Steph's Outcast

I just…don't. But since everyone pulls their share, I either fish or sew or cook.

I settle in next to Elly, who looks as if she's about to give birth at any minute. Her belly is enormous and she looks distinctly uncomfortable as she sits by the fire. She has pillows tucked in under her hips and Bek hovers over her as if she's glass, holding a bowl of soup so she can eat. She smiles sweetly at him and pushes the soup away. "I'm fine."

Her voice is so low I barely hear it, and I deliberately lean away so she doesn't feel as if I'm intruding on a private conversation.

"Should I get the healer?" Bek asks, frowning down at his mate. "Is it time?"

She shakes her head. "It's all right." When he hesitates, she reaches out and touches his hand. "Can I help decorate the eggs?"

Bek looks absolutely grateful to have something to do. "I will speak to Shail at once. Wait here." He sets the bowl down and races off, heading down the beach.

Eggs? Curious, I look around and sure enough, Gail is at the second campfire, leaning over a boiling pot. Liz's two oldest girls and Rukhar are with her, along with her son Z'hren and Willa, who is also about to pop, baby-wise. "What's going on with the eggs?"

Elly just gives me a shy smile. "Easter egg hunt."

Oh. I know the kits have been restless, and I also know that holidays are an arbitrary sort of thing here. When people get bored and stir-crazy, it's time for a holiday, regardless of the day itself. I watch as Daisy and Bridget approach with a few small pots of paint that Bridget uses to decorate her pottery. "Hope you like eggs," Daisy says brightly. "Taushen found a whole nest of them in the sand, freshly laid. Gail's boiling them up and then we're going to color them and have them for dinner."

"I like eggs," I say, smiling. "Can I paint, too?"

"Paint and hide, if you like." Daisy waves a dismissive hand at my sewing. "That can wait another day."

Daisy still doesn't grasp how much work has to be done to keep a small village humming. It's one of the things others have complained about with her. She's kind and sweet and happy, but she also doesn't do much work. I don't think Daisy realizes it, either. It's something I've been meaning to gently talk about with her…provided I can catch her alone for a moment. It's not a problem yet, but I can see it building up as something resentful, and I want to help guide Daisy through it.

Sometimes I feel like the mother hen when it comes to the others. It's habit, from when my mother wasn't feeling like herself. I'd always step in and try to smooth things, try to handle the situation, try to understand it all so I can fix it. Both my mom and dad are gone, but old habits die hard.

But the idea of something different to do on this day, even if it's just painting Easter eggs, sounds like fun. I set my sewing aside after all and join the others with the painting. And as I work, I carefully set one egg aside specifically for someone small who doesn't have much.

4

JUTH

"Papa," Pak calls excitedly as I pull my empty nets back to the shore again. He dances with excitement, holding something colorful out to me. "Look!"

I toss my net down onto the sands, frustrated. Every day, the fishing grows worse. Our bellies grow hollower, and I tell myself we should leave. We should abandon this beach, since it clearly cannot handle so many people fishing its waters. Pak and I should strike out and find a new, better place to continue the Outcast clan. Yet I cannot bring myself to leave. Every morning, there is a new excuse on my tongue, and by the end of the day, I am angry at myself for wasting yet more time.

My son races up to my side and holds something up proudly. It is an egg, covered in the same bright paints and strange patterns that the rock is decorated with. Bright yellow and orange lines dance across the pale shell, and there is a blue dot on each side. It is…pretty. It is also unnatural. There is no bird in nature that lays such a thing. "Where did you get that?"

He looks abashed. "I…visited the basket. This was left for me." He immediately rushes ahead, grasping at my arm, his little tail flicking excitedly. "They are playing games with the eggs, Papa Juth! And they left this one for me! That means they want me to play with them, right?"

There is such longing on his face that it makes my chest ache. "Pak, you know the rules—"