Page 44 of Five to Love Him
“Okay, lead the way,” I said and tore my eyes from the houses and the display of artificial flowers some featured in flower boxes hung on the windowsills.
The hive picked up the pace. It was only a few minutes before we got to a house at the very end of a long line of them.
“What’s there?” I asked, pointing to where the boardwalk wound on before dropping steeply into the darkness.
“It’s an exit. It takes you above ground. This one isn’t used a lot, and it’s very quiet here.”
“Ah.”
I followed them to the door where they stopped and caught my eye.
“The code is 16022.” They pointed at the number panel on the door.
“No key?”
They shook their heads. “No. This is more convenient. You are welcome to come here whenever you want.” “Think of it as your home. We know it’s small, but we hope you can be comfortable.”
They punched in the code and opened the door, then hit the light switch for me.
Small was an understatement. Right across from the door, a narrow ladder led to a second level, and with one step, I was in what looked like the dining room, if you could call it that. It was just a table, small, with three chairs somehow fitting around it, then a low wall, and behind that, I could see kitchen cabinets.
“The bathroom is behind the kitchen,” one of the hivelings said as they gently nudged me forward so they could close the door behind me. One of them went up the stairs, up the ladder, while another headed toward the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? Or a snack?”
I shook my head. “Wouldn’t want to ruin my appetite for dinner. You live in here with five? I think I can almost touch both walls while standing in the middle of the room.”
“You don’t like it,” one of them said.
Their face, all their faces, fell, and that gutted me.
I walked past the table and chairs to the one in the kitchen. I knew I had a comfort zone, a tiny one, but I figured it was fine, stretching it a little. I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle.
“That’s not it. I’m just not used to it. And I’m surprised, that’s all. What kind of snacks do you have?”
They relaxed against me. “You don’t have to say that. We know. We just—this is very comfortable for us. We want you to be comfortable too. We know a singular wouldn’t be able to live here as easily as us.”
I put my head on his shoulder. It was a little awkward because they were taller, and I wasn’t sure whether this was okay, whether I was being a halfway decent mate.
“The house is way bigger. Are you sure you’re okay there?”
“Yes,” all of them said.
The one I wasn’t hugging opened the fridge. “We have baby carrots for a snack.”
And that made me tighten my hold on them which in turn had them let out a long sigh.
“My grandma would always make me baby carrots. She’d put them in my lunch, but I think there was barely an afternoon when I didn’t get them as a snack with all-natural peanut butter and apple slices.” Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I let go, stepped back. “Fuck. I haven’t thought about that in a long time. I’m sorry.”
The hive turned, just the one of them, and returned my hug.
“Don’t be. Grief is a normal thing. It’s like a scar that’s made of memories.”
I wiped at my eyes, turned my head away, then buried it in their shoulder, their height now making it easier.
“I just miss her. Sometimes, I forget how much I miss her.”
They didn’t respond, just held me, their hands stroking my back in the most soothing way.
twenty
