Young Writers Society

7:00 am

Whatever calm plans of cuddling with Will had clearly gone out the window as Harry leaned back in the leather chair, with a cigarette and a cup of coffee.  With the interruption in mind, Jud should have been glad a shot of something didn’t go into the mug.  The equally ancient coworker sat across from her in a similar situation while their spouses sat off to the side at a beat kitchen table.

“Thanks, uh for the muffins, Jud.”

“Xe thought you would like something, and I did tell xem not to open your door, so I don’t know what you’re blaming me for.”

Harry broke another chunk off the muffin while trying to decide how to proceed.  The situation was partially on her for not locking the door and not making the door rule clearer.  It wasn't automatically known on a planet like this what certain things were code for, they weren't familiar with the practices she had learned in the Federation Guard.  All of those people were far too familiar with socks, neckties, and neon signs.

"The muffins are quite good but they're gonna guilt the hell out of me later."

A call from the dining room to say, "Guilt is in the title of the recipe.I got it from one of those snazzy little magazines."

Jud stared at the dark muffin on the table and lit the cigarette rolling between his fingers, while commenting, “I prefer to have my day start with one of these.Not someone catching my bagel on fire.”

His eyes leaned into the dining room, keeping a focus on Ria before slowly turning back to Harry.  She watched their minds bicker back and forth, the communication switch clearly turned off in their tele-conversations.  This fight was going the same way as any other and Harry had to hold herself back not to give relationship advice.

“I know what you’re considering and no.”

Harry looked down at the cup of coffee in her hand and tuned back into the details of Ria’s mind.

“Xe seems awful upset about something.  And I doubt it was just the yell you gave this morning when a sequence of fire happened in the kitchen.  Having any marital issues with your trophy husband, Jud?”

“We don’t talk about our personal lives at work.  You should know this seeing as you’re the one who created the damn rule.”

“Jud, the only damn reason I created that rule is because I started sleeping with my secretary.”

Harry’s voice started to rise at the very end of her statement.  It certainly went up enough for the rest of the room to hear it and possibly whatever junior detectives had their ears against the air vents.  As those pesky little bastards tended to do.

“Ehrietta Mava, you should be more careful with the thoughts that you think about your loved ones.”

“Don’t judge me, Schudea.  If you wish to talk in our minds and use our old names, please do so without alerting others.  My name is Harry.  I’ve left my old life behind, have you?”

And now the table turned to Jud looking down at his coffee cup, blowing on the small amount of steam escaping into the room.  The mug clinked against the glass tabletop and the air was filled with the escape of a new cigarette.

“We can be our new selves without leaving our old life all behind.”

“Well you having so many descendants does make it easier for you.  Planning on having another child any time soon?  Perhaps adding to the original second generation?”

Harry had now managed to find the right point to strike on, the right detail picked out of a muddled fight.  Children always were the source of trouble for couples, but Harry had not been expecting Jud to be dealing with an unexpected pregnancy.  At least not one that he had directly caused.

“Jud, that is what your fight is over, isn’t it?”

He looked around the corner one time, lowering his voice to let out a quiet thought of, “Yes.  I was not aware that children were still an option at this time in my life.  Or that Ria had the possibility either.”

“You know with this happening that I’m never going to stop with my trophy husband jokes.  Now that you’ve knocked the poor soul up.”

“Ehri, you make it sound like I was purposely doing this to xem.”

Another gulp of coffee passed down the right pipes as Harry tried to not laugh.  After a few more moments she managed to say, “Isn’t all sex purposeful, Jud?”

“You know what I mean.  Now I just have to deal with this shit.  Do you know how many great-great and great whatever grandchildren I have who are older than xem?”

“Uh somewhere around forty or fifty?”

“For reference, Ehri, my seven hundredth birthday,” Jud paused to raise up his hand, displaying two fingers while continuing, “is in two weeks.”

“Well Jud, do you want me to get you a cake with all of those candles?  Might bring around the fire department if I try and do all of that.”

Every time someone in Harry’s life brought up children, she went back to wondering if she might have someone out there somewhere.  Of course, there were all of the nieces and nephews and relations on Nerot, but none that were truly of her blood.  No one that she was directly responsible for in creation.  

Or if there was someone out there, they had never cared enough to come and find her.

“Ehri, I know those eyes of yours.  Do you wish that you had had children once upon a time, in a world better than our own?”

That was the question that they always asked.

Do you want children?

“Did you really want children, Jud? Or did you just fall into the matrimonial pattern of your home?”

Jud coughed once on his cigarette before saying, “How about we have another muffin?”

“Yes.”  She stopped before adding on a very quick, “Please.”