Page 26

T he food was great, as always. The orange chicken had been a fantastic choice. Small bites of chicken deep-fried in a tempura batter, then tossed in a light orange glaze that was tangy and bright and not overly sweet.

I shared with Frank, and he shared with me. I liked the noodles he’d gotten, but I liked having a few bites of his better than having a whole plate of them to myself.

A few minutes in, both Benni and Vashti replied to me, sending me different versions of thanking me for keeping them up to date and that they would do the same and that they loved me, too.

My mood shifted, mostly because I realized that I was extremely blessed. My life was great. I had Frank, Harry, a fantastic job, and wonderful friends. Zanya meeting someone was not going to ruin any of that.

I still didn’t love the Ohuli being on the starliner, but that was a temporary situation that would eventually go away and, again, would not ruin any part of my life.

I pointed my fork at Frank. “If you take me for ice cream, I’ll watch another John Wayne movie with you tonight.”

His eyebrows lifted. “You will?”

I nodded, happy to have surprised him. “I will. But I don’t want the ice cream right now. I want to get some to go. To have with the movie.”

“I love that plan.” He grinned at me. “I love you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

We finished our meal, Frank paid, and we went a few shops down to the Cosmic Creamery. They didn’t have as many flavors as I’d seen in the past, probably because there were very few cruisers to eat them, but that didn’t bother me.

I stared at the menu board, trying to decide. “What are you getting?”

Beside me, Frank shook his head. “I have no idea.”

I gestured at the menu. “Rocky Road is a solid choice.”

“I don’t like nuts in my ice cream.”

“Good to know. Spaceberry swirl?”

“If I’m going to eat ice cream, I want something more decadent. That coffee fudge ripple might be all right.”

“It sounds good, but the caffeine might keep me up. S’mores?”

“A definite possibility. Or maybe a classic like Cookies and Cream.”

I shook my head. “There are too many options.” I kept reading. “Oh … there’s one.”

“Which one?” Frank asked.

“Waffle cone sundae. Bits of waffle cone, chocolate fudge, marshmallow ribbons, and vanilla ice cream.”

“Let’s get a pint of that and a pint of chocolate brownie truffle.”

“Wow, that does sound good. I’m in.”

Frank stepped up to the counter and ordered, and a few minutes later, we were headed back to my place to pick up Harry, then to his for a relaxing second movie night in. I had no regrets. Spending time with Frank was one of the great joys of my life.

The ice cream was packed into a cooler bag that could be returned for the ten-credit deposit Frank had put down to use it.

I was definitely not with him for his money, not one bit, but it sure came in handy.

Harry was still on the couch when we went in. He was sitting up, one back leg extended over his head as he licked the underside. He stopped when he saw us. “Hiya, Frank.”

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hi, Mum.”

“Hi, baby.” I laughed at how he greeted Frank first.

Harry got out of his bed to stand on all fours. “Frank, Mum made me a jumper.”

Frank looked at me. “Did you?”

“I did. That’s it on the back of the couch.”

“Very nice,” Frank said. “I bet you look dapper in it. Would you like to come to my place with your mum?”

Harry nodded. “I would.” He looked at me. “Can I wear my jumper? So I can show Gracie?”

Smirking, I answered. “You bet. Come on, I’ll help you put it on.”

I got him into the sweater, which he then displayed in an actual catwalk for Frank. “What do you think, mate? Dashing, innit?”

“Very much so,” Frank agreed. He cleared his throat softly, getting my attention.

I looked up at him.

“If Gracie sees that sweater, she might get a little jealous, and as I’m sure you can guess, I have zero knitting skills. I have zero fabric skills of any kind.”

I laughed. “You think Gracie would want a sweater?”

“Maybe not, as it would probably inhibit her flying, but I think she’d want something. I’m sorry to ask but?—”

“Say no more. Let me get my knitting bag and some yarn I think she might like, and we’ll work something out for her when I get there.” It was the least I could do after he’d bought lunch and ice cream.

I grabbed my bag, and the three of us made our way to Frank’s. I pondered ideas for what I might knit Gracie as we were in the elevator. I had a few thoughts but figured I’d talk to her first, see what appealed to her birdie aesthetics.

We had a quick chat after we arrived, and I sketched out an idea with a pencil and paper provided by Frank, finally holding it up to her. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s gorgeous,” Gracie said. “Can you really make that for me?”

“I can and I will. Just need a few minutes to plan out the pattern.”

Frank straightened from putting the ice cream in the freezer. “What did you come up with?”

I turned the paper around so he could see it. “A vest, which I’ll do in a beautiful pink yarn.” The yarn was half a skein left over from a pair of baby booties I made not long after coming on board. The yarn was soft and delicate and would be lightweight, so as not to hinder Gracie’s flights.

“That’s fantastic,” Frank said. “I can’t wait to see this.”

“No pressure,” I said, laughing. “I’ll just need to knit a gauge swatch first, then measure Gracie, but once I do that, I’ll cast on and be underway. I’m going to use DPNs and knit it in the round so there won’t be any seams and only one tail to weave in.”

Frank’s mouth came open, and his eyes narrowed. “I have no idea what you just said, but you are a woman of many talents, Ellis McFadden.”

“Knitting is a great way to let the mind work out other problems, too.” I grinned. “ ‘Sitting here with one's knitting, one just sees the facts.’ That’s from an Agatha Christie book.”

He nodded. “Watching old movies has a similar sort of effect on me. I’ve seen them so many times that my brain is free to work on other things while I watch.”

“Sounds like the perfect night then.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

While he found the movie, The Quiet Man, with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara, I worked on my gauge swatch and soon had the casting on underway.

We sat on the couch together, with Harry resting on the back of it near Gracie. It took me a little under an hour to knit the tiny vest. Frank was incredibly impressed with it, which made me want to knit him a sweater, although that was not his usual wardrobe choice.

We paused the movie to help Gracie try on her vest, which fit pretty well. She took a few circles around the room in it, then landed on her perch and gave me a nod. “Thank you, Ellis. This is the loveliest piece of clothing I’ve ever had.”

“It’s also the only one,” Frank said, laughing. “You look beautiful, Gracie. And well done, Els. That is nothing short of amazing, how you take yarn and those sticks?—”

“Needles.”

“And whip out a thing like that. I’d say you’ve earned yourself some ice cream. What do you think?”

I tucked my needles back into my bag along with the remainder of the yarn. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He dished up two generous bowls of ice cream, one each in the flavors we’d selected, and brought them back to the couch. I took mine, digging the spoon in for a bite right away.

We traded bites and agreed both flavors were exceptional. So good, Frank added a small scoop of the other flavor to each of our bowls.

I was having a wonderful evening, but even with the movie, and the knitting, and now the ice cream, I couldn’t stop thinking about Zanya.

As a woman, I’d long ago learned to listen to that little voice inside that told me something wasn’t right, and it had been nagging me nonstop.

I wasn’t going to disrupt our night because of it, but in the morning, I was going to Zanya’s, and if I had to use my code to get into her quarters and check on her, I would.

One way or the other, I was going to talk to her tomorrow.