Amy gives me a mock innocent look. “How d’you mean?”
“Tell me the truth,” I demand.
Clem dimples and looks at Amy, and the twins just scuff their boots on the flagstone floors and grin sheepishly.
Clem cocks her head at my sister. “Shall I tell him, or should you?”
“I will, it’s better that he’s pissed at me, not you.” Amy laughs and then turns to me. “I’d like to say we all decided to come home off our own bat. But the truth is, it was Clem who made it happen. She rang and told me she was working for you and that you needed us here. Honestly, she was so lovely, so non-judgmental, and y’know, she was right to call. It’s terrible how we all just ran away after Dad died and left you to carry the load. After we’d talked, I contacted the twins and here we are. Just in time for Mom’s fiftieth. And Otis,” her mouth works and her lower lip wobbles, which makes her tusks wobble too, “I’m sorry we haven’t been here for Mom—for you— but I promise we’re going to make up for it now.”
CLEM.
As I sit at the kitchen table decorating the picture frame for Sally’s birthday, having gone back to the market to replace the craft supplies I lost, I can’t help smiling at the action taking place around me.
Four orcs, stirring, tasting the butter cream, cracking eggs and adding it all into the big bowl. Getting into a flour fight. Green faces dusted in white. And all of them laughing.
So much laughter, as they prep Sally’s birthday cake.
Otis is in charge, of course, firing out directions. “Whip it until it’s light and airy, yes, yes, sieve the flour before adding it,” he instructs the twins, smiling his head off the while.
He biffs his brothers when they argue, and they cuff him back.
At times, all four siblings fall into their own dialect, and then they remember and translate for me.
“That’s rude of us, sorry.” Amy glances my way with an apologetic smile.
“I love that you are all talking in your own language. It’s beautiful.”
“I’ll teach you more words if you like,” Otis offers.
“Let’s start with happy birthday,” I suggest. “How do you say that?”
“Hegi Bethidara,” they all chorus.
“Hegi Bethidara,” I repeat. “Yeah, it sounds kind of similar.”
“We have words that we share, which come from roots in the English language. From back when orcs and humans intermingled harmoniously,” Nathaniel says.
“And we will again,” Otis adds. “Want to lick the spoon?” He waggles his eyebrows at me suggestively.
“Get a room,” Amy laughs.
“We have already.” Otis grins. I look at Otis; he’s turned a darker shade of green, and my cheeks are burning bright enough to light up the room without any help from lumen gas.
The twins roll their eyes. “Finally the old man finds lurvvvve,” Dwayne says.
“I’m not fucking old,” Otis growls. “But yeah, okay.” He comes and takes my hand. “Clem and I are together. It’s serious. In fact, we’re mates.”
“Are you getting married?” Nathaniel asks.
“Erm, yes, I hope so, I mean if she’ll have me,” Otis blusters.
I squeeze him tight, “I’ll have you any day of the week, green guy.”
Everybody laughs. “So where’s the ring?” Amy asks.
“We’ll go choose it after Mom’s birthday,” Otis says, “Won’t we, Clem.”
I nod enthusiastically.
