Nikos moved away fr
om a conversation that no longer included him. He spotted Jen talking to Cleo and Petra as they ate cake, and backtracked, not wanting his presence to throttle what looked like a friendly conversation. From what little he could hear, it sounded like the girls were trying to wrangle an invitation to a more advanced martial arts class.
He left them to it, saw a stack of small plates with cake crumbs, and decided to take them to the kitchen. He had started to approach the kitchen door when he heard female voices coming from inside.
“ . . . think Jen is finally coming out of the funk, and I have to say, it’s about time.” That was Godiva’s rusty voice, reminding Nikos of a parrot.
“I still don’t understand how you could dislike Robert,” said Joey’s mate, Doris.
Robert—was that Jen’s husband? Nikos knew he should move away, since this conversation had nothing to do with him. But he could feel his unicorn all but planting his hooves. He paused, curious about what sort of man Jen had chosen to live her life with. That curiosity sharpened when Godiva squawked, “I didn’t dislike him. Not at all! I just never warmed up to him. Thanks for never telling Jen.”
“What good would that do?” Doris asked.
Bird’s high, sweet voice interjected, “They did everything together. He dedicated his life to good causes—all those awards they won. Interviewers always called him a saint.”
“Maybe. But saints belong in monasteries.” Godiva sighed like a hissing kettle.
Doris chuckled. “Here, hand me that dry dishcloth. This one is sopping. Godiva, you can’t hold those health food bars and dried apricots against him. That was years ago, back when we were still trading off bringing refreshments to the group. And he did mean well.”
Godiva snorted, a noise that reminded Nikos of a hippopotamus pulling a foot from mud. “And wasn’t he patronizing about it!”
Doris said, “Not patronizing. He was too earnest for that.”
“I guess I’m too old and rotten,” Godiva grumbled. “The minute he walked in carrying those bars that taste like dog food, and made that little speech about carbon footprints, I knew he was going to be the villain of my second book. Suitably altered, of course. And it’s still my best seller, you notice.”
Doris said mildly, “I remember those health food bars. After he died I discovered their cupboards were full of them—that and drawers full of ketchup packets. Maybe the poor man had food allergies. At any rate he meant well, that night.”
“I thought he was sweet,” Bird said. “And I love apricots.”
Godiva sighed. “Sweet. Meaning well. All true. And the apricots might even have been Jen’s idea, though that speech wasn’t. We don’t know without asking, and I’m not going to ask. But this I do know. In all the years we’ve been together at the writing group, she always brought their latest article about cleaning up after tsunamis, or investigating crime bosses in Bosnia, or helping plague victims. She took notes on what we said. But she didn’t write any fiction until this last three years. And nearly every one of those stories, she said she started when she was a kid, or outlined in college. All pre-Robert.”
“That doesn’t mean anything—”
“I think she lived his life. And I can see you’re about to say it was her choice, but all I’m saying is, we saw her wake up and smell the coffee when that piece of man-cake came flying outa nowhere and seduced her with karate.”
Nikos nearly choked. Inside him, his unicorn hummed appreciatively. Very observant elder, this Godiva.
I did NOT seduce her. When I seduce a woman, it’s because she clearly wishes to be seduced, and YOU get to nap in your vault. Which you ought to be doing right now—
Doris laughed. “I think it’s too early to start making wedding plans for Jen.”
“Wedding!” Godiva scoffed. “Who’s talking about weddings? She just got done with decades of that ball and chain. Here’s a stranger who won’t be here long. She can have a fling, then good-bye Charlie, he rides off into the sunset. She gets a little fun, and none of the baggage. It’s perfect!”
Nikos winced. And that, he said to his unicorn as he set the plates on a side table and backed soundlessly away from the kitchen door, is why I hate eavesdropping.
This Godiva appears to think little of human men, the unicorn observed.
And she’s not wrong, Nikos retorted.
WE shall treat our mate well, the unicorn responded with tranquil assurance.
That’s absolutely right. Which means not forcing a prospective mate to choose between her home and walking into a mess that’s getting worse by the day. And that’s why we’re taking the girls home as soon as Joey and Mikhail get their machinery down into that cavern pocket. Nikos stated it firmly to his unicorn.
And felt like a first-class hypocrite, because as he was mentally lecturing, his eyes were busy appreciating the shape of Jen’s face, the tiny laugh lines around her eyes. The set of her shoulders—the latent power there reminding him of a hunting cat. The swell of her breasts—
He shut his eyes and turned away as an echo of a gloat rose from deep within.
You. Back in the vault.