But she’ll grow out of that stage and she’ll remember all of the effort you’re making now.
She’ll know how much you love her and she’ll treasure your relationship.
He had turned the lock on the shop door the morning Pinky had sent her response, sidewinding to the back room to close his eyes in the dark for a few minutes, sucking in deep breaths until the burning threat of tears subsided.
Now Ruma was almost home.Just a few more hours.He’d come into work that morning in a good mood and was determined to make it stick for as long as she was here.
The previous night, the kitsune from the street had shown up on his doorstep, a most unusual order of events, as he’d already explained their arrangement would be curtailed for the duration of his daughter’s stay.Curtailed forever because you’ve maybe met someone.
“Hi. I . . . ah, just wanted to make sure you were doing okay?”
He had looked down in confusion as her fluffy grey tails spread like a fan, having no clue as to why hewouldn’tbe okay.
“I was downtown this afternoon and I saw . . . Well, I just wanted to check on you. Thought maybe you could do with taking your mind off things.”
The slit in his abdomen was invisible from the outside, if one didn’t know precisely what to look for. When the kitsune dropped her hand, scraping along his scales just beneath the hem of his shirt. Ranar leaned in to shield view from the busybody mothwoman across the street who had chosen that exact moment to survey her lawn, causing the kitsune’s hand to slide down until she bumped the sealed opening of his genital slit, making him groan. Her fingertips moved back and forth lightly, withjuuustenough pressure to make him squirm.Wait,what are you doing?You don’t have time for sex with the neighbors. Ruma will be home tomorrow, it’s time to purge your mind of everything that’s not pop music and anime.
“I just thought it would be the neighborly thing to do,” she added, biting her lip coquettishly when she felt the growing lump beneath his flesh.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly he got hard these days, how easy he was to arouse. Maybe he reallydidput his hand in a puddle of puberty.Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that you talk to someone online every day who would probably be a great match. Something to do with beautiful women who mobile order their coffee from outside the shop.
He had no idea what the kitsune was talking about nor why she was concerned for his welfare, but as her finger stroked up and down, teasing out the tip of one of his cocks right there in his doorway, Ranar shook his head forcefully, gripping her wrist and removing her hand.
”Ireallyappreciate that. More than you know. But I-I can’t. I have stuff I need to get done tonight. Rain check, though.”
Then, this morning, after calling his mother to remind her that he’d be closing early for Ruma’s arrival, his parents had been persuaded to stay home and play mahjong with the neighbors.
“I’m going to cook her a big welcome home dinner for tonight, all traditional food. Who knows the last time she’s had any.”
He’d closed his eyes, reminding himself to breathe through his nose at his mother’s proclamation, already knowing it would entail hours spent in the kitchen on the laborious dishes, after making countless trips out for the necessary ingredients.
“Why don’t you wait and find out what she’d like to have, Amma. I don’t want you going through all the trouble just to be upset when she doesn’t like something, like last time. It’s too much work and she’s just happy to see you. Spending timetogether is more important than grating fish and coconut for three hours.”
He sometimes wondered if it was guilt over her own assimilation into Western culture and subsequently that of her children’s that caused his mother to go through these bouts of insisting every aspect of Ruma’s visits be steeped in traditional naga culture, from the food she prepared to her agitation that her only granddaughter spoke the common tongue first and Nagilese a distant, hazy second.
His grandparents had emigrated from an island nation of teeming human metropolises and lush tropical jungles when his father was a young teen, starting the flower shop. Ranar’s mother had come after her marriage to his father was arranged, and as the first child born here in this new land, half a world away from the family and culture they had left behind, Ranar often felt as though he were expected to be the bridge that held everyone and everything up and together.
Hehad taken Nagilese classes as a child, while his younger sister had not.Hehad been expected to marry someone from their homeland and uphold their traditions in an arranged marriage. The last time he’d pried into his sister’s private life, she’d been dating a werebear.
When Ruma was born, his fully assimilated “let’s just order a pizza” mother had gone overboard insisting her only grandchild be fully connected to her roots. He and his ex had tried to find a balance that felt right for their home, but nine years later, Ranar was still defensive over the claim that Ruma had been raisedtoo Westernized.
You moved here, started your family here. What did you think was going to happen?
“Well.” He could hear the frown in her voice. “We can discuss it when we come in today.”
“No, don’t bother. It’s been slow all week; I’m just going to close early. Any orders we’ve been getting are coming in before noon anyway. I’ll have them done this morning. Go play your game, get dad out of the house.”
Now Ruma was on her way, the sun was shining, and he had a stack of orders in the printer tray to fill that morning.It’s going to be a great summer.
Ranar nearly missed the sound of the bell above the door as the printer whirred to life once more. It was the goblin who owned the dry cleaner at the end of the strip of stores, her over-the-top expression of sympathy making him straighten up.
“I told Boz I was coming right over here to get a vase for the counter to show our solidarity. Honestly, it’s as if they think we don’t all talk. What happens to one can happen to any of us! I am justlivid. . . well, I’m singing to echoes, I know. I’ll take . . . this one.”
He had no idea what she was going on about, but before he could question her words, the door opened again, his driver loping in, swinging her bag off her shoulder and slipping behind the counter to ring out the troll before he could even react.
“Just remember, Ranar. We’re all in this together!”
The troll was out the door and on her phone before he could even form a complete sentence.
