Page 35 of Invasive Species
That’s not like Gara. No snarky comeback, no curiosity about human conservation methods.
Ah. It’s not the squirrels he’s thinking about.
I reach for him, then pull my hand back. “Gara… no one’s hunting you.”
His throat moves as he swallows, eyes not meeting mine. “Not yet.”
“No, and they won’t,” I promise. “No one will find out about you, no one’s going to take you away. Just let them try it.”
And I really fucking mean it.
His lips twist, then swoop up. When he breaks into a wide smile, I nearly gasp. He looks handsome as fuck all the time, but especially when he smiles. Then he chuckles. Gara, chuckling? I stand transfixed, brain one big blank like I’ve plunged into a pool.
“My apologies, I’m sure you are indeed fierce when provoked.”
Teasing too? This is, like, the best day ever.
As we unpack the food side by side, my brain leaps back into action. Maybe… Gara doesn’t actually hate me, not anymore. While I might still be a pain in his ass, perhaps he’s feeling what I’m feeling.
And, wow, wouldn't that be fabulous?
TWELVE
GARA
Over the next five weeks,Arra-bellah joins us daily to see the barn ‘shaping up,’ as she calls it. The structure of the lower floor is finished and we are working on the first level, restoring the beams supporting the wooden floor. Plasteek would be sturdier but Arra-bellah is insistent, and to my surprise, I come around to seeing her vision.
The wood smells nice and shapes well, so I’m pleased with her choice. I’m even more pleased when she comes in just to look at our work, her delighted smile making my hearts thump harder.
I sit with her to expand details of the plans in our comp system. She sees beyond the shell to something intangible, and I bring her scribbled ideas into solid electrons to share them with the rest of us. My expertise breaks down the elements to decide what needs to be done first to bring her vision to life, and she seems amazed I can do this for her. Working on it after my crewmates have all turned in for sleep is no hardship when I imagine her gasps of amazement in response.
Arra-bellah also comes to me before our swim session every day, and this crisp morning is no exception.
“Up for a challenge?” she asks, her breathless question a fog in the yard.
It's been over a month as they measure Earth time, and I've never said no. I give her a nod and she grins back as if my answer is always a pleasant surprise.
Glancing at Dom over my shoulder, she raises her voice to say, “And you'd better try to win, I don't want any false victories.”
This reassures Dom's Parthiastock reflexes, and he gestures for me and Arra-bellah to lead the way. I heat up my chest to guard from the chill in the air. The season is turning warmer slowly, but the amount of daily precipitation hasn’t abated.
The track to the lake used to be lined with gray rimmed grass which cracked underfoot, but now the ground sports clumps of new growth with little buds.
Arra-bellah races up to one. “Daffodils! My favorite. Wait ‘til you see the color on these.”
“I’ll wait.” I pull to a stop next to her. Although mine towers over hers, we stand shoulder to shoulder.
She nudges my chest with her elbow. “No, hah, it'll take a few days, but when they do, this whole hillside will be covered with hundreds of them, bright yellow trumpets with a ruff like a star.”
I find it hard to imagine but clearly, she can. “What challenge do you propose today?”
Her green eyes dance in amusement with the promise of calamity, like an approaching glittering avalanche, albeit tiny. “We’ll have a race.”
“I will win, I have longer arms,” I retort. Again I watch her reaction, but she seems pleased by my assertion, not angered. I can relax around her, not having to watch every word that falls from my mouth.
“Size ain’t everything,” she shoots back, hand on her hip.She’s correct, because despite her stature, she’s an intense force of nature.
My face aches, and I realize it's from smiling. Something I do constantly when she's around.
