Page 47 of Caldar
A box waited on the counter in the kitchen area with a note. “Thought you might need these.”
Sonia recognized Wyn’s handwriting. The box held a container of homemade cookies, basic hair supplies— a wide tooth comb and leave-in conditioner, which would be amazing when she redid her twists— but that wasn’t what made her gasp in delight.
Her bag, the one she lost in the emergency pod.
Her hands shook as she opened the satchel. Inside, she found her brushes, pencils, and sketchbook. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she clutched the sketchbook to her chest. It was silly to get so worked up over art supplies, but they were what she grabbed from a doomed ship in a moment of hope. This was her hope, and here she was on the other side of a disaster, still holding onto her hope.
A folded piece of paper fluttered out of the sketchbook. Another note from Wyn.
“They recovered your pod. I thought you might want this. I’m happy for you, and if he ever makes you unhappy, I’ll help you hide the body,” Wyn wrote.
Ah. So sweet.That was true friendship.
Sonia cracked open the cookies— chocolate chips. Closing her eyes for the first bite, she savored the rich, chewy goodness. The chocolate was the artificial kind from a matter reconstructor but vanilla and sugar covered any weirdness. They tasted real enough to remind her of home.
Cookie in one hand, she flipped through the sketchbook. She recorded the cruise ship interior, landscapes, beaches, alien animals, plants, and interesting faces in the crowd. One face, in particular, kept reappearing.
Caldar.
There he was in the background. On a page of random faces, she sketched his profile and again with that overly-confident grin of his. There he was again lounging on a bench in a busy street scene.
Here was their love story. She recorded its evolution bit by bit, growing from mistrust to curiosity and then to admiration. There was no doubt how she felt in the later sketches. The pencil strokes were bold, managing to capture both zeal and tenderness.
Passion, she realized. Her work had passion because it was passion.
It was so obvious now that she saw it on the page. How had she failed to notice? She’d been falling in love with Caldar for ages now and hadn’t noticed.
“My eyes are not that squinty,” Caldar said.
Sonia snapped the sketchbook shut. She hadn’t heard the door open or noticed him standing next to her.
“You’re home. Here,” she quickly corrected, shyness coming over her for no apparent reason.
“I am home,” he said.
She smiled. “That sounds good.”
“May I see?” He pointed to the sketchbook she clutched to her chest.
“They recovered this from my pod,” she said, handing over the sketchbook.
He flipped through the pages, studying each page. Sonia held her breath. Other people viewing her work had never made her nervous, but this felt different. This wasn’t a class project or a commission for a client she’d never meet in person. She wanted him—no, needed him— to love it.
“I remember this day,” he said, pausing at the image of a sunset over water. The planet had two suns that synced up once a year, setting at the same time to give the planet only one night of true darkness. The astronomical event evolved into a festival of lights. Lanterns and candles floated out on the water, filling the dark.
Caldar ran a finger along the bottom of the page, careful not to smudge the drawing. “You consumed an iced fruit that strained your lips. It was very distracting.”
Sonia didn’t remember that, but she also didn’t remember Caldar being there. “I didn’t realize you were there that day.”
“Occasionally I am good at my occupation. You noticed me because I could not bear to exist in a universe where you did not notice me.”
That was sweet. A little creepy, but mostly sweet. Apparently, that was how she liked it.
“Hey,” she said, knocking into his shoulder. “I like you.”
The look he gave her smoldered. “I do not merely like you, Sonia. I burn for you. I want to be a better male for you.”
Still seated in the chair, she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against him. It was awkward and not elegant, but she liked the comfort of it. “I don’t want a better male. I fell in love with the guy in that sketchbook.”
