Chapter 22: Nothing Else Matters

(Metallica)

The night slips into the world with long shadows. Blaire watches it come from the porch of the family home. It is still a shell of what it used to be, but it won’t be for long. The other people have all gone home. Nancy and Uncle B to her and Luka’s old place, the rest to new RVs that Uncle B ordered.

They have been busy while she is gone. Warehouses repaired and restructured. The usable equipment is ready. The mechanics is coming tomorrow. Scrap metal dealers is picking up the damaged machinery. Whatever they needed, be it replacement equipment, seed, feed, fertilizer, pesticides, and medicines, is either already here, or on the way.

A professional clean-up crew cleared the animal corpses. A veterinarian gathered and saw the surviving livestock. Healthy livestock thrives in the clean pins. A team will attend the next auction to stock up. Nancy is looking at reputable places to get the best bull sperm and breeding cows. The young woman’s tenacity impresses Blaire.

Boris joins her on the porch. He is wearing an apron and carries two plates of food. He is an excellent cook. Better than her. She’s lost the art of creating a decent meal since it’s been ages since she actually had a kitchen to cook in. She sits down on the first step and then takes her plate. He wiggles his hips, and the cutlery clinks together in the apron’s pocket. She leans closer, grabbing a fork.

They eat in silence, watching the landscape change in the fading light. The food is great. Roasted chicken with baby potatoes, green beans covered in loads of garlic butter, carrots with honey and lemon, and a garden salad.

She knows they need to talk. A serious talk about expectations. About the way they want to move forward. About the past and their future. From the night they arrived, everyone just assumed they were a couple. How could they not, considering they were dancing in the rain, and she was naked as the day she was born?

Since then, they have been working hard. She is catching up with Uncle B and Nancy’s reports and the lists of things still needing to happen. They employed Frank to manage the vegetable and herb gardens with Nancy, but left the orchards for her, because Uncle B knew it was her most beloved part of the farm. Nancy herself is overseeing the animals.

Meanwhile, Boris has inspected all the homes and the small shops around the market square. He listed those that can be repaired and ordered a demolition team to deal with the rest, as well as all the play structures in the park. Their home will be the first he’ll repair, starting with the roof. While he is busy with that, she’ll be spending early mornings landscaping and replanting the garden, and the rest of the day clearing and replanting the fruit trees.

They discussed all these business related topics, but not once did they talk about them, or their relationship. It is as if they both are waiting for the other to open the conversation.

“I don’t think I want to get married again,” she says.

He takes a bite of food, chews it slowly. She knows he is probably thinking of what to say, and how to say it in a way that won’t upset her.

“Do I make you feel like a visitor?” she asks. “Do you feel like a stranger in this home?”

He lifts his eyes to her face. A fleeting shadow passing between them. He turns to look at the large tent that they pitched in front of the house. They share the tent, but not a bed. He even put up a patrician inside to create two rooms for them.

“Sometimes, yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Don’t be. We are still new at this… whatever this is.”

“Do we need to define it?”

“Don’t we?”

“The thing is, I’m not sure what to define it as? It’s not going to be a marriage, but I don’t think it’s just a friendship either.”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Can we say that? I think that won’t work for us. It’s too superficial. I feel as if whatever we have is already beyond that description. Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding

“See, it’s difficult to define it. I don’t think I can.”

“Anyway, I’m glad it’s not a marriage,” he says with a lopsided smile. “I don’t have a ring.”

She snorts. “You are joining my family. I figured I’d be the one giving you a ring.”

He lifts one eyebrow. “Well now, that is news to me.”

She places the plate on the floor next to her. “Okay, can we agree that wherever this goes, we will do it our way? We will make a new path to walk on. One that fits us and the life we want to create together?”

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He moves her plate aside to sit down next to her. “I agree to this, but on the condition that we have open communication between us. You can’t construct a road together unless all the parties involved know what is happening.”

“Agree.”

“However, since you don’t want to marry me, I want to be more to you than just another worker rebuilding The Farm.”

“What do you want to be, then?”

“I want to be family,” he says. “If not by marriage, can it be by Blood Oath, like Uncle B? I have watched you over the last few days. He is like a father to you, and you are the daughter he never had.”

She smiles, leans closer to his warm body. “We are a family by Blood Oath. I have more faith in that than a piece of paper from the government and a church. I am thankful for the offer to join in this way.”

“Thank you for considering it,” he whispers.

She slips a ring off her thumb. It is a man’s ring. Thick and rough. Silver, with a large black stone. She doesn’t know what stone it is, but it reminds her of the night sky when the moon is nothing but a thin sliver of golden light and the stars are at their brightest. She places it in her palm and stares at it for a moment in silence.

“Red King gave me this ring when he retired and I took over the orchards,” she says, lifting it towards his face for inspection. “It is a family heirloom and has deep significance to me and our people. If you accept that we’ll never marry, and promise to walk beside me as we carve out a life together, I’d love to give this to you as a sign that we are a committed couple. The Blood Oath is something that grows out of love and trust, and when we are both ready, I’m totally willing to do it with you.”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to really give me a ring,” he says, reaching to take it. He weighs it in his palm, then lifts it to examine the stone.

“Don’t ask me what stone it is,” she says. “The Devil gave him this ring right off his hand when he sold his soul.”

He looks up into her eyes with a gasp. “So it is true. This has been a well-discussed topic in the compound. Wherever people gather, at some point or another, someone will start talking about it.”

She chuckles. “Well, don’t tell them. Their lives will become terribly boring if you answer this question.”

He nods. “This is true.”

“Or tell them and then drop the question of me. Just casually and loudly wonder if I sold my soul too. I mean, where else will I get a sophisticated poison like Purple Airplane from?”

He hands her the ring. “Where did you get it from?”

“I sold my soul to the Devil,” she says.

He looks at her with a shocked expression. She smiles back reassuringly.

“No joking. You need to know this before I put the ring on you. I don’t think he’ll ever collect it, because Red King was one of the few humans he considered a friend.”

“But he still made a deal for his soul…”

She waves her hand at his words, sweeping them away even before he can finish the sentence.

“Which the Devil hasn’t collected yet. I don’t think he ever will. The Snake Tribe is his adoptive people. He loves us more than the rest of you. All because of Grandpa.”

“I am not running away yet,” he says. “It’s just something new for me to get used to.”

“Once you make the Blood Oath, you will become part of all the blessings Red King and I received from the Devil.”

“What was Red King’s blessing?”

“Dark Magic. Potions, charms and incantations. Nobody can take this away. Purple Airplane was mine, for protection.”

“Surely people can learn magic, potions, and spells?”

“That’s like saying if a Pruis puts enough miles on the clock, it will someday become a Porsche.”

He moves to embrace her, placing his chin on her head. “Listen, I trust that we belong together. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had this deep connection with anyone before, not even with a long-term relationship. To me, nothing else matters except you and me and whatever offspring we may produce.”

“Offspring? Is that what you’re going to call our kids?”

“Not to their faces,” he chuckles.

“But before we produce offspring, can we take our time growing into this relationship?”

“Sure,” he says. “I’ve never opened myself up to someone like this before. To me, nothing else matters but us and the home we are creating. Oh, and dancing in the rain with you naked. I want to do more of that.”

She enjoys the sly smile on his face. It doesn’t collaborate with the reddish tint of his ears. This, she has learned, is his shyness indicator. She finds it enduring that at his age, he still gets shy.

“Hmmm…,” she whispers. “I wonder if I can believe those words.”

He lifts her chin, looking into her eyes. Then his eyes drop to her mouth in a way that makes her feel warm and fuzzy.

“You can believe it. I wouldn't be here if I didn’t mean it.”

She leans closer, placing her lips on his. For a moment they stay like this, lips lightly touching. Then he moves his hand to the back of her head and pulls her closer. His mouth moves against hers, and she opens her lips to entice him inside. He moans into her mouth and then thrusts his tongue into her mouth. She accepts it gladly, allowing him to drive the kiss. The kiss is hot and hungry, but he keeps his hands on her neck and shoulder, not allowing them to travel to any other part of her body.

He pulls away with a sigh, embracing her. She snuggles her face into the safety of his neck, allowing his scent to overwhelm her completely. If she turns her head a little, her ear can pick up his heartbeat. She loves to be this close to him without pressure from him to give more. Moments like this, him respecting her boundaries, adds to the trust growing between them. Every day a little more. Soon she’ll trust him enough to allow him in her bed and body. Probably not on the same night, though.

“How does this new skin feel for you?” he asks.

“It’s still sensitive,” she answers. “I’ve been in this cloud of insomnia and depression for so long that I almost feel guilty to smile.”

“It’s clear that you have fewer dark moments now. You should show yourself some kindness. It’s been a while since you had reason to feel happy, and I’m glad to see you smile now. I know you lost everyone you loved, and you should mourn them properly.”

“I am,” she says. “At least this time I can weep, unlike with Gavin’s loss.”

They sit in silence, allowing the closeness to bring comfort. The sky turns darker and darker. In the village, lights turn on. From the corner of her eye, she notices movement. Turning her head, she sees Nancy and two of the new employees walking down to the river with towels. The sound of laughter drifts up to her, and she smiles. It is good to see people doing the things they used to do. Swimming. Laughing.

“What do you think they are saying about us?” she asks.

“Do you care?” he asks.

“No, not at all. I never did, but I want to know if their whispers might be a problem for you. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in our home.”

“I’ve never cared about what people know or think they know. If it ever bothers me, I’ll tell you.”

“Good,” she whispers. “Now, let’s get some rest. We both have important work tomorrow.”

While he showers, she washes the dishes and cleans the kitchen. Then she uses the bathroom while he makes a call to Grigory. He waits for her at the door of the tent, kissing her forehead softly.

“Good night,” he whispers.

“Ditto.”