The Mom and the Gentle Talk

The night was winding down.

The backyard was warm under the dull glow of the couple of sunlamps Meredi left on, hazy light flickering through the slats of the reinforced roofing above. I leaned on the railing and let the breeze of the fans stir my hair, thinking of the early days with the Merry Edge—how Meredi guided my hands, scolded me when I messed up, and then corrected me. Thinking back on it, it was quite a lot of contact.

Footsteps came from behind me. I didn’t turn, but I smiled when I heard her giggle.

“Feeling a little tired?” Meredi asked, her voice a touch hoarse from the night.

I glanced over my shoulder.

She stood there in her long housecoat, sleeves rolled a touch too high—as if her hands might need to fix something at any second. It was very tight around her forearms, but then again, her forearms were huge. She cradled a mug of steaming goat’s milk in her hands, pale strands of vapor winding up through the light.

I smiled. “You should be licking your wounds as much as I am right now.”

She joined me at the railing and exhaled into the night. “I don’t think losing to Valray hurts me as much as it does you and Cynth.”

“At least I didn’t lose to Cynthia.”

“Maybe next time....” She sipped. “I’ll help Cynthia out.”

I let out a gasp. “Traitor.”

She gave me a small, sideways smile. “So? What are your next few days looking like?”

“I’m going to be surveying the guards, I think. I want to know what substances they’re putting into their bodies, and then, I’ll see if there are any trends."

Meredi nodded. “That sounds very official. You might end up doing a better survey job than half the City Council.”

“It’d be an insult to think I’d do worse than them.”

She snorted. “And after that?”

I hesitated. “I want Ravela to take me to the depths.”

Her expression shifted—just a little. The cup paused near her lips.

“First the marshes and now down there?”

“Yeah. The scrap pile beneath the city. I want to see it too now. I want to see what the old world beneath this city looks like. There must be amazing things down there—things that we just don’t understand.”

Meredi looked down into her drink, then back at me. “It’s not the place for people who aren’t observant. And for people who don’t know how to look at another human with wary eyes.”

I met Meredi’s good eye.

“I trust Ravela,” I said. “And I’m very discerning.”

She held my gaze. “Alright. Just… don’t let her vanish on you down there.”

“I’ll keep a leash on her.”

Meredi huffed a quiet laugh. She suddenly reached over and casually knocked some piece of scrap metal off my shoulder. “Is everything good between you two?”

I didn’t see suspicion or jealousy. Just that clear, innocent face she sometimes wore. A person like this—maybe she had picked up on something instinctually.

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “I think I’ve recently been able to speak with her the way she wants to be spoken to.”

“She’s still a snake,” Meredi said with fond contempt. “She’s our snake, and you know she’ll bite for us, but she’s still a slippery snake.”

“Her venom will never kill—in the event that she ever accidentally bites.”

Meredi reached over and touched my neck. “Bites, huh?”

I kept my composure as I met her eyes again. She broke into some giggles.

“What a silly thought for me to have. How would that even work?”

I let out a quiet sigh of relief. I wasn’t ready to declare my intentions with her.

Meredi laughed quietly into her mug. “If you start talking to me the way she does, I’m throwing you into the nearest water barrel.”

“Fair.”

There was a lull, but it didn’t feel empty. Just quiet. She took another sip.

“I still want to cook for you. At your place.”

I blinked. “You do cook for me. Every time I’m here. You’ve basically been keeping me fed for the last month.“

“That’s different,” she said, brows rising a little. “I had this picture in my head. Me in your kitchen. A table set for two. No Ravela putting her feet on the table, no Cynthia sniping at you.” Meredi shrugged cutely, like she was twenty years younger. “Just me and you.”

I looked at her while trying to keep all the warm, fuzzy feelings locked inside my body.

“Got it. You want to have dinner with me.”

“I want to cook for you, so that you know I’m always here for you,” she said, smile heavenly. “I’m not helping you just because you show up. I’d try to help you along… even if you start to not want me around again.”

Again… Screw you, Timaeus. It’s a crime that you made her feel this way.

My throat tightened in a way I didn’t expect. I nodded. “I… would not make you doubt that you were doing the right thing. Thank you, Meredi.”

Her smile grew, soft and proud. “Good. Your dad would’ve liked knowing we’re getting along.”

And just like that, something in my chest went quiet.

“And the house was full. Everyone was here. He would have been happy. When’s the last time we even managed that… Hmm? Timaeus?”

I glanced away. “Meredi… can I ask you something?”

She turned, already reading it on my face.

“Please don’t bring him up. Not like that. Not in these moments.”

Her expression dimmed. “Oh. Sorry. Did I—”

“No,” I said, quickly. “You didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just… I need you to not mention… that father when it’s you and me here like this.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded. “Alright. That’s fair.”

“I’ll talk about it more. When I feel more confident in what I’m trying to do.”

“Okay,” she said gently. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I nodded at her. I wondered how much she had picked up on. I was trying to create distance from the idea that I was her “son.” Heck, from Timaeus’s perspective, he left the house when Cynthia was born, three years after Meredi and his dad got together. Then, the dad died two years later, and Timaeus was around less. That mother-son relationship was a fantasy that only Meredi was holding onto.

But… as much as I hated it for my own nefarious, impure ambitions, it was what made Meredi shine even brighter.

It slipped out at that moment—

“I know you’re doing your best.”

I caught Meredi’s quiet nod and gentle sip.

She looked toward the back door, then back at me with a half-smile, ready to shift gears.

“So… it’s pretty late—do you want to stay over?”

“Here?” I said. “Like, at your place?”

“No, I was going to send you to the forge shed,” she said dryly. “Yes, here.” She nudged my arm. “Silly guy.”

“But my old room’s metal storage now. I mean, I could take the couch—”

“Or,” she said, stepping closer, “you could stay with me. My bed’s huge. You wouldn’t even touch the edges.”

I stared. On the inside… yeah, I had frozen up. Meredi had thrown a giant, forbidden wrench into the gears.

She took a sip, perfectly composed. “And if you hog the blanket, I will elbow you.”

I shook myself free of the shock and managed a response. “An elbow from you might actually kill me.”

She slapped my arm. “Hey! Mean!”