Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Bee is beautiful. In my opinion, but I’m also attracted to a ScaryDarkAlienVampire, so…
Anyway.
My beautiful cousin is my paternal uncle’s child.
He and his college girlfriend got themselves a little bit pregnant when they were in their last year of undergrad, and Bee is the child from that short-lived romance.
Her mom is a fiercely protective powerhouse who gave Bee her excellent skin, beautiful Afro, and the drive to do whatever she sets her mind to.
My uncle gave Bee sarcasm and fantasy-assassin training lessons that she has zero inhibition about using on me when she’s in the mood for a fight.
Yes, that’s right, Bee trained like she was going to grow up to be an assassin in a fantasy novel.
She can and has won archery tournaments, worn a navy-colored cloak for five years straight, and ridden horses on weeks-long treks through the Appalachians.
Also, she can jump over my head while I’m standing, and I’m not even joking about that.
It’s terrifying watching this six foot tall Amazonian woman sprint at you, knowing that if you flinch she’s going to kick your ass and then make fun of you for a month.
Ask me how I know.
I seem to have gotten off track bragging about my favorite cousin…
Bee and I soak in the hot tub, enjoying the heat and jets as we graze the cheese board I made and drink the wine she brought.
Neither of us makes enough money to splurge on expensive wine, so I know it’s a ten dollar bottle, and it’s a shame to waste authentic French cheese on cheap wine, but to be honest, I can’t tell the difference between a ten dollar bottle and a hundred dollar bottle and neither can a bunch of blind taste testing sommeliers, so I don’t feel bad about it.
I didn’t say they were good sommeliers. Every industry has its middling-at-best people, but they really did fail to taste the difference between cheap and expensive.
“I wonder if I can just get the apartment next door. Do you think they take requests for housing assignments? You said they’d let you move, right?” Bee ponders, and since I have inside info in a text thread, I ask the disappearing Lora what he thinks.
Me: Do you think Bee could request the apartment next door to mine?
“I asked.” I shake my phone at Bee so she knows what I did.
Instead of a new text message, thunder cracks in my house and suddenly Lora is looming over the hot tub rattling apologetically. He holds up a dripping wet phone. “This device was drowned by a small household predator.”
A small what?
Bee starts laughing, completely unafraid of the giant ass alien vampire suddenly in our space. “Did a cat push your phone off a ledge?”
Lora rattles affirmatively. “Her name is Mister Murder Mittens, and she chose violence against the phone to punish me for removing her from the comfort of her habitat.”
“You got the pronouns wrong. Mister is a male title,” Bee corrects him, but I hold up a finger shaking my head.
“No. Lora knows the difference between the pronouns and he would know mister is a male title. He didn’t make a mistake,” I reply and look up at Lora curiously. “Why is she called Mister Murder Mittens?”
“Her pet human is seven and does not adhere to social norms when choosing names for the animals he belongs to. Mister Murder Mittens likes her name and does not care about human language rules either,” Lora explains with a soft smile.
“He named the turtle king that rules him Queen Soupie McTastyface, and he named his best friend Barks Doggo. I like the names he has chosen.”
I take a sip of my wine before asking. “Do you also talk to animals?”
Lora rattles and chuckles, squatting to put us at eye level and folding his arms over the side of the hot tub.
“Most species have at least rudimentary communication capabilities. If an organism communicates through visual, chemical, or auditory methods, my neuro-processor can assist in learning and understanding the meaning of the communication.”
“That’s incredible,” Bee comments, holding out a wet hand. “I’m Beatrice Teakwood, locally known as Bee.”
Lora gently squeezes her hand with two fingers. “I am LoveOrderRageArtifice, locally known as Lora. It is nice to meet you.” He says that last sentence like he’s not sure he’s getting all the words correct with a hint of what-a-strange-local-custom.
Bee’s smile shines like the spring sun after a harsh winter. “Same. So how about it? Can I have the apartment next door?”
Lora rattles positively. “We like to keep family groups together. You, your adult siblings and cousins, and your unmarried parent will all live in this apartment block.”
I laugh as Bee groans, and since we both know what a pain in the ass living next to her mom is going to be, I also point at her and do my best impression of Nelson Muntz, “Ha-ha.”
Bee splashes me, hitting Lora as well. “Shut up. She’s going to be as much in your business as she will be in mine.”
“That’s true, but your mom loves me more than you, so I’ll get all the gumbo and you’ll get all the side-eye about living better.
” To Lora I explain, “Bee’s mom doesn’t want Bee to make the same mistakes she did, so she pushes for different choices concerning dating and her career.
I’m gay, so there’s no chance of me having a kid before I’m settled and ready for it.
Family planning is a requirement for same sex couples in a way it’s not for het couples. ”
“Never mind the fact that I’m an exclusive lesbian. I’ve never even looked sideways at a man, and none of the trans girls I’ve been with were tops.” Bee grouches, drinking the last three gulps of her wine and going for a refill.
I’d call out her overshare about her sex life, but that would be hypocritical of me when I told her in detail what happened the last time I got laid.
“It would be non-standard to not group families in the same apartment blocks,” Lora comments. “Is dissension between generations common for your species?”
“Yes,” Bee and I both say in unison.
Lora makes a call on his vambrace device and speaks to at least two other individuals for a few minutes before another joins the call.
Bee and I watch Lora during the conversation, exchanging glances every few minutes and finishing off the bottle of wine.
After about fifteen minutes, Lora stops talking to his device and all the people on the conference call quiet down.
“Would it be more appropriate to initially assign housing blocks based on marital status and age rather than family groupings?” he asks in a tone that makes me think he’s asking for the entire collective.
The look Bee gives me says, “Yeah, but it’s more complicated than that,” so I realize that explaining complex human social structures is going to be my burden in this moment.
“Do you want a yes or no answer, or do you want an in depth cultural explanation?” I’m not going to waste breath if they’re not really that interested in the answer.
Someone on Lora’s device says something in their language and Lora replies, “In depth.”
“Alright. The thing is, what is appropriate for people in the US isn’t going to be appropriate for people south of here in Mexico or people across the ocean in China.
You’re going to have to figure out what is most appropriate for every culture if that concerns you.
Humans are adaptable, and sorting us into family groups, while problematic in some cases, will work itself out eventually.
If people can move away from the people they don’t want to be around, if they can move toward the people they do want to be around, whatever you do initially isn’t going to be a long term problem.
“I think if you give people a choice about where they can go initially, they will sort themselves out. And if they don’t, you can sort them as you see fit.
You mentioned putting families in the bigger homes, and it makes sense to have neighborhoods with families in them.
Putting people in similar life stages is a really good idea because it gives them the opportunity to socialize and learn together, but giving them access to people who’ve already been through their stages is also a good learning opportunity.
Homogeny isn’t usually a good idea with humans.
We do better as humans when we’re in diverse environments. ”
Bee agrees by pointing at me and announcing, “That. But let’s be honest, you’re going to get resistance from people when you’re moving them out of their homes and disrupting their routines.
You can do your best to give people a choice, but don’t let them string you along or you won’t ever get it done. ”
“People will resist,” I agree and smile at Lora. “But you can just reeducate them.”
Lora smiles back briefly, then a new discussion begins with the conference call he’s hosting.
Bee and I finish our cheese board, and by the time Lora’s done, our wine glasses are empty as well.
I’m good and buzzed, and I stand up in the hot tub, keeping a grip on the edge to stay steady as I climb out.
“I am cooked, buzzed, and ready for a cold shower. Lora, did you all decide if Bee can live next door?”
Lora catches me by the arm and keeps me stable as I wobble over to the shower. I must’ve had more wine than I thought.
“She can. Would you like a connecting doorway between your domiciles?” he offers as I start the shower and turn it to a nice cold temperature.
I smile up at him. Way, way up. He’s so tall. Like four feet taller than me. And he fits in the bathroom. The water for the shower comes out of the ceiling so Lora would totally fit in there with me.
“That’s his drunk face,” Bee says, stepping into my cold shower before me.
“Hey! I was gonna shower first!”
Bee rolls her eyes at me. “Bitch please. You decided to stare at your alien crush for too long, so now I get the shower first.”
I flip her the bird and look back at Lora, who’s watching with interest. I love my cousin, but I don’t think I really want Lora staring at her in her bikini, so I poke his waist at eye level. I have to really crane my head to look up his body when I’m this close…
Lora grabs me again, this time sweeping me up in his arms to put me at closer to eye level. “You may be too inebriated to be trusted with wet ceramic.”
I blink as I parse that sentence. Too drunk for wet… tile. He thinks I’m too drunk to take a shower! I smile up at him. “I guess you’ll just have to join me.”
“I’m done!” Bee announces, grabbing her towel off the rack and stepping out of the walk in shower. It’s really big enough for all three of us, if I’m looking at it right, but I’m glad she’s out.
“Good. Get the fuck out of my apartment and text me when you get home. Love you.”
Bee snorts. “Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving. Do not fuck the drunk human. He cannot consent when he’s been drinking.”
Her warning bounces right off me, but Lora’s chest vibrates something wonderful. “I would never.”
I pout at them both, but I’m not drunk enough to argue because yeah, actually, drinking = no.
“You can still keep me steady while I shower off the Bee water.” Do I sound pleading? Probably. Do I care? Nope, that’s what the alcohol is for.
“Buh-bye!” Bee yells, walking out of the bathroom and closing the door firmly.
“Look at my cousin being the best wingman ever,” I sigh happily. “Shower time!”
Lora rattles.
Drunk-Ollie doesn’t know if it’s positive, negative, or neutral, but it sure feels nice against my body. “Your purrs are so sexy.”
Lora rattles again. “This is not a purr. It’s a… holdover from when our evolutionary ancestors were able to growl.”
“It’s sexy, whatever it is. Bathe me, Lora. I need that cold shower like I need a white Christmas.” I point to the shower in my most demanding way.
Lora laughs, setting me on my feet with a stabilizing grip on my forearm. “I am not getting into a cold shower with you, Ollie. My biology is far too sensitive to cold for that.”
I frown at that. “But you’re pale. Like really fucking pale. Pale usually indicates evolving in colder climates on this planet.”
Lora’s answering smile is both sexy and terrifying because it’s full of sharp teeth.
“Maybe on this planet, but on my planet pale indicates that we’ve adapted to deflect the heat of our environment.
We don’t have to worry about UV radiation burning our skin like you, but we can boil in our own bodies if we don’t have a way of dispersing the heat.
We’ve adapted for higher temperatures than usually occur on your planet, but the trade off is that we cannot abide temperatures below…
” He pauses for a moment before continuing with, “about sixty six degrees in Fahrenheit.”
“Oooh. This planet is going to be hard for you come winter,” I point out, stepping into the shower, dropping my swim trunks, and grabbing the bodywash.
Lora rattles again, and when I look up, he’s watching me. Ooooh, does the ScaryDarkAlienVampire like the look of the tiny human?
I laugh. “I can’t believe I get to call myself a tiny human.”
Lora gives me a bemused smile. “You are tiny compared to me.”
“That I am,” I agree as I start rinsing the soap off.
Lora watches as I finish getting the hot tub ick off me, then he makes sure I’m steady as I dry off and wrap the towel around my waist. He escorts me to my bedroom, where I flop on the bed instead of trying to get dressed.
“You know, I’m not against revisiting sex when I’m sober,” I tell him, blinking slowly because I’m suddenly exhausted.
“We are surprisingly biologically compatible,” Lora states, pulling my blanket over my body. “Good night, Ollie,” he says before disappearing with the clap of thunder.
I close my eyes against the sound, and the next thing I know it’s morning.