Page 50 of Eat My Moon Dust
The silent heartbeat between us lasted an eternity.
I left with a little nod, pulse pounding harder than my boots as I ran across the steel flooring and out into the afternoon.
18
?TINSLEY?
As promised, Hunar delivered everything to the lobby on a levicart and left it there overnight. He messaged me late, and I’d stared at it like a schoolgirl every fifteen minutes for the next few days.
25:16, Hunar Fareshi: Delivered. Sorry it’s late.
25:16, Tinsley Adams: That’s okay! Thanks for bringing it all.
25:19, Hunar Fareshi: We live on the second floor… If you need me, I’m here.
That last message made my stomach fizz up like a shaken can of pop. It was the stiffest invitation into a man’s life I’d ever seen, but from Hunar? That was big talk.
Or maybe it wasn’t.
Hunar and I were very similar but interpreted the things around us in exactly the opposite ways. We were both hyper-focused on the little details, for example, but where I saw his message as the door creaking open, he measured the degree at which it stopped. My instinct was to barge in with party poppers. His would be to knock first.
So rather than feed the fake-real coil crush currently vibrating my skin, I threw myself into the decorations Hunar had delivered and did my best to respect his space for the next week. It was an act of true self-moderation, getting up early, asking volunteers to meet me in the lobby, assigning tasks, taking things in stride.
Itotallywasn’t getting up early and meeting volunteers in the lobby so I could say good morning to Hunar and his kids on their way to school. Itdefinitelydidn’t fuel the fountain of bubbles in my chest for the rest of the day to give Ladh and Taha headbands with little Santa hats on them or to hear Reha hum along toJack Frost.And when their dad said good morning, asked me if I’d eaten, and handed me a mug of coffee as his fingers brushed over the sensitive underside of my wrist?
Nope. I was a professional ice queen that felt absolutely no temptation to abandon my post, drop the kids off at school, then wrap myself around Hunar like a pretzel and beg for him to call me a good girl again.
That innocent mishap had put so much ginger in my gingersnaps that I had not one, buttwopairs of panties on stand-by.
Despite secretly crumbling to bits on the inside, decorating for Christmas had been an incredible balm to my soul. Volunteers had helped hang garlands strung with stars and ornaments. One woman, Ruth, had been a wreath-maker in her retirement back in Oregon, and she made the most beautiful wreaths from not just our pile of supplies, but also the red ferns that crept along the pathways. They were beautiful and felt uniquely like our little colony, sprouting with silver and red tinsel, sprayed with glitter, and mounted above each tower entrance.
I smiled at one of the wreaths as I stepped out into the steamy heat of the afternoon, the bells on my antlers tinkling. I’d been able to move all the decorations off the levicart with Naitee’s help, assign a bunch of little printing tasks, and had no more volunteers. The levicart followed me, carrying all the open containers of twinkle lights, humming like bees in a hive.
It wasfinallytime to light the place up!
A good amount of cheer had already spread through the colony thanks to everyone helping out. White tinsel snowmen, pink wooden reindeer painted with white spots and red noses, menorahs and fake candles in windows, cloth flags in gold, red, black, and green hanging from balconies for Kwanzaa…
Actually, the balconies were the best part. Not my decorations, but how hundreds of Renatans had decided to go all out in their own homes. Most had draped flags of their home countries next to icicle tinsel and hand-drawn banners with holiday greetings or art. Some units had even worked together, hanging garlands of festive pennants, paper flowers, and popcorn between towers. My favorite was a sagging clothesline of Santa’s laundry, the butt of a pair of long johns open and flapping in the wind. It even included a Hawaiian shirt bedecked in pink and red jungle leaves, a nod to the tropical weather.
Hunar’s ingenious twinkle lights would be thepièce de résistance,the cherry on top. A little sparkle always made things more magical, especially if the sparkle was mysterious. It was the one thing I’d kept off the volunteer list, so thatbam,one night the colony would just light up people’s imaginations.
“Okay, here we go,” I told myself, facing my home tower’s entrance with my holotab open to the drone mapping software. I held my holoscreen up to frame the entrance, then traced my finger around the doors. A prompt asked me how many drones I wanted placed and what colors they should emit. As soon as I submitted the options, seventy drones self-assigned themselves from the top of their container and flew into formation.
I bobbed on the balls of my feet and clapped to myself as they blinked on in a rainbow of color. They lookedperfectnestled against the garland and wreath.
“Heck yes! Get it!” I exclaimed, slapping myself awkwardly on the back with a cackle of excitement.
I moved on with a bounce in my step, nestling some twinkle lights into the tinsel bodies of snowmen and red noses on reindeer. As I approached the school pod though, I slowed.
Reha sat on the steps, a hunched figure that took after her father with her light turquoise skin and pink markings. Her mane hung limp, and she hugged her knees, staring at the treeline.
“Hey, Reha!” I called, slowing to a stop a few feet away. The levicart hummed at idle behind me. “Whatcha doing out here?”
She turned her face away, despondent. “I got in trouble.”
My smile fell. “Oh…” I crouched so she wouldn’t have to look up at me. “What for?”
“Glitter oil. They told me I had to wash it off, and when I said no, they kicked me out because of something calledbeludonah.But I don’t get it, why is being a beautiful lady bad?”
