Clem agrees readily. Like spuds, fries are fries, everywhere.
After it’s all ready, the steaks perfectly cooked, the fries crisp and golden and the piggily lightly steamed, I plate up, then I get my home brew out of the fridge. “Pink ginger beer,” I explain, plonking glasses of fizzy candy pink liquid next to our plates.
“Wow, it’s so pretty. You made this too?”
“Mom used to make it for us as kids, and now I brew it to remember the good times. Bit of nostalgia, I guess.”
As we sit, she asks softly, “Why is your mom in care?”
Her candid question is unexpected. I blink.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she adds hastily, but I find that I reallywantto talk to Clem about my life.
As we eat, I explain. “Mom—Sally—used to be this amazing, funny, bright, competent orc. She was the best cook in the Labyrinth, the best gardener, she could grow things from even the smallest amount of soil. And she brought us all up with love and a firm hand.” I wave my fork toward the kitchen cupboards. “There’s still a wooden spoon in the drawer that we called Mom’s Devil Spoon.”
“Did she ever smack you with it?”
“No, but the threat was enough to keep us orclings in line. We were more scared of her than of Dad, funnily enough. He would make a lot of noise, but when Mom said in a low voice, ‘behave,’ you knew she meant it. She had so much inner strength.”
“What happened to that strength?”
I shrug, “When Dad died, she fell apart.” I stop for a moment. “He got caught in a fire on level three. We never found his body. Not even his wedding ring or his sheriff’s badge. We had no-one to bury. Which meant Mom could never grieve properly. Maybeif we’d found his body, or something of his, she’d have been able to let go.”
Clem’s eyes are full of empathy, so much so I can barely meet her gaze. “It’s so hard when a family member disappears and you never find out what’s happened to them.” she says softly. “You’re left with this tiny glimmer of hope that you can’t quite extinguish. Even though you suspect you’re wrong, you can’t quite give up. You have no closure.”
“I guess we both understand how that feels. You with your mom, me with my dad.” I glance up and we lock gazes, the kindness in her eyes sending warmth flooding through me. It’s so intense I force myself to focus on shoveling food into my mouth.
After another moment, she asks, “So, your mom hasn’t improved at all?”
I shake my head. “Her depression deepened as time went on. I’d come home from work, and if you think the house is untidy now, you should have seen it then. She’d just sit at the kitchen table staring into space, dishes unwashed, food not put away. She wouldn’t shower or tidy her hair or even get dressed unless I prompted her. Which, for a proud orc woman like Mom, was heartbreaking to see.”
“Especially while dealing with your own grief.”
I feel a muscle in my jaw working; her caring words are opening up feelings I’ve kept deeply buried.
“What about your brothers and sisters? Do they visit her much?”
I shake my head. “Dwayne and Nathaniel, the twins, disappeared to work on another level pretty much right after Dad’s funeral. They were only sixteen at the time, they couldn’t process it, so they ran away. My sister Amy stayed for a while, but then it got too much for her, so she scarpered to level five. There were lots of expectations to hold up the Cane way of life, toshow strength in the face of adversity, and they crumbled under the pressure. After that, it all landed on my shoulders.”
“And you’ve stepped up.”
“Yeah.” I stare at my plate, my brows drawn into a tight frown. “What choice did I have?”
“You could have upped and left like your siblings.”
“I would never do that,” I growl. “As the eldest, it’s my responsibility to support Mom and take on the role of sheriff. Dad would have wanted that.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes.
Suddenly she bursts out, “So the fire your dad died in, how did it happen?”
“A pack on the east side of level three were making illegal drugs. When they realized they were being investigated, they set fire to the lab. Dad got caught inside. The lab exploded, and the heat of it incinerated him.”
I glance up to see her frowning. “I just don’t understand how it’s safe for Sammy to live with wolves, when wolves were responsible for your dad’s death.”
“Not all wolf packs are lawless. The Trojan pack are trustworthy. They’re ferocious, yes, but they are also fiercely protective toward younglings. They revere pregnancy in their mates above anything else. They will not let any harm come to Sammy.”
“What if it was wolves that mauled Jax. I asked him again today who attacked him and he said I didn’t need to know.”
