A week passes,and Ruth-Ann avoids me. I don’t see her in town. She doesn’t come by my cart to say hi, or to bring me my daily cup of night tea. For the first time since I arrived on Risda, I feel lonely. Pluto watches for her all day, his ears pricking, and I can practically feel his disappointment when no one brings him his kitty cookies. They’re not the same when they come from me. Because they come from her, they’re special.
Her absence is a continuous ache, and I endure the week like an automaton, going through the motions. I want to fix this, but I also don’t want to trigger Ruth-Ann into a bad headspace. I know what it’s like to try and move on from a bad past. I wouldn’t wish those memories on anyone. It makes me ache to think I’ve harmed my friend like that. I need to fix it, somehow.
When the day prior to the cantina opening arrives and there’s still no sign of Ruth-Ann, I decide to say fuck it to being patient. I’ve been waiting for her to make a move all this time romantically, and she’s been avoiding it. Why would I think that she’d somehow take the initiative with this? If I want to clear the air—and I do—I need to be the one to do it.
So I make a plan. Instead of waiting on her, I’m going to rip off the proverbial band-aid and confront her myself. I’ll apologize, tell her I understand, and woo her with cake. It’s my birthday, but that’s not nearly as important as the opening to the cantina itself. I know she’s been working hard for months and so has the rest of the crew…and I have a cake concept I’ve been dying to try out.
I can skip the bakery cart today. Everyone’s going to be heading to the new cantina to check it out anyhow. Instead of my regular baking, I make a cake. It had started out as an experimental cookie I made last month that had turned out too thick and cakey, but the texture turned out to be perfect for a sheet cake. For icing, I blend honey and a very soft, buttery cheese, and the result is so delicious I’m delighted with myself for thinking of it.
Pluto puts his paws up on the counter, his nose working. He loves the smell of cheese, and so I spread some on a bone and put it in his bowl so he leaves my cake alone.
I make a second small cake and pipe a big R-A on it. The main cake will be for the crew at the cantina, but this one is just for her.
Once the cakes are ready, I shower and linger in the bathroom, fussing with my appearance. I normally toss my hair into a loose braid, but today I want to look a bit more glamorous. I pull it into a high ponytail atop my head, smoothing flyaways with a bit of oil on my hands. I have a berry-colored lip tint made by someone here in Port, and I dab it on my mouth and cheeks to give them color. I find my tightest-fitting tunic and pin it at the waist to show off my figure, and tug it down at the front to show the girls off a bit. I look pretty sexy, if I do say so myself.
When I’m ready to head out, I pick up the enormous sheet cake from the kitchen and then pause. It takes up both my hands, and there’s no way I’m going to be able to bring Ruth-Ann’s cake with me. Do I drag my empty cart over (and my oversized cat) and park it outside once I’ve transported the cakes? Or will someone mess with it? How am I going to handle having Pluto on a harness at the same time? The moment he sees Ruth-Ann, he’s going to bolt for her.
I stare down at the smaller cake, then decide. I’ll leave it here and invite Ruth-Ann back for a private celebration.
If she doesn’t hate me, maybe it’s time to move this thing between us forward a bit.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
SIMONE
I approach Sunrise Cantina,unsurprised to see that there’s a crowd outside already. They have a small wooden shingle sign that hangs out front, but someone’s made an enormous cloth banner and painted on itGRAND OPENING - SUNRISE CANTINA. It hangs over the face of the building, and seeing the bold, colorful English lettering gives me nostalgia. If I ignored the fact that there are some aliens standing out front, or that the moon hanging in the sky looks nothing like the moon back home, I might feel like I’m back on Earth.
Getting in line, I juggle the heavy cake in my arms. One of the a’ani, Erzah, is acting as bouncer. He notices me and gestures that I should move forward. “What’s this?” he asks, grinning. “A cake for me?”
“A cake for all of you,” I correct. “To celebrate the grand opening.”
“You’re a taint,” he says, his smile growing even broader.
“A…what?”
“Saint,” someone yells out. “Saint, not taint.”
“Oh.” He shrugs sheepishly and holds the door open for me and Pluto. “Close enough, right?”
“Super close,” I agree, then have to bite my lip not to burst into giggles. The crowd parts and lets me walk into the doorway.
The interior of the cantina is a little warmer than it is outside, but no one seems unhappy about it. The decor looks like a bistro back home. There’s a long wooden bar at the back, and every barstool is full. Every table is, too, and Jerzec is racing between them, refilling glasses of water. Something cooking smells like stir-fry, and my stomach growls. I scan the room looking for Ruth-Ann, and my heart flips momentarily at the sight of the small woman behind the bar. The spiky hair and equally spiky facial jewelry tell me that it’s Ruthie and not Ruth-Ann, though. She’s shaking drinks while Kaz pours, and it’s clear they’re working as a team.
Jerzec races past me and then skids to a stop, his eyes wide. He looks down at the cake and then up at me, grinning. “Is that for us?”
“It is!” I glance around at the crowded floor. “It’s packed in here.”
“Kef me, I noticed.” He wipes at his brow. “I’m trying to handle the floor, but Dopekh was supposed to help and bailed out. Romance troubles. You know how it goes.”
Is that a jab or just a clueless remark? I make a sound in my throat that might be assent. “Where’s Ruth-Ann?”
“In the back helping Zaemen fill orders.”
“Is it okay that Pluto is in here with me?” I tilt my head, gesturing at the carinoux at my side. “He’ll behave.”
“Sounds fine.” He shakes his empty water pitcher. “Can’t talk more, gotta run. Just take the cake in the back.”
