“Way taller, like feet taller, giant tall!”
“Have you seen your parents?”
I felt Ethin’s mocking gaze on my back. Meat and vegetables sizzled in the skillet that had felt so foreign in my hands until recently. We ateration packs, slop the droids threw in a microwave, full of all the nutrition we technically needed but with none of the taste or texture. Cooking had taken getting used to. Being in a kitchen with dishes and food and spice racks was intense, but became more normal every day.
“Your dad isn’t that much taller than your mom, which means you will probably be around the same height,” Ethin declared.
“No way; they just didn’t eat enough vegetables.”
Ethin laughed, and I sighed as this argument continued until well after lunch. In the end, it ceased with my suggestion of a movie day. Ethin and I had the day off. Malwin wanted to watch some horror movies after catching Ethin watching one the other day. That got them off the topic of height, and we found ourselves curled up on the couch with the blinds closed and the holo screen on.
Sir Scribbles sat on Malwin’s lap. That was his boy, and I half expected the cat would gnaw someone’s hand off if they so much as looked at him funny. Lady Mildred preferred Ethin, deciding that he could hold her throughout the movie even if it made his arm go numb. He wouldn’t move her either because it was“against cat law.”
At five, Dinah came in. Knocking lasted about a week. She came and went as she pleased, as we did to her place right down the street. Malwin really could be wherever he wanted, but we scheduled ourselves to work on opposite days, so there was always someone around.
“Mommy, we’re watching scary movies,” Malwin declared.
“Without me?” Dinah kicked off her shoes and shuffled into the living room.
A living room that had been plain for months because Ethin and I couldn’t believe we’d be here for long. Then we got another chair and pictures and the cats and their toys. The house filled with pieces of us, making a home neither of us had until now. Sometimes I caughtEthin standing simply observing the space like he expected everything to disappear. When I held him, he looked at me the same way, like he did in the caves, terrified and unsure. So I would kiss him, his muscles eased, and I held him for as long as he needed to remember we were alright.
“We can watch another before you go,” Ethin offered. “Unless you have plans.”
“I figured we’d grab dinner, but if Malwin isn’t hungry yet,” she gave him a questioning look.
“I’m good. We had veggie and beef wraps for lunch. Me and Ethin picked them from the garden!” Malwin exclaimed.
“You did?” Dinah sat in the plush beanbag chair Malwin sometimes napped on with the cats. “Put something good on, Roys, actually scary.”
“Super scary!”
“Super scary it is.” I searched through the movies and picked what Dinah and Malwin agreed on.
Malwin got more comfortable in my lap, and Ethin leaned against my side. Our hands caught between us, fingers intertwined, because some days, when we were like this, Ethin needed something to hold on to. His eyes glazed over, lost to a time and place that couldn’t be forgotten. The Colony cut a hole in his heart, rotten to the core, and though we filled the surrounding spaces, nothing could remove that core. We understood that, and like me, he just had to try. Try to think of the good and all we had.
After the movie ended, we went outside with them. Malwin adjusted his shoes, which he always tied himself and reminded anyone who tried to help. He hugged me. “Bye Daddy! I love you.”
“I love you too.” I squeezed him tight even though I could go down to see him whenever I wanted.
Malwin went to Ethin. “Bye Ethin! I sometimes love you.”
Ethin knelt to flick his nose. “I love you every other day.”
Laughing, he threw his arms around Ethin’s neck, where he whispered he actually loved Malwin every day. Malwin said it back, and Ethin always got this look like he couldn’t believe it. His arms tensed, and he buried his face in Malwin’s shoulder for a second longer before letting go.
Malwin took Dinah’s hand, waving as they walked out the door. “See you later! Don’t eat all my broccoli.”
“It’ll be gone before morning,” Ethin teased.
Malwin blew a raspberry, then he and Dinah moved further down the street. A safe street lit by lamplight through the row of homes, each different from the one before. The architects built in whatever way they wanted, creating a variety of homes that somehow fit the owner’s personalities. Unlike Earth, where the homes were iron boxes stacked side to side, one on top of the other, rusting and leaking who knew what.
Sometimes I could still smell it when I woke in the middle of the night and thought I was back in an unknown room with a stranger and synthetics in my veins. Then I’d drift into a world of laughter and light, none of it real, all of it a fantasy that would come crashing down in the worst ways.
In those waking hours, I’d forget to breathe until Ethin woke and his voice murmured sweet nothings against my ear. He would hold me, and I’d squeeze, and he promised I was safe, I was clean, and if Malwin was home, I had to get up to see him. Seeing him sleeping peacefully put me at ease, then I climbed back into Ethin’s arms that fought the nightmares whenever they dared to return. And I did the same for him.
We weren’t perfect. Time didn’t heal all wounds. A year certainly wasn’t enough to heal ours. If anything, they got worse for a time, because neither of us believed in our comfort. Ethin was tense, as he had been when we first met. That fuse, burning bright, caught fire toeverything. He bickered and fought and believed every noise was someone out to get us, that we weren’t safe and this was all a ploy. I couldn’t fault him because I had my suspicions too.
But we got therapists. We talked. We went through our days hand in hand. Maddy visited, and that settled him a great deal. Things settled and life was nice, so the nightmares weren’t always there, but when they slipped through, we had each other.
