much," she whispers. "Farli housebroke Chompy easily, but I think Thunder is kind of stupid." She twirls a finger by her temples. "Elevator doesn't go all the way to the top on that one, but my boy just loves that damn thing." She sighs.
I take the bowl from her, chuckling. "Well, if I can't pay you back for the dress, at least I can cook up some food for you."
The pregnant woman gives me a grateful look and sits back down. I move over to her tiny kitchen area—something I don't really have in my hut—and get to work while we talk about the usual gossip. Everyone's surprised at how much Veronica's pregnancy is showing and who's going to have the next baby and who's resonated to who. Megan wants to know all the gossip on A'tam and Bridget, if they're still at odds (they are) and she tsks at the fighting over Tia. "If I was seventeen and it was a beach of hot men, I'd do exactly the same thing," Megan confesses. "Those guys are adults and should know better."
"I don't think they've been around enough teenage girls to know better, or it's been so long they've forgotten." I shrug, stirring the mixture I've made with her instruction. It's good to just hang around and chat about nothing at all. Everyone here in Croatoan is lovely—there's a family feel here more so than on our beach, like everyone's part of one big unit. I think about the squabbling tribes and the constant bickering back at Icehome and wonder if we'll ever get there or if we're too fractured.
The women here are fantastic, though. Over the last week that we've been here, Veronica and I have been handed tons of baby clothes to bring back to the others, an entire bundle of toys for Z'hren, and more clothing for the men, and thick blankets. There's food “treats” to be brought back, lots of the hraku seeds that taste so sweet when cooked, and more root-cake concoctions. I even have a spindle from Tiffany, who showed me how to use it. She's managed to make a pretty ugly scarf with dvisti fur, and shows me how to roll the spindle against my leg and make a soft, delicate yarn. "It's a work in progress," she'd told me, "but maybe someone on the beach can have more luck with it and we can trade ideas."
Right now, I'm at Megan's hut because she insisted on making T'chai a macrame belt. She's been working on a pattern that allows for loops for weapons and pouches, and her fingers move nimbly over the intertwined thongs. One of them is dyed red and it creates a fascinating pattern as its woven into the rest of the leather. There's so much we can learn from each other, I've realized, because the ideas one camp has aren't the same as the others. T'chai's spent a lot of time talking about fishing with the tribe here, since some of his ideas are different than theirs.
Once the weather's nicer, maybe we'll all get together and meet somewhere in the middle for a big gathering. I make a mental note to suggest that to Vektal and Georgie before we leave.
"Hmm," Megan says as I put the pot of gruel over the fire. "I have some pregnancy clothes from when I was pregnant with Holvek that don't fit anymore. Do you want them?"
I hesitate. "I…don't need them yet."
She gets up from her seat and gives me a little pat on the arm. "You will. I'll get them for you."
So confident. I bite back a laugh, because our “secret” as to why we were coming to visit the healer stayed secret for less than a day. Ever since, everyone's been hugging us and offering advice and suggestions on how to “push” resonance in the right direction. I'm sure it's all nonsense, but since the healing, I've found I don't really mind. Everyone means well and wants us to be happy; I can't be mad about that. So I endure the well-meaning conversations with a smile on my face, and it's easy to do.
Everything seems easier now.
There's no resonance yet, a week in, but my khui hums pleasantly to T'chai's every time we get close to one another, so I know it recognizes his again. I'm not in a hurry. I figure there will be plenty of time for us to have babies and truly resonate. For now, I'm just thrilled I can