Page 30 of Zalis
A chime at the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts. Maybe it was Zalis with an explanation or at least a message that work kept him away. Imagining that he was out chasing down the bad guys was much better than admitting he was hiding from her.
Because she was a selfish monster and he was too nice to call her out on her own bullshit.
“I’m sorry,” Gemma said, pressing a button to open the door.
An automated cart delivered her earlier order. Emry followed. “I thought you might want help unpacking.”
“No. I appreciate the help.” Doing something productive would help pull her out of this deep dive into despair. “Come in.”
It didn’t take Emry long to unload the cart. While her sister put clothes away in the dresser, Gemma unpacked the kitchenware. Sitting at the table, she unloaded boxes. The items were simple in design, without frills, but seemed decent quality.
“Clothes are done. I left the bathroom stuff on the counter,” Emry said, returning to the table. She picked up a set of plates. “Where do you want these?”
“An upper cabinet. Don’t care which one. The kitchen is small. It won’t take me long to find stuff.” Honestly, Gemma hadn’t requested that much. There was more than enough space.
“Exactly like my layout. Got it.”
When the last fork, cup, and dish was put away, Gemma declared that she needed a sugary coffee. “Whipped cream, caramel, all the syrup. Everything.”
What came out of the coffeemaker wasn’t close to the same quality as a frothy, sugary latte, but it was good. The whipped cream tasted like whipped cream. The caramel smelled like caramel. Did the coffee taste like coffee? Gemma had no idea. Any actual coffee flavor was buried under a mountain of sugar.
She closed her eyes as she took a slow sip, letting the whipped cream melt on her tongue.
“You need to be alone with that latte?” Emry asked, clearly amused.
“I’m savoring.” Gemma sank back into her chair. She scratched at the injection site behind her ear. Catching herself, she flexed her fingers and wiggled them, like she could shake off the compulsion. “I dreamed about sugar. Chocolate. Caramel. I’d just fantasize about shoveling spoonfuls of plain sugar into my mouth.”
“Oh. I, uh, can’t imagine what you went through…” Emry’s voice trailed off, tears close to the surface. “Do you want to talk about it? With me, or someone like a therapist?”
Probably. An emotionally healthy person would have a good cry and go to therapy; Gemma wasn’t ready yet. One day. Just not today. Instead, she opted to reminisce. “Do you remember eating frosting on saltine crackers?”
“Yes.” Emry groaned at the memory. During the Invasion, their mother found a giant tub of vanilla frosting in the bakery’s storeroom, hidden in a corner. Frosting on crackers was the only sweet thing they had for months. “I can’t stand frosting now.”
“Odd, considering all the cupcakes I’ve seen you demolish.”
“Your cupcakes are an exception, and you don’t use that industrial frosting from a tub.”
“Swiss meringue buttercream,” Gemma said. The frosting was more laborious than regular buttercream, so she used it exclusively for special orders. Regular vanilla, chocolate, and the other run-of-the-mill flavors were just fine with buttercream. Nothing but an exceptional frosting would do for the rainbow unicorn swirl. “Holds its shape and isn’t so sweet it overpowers the cupcake.”
“How are you?” Emry asked, sending the conversation in a different direction Gemma wasn’t ready to accept.
“Fine. How’s your apartment?”
“Just like this one. Stop dodging the question. How are you doing with all this? Is Zalis treating you okay? If he doesn’t, I’ll feed him to… to something big with lots of teeth. A crocodile or whatever they have out here,” Emry said.
“It warms me to the bottom of my soul that you’d take him to a space pig farm,” Gemma joked, dodging the question.
Emry narrowed her eyes. Yeah, she knew Gemma was dodging the question.
Using her finger, Gemma scraped up the last of the whipped cream clinging to the lip of the mug. She raised her eyebrows, daring Emry to say anything about being uncouth and gross.
Arms folded over her chest, Emry looked unimpressed.
Whatever. Gemma had seen Emry do far worse and reminded her sister of exactly that with a little waggle of her head.
“It’s a lot,” Gemma said, breaking the silence.
“That’s what you said earlier.”
