Gem simpered. “That’s cute. Did you ask her to make this for me or something?”
A shadow passed over Rusty’s face, there then gone so quickly Gem questioned whether he’d seen it in the first place. “Uh, no. She died when I was fifteen.”
Well, fuck him with a crowbar. Sometimes, Gem hated his stupid, fat mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” Gem said, apologizing for Rusty’s loss and for bringing up that lossso callously.
“It was a long time ago,” Rusty said dismissively as he took another bite of soup. “This tastes a little different than hers, but it’s damn close.”
Not sure what to say, Gem shoved more food into his mouth to keep it busy. If he was chewing, he couldn’t be talking. Or so he thought. Against all rhyme and reason, he heard himself say, “Was she your only family?”
Rusty lowered his spoon to his bowl, lips parting, but Gem spoke first. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive. I just… death makes me horribly uncomfortable, and when I’m uncomfortable, I tend to just blurt things. And those things tend to be inappropriate. So I’m gonna stop talking now.”
He gulped at his water, knowing if he tried to talk while drinking, he’d drown. Which was probably preferable right now.
“It’s okay,” Rusty said with a tight smile.
“No, it’s really not. I don’t want to make you think about sad things.”
“Sad things happen all the time, Gem. Plus, it was a long time ago,” Rusty said, dismissive yet again, but he’d stopped eating. He stirred his soup absently, tail thumping against the chair cushion. “It was just Mom and me for most of my life. I have two older siblings, but they took off when I was still really young. So I don’t remember them much. Never knew the sperm donor.”
Staring down at his soup, Gem wracked his brain for something to say. He was normally very good at finding words, so much so that he got himself into trouble all the time with too many words. But he didn’t know which words could help here. Maybe none could.
For possibly the first time ever, Rusty found words while Gem remained silent. “I think he was a john,” he said, spoon clinking against the bowl as he stirred. “My dad, I mean. Mom never said, and I never cared to ask. But yeah, I think he was just some guy passing through. At least he helped pay the electric bill once. Better than some dads I guess.”
He spoke clinically, like they were talking about the weather, gaze trained on his swirling soup, though Gem didn’t think he was actually seeing it. “Mom was a stripper, but some weeks were tight, you know? So men would come around, and she’d send me out on missions, to find extra sticks for the wood-burning stove or gather five wild things we could eat for dinner. ‘Go out and find an animal you’ve never seen before and draw it for me.’
“She made things into a game. Like sometimes, she’d light candles and we’d pretend that we were back in olden times, before electricity. Or we’d go foraging in the woods, like they used to before grocery stores existed.” He chuckled thickly. “I thought it was for fun. I didn’t realize until later that it was because we couldn’t afford the power bill that month or because we’d run out of grocery money.
“But she was good like that. If it was a game, then I didn’t have to be scared.” He turned the spoon over and over, watching the light reflect off the metal. “She had this weird thing where she felt bad for inanimate objects. Like a single shoe or a spoon that didn’t have a matching fork. She said they’d get lonely, so anytime I found those things in the desert, I’d bring them home. So they wouldn’t be lonely.”
Rusty voice caught, and he inhaled sharply and frowned at Gem’s living room, like maybe he’d forgotten where he was. He blinked rapidly and cleared his throat, ears flattening and whiskers twitching in embarrassment. Ducking his head, he covertly rubbed at his nose and sniffled, and Gem bit his bottom lip to keep it from trembling as a tear rolled down his cheek.
“She sounds lovely,” Gem said weakly, and Rusty nodded, fingers flexing on his bowl.
“She, uh, she was,” Rusty finally said.
Every molecule in Gem’s body demanded that he bundle the Pyclon up in his arms and hug the shit out of him, but he forced himself toremain seated. He didn’t know if Rusty wanted that or if he’d be even more embarrassed. He already looked coiled tight, like one little push would send him running. Gem didn’t want to spook him.
So he swallowed thickly and said, so very carefully, “What was her name?”
For a split second, Rusty’s face crumpled, but he schooled his features quickly, eyes glossy but dry as he locked gazes with Gem. “Ireyna,” he said shortly. “Her name was Ireyna.”
Another tear dripped down Gem’s cheek, and he smiled wetly at the Pyclon. “That’s a beautiful name.”
Nodding wordlessly, Rusty sniffled again and cleared his throat even more roughly. Then he was standing up and asking, “Did you want more?” in a hoarse voice.
“No, I’m—”
“I’ll put it away,” Rusty said quickly, wrapping up the container of soup hurriedly and carrying it to the kitchen along with his still full bowl of soup. “Don’t want it to go bad.”
Gem watched a tear drip into his soup, sending ripples through the broth as he fought to calm down. He was emotional at the best of times, but with the drug-induced hangover, he felt even more off-kilter. He wasn’t ashamed to cry, but he didn’t want Rusty to think he pitied him.
Dishes clinked as Rusty turned on the faucet and started washing his bowl, and Gem stood and made his way to the kitchen. He set his bowl beside the sink, and Rusty grabbed it immediately and added it to the soapy water, scrubbing furiously.
“You should go sit down,” Rusty said. “You need to rest.”
Instead of obeying, Gem placed a hand on top of Rusty’s head, between his fuzzy ears. The Pyclon stiffened, tail flicking, but he didn’t say anythingas Gem scratched. His fur was silky and soft, and Gem had the strangest desire to rub his face in it.
