Retrograde

Chapter 8 • Lusus Naturae

• Chapter Eight •
Lusus Naturae

Cael knocked on the back door of the Phelps's home. There were blinds over the door's window, so he couldn't see much until Mrs. Phelps came to the back door to let him in. She looked welcoming with long, gray hair framing her face and a warm smile taking up her lips. "You must be the one—Dominick," she said. It threw Cael off for two reasons. For one, she called him Dominick, and he didn't know how comfortable he was with that right now. 

Two? She called him Dominick and then held her arms out for a hug. Cael was hesitant at first, but he ultimately couldn't resist a hug that he knew he needed in that moment. So, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her as if he had always known her. "Thank you, Mrs. Phelps. I go by Cael." Cael released her before fully walking into the house. The back door led right in the kitchen, which was nicely-sized with an island in the center. "If you know who I am, then why do you seem happy to see me?" he asked, confused.

Mrs. Phelps closed and locked the door before walking to island, where it appeared that she had been cutting tomatoes and mozzarella. The stove behind her had a pot that was cooking on low. "Please, call me Lane. I suspect you'll be around often, so no need for formalities. And I'm happy to see you because I'm happy to see everyone until I'm given a reason not to be. I'm aware of what you've done, but if you're here, then that's a start to something good. And I cannot judge you for past transgressions that I wasn't there to witness and that you can't even seem to remember your damn self," Lane explained. Cael felt a sense of relief wash over him. "Now...be a gentleman and shell these shrimp right there." Lane grinned, nodding at the bowl of shrimp next to the island sink.

With all of the excitement that had been going on recently, Cael could use some mundane work. "Of course," Cael smiled, undoing the buttons on his shirt cuffs and rolling up the sleeves. He walked over to the sink to wash his hands. "What are you making?"

"My favourite. Four cheese risotto with shrimp and a Caprese salad. And I make it damn good." Cael gave a genuine chuckle as he started to shell the shrimp and de-vein them with a fork. It was oddly therapeutic.

"Is it okay if I ask how you got wrapped up in all this? What's it like for you?" Cael asked.

Lane chuckled. "I'll tell you like I tell Sabin: it's hell. It's stressful. Most of the time, my husband and I go shopping at night because paranoia peaks during the day for us. In the day...it's like a person who fears open spaces. It feels like there's so much more opportunity in the day to be caught, for some reason."

Cael was surprised to hear her say that. He had anticipated her to say something more righteous. "Then, why do you do it?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. Don't get me wrong, it has its disadvantages, but I was basically raised to understand the costs." Cael rose a brow, waiting for her to go on. "I've known Sabin since I was a little girl."

"What? How old is Sabin?"

"He lost count when he came to Earth—the Alusek calendar is different. But he has to be over 1000 years old. He said that he was born in Zefur, which is Earth's December, so I make him a birthday cake every December for shits and giggles." Lane had finished cutting the tomato and mozzarella, so she resolved to tending to the risotto. 

Cael could see why Sabin had the whole wise man thing going for him; he had too many years on him to not have learned something. "So, what did you mean about being raised to understand the costs?"