"When Mike finally told me why—which was a week after he walked out, mind you—he started out blaming himself, calling himself an idiot, undeserving. You know that self-deprecating Hugh Grant impression of his. But he couldn’t keep it up, and started running on the way he does when he’s nervous, and ended up telling me what he really thought."
Her hand still clenched whenever she thought back to it: holding the phone receiver in a grip she could not ease, listening to someone she knew so well, and so little, talking on and on.
"He was bored. I was boring. The things I cared about meaningless, embarrassing, childish." Laura lifted a hand at Sue’s outraged inhalation. "Don’t worry—I never spent more than…well, a few of the harder days thinking it was about me. But it recast everything, the whole of the time I’d known him, into a different light. Mike met me at uni, and I was part of the roleplaying club, and he took up roleplaying. And he read Asimov and Lem, and also the books that I loved. And he went to WorldCon and DragonCon with us, before the kids came along. Because those were the things that I liked."
"Are you saying Mike was, like, a fake geek guy?"
"Not exactly. It’s more…you remember Pete Filson? After he met Amy?"
"And became 500% evangelical?"
"Yeah. He wasn’t putting it on. But I guess you could say that Pete was drawn to the things Amy cared about. Mike fell for me, and so he was naturally more interested in the things I cared about. Just like you used to be very into beat poetry."
"I am still into beat poetry, thank you very much—or at least appreciate some of it. Jean-Yves simply introduced me to it."
"And I introduced Mike to fandom, and he enjoyed himself a lot, really and truly, but then he met Margaret, and she was very much not into swords, sorcery or spaceships. The more he wanted her, the less he liked the things that she disdained."
Laura paused, watching her sister collect one of the mugs of coffee, and drink deeply.
"So, unconsciously a fake geek guy?"
"Cass did something similar to me a few years later, you know. Found a cooler Mum and suddenly stopped liking the things I liked. But she deep-down enjoys SF, and eventually recovered."
Sue drained her mug of coffee and swapped it for Laura’s. "So, if I’m understanding you right, you’re worried that Serious Soldier is suddenly going to buy a bunch of miniatures and start painting them? Borrow all your ten-sided dice? In order to impress you? Oh, gods, if he starts roleplaying, can I be game master? I will pay you. I’d even let you have the rest of my coffee stash."
"Somehow, I suspect Gidds' idea of roleplaying would involve being exactly himself in any given situation. No, I don’t expect him to go quite so overboard, but he’s following the same pattern: he’s attracted to me, so he’s showing an interest in the things that interest me. He even wants to meet up in the latest game I’m playing."
Sue made several faces, shook her head, climbed to her feet, and then ceremoniously bonked Laura on the forehead with her mug.
"You find the oddest things to get worried about. Look, do you want me to argue you into this, or out of this? No, don’t answer that. It’s no fun for me if you give up at the start. But do you remember back when Bet and I finally convinced you to let us set you up on a couple of dates, and you told us what kind of guy you’d consider?"
"Someone who likes the things I do," Laura said. "Someone who gets me. And someone who is honest enough not to have affairs."
"Yeah, it sounded so simple, but I think going and scaling a few mountains looking for the teeth of the Phoenix would have been easier. At least Serious Soldier strikes me as hitting point number three. Terminally upright. As for the rest…well, first, I don’t think he’s doing the same thing as the putz, and unless he starts pretending he’s been a tru-fan all along, finding something you can enjoy together is a good and logical thing to do—and you totally need to tell me exactly which game, and when you’re meeting, so I can stalk you."
"Only occasionally collapsing into helpless laughter? I’ll pass. If that’s first, what’s second?"
"You’re never going to find anyone here who really has all that much in common with you. You had a hard enough time on Earth. Sure, you could find yourself a creative Muinan who likes gardening and reading, but even if they learned English, or we translated everything we’d ever read or watched or meme’d, they’d never form quite the same cultural touchstones—not even Cass, who is literally a touchstone, but no-one here will see her as we do—or have their sex lives sabotaged by her in quite the same way, for that matter."
"What?"
"Do you have any idea the number of people who’ve propositioned me purely because I’m Kaszandra’s aunt? Talk about a mood-killer. I’ve hooked up in the past for any number of reasons, but faint family resemblance is a step too far. Anyway, you don’t exactly have the same relationship to geekdom here because you’re living the sci-fi fantasy. If Serious Soldier is actually capable of taking on the concept of fun, then roll with it." She drained the second mug and set it down. "Enough. Instead of sitting around coming up with silly roadblocks because you’re starting to think the guy’s a keeper, you can come into the city with me and Inika. It’s all arranged: Mara’s going to be our mandatory security, and we’re doing lunch and then getting smuggled into the back of an exclusive salon, and we’ll catch the school shuttle back with the kids. You could even get a trim yourself, Ms I-Like-Ponytails."
"I suppose I could get the split ends cut out. Are you going as Pikachu? Where did you get that anyway? I thought there was no room in your backpack for anything but chocolate and coffee."
"I had one made up for each of the kids—and me—as a cheer Maddy up exercise. I anticipated much breakfast hilarity, but haven’t yet managed to get up in time for breakfast. Did you know Nick and Alyssa have actually started jogging?"
"Part of their KOTIS preparation?"
"They’re very serious about it. After dropping off Maddy for her first day of school, they’re going on a KOTIS orientation tour today. I’m not a thousand percent convinced the military life is what they want, but can understand the attraction of exploring other planets. Presuming KOTIS doesn’t just station them somewhere harmless and dull."
"Have they told Cass yet?"
"Have you told Cass you’re starting a little crafting empire?"
"I might if I ever sold anything." Laura glanced automatically at her mail as she did so, and said: "And it looks like that particular conversation’s upon me. That dragon quartet."
"Nice! At the original price, or did you drop them?"
"I put them up, actually, in a fit of stubbornness. Art gallery prices." Laura found her cheeks had gone hot, and shook her head. "I’ll go package it up while you reassemble your humanity."
"That went years ago, darling. Just don’t ask me questions about turtles in deserts—or was it a tortoise? Anyway, pack, dress, lunch, go."
Chapter Nine
Muinan hair technology had moved well beyond dyes, and while Laura had truly not intended to have anything done, she hadn’t been able to resist a simple treatment that changed how her hair reflected light—but only when there was a static build-up. Which meant that when she brushed her hair it turned a deep hunter green, and then slowly faded back to its usual mid-brown. She loved it.