by Lynn Rae
“I’ll forward your request when you get back from this trip. Think about it while you’re gone. You’re a good writer when you actually try. There’s no way you’ll have the time to write if you’re surveying, we both know that.”
“I’ve never found it easy to think about proper sentence structure when I’m freezing in a popup tent on some mountainside.”
Gina laughed and called to her boys who had somehow maneuvered themselves to perch on his feet where he’d lifted them up and down, stomp by stomp, the suction sounds of the wet peat all that much louder with the added weight. “Come on guys, you’ve given Colan enough of a physical workout. He’s not used to all the grabbing.”
Glad Gina Healy had no idea of who he’d been recently grabbing and where he’d been grabbing her, Colan swung each boy away and let them drop to their feet. Only a little mud splashed each time, but both Perrin and Ermil cackled as if it was the cleverest trick on the planet.
“Bring us back something, Tor!” Ermil called out as he followed his mother down the street toward the science station.
Dodging a wallowing transport mired in a mud pit, despite the driver’s enthusiastic application of the accelerator, Lia made her way down the main street of Pearl. She ducked splattering mud from the transport’s whirling tires and passed the nearly complete building located across from Joli’s restaurant. She’d heard one of the new settlers, upon exposure to the looming forests and adhesive sludge of Gamaliel, had decided that prospecting wasn’t for her, and she’d promptly leased her portion rights and reinvested the money in a small lot in Pearl where she was now busily building a new restaurant. Or it might be a supply store, depending on whatever supplies arrived first.
Lia had been immersed in work for the last few days, so she decided to leave the admin complex to get lunch at Joli’s. She hadn’t been in that establishment since she’d been rudely snubbed, but she felt inclined to show some support in the face of Joli’s imminent competition.
Pulling open the uneven door, she entered the long, dim room scented with fermentation and muck. There were a few empty tables, and Lia found one near an available light source. She wanted to be able to see her food as she ate it; although, perhaps some of Joli’s patrons preferred not to look that closely. A young woman with red hair and caramel skin sauntered over and gave Lia a faint nod. Pasting on a smile, Lia requested the day’s special, water, and a half pint of beer. The server flicked a towel at the table and left toward the kitchen’s swinging doors, hopefully to place the order and not take a long break out back.
It had been two weeks since Colan had left town, and Lia was still angry with him. She shifted in her seat, reminded of her encounter with him in this very room. Stars, she was reminded of him and his surly ways whenever she simply walked down the street or passed the science station. She should just go back to the dining hall at the admin center as any reasonable person would have; more variety of dishes, better-prepared food, and much more comfortable surroundings. However, the chance of encountering Stev again, and his efforts to make conversation and rekindle something between them, wore her out. So, here she was, expanding her horizons. Sort of.
The red-haired woman was back, surprising Lia by placing a glass of water and a small tumbler of beer on the table. She didn’t even slosh any vindictively. Nodding thanks, Lia wished she had someone to talk with so she wouldn’t sit here and dwell on how Colan Nestor was an uncivilized scoundrel. An uncivilized scoundrel who had learned her body well in one brief encounter. One and a half brief encounters. Interludes she was ashamed to keep reliving every night before she tried to fall asleep, only to find herself too agitated for anything other than self-administered relief. Heat flared up her cheeks, and Lia wondered if she should have sat in the shadows. She had to stop thinking about him, stop wanting to see him again, hoping that he’d return and beg forgiveness. It wasn’t going to happen.
The door opened with an angle of bright, midday light, and Lia watched as Wayde and Rob ambled in, caked with mud up to the knees and festooned with smears of crushed foliage everywhere else. They glanced around at the muted greetings flung their way by some of the patrons and shuffled to her table, identical grins of delight creasing their faces.
“Wayde, Rob! Where have you been? Sit down!” Lia greeted them happily, genuinely glad to see them and relieved she wouldn’t have to sit alone and dwell on how delicious Colan’s scent was. She never planned on getting close enough to him to take a sniff again, the insensitive clod.
The two men trooped over and dropped into a couple of chairs, requesting water from the server who had trotted over.
“Good to see you, Lia. You miss us?” Wayde asked after he drank half his glass, some water dribbling through the stubble on his chin.
“Of course I did. I’m still waiting to finish our hike.”
Rob nodded and requested stew from the server who had returned with Lia’s dish, and Wayde requested the same along with a pitcher of beer and three glasses. Lia could see the two older men were tired and thirsty, so she let them drink as she inspected her plate. It wasn’t steamed curlers, it wasn’t seasoned lingon strands, but instead, there was a greenish gelatinous mound wriggling on her dish with wizened brown lumps embedded deep inside. It smelled vaguely like a petrochemical, and she wondered for a moment if the staff in the kitchen was playing a prank on her in retaliation for simply existing.
“Oh, sharple pie’s on the menu.” Wayde nodded as he inspected Lia’s meal. “I should have ordered that.”
Lia tried to feel an echo of his enthusiasm, but the thing did not resemble a pie in any way. There was no discernible crust, and the edges of the greenish mass oozed over the edge of the plate and disintegrated.
“So where were you two?” Lia asked as she took a sip of beer. She might be heading to the dining hall after this uneaten lunch.
“Out with the new folks at their camp. Crash right in the middle of the best stands of cockers within a thousand kilometers. They’re clearing and setting up these fancy blow up buildings, have running water and power already.” Wayde shook his head and marveled at it as Lia cautiously inserted a spoon into the side of the shivering sharple. Was it a section of some organism or an actual prepared dish?
She knew exactly where the new settlement was. She had requisitioned supplies and finalized the lottery assignments of portions to every person who’d applied for the move. She also knew Colan had gone along as guide, conveniently leaving town the day she’d broken two of her best plates and ordered him from her home in an overheated huff. Two weeks ago. Two long weeks without a glimmer of communication. Blast him and his mesmerizing mouth.
The door opened again, and Lia squinted at the person striding in, silhouetted for a moment in Gamaliel’s glaring sunlight before being revealed as none other than Colan Nestor. Her stomach contracted painfully, and she knew it wasn’t because of the sight of the wobbling sharple. He didn’t falter as he walked over to their table, his face impassive as he glanced at her, and then greeted the other men.
“Sit down, Tor. Lia was kind enough to offer a seat to us. Look at the sharple!” Wayde chortled.
Colan’s gaze avoided her as he took a chair and pulled it to the farthest point from her at the table. Lia wanted to curl her lip at his obviousness. Instead, she took a tiny bite of sharple, its gooey, somehow simultaneously slick and sticky texture capturing her attention. She didn’t think she’d be able to spit it out if she wanted to. It dissolved on her tongue, and she swallowed reflexively, missing the flavor as it somehow disappeared from her palate.
“We found some mighty good shells, Lia,” Rob spoke up around a bite of stew. He wriggled his eyebrows, and she smiled at him, not noticing the glowering man seated a meter away. Two weeks gone and not a message or ping or call. He was a boor.
Rob reached into a grimy pocket and retrieved a tiny pouch, which he proceeded to gently empty on an unused plate, the little mineralized exoskeletons gleaming. He brushed his fingertips over t
hem and sparkles of reflected light danced upward. Lia congratulated him and wondered when Colan was going to acknowledge her presence.
Pouring himself a beer, Colan drained half of it in one go, swallowed hard and then shook his head slightly, his gaze on her the whole time. His silence irritated her to new levels of discomfort.
“How were things with Padev?” he finally asked with a creaky voice. He sipped some more beer and cleared his throat. Padev had been appointed community liaison in his absence, and Lia had enjoyed getting to know the man. He was exponentially more communicative than Colan, and he dressed in fully-fastened clothing.
“Fine. He knows how to message people promptly. Returns calls. Can string together more than three or four words.”
Colan licked his lips, and her belly fluttered. Maybe it was the sharple settling. “Sorry to disappoint, I’m back now. You’ll have to deal with me.”
Lia narrowed her eyes and set down her spoon. “Why? You don’t want the job, and Padev and I have developed a good working relationship.” And he doesn’t expect me to kiss him and wrap my legs around him before he’ll behave, she wanted to add but wasn’t interested in scandalizing either Wayde or Rob who were mechanically eating and drinking as they gazed at the little plate of shells.
“Forget Padev.”
She couldn’t win this battle. It wasn’t her call, and she was hardly going to run to the magistrate and explain why she didn’t want to work with Colan Nestor, the hero who’d talked the bomber down and saved Pearl. “There isn’t much to do. We have everything caught up. It’s been very productive.”
“We should meet.”
“No need, there’s no pressing business.”
“Yes there is. I’ll be by this afternoon.”
“I won’t be there.”
“Where will you be?”
Lia stopped talking, too irritated to trust her responses any more. Both Wayde and Rob finally noticed the tension and stared back and forth between them.
“Anywhere you aren’t, Colan Nestor.” She stood, unwilling to pretend this was a pleasant lunch any longer. “I’m glad to see you Wayde and Rob. I’ll call about that hike.”
She gathered her things and pushed her chair back in, trying to hit Colan’s shins with it under the table. But he wasn’t there. He stood too, following her to the bar where she tried to catch the server’s attention so she could pay her bill.
“Lia, listen—”
Pressing herself close to the pitted resin slab of the bar, she didn’t look at him, afraid of what she might see in his expression. Afraid of what she might not see. “No. I’ve been waiting to hear from you for fourteen days. That’s about thirteen days longer than I should have. So, no, I’m not going to listen to you now.”
The server arrived and told Lia her charges, and she shoved over several marks more than she owed, just so she could leave. At least he didn’t say anything else as she left, and she tugged on the sticky door with more force than she should have. Silent Colan, as usual.
Chapter 12
Colan relented and sent Lia a message. An actual, well-written message explaining he’d read all her reports and updated schedules and requesting she meet him so they could coordinate the next week of work. He hoped his professionalism and use of an electronic device to contact her would be impressive enough, or intriguing enough, that she would reply. It had been three hours since he’d sent it and there was no response.
He left his office at the science center where he’d been wasting time hoping she’d come to the door to unload some anger on him. He left her another message when he headed home, hating how he gave her updates on his location like a besotted fool. But what choice did he have? A besotted fool he was.
He’d been miserable and unsettled the whole time he was with the new settlers. He’d known as soon as he left Pearl he should’ve made contact with Lia and apologized. Stars, he’d known he should’ve apologized before he even left her rooms that morning. But he’d been too busy telling himself he didn’t care about her to stop himself.
It was a lie he kept repeating for several days as he dealt with all the minutia of moving a group of inexperienced people through a thick forest of symbiont trees. Once they’d arrived at the new camp and the settlers had settled themselves into, well, settling, he’d had fewer distractions and found himself really considering Lia. And his feelings. He hated thinking about his feelings. No matter how many excuses he tried to manufacture as he sulked in his tent at the new settlement, the only conclusion was he was terribly impressed by her and he wanted to be with her again. To see her, touch her, was all he could imagine; blast, he’d love to argue with her if it meant he was allowed to be near her.
He ruthlessly banished all recollection of how her body had felt during daylight hours, but when he was alone at night in his tent, she invaded his mind and his heart. But here it was fourteen days later, and she was justifiably uninterested in him. All he could think to do to impress her now was to send her a message and use correct coding. Pathetic.
He stopped for supplies at Rue’s. In addition to the basics, she had some good tomatoes, sweet peas, a small wheel of soft goat cheese, fresh soya, three eggs, and some tiny flasks of actual chili oil. He could make something with that. Passing Gina’s house with a wary glance, he used his gate in the fence to enter her backyard and access his house, hoping her boys hadn’t taken up residence while he was gone. Everything looked familiar when he unlocked the door; cluttered, small, unimpressive. Home.
Placing his fresh ingredients in the chiller and removing several items he should have thrown out before he’d left on his trip, Colan paused when he heard light footsteps scuttling up his ladder steps. Probably Ermil and Perrin come to see if he’d brought them anything from the new camp. He headed for the door, preparing himself for a barrage of questions and the infinite movements of two young boys.
He wasn’t prepared to see Liliane Frei at his door, scowl twisting her lips, her hair severely lashed around her skull. But she was beautiful, and the breath left his lungs in a little gust as he appreciated the sight of her.
“Ready for that meeting?”
“Now?” He knew he sounded stupid as she shook her head and put her hands on her hips. Those beautiful full hips he’d grasped when he’d moved inside her warm, wet body. She probably hated him and had erased the whole episode from her memory like a faulty spreadsheet.
“Now. Here or inside?”
“Inside?” Quirking her eyebrows, she walked past him and into his house, trailing a miasma of dissatisfaction. She stood in the middle of his living area, looking around, and all he could think about was that night he’d kissed her for the first time, how he’d touched her at her loud request, how she’d climaxed so quickly and enthusiastically. Oh, he’d blown the escape hatch with this situation.
“So, what matters did you need to discuss? If you actually read the reports and schedules as you claimed, you’d know very well that Padev and I have everything in perfect order.”
“Ah, I—”
Lia took a breath and stared at him, her brown eyes alight with anger. “There’s no need for me to see you.”
He swallowed and tried to think of something to say which might make an impression on her, might make her receptive to the apology he wanted to give. She seemed too walled-off and irate for anything to penetrate. Not that he should be thinking about penetrating anything now.
“Nothing to say? Fourteen days and you have nothing?” Her voice rose, and he knew he was in for a stormy time.
“I didn’t know—”
“You didn’t know! Just because you want to live like a miserable hermit doesn’t mean you get to pretend everyone else does too. All the satellites were in perfect working order all this time, Colan. Ready to transmit any message, ping, or call you might have wanted to make. I checked the networks every day, every few hours, and nothing from you. Nothing!” Her voice cracked, and he ached when he saw tears glittering in her eyes.
&nbs
p; “Why didn’t you call me?” Oh, as soon as he said it he wanted to take it back. Lia blinked rapidly and one tear broke from her lashes and trickled down her cheek. Colan felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. He wished someone would so he could collapse on the floor and have some physical misery to balance out the emotional distress.
“I didn’t call you because you made it abundantly clear you didn’t like me. You would have ignored me or blanked my request.”
Colan shook his head. He would have relished any contact from her, would have abased himself at the first opportunity, the first contact she made. He needed to know she wanted to try. With a start, he realized that was exactly what she was doing here. She reached out to him and dreaded his rejection yet again.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t call you or message you or tell you I was leaving town.” A tiny part of the apology he wanted to make, and the smidgen of relief gave him more courage.
“I thought you couldn’t wait to get away from me. That you hated what we did. Regretted it,” Lia whispered and wiped her fingers at her eyes.
“No, Lia, no.” Reaching out for her, he caught her hand and she let him hold it. She was shivering and cold. “I regretted what I said to you after. I regretted it so much I couldn’t figure out what I could say to make up for it. I’m sorry.”
Sniffing and shifting her thin fingers in his grip, Lia straightened her shoulders and stared at him. “That’s all you had to say, you closemouthed fool.”
“I am a fool. I was a fool to treat you that way. I’m sorry I hurt you.” This apology felt even better than the previous ones, and he took a step closer to her and then another when she didn’t flinch back. He lifted his other hand to touch her shoulder,