was it. “It’s the baby isn’t it?” he asked softly.
“What is?” her voice wavered.
“You’ll have a baby one day, Marlee. I’m sure of it,”
Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. “No, I won’t. And the sooner I get used to that fact, the better off I’ll be.”
How could he tell her about the thoughts he’d been having lately? About watching her birth, holding their baby in his arms? The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that he wanted this. He wanted to have a baby with Marlee.
How had that happened? How had he gone from being her friend to wanting to settle down and have a family in a few short months? He couldn’t deny the strength of the feelings though, and what’s more, he didn’t want to.
The only problem would be convincing her.
And then it came to him, an idea so perfect he didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. He knew exactly what to give her for her birthday.
“Don’t give up hope, Marlee,” he said softly. “One of these days soon, your luck is going to change.”
She looked at him as if she appreciated the effort, but her mood d
idn’t lift. Tyris pulled her close for a hug but didn’t say anymore.
He didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
“SO, DO YOU WANT TO head over to the hall?” Tyris asked, his voice a touch too casual.
Marlee hid a smile. So they’d involved Tyris in their plan. She’d thought as much when she saw Jaimma chatting to him in the snow a few days ago.
“I don’t know. The weather looks pretty bad. Maybe we could have a quiet night in? I need to finish knitting the last arm of this jumper.” She couldn’t resist seeing how persistent he would get, though the weather was a valid excuse. The wind was picking up, and snow fell heavily.
“You can knit later, there’s no rush on the jumper,” Tyris said. “I wanted to catch up with Nerris to, um, challenge him to another game of chess. He’s been on a winning streak lately.”
His cute, hopeful expression won her over. She put her knitting down. “Okay, just let me do my hair.”
In the bedroom, she pulled a brush through her hair. Hearing shuffling around in the other room, she grinned. What did he have planned? She hadn’t expected a present, but it was clear he was up to something.
“Ready?” she called out, giving him warning before she stepped out from behind the curtain.
“Yep, let’s go.” Tyris slipped his arm through hers. She couldn’t see any packages. It must be something small. Tyris looked pleased with himself, and her curiosity grew.
Outside, the swirling wind had already added several inches of snow to the paths they’d cleared that morning. Hopefully it wouldn’t grow heavier or it might be difficult to get home later.
As they neared the hall, shadows bobbed and ducked in the windows. The lookouts were all alert. All was silent as Tyris opened the door then, “Surprise!” a hundred voices called out.
Jaimma hugged Marlee then Tyris for good measure. “Happy Birthday, Marlee!”
Her mother, Nerris, Janey, and all her friends and family followed suit.
With one notable exception. Nelor kept his distance, sitting with Brenda and her children on the other side of the room. A moment’s sadness overshadowed her enjoyment, but she refused to let it take hold. She would talk to Nelor later, hug him, and tell him it was okay. For the first time she realised the lingering sadness plaguing her since their separation was gone. When had that happened?