Paz swallowed. “Sorry. But yeah. Wacky, right?”
“It is wacky,” I said with a nod. “You know what they say. Truth is stranger than fiction.”
Paz snorted, leaning back on his butt and staring into the kitchen area. “You got that right. Hey, you need help in there, Linn’ar?”
“Yeah, we can lend a hand since Jaeyoung is benched,” Levi chimed in.
I sighed. I’d gotten dizzy again on the way back from the Sweetfields, so Linn’ar plopped me aside and informed me I wouldn’t be helping cook dinner. I didn’t bother arguing. As a pregnant person undergoing hyperspeed gestation, even I knew better than to push myself. I busied myself taking notes, chatting with my friends, and—the strangest activity of all—relaxing.
Linn’ar’s dark green head popped up above the counter. “Oh, that sounds delightful! Please, I would appreciate that.”
“Sweet. Uh, what are we doing exactly?” Paz asked.
I opened my mouth to reply sarcastically, but then thought better of it. If Paz was genuinely interested in helping and learning, I should support him, not tear him down.
“You’re makinggaraetteok—Korean rice cakes,” I explained.
He brightened, grinning. “Oh, sweet! That’s like the base fortteokbokki, right?”
I blinked. “That’s right. How did you know that?”
“Guys, c’mon. I was a diplomat for interplanetary relations, remember? I know a thing or two about other cultures.”
Smirking, Levi stood up to join him. “And yet he still talks about getting creampied at the dinner table. A classic polite society staple ineveryculture.”
“Hey, I never said I was polite. Let’s go pound rice cakes.”
I chuckled as they scampered to join Linn’ar at the counter. He gave them a quick lesson in pounding the rice dough lumps. Their fists weren’t as strong as my mate’s, but it was the effort and experience that mattered. This wasn’t about making a perfect meal—it was about spending time together as friends and family.
Linn’ar really turned me into a sap. But I kind of liked it that way.
As the trio pounded rice dough, Zat’tor returned to the den with a snoozing Dai’zee slung around his shoulder. She apparently fell asleep after soaking up too many rays.
Zat’tor sat next to me on a kofotta pillow. It was interesting to compare the Maeleons’ similarities and differences. Linn’ar was a sleek dark green, while Zat’tor was a robust teal color and Dai’zee was bright leaf-green. I knew Maeleons came in other colors, too; my mentor, Fhi’ran, was purple.
The possibilities felt endless on this planet. Maybe that was the hope and happiness Linn’ar instilled in me.
“Are you excited, human sibling?” Zat’tor asked.
The new term made me tilt my head. “Human sibling?”
Zat’tor’s orange eyes gleamed. “Yes. Linn’ar is my sibling, and you are Levi’s friend. That makes you my human sibling, does it not?”
I knew Zat’tor’s use of the word ‘sibling’ was different than ours. He meant a spiritual relationship, not a biological one. It took some getting used to, but it was refreshing after the strict, rigid relationship roles we had on Earth.
“I suppose it does,” I said, smiling. “And yes, I am excited. More than I ever thought I would be.”
Zat’tor’s tone took on a warm quality as he reminisced. “Levi was adamant he could not get pregnant. He proclaimed and argued and blared that he absolutely could not bear children.”
I chuckled at the mental image. “That sounds like Levi.”
“And yet...” Zat’tor pulled the sleepy Dai’zee off his shoulders and cradled her. His eyes were gentle with affection. “Here we are.”
The sight of parent and child opened the floodgates of my hormones. Fluffy fuzziness swaddled my chest. It was a secondhand oxytocin explosion.
“I can’t blame him for thinking it was impossible,” I conceded. “It was a shock to me, too. But I’m learning new things every day, and I’m doing it with someone I love. I can’t ask for more than that.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Zat’tor said.
