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He grinned. “When you have the good news, we will have another reason to celebrate. I know you are very worried about her.”

I nodded. “I am. And I feel so guilty for not driving out to see her to spend the weekend with her. She kept saying it wasn’t a big deal and I didn’t need to take off work, but I know she’s scared. I’m scared too. And I feel bad that I didn’t prioritize her over work, especially with all she did during my childhood.”

Bwat urged me to eat, adding another two blistered peppers to my plate. “It is only Friday night. You still have time to go see her this weekend.”

I nodded. “I plan on going out on Sunday for dinner with her. She insisted on cooking, which makes me feel guilty too. But I should have gone to see her tonight, instead of waiting until Sunday.”

The orc made a sympathetic noise. “Her doctor reassured her and gave her hope, and you will see her Sunday. And I am sure her cooking dinner helps her believe that all is as it should be. Sometimes keeping to a planned schedule is calming.”

I ate a pepper, considering his words.

“And perhaps it is your fear for her safety and continued life that made you not go tonight. It’s very difficult to face the possible death of our parents. They always seem like they will never age or weaken or cross the path to the great underworld.”

Damn it, again I felt like I might cry. “Don’t put me on a pedestal, Bwat. Work always comes first for me. It’s not a good trait, and I know it.”

His smile held indulgence and fondness…or maybe more than fondness. “I admire your dedication to your career, but I don’t believe you would ever put that before someone you loved. You were afraid, and you used your job as an excuse. It’s reasonable to be scared that the one person you depend on in your life might die.”

I wanted to argue back, but I realized he was right. And I was too busy shoveling nachos, peppers, and pita wedges loaded with hummus into my mouth to say anything.

“When the plague was killing so many of us, I feared for my parents,” he confessed. “The illness mainly was affecting females, and so many of the females in both our clan and the clans we visited had died. Some males had died as well. I was terrified that my mother would die. I was so afraid that I would be an orphan. I wanted them to stay in their home, to not go on their trade routes or even go outside, but they refused. My mother got sick, then a few days later my father became ill as well. They were at Clan Aanod and although I received the news by raven within a few days, it took me a week to get to them. I ran. I didn’t stop to rest or even eat. I just ran, so afraid that they might be dead before I got there, that I wouldn’t have a chance to tell them once again how much I loved them.”

The blistered peppers were like cardboard in my mouth, and I was barely holding back sobs at his story. Suddenly all those emotions I’d stuffed down deep came rushing to the surface. My mother might die. That strong woman who could overcome anything, who had been my rock in both my childhood and into my adult years, could die. And I’d never see her again. I’d never be able to call her to tell her about something funny I’d seen while on my way to work, or to cry over my latest failed attempt at a relationship.

I’d be alone. I’d be so alone.

It was a ridiculous feeling. I had close friends that I loved, and who loved me. I wasn’t alone. I wouldn’t ever be alone. But my mother’s death would change everything. It would be the loss of the one person that had experienced my childhood with me. I didn’t think I could bear it. And yes, I’d been afraid and had cowardly used my job as an excuse.

Maybe I used my job as an excuse for a lot of things I was afraid of.

“What happened when you got there?” I choked out. I knew that Bwat’s parents were still alive, so the story had a happy ending. But even happy endings sometimes were preceded by an agonizingly painful middle part of the story.

“Many in Clan Aanod were sick. I relieved the healers and took care of my parents myself, and after a week they began to improve. They both lived, and although it took months, they are now as healthy and capable as they were before the plague.” He raised his champagne glass. “One more reason for us to celebrate. Your career success. Your mother’s hopefully good result. My parents’ survival.”

I lifted my glass, thankful to return to a more joyous conversational topic. “Your almost-viral video.”

Bwat grinned. “And many more in the future, I hope. I may be terrible at hockey, and the Tusks may lose, but as you said, we can still win the hearts and brains of humans.”

I took more than a sip of the champagne, then took another. “Do you like playing hockey?”

The orc wrinkled his nose. “I enjoy it, but wish I could be better. Even back home I was never the best at sports, or at military drills, or even hunting. I enjoy those things, but I don’t excel.”

“You don’t have to excel at something to enjoy it,” I told him. “But maybe you’d be happier with hockey as a hobby and something else as a career? Perhaps charmed sculptures and carvings like your parents? Those would sell like wildfire here.”

“I prefer not to be setting fires, and unfortunately I did not inherit my parents’ skills in carving or metalwork.” He refilled my champagne flute and spooned more of the nachos onto my plate.

“If you could do anything in the world without needing to make money, or needing to satisfy the angels’ requirements concerning gainful employment, what would you do?” I asked.

He thought about that for a few moments, taking a bite of hummus and draining his champagne glass before answering. “I would give people information. Humans and orcs, and even other supernatural beings. I would give orcs information they need to live in the human world and to woo human females, although I do not seem to be an authority on that matter yet. I would tell humans all about the orc world, so that they might visit and enjoy their time among our people. I would travel, and let all beings know the best places to see, the best activities to enjoy, and the cultural rules.”

I clapped my hands together, nearly knocking over my half-empty glass in the process. “A travel vlogger! A writer! Self-help and travel guides!”

Bwat had shot out a hand, lightning fast, to rescue my teetering champagne flute, then arched an eyebrow at me. “This is a job here? Honestly? Would this be considered gainful employment?”

“Yes. Although I don’t know what the angels’ criteria is, but writing is definitely a career here in the human world. It doesn’t always make a lot of money, and many people do it as a side-job with their main job actually paying the bills. I’d be sad to see you leave the team, because I think you have a lot of appeal, even if you’re not a skilled player yet, but you could write on the side. And if a book takes off, or your vlog goes viral and gets a bunch of sponsorships, then you might be able to do it full time if you want.”

“I don’t want to blog and write all the time,” Bwat mused. “I need some time to eat and sleep. And I do want to play hockey if the team still wants me after this year.”

He might not be the best player on the team, but he wasn’t that much worse than the other orcs, and I doubted Escallates Johnson could find another orc that knew how to skate to replace him. His position was secure, from what I could see.