“Building a bigger house,” Khash countered.
He had gone back to work as well, and Kael had started daycare, bringing home a cold by the end of his second week there. It was unavoidable, they reminded each other. It was just as likely that he picked it up in music class or at story time at the library. They both knew the instant he left the protective bubble of their home, he would be exposed to the wide world and all its germs . . . but knowing that hadn’t stopped the guilt from gnawing its way through them both.
“I feel so guilty, Lurielle.”
Khash’s voice was a detached rumble beneath her, sounding at once miserable and resigned. They were both awake, both lying there in the dark, listening to the snuffled, muffled breathing of their baby, congested and restless, having cried for much of the earlier evening, exhaustion at last overtaking him.
She understood.
“I know,” she had whispered to him, finding his hand in the dark, both of them knowing exactly what guilt was shaped like, how much it weighed, and how bitter it was on the tongue.
The trip down south was long overdue, and by the time it arrived it was carrying more weight than their combined luggage.
“Lurielle, those ants in your pants are fixin’ to take a chomp if you don’t sit still. You already know they’re gonna love him.”
She exhaled, harder than she’d meant to. “Oh, I know they will. That’s not what I’m worried about.”
The house was already full when they arrived. Cars lined the driveway, coolers sat on the porch, and she could see the smoke from the grill rising like a plume. The air smelled like cut grass and roasting meat, and the door was flung open before they’d made it halfway up the driveway.
“There he is!” his sister, Keely yelled, scooping the baby from Khash’s arms before they’d even made it up the steps.
A glass of iced tea was pressed into Lurielle’s hand, his mother engulfing her in a hug that dissipated a bit of the tension she was carrying. For the rest of the afternoon, Kael was passed from arm to arm, and she began to relax. It wasn’t dissimilar from that first visit with the party — they weren’t there forher, and she didn’t need to fret over being the center of attention.
Khash’s withered grandmother wept at the confirmation of his name, staring down at the bundle in her arms with a toothless smile, ignoring the tissue that was held up to her, unable to tear her eyes away from Kael’s little face.
“It was Lurielle who did that. Told me she’d already picked the baby’s name and I would just have to get used to it if I didn’t like it.”
At last, the old orc’s eyes raised, finding Lurielle across the room. “Well, darlin’, you have no idea how happy you made my old heart with an honor like that. I know Khash’s granddaddy is smiling on this boy, and he’s pleased as punch.”
When the tissues were passed to her, she gratefully accepted, nodding her head, unable to get anything out.
“How are you doing, suge?” his eldest sister asked a bit later. “First one is always the hardest. I’m sure you’re exhausted, especially if you’re working.”
There it was, she thought, pleasantly surprised at how tacitly it was brought up. A statement of fact, offered gently.See? You got yourself all worked up for nothing. Everything is going to be fine. You spent two weeks twisting yourself in knots for no reason.
Her confidence held out until dinnertime, taking her seat around the giant table, Kael placed in a high chair where Khash himself had once sat, the old wood smooth as glass, having held siblings and cousins, multiple generations of orcs who had grown up at this table.
“And this is his seat now. The chair might get a little bigger, but he’ll always have a seat at this table, Lurielle. Don’t you ever forget it.”
She was glad she had held onto her tissue.
Overreacting, getting tied up in her anxiety for nothing, she told herself, taking the plate that was passed to her. At least, until the conversation around the table started.
“Well, Lurielle, when are you going to give him a brother or sister?” Khel asked, spearing a green bean. “You don’t want to wait too long.”
“Khel, this boy’s barely got us trained yet. Grahmuk knows we got time to enjoy him first before we start at the drawing board all over again.”
She breathed a small sigh of relief.This is his family to deal with, remember?Her relief was, predictably, she thought, short-lived.
“Khash, if I wanted your opinion, I would have asked before you pulled it out of your ass like a party trick. Everyone knows it’s better to have ‘em close in age.”
“Better for who?”
The room went silent for a brief moment, and Lurielle realized in horror that the question had fallen from her own mouth. Startled laughter broke her mortification, his sister tsking.
“For the whole family, suge,” Keely went on. “For you most especially. You don’t wanna get him out of diapers just to start all over again with a newborn. Have ‘em quick and get it over with.”
She stood on the porch, a while later, looking out over the woods behind his sister’s house. It was ridiculously peaceful. The indigo blue sky stretched out above the tree line, lit with a million pinpricks of starlight. She wondered if his sister was right.
