Page 125 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

“Nothing,” Laina said, but she was smiling. “It’s just nice to see.”

They stayed for another twenty minutes before Brovish reminded Laina they had an appointment with another family interested in adopting a puddlewump pair.

“Good luck,” I said.

“Thanks.” Laina hugged me on her way out. “The cookies were perfect.”

Sofia flew back to Brovish’s shoulder as they stepped outside.

Brovish shut the door.

Traig was already at the sink, washing the mixing bowl I’d left there.

I dried while he washed, the two of us falling into the rhythm we’d developed over the past few weeks. He’d hand me a bowl, I’d dry it. His arm would bump my shoulder. My hip would graze his thigh. Small touches that didn’t need words.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what I might lose soon. I was already mourning something I hadn’t lost yet.

The front door opened again an hour later. This time, Krem arrived, a clipboard in hand.

“I have questions about the school program timeline,” he said, not bothering with a greeting.

Traig sighed. “Alright.”

Krem spread papers across the kitchen table. “Erika Collins from the school wants to add a second visit. Week four instead of week eight. That changes all our planning. Every piece of it.”

“It changes the schedule,” Traig said. “Not the whole plan. Let me show you.”

They bent over the papers, debating creature rotation and parent communication and whether two visits were better than one or just twice the work.

I started dinner while they argued. Mac and cheese. The boxed kind, because I was tired, and it was easy.

By the time the water boiled, Krem had won half his points and Traig had won the other half, and they were both looking satisfied with what they’d come up with.

“What are you making?” Krem asked, watching me stir the pasta.

“Human food,” I said. “Mac and cheese.”

His head tilted. “What’s mac and cheese?”

“Pasta with cheese sauce.”

“That sounds…strange.”

“It’s delicious. You should stay for dinner.”

He glanced at Traig, who nodded.

“If you’re offering,” Krem said.

I always made extra.

He left to grab a third chair from Drogar’s place.

When I served it, along with kielbasa and vegetables, Krem stared at his plate as if I’d handed him something alive.

“Just try it,” I said.

He took a small bite. Chewed slowly. His eyes bugged out.