Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  Poor Hina. I wondered how hard she was being on herself. If her clan was rallying around her as mine had. If they were all as nervous as my clan was, worried that trouble would strike again out of nowhere.

  I didn’t realize I’d drifted off, considering my daughter’s abductor, until my surroundings swam into focus some minutes later. I blinked to find Cafir watching me.

  “A short mental journey?” she asked. “Where did you go?”

  “I was thinking about Matara Hina. I do that a lot.”

  “Do you need to confront her?”

  I blinked. “Not at all. I just wonder if she’s okay. I’m worried about how she’s doing.” I gazed at Anrel and suffered sorrow for Hina’s situation. “I feel a little guilty when I notice Kalquorian women staring at Anrel with so much hurt and want. I feel worse for Hina.”

  “It’s not your fault you were able to have a healthy baby girl when they couldn’t, Shalia.”

  I sighed. “It’s sad though. I mean, I could probably have another two or three daughters before I’m finished. More, perhaps. Hina can’t have even one, none who’ll live. I wish I could help.”

  Cafir gave me a long, considering look. “Perhaps you could help each other.”

  “How?”

  “You need closure on this issue with Hina. Hina would probably benefit from finding out that what she’s done is forgivable. Would you be willing to participate in her therapy?”

  I stared at her, my mouth wide open. I must have appeared utterly idiotic, but in true Dr. Cafir fashion, she continued to give me that patient, interested look she’s perfected.

  “I could do that? There’s an order that says she has to keep a certain distance from me and my clan. Wait, we could rescind that, right? Because if we can, yeah, I’d love to do whatever I can to help her.” I was jabbering a mile a minute as I grew more excited by the opportunity.

  “You need to discuss it with your clan,” Cafir said in her typical understated fashion. “Meanwhile, I’ll find out who Hina’s therapist is. If I can, I’ll make contact to discover if your participation would indeed be of any benefit to her. That’s supposing Hina herself will agree to it. You both have to profit from it.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk with the guys tonight.” I hugged myself. If Hina and her therapist were on board, I wouldn’t have to wonder about how life was going for her. I’d be there to see her improve.

  I’m attaching too many of my own supposed feelings if I were in Hina’s situation. I’m letting myself obsess over her well-being, because of how easily I identify with what she’s gone through. I hope she’ll be open to me helping her to a better emotional place.

  I was darned near jumping out of my skin with excitement when my clan got together at home. That was at dinner. The matter had potential to be shot down by my clanmates, so I was thrilled they were in decent moods.

  I waited to dive in. I asked about everyone’s day. I was interested in finding out if my mates’ pleasant dispositions stemmed from a generally decent round of work, or if their agreeable demeanors came from relief that they were done with responsibilities for the night. That sounds conniving, doesn’t it? I suppose it was, but I was a woman on a mission.

  Larten had the usual humorous observations of his trainees’ general worthlessness beyond being paperweights and doorstops. He had us laughing at the novice flubs that come with a new class. I’ve decided that it’s only a bad day for him if someone doesn’t act silly, which robs him of the chance to come up with a colorful insult or two.

  Seot reported his company is in line to get a couple new contracts for some new defensive technology he’s excited about. Mentally, he was in a good place too.

  Cifa had little to share that was noteworthy, which was fine with him. “No surprises, no calamities, no one screaming at me,” he chuckled. “I enjoy it when life goes as it’s supposed to. Oh, I heard from Ila that she’s approved Candy’s preliminary childcare training program.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” I was happy for my friend.

  “What about you, my Matara?” Seot asked, his gaze warm as he reached out to take my hand. “Did work and therapy go well?”

  “Both went great. I had an interesting development.”

  “Oh?”

  I told them about Dr. Cafir’s suggestion that I have therapy with Hina for both our sakes. “I like the idea of helping her out, but it would mean relaxing the proximity restrictions.”

  They were silent as they thought the matter over. Larten spoke first. “I have worries about it. Not where you’re concerned, my Matara, but I don’t agree with Matara Hina being close to Anrel. Not until she’s gotten farther in her recovery.”

  “The restraining order could be kept in place between Hina and our daughter, while allowing her and Shalia to interact in a supervised situation,” Seot mused.

  “I’m fine with that,” Larten said. “Although, if Matara Hina’s clan is present, I’d prefer to be there as well.”

  “Suspicious Nobek,” I said affectionately. “The men didn’t grab Anrel.”

  “I know, but I’m traumatized.” He pretended to tremble, turning what I knew were his very real anxieties into a joke.

  “I can insist on conditions, if Hina and her therapist agree to this. It can be me, her, and our doctors.”

  “I can juggle my responsibilities so Anrel can stay with me during those sessions,” Cifa offered.

  “Candy can do so too. She needs a live baby for some of the staff training anyhow. I’ve been hoping to show I trust her taking care of Anrel after what happened.”

  “An excellent suggestion,” Seot opined. He looked at the other men. They nodded. “All right. I have to say, my Matara, I’m impressed with your consideration for Matara Hina. You could have ignored her situation, letting her cope with it on her own. That you would be this unselfish makes me proud to be your clanmate.”

  I felt embarrassed to be praised so enthusiastically. “Meaning, you believed I was selfish before all this?”

  “Not for a second,” he laughed. “But you’ve gone beyond my expectations.”

  Sure, I’ve had issues accepting my good fortune with this clan. Yet most of the time it feels as if we instinctively know each other so well that there can be no surprises. I’m glad I can inspire the guys to sit up and take notice once in a while.

  January 29

  I had my first co-session with Hina and her therapist, Dr. Conyod, today. Once we were all in agreement and got the amended court order squared away, the doctors wasted not a single moment in putting us together.

  I got the idea it was more because of Conyod’s encouragement than Hina wanting to face me. At the outset, she was quiet, speaking in monosyllables. She appeared embarrassed. I couldn’t blame her. I’d have reacted the same.

  I like Conyod. He’s an earnest guy, with a gentle demeanor. He’s also quite handsome and bounding with muscles. His wavy hair reaches to his ogle-worthy butt. If my guys saw him, they might be jealous…though I’m not interested in any men but them. Conyod is kind from what I can tell, but he doesn’t smile often. He has a perpetually worried look on his face. It makes me wonder what’s the story behind the scenes of his life, but I have enough of my own concerns. I’m stretching myself enough with finding out if I can be of any help to Hina.

  “There is a lot going on with Matara Hina,” Conyod explained to Dr. Cafir and me after we’d performed the introductions and niceties. “Of course, there’s the profound grief that comes with losing a child. Even realizing the odds were against delivering healthy daughters, it didn’t make it easier.”

  “That was shocking,” Hina said in a low voice. “I was certain I was prepared for the worst. When it happened, it was as if someone had reached into my chest and ripped a piece of my heart out. When it happened the second time, it was just as awful.”

  “A second time?” I was startled. “I thought there was only the one daughter.”

  “I miscarried the second long before term but—w
ell, it still felt like a loss.”

  “It was a loss, and you have the entitlement to grieve. They were your children.” Conyod spoke gently. “You might have prepared yourself as much as possible, but it’s a phenomenal tragedy nonetheless.”

  She nodded. “I believed I was being ridiculous to feel it so intensely. If you know it’s probably about to happen, why should it be such a surprise? I was a fool. After I grieved for what should have been an appropriate amount, I pretended I wasn’t hurting. I hid it from my clan too, crying only when they weren’t around to see me.” Tears tracked down her cheeks.

  I swallowed the urge to cry with her. The pain that suffused her wanted to drag me in too.

  “Then there’s the pressure that comes with being a Kalquorian woman,” Conyod added, his expression filled with compassion. “First, the pressure to be fertile. Then the pressure to produce a living daughter who is also fertile. None are matters Hina has control over, yet she, similar to so many of our women, experiences guilt for having failed in that regard.”

  “We all have to cope with those fears,” my doctor concurred.

  Once again, I wondered about Dr. Cafir’s fertility. Could she have children? Did she have children? Had she given birth to daughters, dead or alive? Her caring look for Hina gave no indication.

  Hina gazed at me. “You have no idea what it’s like,” she whispered. “My three girlfriends from childhood are worse off than I am. I’m the sole member of group who is able to have children. When the rest learned they were infertile, it made them feel as if they were less as women. Less as people. Important clans no longer vied for them. They were still wanted by many clans because there are so few women, but not to the extent I was. I couldn’t talk with them afterward about my difficulties. As far as they were concerned, I shouldn’t have problems. I was fertile. I was wanted above all other women. I had no right to complain.”

  “That must have been tough.” I heard how weak my support sounded. “You needed friends to talk to, especially when you lost your girls. You had—oh, what’s your friend’s name, the woman I’ve seen you with on several occasions? Matara Oni, correct?”

  Hina dabbed at her face with a handkerchief. “She became my friend later, after my daughters passed on. We’ve shared a little since then, but it’s not gotten deep. Either she is better than moving past her pain than I am, or she’s better at hiding it.”

  Conyod recorded a note on his handheld. “At any rate, you had no one you felt close enough to in order to discuss the losses when they happened.”

  “Your clanmates? Your mother? Surely she would sympathize with some of the trials you’ve had,” I ventured. I knew most Kalquorian women’s clanships were arranged for them. It wouldn’t have surprised me to learn Hina’s attachment to her mates wasn’t strong.

  “My mother has been a source of strength, but the daughter she had lived. Her attitude is I should keep trying, though the odds are against me. Even though I don’t have the strength for another dead baby.”

  Yeah. I could see her point.

  “As for my clanmates, they have been wonderful to me. I’m positive they love me as much as I love them.” Hina’s smile was tremulous. “Still, each loss made me feel as if they’d struck a bad bargain. That I wasn’t what they’d signed on for. Then to have shamed them by trying to steal your child! All they’ve said is, ‘Tell us what we can do to help you heal’.” She welled up again and couldn’t speak for some time after that.

  “I’m glad they care,” I told her. “That was a big worry for me, that they weren’t taking your suffering seriously. Sorry, Dr. Conyod, but I’m afraid I don’t give men a lot of credit when it comes to such concerns.”

  “Shalia’s father abandoned her when she was a child,” Cafir explained. “Fears of such are what brought her to me.”

  “Ah.” Conyod appeared to understand. “None of your clanmates are military, are they?” I told him they weren’t. “Excellent. No one with abandonment problems should be clanned to soldiers. Deployments are difficult for those left behind to wait and worry. Thank the ancestors you don’t have to contend with such.”

  My doctor addressed Hina. “Shalia has not lost a child, but she’s come close to it. That’s why she has such empathy for your case, rather than anger. Perhaps you should hear her story?”

  Hina nodded, so I shared the tale of the It, the Bi’isil monstrosity that had invaded my body and tried to kill Anrel in the womb. Hina and Conyod exclaimed over the tale. I found myself with a renewed urge to protect my child from every danger. Which I can’t do. Somehow, I’m going to have to make peace with that.

  When I ended the story, Hina wrung her hankie in her hands as if she’d tear it to pieces. “After all that, I tried to take her from you! How can you not hate me?”

  “Because I understand near loss,” I answered. “I have a hint of the hole that losing a child would leave in a mother’s soul. I don’t claim to know the torment you’ve gone through, but I can relate to it.”

  Despite that, I don’t suppose Hina understands why I can’t hate or even dislike her. But she accepted my intentions are valid and agreed with no reservations to more co-therapy sessions.

  It’s a good start, I think.

  January 30

  Life continues on a pretty nice upswing. I went to the office today to find most of my department has the equipment it needs to operate. I even have a couple of people on my staff now; a Dramok and an Imdiko who have a lot of experience with vid promotions. We spent the morning brainstorming the public relations campaign for the childcare that’ll soon be offered on the ships.

  With a ton of questions our meeting had brought up, I arranged to have lunch with Candy. I needed insight on how her department is shaping up. She’s been busy, what with lining up medic training for her caregivers and consulting with early education specialists.

  “Do you ever sleep?” I asked her with a laugh.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” she snickered as she gave Anrel a taste of her soup. “I’m also recruiting people to my cause of non-traditional clans. The inaugural meeting is in two weeks, and I’m hearing of interest in other chapters opening over all the continents. We’re going to do a vid conference so the whole gang can get on board at once.”

  “You’ve been campaigning hard,” I praised. “When do you plan to send me a file for an informational vid?”

  “After the first meeting. I want to hear from everybody on what it is they want to happen. You can do more if I figure out all the best talking points possible.”

  When our two-hour lunch was over—I promise, most of it was business!—we went back to our offices. Candy took Anrel with her so she could teach her initial class on basic baby care.

  I found Cifa hanging out in my chair behind my desk, tapping on his handheld computer. “Please tell me I didn’t forget a meeting.” I worried I’d kept him waiting.

  “No meeting, not for you. I snuck out of my office about ten minutes ago. I’m the creep who’s being a bad executive.”

  “Oh? What are you skipping out on?”

  “A conference with some of our vendors.” He pulled a face. “I hate negotiating prices on food and other supplies. Erom is much better at that.”

  “I’m sure he’s got the situation well handled. You can hide out with me any time.” I came around the desk and checked my computer for any incoming matters of interest.

  “I’d feel better about it if I was productive. Do you need to consult with me on any matters?”

  I was delighted, both with his suggestion and a message on my computer from my new head editor, Dramok Zendar. “It’s your lucky day, big guy. We’ve got the first pass for the promotional vid for the littlest boat in the fleet.”

  “It’s a ship, Shalia. There is a difference between a boat and a ship.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Four different letters. Let’s have a look at this spot, okay? The campaign kicks off in less than a week.”

  Cifa raked his fingers through
his hair, tangling the long black locks. “Don’t remind me. I’m losing sleep over it.”

  He’d been increasingly antsy as the small yacht’s official unveiling loomed closer. Seot had told me Cifa became a tad snappish with anxiety when any new promotion loomed on the horizon. “If his behavior is less than pleasant, don’t take it personally,” our Dramok counseled. “And be assured, I’ll beat it out of his hide if he hurts your feelings.”

  Forewarned, I was determined not to take Cifa’s rollercoaster emotions to heart. He had enough pressure with this launch without Seot taking him to task. Besides, most of Cifa’s sparks of temper hadn’t been aimed at people, unless they made the mistake of saying boats were ships. What really set him off these days were situations. Like having to meet with vendors who wanted to sell his company crates of wedi herbs, leshella, and imported rizpah caviar from the Yulsh Sea. Frankly, having to deal with that kind of mundane nonsense would make me grumpy too.