I wave to people as I walk, the girls bounding ahead of me with so much energy that it feels unfair. I'm definitely nearing the end of my pregnancy, I muse, because right now I hate everyone and everything around me. I don't, really. I'm normally a pretty even-keel sort, but being late-stage pregnant makes me grumpy. Everything hurts, nothing fits right, everything's swollen, and everyone's too loud. Yup, that sounds about right.
Kate and Summer pass by, large leather satchels strapped to their backs. They beam at my girls and look over at me. "Oh, you look good today, Nora," Summer says. "Your cheeks are so rosy and fresh! I love it. What are you using on your face? Is it fish oil? Or fat? Because Sevvah says she uses fish oil on hers when it gets dry but I don't want to smell like ice planet trout. What do you think?"
Kate's mouth just twitches as Summer rambles. She looms over the smaller woman, tall and fit and strong. She must be six feet easily, with broad shoulders and a sturdy build. She wouldn't feel as if the baby in her belly was a boulder, and her boobs wouldn't feel like watermelons. For a moment, I'm hugely envious of her.
I slide my hands under my uncomfortable belly, rubbing it. "It's a pot of some face stuff Maylak gave me. It doesn't smell like fish, though. It smells like…" I blink, because my brain has given out on me. I turn to my daughters, who are busy skidding their booted feet across a patch of ice and giggling. "Girls, what does Mommy smell like at night?"
"Daddy," calls Elsa. "You smell like Daddy."
Kate snickers.
I rub my forehead. "Sorry, pregnancy brain is getting to me. Tell Maylak it's the same thing I use, or come by later and you can have some of mine," I promise her. I really just want to sit down. My lower back feels tight and terrible. "Or all of it."
"Are you sure?" Summer asks. "I can—"
Kate touches her arm, silencing her, and I want to kiss her. Summer is a nervous talker. And a happy talker. And okay, just a talker. And normally I love hearing how her mind works because there's not a bit of pretentiousness in her and she's as open as she is chatty—but not today. "Did you and the girls want to join us?" Kate asks. "We're off to collect dirtbeak nests for fuel."
I shake my head. The dirtbeak nests are in a blind canyon a short distance from camp, but it feels like an eternity today. "We're visiting Asha and Hemalo and then heading back to the hut for a nap." Man, a nap sounds awesome.
"We'll leave you to it, then," Summer says cheerily. "You know where we are if you want to join us!"
They head off, and I gather up the girls, heading for Asha and Hemalo's hut. My friend and her mate tend to be a little more private than some—I think Asha worries people don't like her, and Hemalo likes to spread out with his projects—so their hut is at the edge of the village, next to an empty one that Hemalo uses for skinning. He's in there right now, with Asha at his side, her baby on her hip. She's toying with a lock of his hair and giving him an affectionate look as he gazes adoringly up at her. They're sweet together, and I'm glad that they've settled into happiness.
Asha looks up as we approach, and her lean face brightens into a smile. "Ho, beautiful females! Are you about to go hunting?" She gives me a teasing look. "If you are seeking mates, mine is taken."
My girls giggle.
"The only thing I'm hunting is a seat and a cup of tea," I tell her, smiling. "The girls wanted to ask Hemalo something, though."
As though unleashed, the twins rush forward to Hemalo's side, baskets in hand. "Do you have any scraps for us?" Elsa gushes. "Mama's teaching us how to sew and we're making tunics!"
"I want red scraps," Anna blurts out. "Mine's red!"
"I want the white ones!" Elsa continues. "You'll give those to me, right?"
They aren't even giving him a chance to respond. I wince at their bad manners, but Hemalo takes it all in stride. He glances over at me with a smile and then pats the floor next to him. "I was going to check on some dyed leather this morning, actually. Would you like to join me? I am certain we can find some scraps for you."
He's so good with the kids. Asha leans over and gives her mate a kiss on his plated brow, then turns to me. "Come on. Let us get that tea you mentioned, yes?"
"Will you be okay with the girls here, Hemalo?" I ask, just to be sure.
"Of course. They will be my helpers, will you not?" He hands a scraper to Anna.
"We will!" Both girls drop to sit next to him, all excitement, as if they've never scraped a hide before. I guess it's more fun when it's someone else's work. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
Asha heads over to her hut, pulling her braid out of Shema's mouth as she does. "You look tired this day, my friend," she says to me. "Does your back ache?"
I groan, following after her. "Constantly. I'll never get used to these fifteen-month pregnancies. How did you manage to be pregnant for three years without going crazy?"
"How do you know I did not?" she says with a laugh.
Asha and I spend most of the morning chatting and drinking tea. She tidies up and then works on sewing decorations onto a small tunic for Shema while the baby naps, and we talk about mates and the weather and nothing at all in particular. Asha's got a clever mind and doesn't really gossip, which is nice. She never says anything she wouldn't say to your face, and even if her words are sharp, there's no malice in them.
We talk about children, because babies are the biggest parts of our lives. I rub my belly as we chat, trying to get blood flowing.
"You look bigger today," Asha points out to me. "Do you think your kit will be born soon?"
"I sure hope so. I'm ready to have my body back."
She snorts. "That will not happen until you stop nursing."
"Thanks, sunshine," I grump, but she's not wrong. It's sleepless nights and shoving a tit in the baby's face every time he—or she—is hungry, until they're old enough to eat regular meals with the family. "I'm just hoping for one this time."
"It is just one," Asha agrees. "Your bottom is not as big as it was the last time you were carrying."
Damn. Harsh truth, but she's not wrong. And really, I don't mind hearing it. I'm hoping for just one. I love both my girls, but they were a lot to have all at once. "It'll be nice to have quiet time with my mate again that doesn't involve him massaging all my hurting parts," I joke. "I feel like that's all we do now."
Asha's mouth curls into a sly smile and she begins to speak, and then pauses, because the girls rush in.
"Mama, look at the scraps we got," Elsa bellows, her sister right behind her.
I put a finger to my lips, indicating that they should be quieter, but luckily Shema keeps on sleeping. The girls settle down in front of me and pick through the bits of leather that Hemalo has given them. They're pretty, the little castoffs, in all kinds of colors and shapes. I'm teaching them to sew them all together, and once it's made a patchwork fabric, we're going to cut it down into a tunic. I figure if they practice on scraps, they won't waste good leather…plus the patchwork effect is rather nice and it gives them something to do while I nap all the damn time.