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Unfortunately, Kro had no such compunction, so he answered at the same time. “We slept well. Thank you.”
There was a knowing look between my mom and dad, and it made me want to die.
Why did he have to mention sleep?
My dad came over and patted my head when I just wanted to curl and disappear. He served me coffee, and raised the pot to Kro, asking how he liked his coffee.
“Black is fine,” Kro said.
My dad gave him several approving pats on his shoulder. “Excellent, you will fit right in. I have heard that these are some of your favorites.” He nudges another box of treats to Kro. “This is not anything that Plum has made, but these are some Filipino treats that we picked up from the store. This one is called polvoron.”
Kro picked up the plastic wrapped confection, and took a dainty bite of the shortbread cookie. He washed it down with his coffee. A low hum followed as he savored his treat. He reached for another one. “These are great,” he said. “Thank you for sharing them with me.” He opened another one and popped it into his mouth.
It was a little too early for me to indulge in treats, but I did so anyway. At least eating kept my mouth occupied.
My mom and dad carried over a bunch of food, and even though Kro looked like he was about to help with that, I said that it would be no use.
“So I am glad that you could stay,” my mom said. “You might as well keep the blanket because it was made for you, anyway. It might not help since I am not sure you finished the deed, however—”
“Mother!” I screeched.
“What?” she said.
Kro let out a hearty laugh and my father shook his head and went back to the stovetop to put some more sausage on the frying pan.
My mom put her hands on her hips. “You make it seem as if the sex is something that only young people do. You know old people also do—”
“Ack, hush!” I said, cutting her off. No one needed to know the end of that sentence. “And what are you talking about? Blanket? I don’t remember ever seeing it.”
“That was your Lola’s blanket. And hers before hers. We keep it in the family and we kind of remake it on our own and pass it down. It is supposed to be good luck for a new baby and hopefully it did not work too well because we cannot be babysitting soon. And of course, we might need to plan a wedding first.”
She see-sawed her head from side to side, as if she needed to juggle and readjust her entire year’s schedule.
I had no words to talk to her about because my brain was currently melting.
Kro was taking it in stride. “My family also has a blanket such as this. The females and other matriarchs of either our family or the growing family use pieces of the thread, or the cloth, to incorporate into a new blanket for that coming year.”
My mom beamed at Kro. “Oh, you see, so this is perfect.” She walked away as if they had settled something.
Meanwhile, my mouth had opened and closed so often trying to form words, I was like a fish gasping out of water.
Kro offered me food, and I grabbed at the plates automatically. I wasn’t even hungry, but if I didn’t eat, that would cause more discussion.
“Once we finish breakfast and clean up, we can be on our way, right?” I shot a look out toward Kro, who nodded.
“Oh, that is perfect timing,” my mom said. “After all, that will mean we will have enough time to go out as well and go do some more shopping.”
Kro and I helped clean up while my parents giggled over coffee. Every now and again, I looked back over at them and wonder if they were aliens.
“Are you okay?” Kro whispered in my ear. He scoured the pans with precision under the warm, soapy water.
I broke from my thoughts. “No, I don’t think I’ll ever be okay. Do you happen to know how to check if pod people have switched your parents out with a replicant? I haven’t really spent a lot of time in the universe, but have you encountered anything in your travels?” I prompted Kro.
He grinned as he hung up the pans. I wrestled my heart from beating right out of my chest. He had no business being so handsome and handy around household chores.
“I know. It’s a strange transition going from seeing your parents as your parents and then seeing your parents as people.”
“I refuse to see them as people,” I said.
