This makes Ruthie open her eyes. “Bad idea. She had major back pain today. Straik’s been hovering over her like a mama bird. He’s not going to let her out of his sight.”
“Okay, not Ruth. Maybe Sakkar, then,” I amend.
“Sakkar would never let us live it down if we asked him for help,” Aithar points out. “I can ask Michaela.”
“She’s running a dairy—and you’re supposed to be helping her,” Erzah says. “What about Zaemen’s lady friend?”
Wait. Zaemen has a lady friend? I look over at him.
Zaemen just huffs, his face neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And we don’t need help. We’ll manage.”
“Even so, I’ll swing by once I’m all sold out,” Simone offers. “Just in case.”
And her thumb draws tiny circles on my skin.
“You’re a saint,” Ruthie says with a yawn. “I only got one piece of cake, but it was delicious.”
Oh, the cake! I gasp, clutching at Simone’s hand because I’m just now realizing that I never got a slice to enjoy myself. We’d had multiple people asking for dessert, but the kitchen was so far behind that the idea was out of the question. Simone had theidea to hand out slices of cake on the house, and now there’s nothing left but crumbs. “I didn’t even get to try it.”
Jerzec leans in. “Everyone said it was amazing. Someone said ‘baller’ but I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
I laugh, and Simone does, too. “It’s good,” Simone tells him. She looks over at me. “I actually made another small cake, but I guess you’re too tired to come by?”
“Because it’s your birthday?” I ask.
She bites her lip and leans in closer to me, and I wonder if she’s going to kiss me. “I actually thought we could share a birthday since you don’t remember yours.”
I stare at her. No one’s ever done something so sweet for me. “You…you didn’t have to do that.”
Ruthie clears her throat.
I glance up at my “sister” and we exchange a look.
“You’re right, it’s your birthday, too,” Simone says cheerily, misinterpreting Ruthie’s interruption. “I forgot.”
Time to change the subject. Before Ruthie can say anything, I speak up. “I’ll come by. I’d love to.”
Jerzec yawns. “I could eat some more cake, too.”
Oh. My face gets hot, because I’d imagined being alone with Simone. “Um…”
The table jerks. Jerzec sits up, scowling. “Ow, Ruthie, what the kef?”
“Why don’t we start cleaning up,” my sister says, suddenly all energy. “Ruth-Ann, you can walk Simone home while we get started on this mess. Maybe she’ll make us all more cake if we ask her nicely.”
“I guess,” he says, crawling out of the booth and rubbing his knee with a wounded expression.
My face feels even hotter, but I’m going to give Ruthie a big ol’ hug when I see her next. She had the bravery to do what I couldn’t.
“You ready to go?” Simone asks, sliding out of the booth. Her hand abandons mine and I’m eager to grab it again, even though I shouldn’t. I should leave her alone because I can’t tell her the truth of what I am.
But I’m a wimp, because I know I’m not going to. I’m going to happily trot over to the boarding house and eat cake with her and see if we’re going to do more than just hold hands. Honestly, I don’t care if there’s any cake at all. I just want to touch her again, in whatever small way I’m allowed.
Simone yawns as we leave the cantina, and Pluto’s head is drooping with fatigue. I suddenly feel guilty. As a baker, I know Simone’s hours are very early. She gets up before dawn to bake a lot of her goods fresh and to fill her cart. She’s been going all day and she’s probably exhausted. “We can do the cake some other time,” I suggest. “You must be ready to call it a night.”
“Oh no,” she says, and grabs my hand. “You’re not getting away from me again.”
“Well, if you insist.” But I’m secretly pleased.
