Page 13 of Redondo (Mates of the Mylos #7)

CHAPTER 13

REDONDO

The music was a lot more entertaining now that we could understand the words. Unfortunately, while the singers sang mostly about love, or for some reason, about blue shoes made of a soft leather, Yllip’s parents were feeling more adversarial.

“This is what passes for a restaurant worthy of a celebration on earth?” his mother said with a sniff.

“A casual meal out to mark the day, yes,” Yllip replied. “Everything doesn’t have to be fancy, you know. The exoticness of the food alone is worthy.”

“Hmm,” she said, gingerly taking her seat as if the booth would bite her.

“We had lunch at a fine establishment, Lorprah,” his father said, his tone mildly chastising. “It’s good to enjoy the simpler things in life too, with long time friends. Especially when what’s on offer is simple, yet also exotic, as he’s pointed out.”

“I suppose,” she grumbled.

Yllip’s father, Jurt, slid in across from his mate. “I’m far more concerned, actually, about this whole Clutch business.”

“That’s nothing to be overly concerned about,” Father replied, handing them both a plastic laminated menu.

“Not be overly concerned about? It seems to me that our son joining another family is very much something to be concerned over. A buddy assignment is one thing, but to join households? Especially one that’s a non Mylos configuration?” Lorprah insisted.

“Our son is a Mylos,” Papa hissed, suddenly angry. “He may be Dragonii as well, but up until now, he was Mylos enough that you didn’t care. And even if he wasn’t, it shouldn’t make a difference.”

“Mother, you and Father are sounding far too speciesist for my tastes,” Yllip added.

“Did you just call us prejudiced?” Lorprah’s hand flew to her throat.

“If the label seems to apply,” he replied.

Jurt had the good grace to look discomfited. “My personal concerns only extend as to what the Dragonii might expect of our son and any repercussions thereof.”

“The Dragonii as a people?” Father asked, “They have nothing at all to do with it. Joining Ondo’s Clutch only adds him to Ondo’s household. It doesn’t make him a Dragonii citizen.”

“Why not?” Loprah demanded. “Isn’t Ondo a citizen? As are you, since they had you form a Clutch with him all those years ago.”

“Ondo is, yes. We are not. It’s why now that he is of age, he is head of the Clutch and I am not,” Father explained.

“It seems very complicated,” Lorprah huffed.

“Seems clear enough now that it’s been explained,” Jurt disagreed. He sighed. “My apologies for how rude we must have come off. We could have broached the subject much, much better.”

“So you’re okay with it now?” Yllip asked, looking surprised. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Jurt reassured us.

“Well, I’m not sure -,” Lorprah began, only for Jurt to interrupt her.

“For star’s sake, Lorprah. They’ve just explained it’s not changing anything except who they live with and how the household gets moved when they get reassigned within the Fleet.”

“Oh. Well, they could have said just that.”

“They did. You were too busy finding fault with the restaurant while looking around instead of paying full attention.”

An awkward silence descended upon the table at Jurt’s words, only to be broken by a perky human voice saying, “Hi! Welcome back. I see you brought the rest of your friends. What can I get y’all to drink?”

“What would you recommend?” I asked. “Since we are not here to eat breakfast foods this time.”

“How about some sweet tea?”

“I don’t like sweets,” Lorprah muttered.

“I can bring yours unsweetened,” our waitress offered, and Lorpah nodded.

“So, sweet tea for everyone else?” she asked for clarification.

We all stated our agreement, and she hurried off.

“She’ll want our food order when she returns.”

“I have no idea what any of these things actually are,” Lorprah complained once more.

“This morning we all just selected one of the pictured meals as they appear to be specialties,” Papa said.

“Good idea,” Jurt replied. “The one with the ‘pork chop’ looks inviting.”

It was agreed. When she returned and gave us our drinks, we all ordered the pictured Pork Chop dinner.

“Just like in the picture?” she asked. “With Texas toast and a double order of hash browns?”

“Yes,” Father said as we all nodded.

“Would you like any extra sides? Biscuits, maybe?”

“I’ll try some if you say they are good,” Lorprah said, surprising us all. She shrugged as we looked at her. “What? Enjoy a casual meal, you said, so here I am, trying to do just that.”

“They are the best,” our waitress assured her.

“And how about some gravy on your pork chops?”

We all decided against that.

“Okie dokie. I’ll get this to the cook. Be sure to save room for some pie for dessert!” She gestured towards two glass domes on the counter. One held a pastry filled with nuts of some kind, and the other had a billowy dark brown and white creamy confection sort of filling.

They did look delicious.

“Those look very sweet,” Lorprah said.

“They are,” the waitress replied sympathetically before hurrying away.

“You would probably enjoy one of their coffees instead. Just do not add any sugar, but do add some creamer. It is a bitter drink.”

She perked up at that. “Perhaps I will.”

Thankfully, the rest of the meal went much more amicably.

“I could eat two of those pork chops easily,” Jurt said, pushing his empty plate away.

“It was very good,” Papa agreed.

“Much better than I expected,” Lorprah admitted. “I wouldn’t mind eating at this establishment again, if we had a reason to be here.”

“It’s a chain back on earth, so if you come visit us, you’ll have a chance to,” Yllip informed her.

“Oh! Well, I suppose then we shall, at some point.”

“All done?” Our waitress began clearing our plates.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Will you be wanting some dessert?”

“I’d like a coffee,” Lorprah said.

“And a piece of each pie for the rest of us, I think,” Papa added.

Our waitress laughed. “Coming right up.”

“We can’t take too long over dessert,” Lorpah said. “We need to be at the auditorium for the ceremony soon.”

“We’ll be there on time,” Jurt reassured her as our waitress reappeared with a tray full of our pies.

“Just the one coffee?” she asked as she handed the pies out. “Or would you like a tea refill?”

“What is usual?” Papa asked her once more.

Her smile widened. “People often have coffee with dessert, but it’s pretty flexible. It does take the edge off of the sweet, though.”

“True,” Father said. “Remember how sour the orange juice became? Before, it was merely tart.”

We all decided on having coffee. It turned out to be a great choice as the pecan pie was tooth achingly sweet. So much so, we all struggled to fish the slices we’d ordered.

“Good, but perhaps best nibbled slowly and in small slices,” Yllip said as he doggedly lifted up another forkful.

Our waitress boxed up the remainder of our pie when it became obvious we would otherwise be late.

“Congratulations on graduating,” she called out to us as we left.

Yllip bumped his shoulder against my arm

“Told you it would be fine.”

I gave him a mock glare. “It almost wasn’t.”

He grinned unrepentantly. “But it was.”

He was incorrigible.