Home Is Where The Heat Is (Day 3 - Morning)

“La Cocina Chavez.” Hearing Paco’s voice nearly caused her own to crack.

“Hello,” Marisol said. “Do you deliver to Intendencia?”

“I’m sorry,” her husband replied. “That’s outside our delivery radius. We can pack for carry out.”

“Hmmm,” she said. “Perhaps we’ll look for something closer. Thank you.” She disconnected the public cortex. After a careful two minutes’ wait, Marisol pulled the burner from her pocket, and called up a different contact.

“Mi amor.” He connected on the first chime.

Now, the cracks in her voice would show without reserve. “Esposo,” she spoke haltingly. “I miss you.”

“You’ve made it to New Kasmir?”

“Si. My mission is done,” she offered. “I want to come home.”

“The niños ask about you every day,” he said. “And our Señorita Travis. We’ll all be so glad when you are here. Annalisa…you’ll be shocked when you see her.”

“Really? Is she alright?”

His quiet laughter caressed her ear. “How to put this?” Paco asked. “She is…blossoming.”

“Oh, mi Dios,” Marisol groaned. “Has she gotten her period?”

“I’m not so foolish to ask that,” her husband replied. “Abigail is her coach in such matters. As a father, all I can say is that she looks so much like you. It takes my breath at times,” he confided.

“And Luis?” she asked, suddenly feeling starved for information.

“Hmmph,” Paco’s tone changed. “That one. He might be growing, but who can tell? He spends his entire life hunched over that game cortex of his. I swear, his friends are all the same way. When they’re all together? It looks like a pot full of dying weeds…”

“Paco!” Marisol laughed. “That’s terrible!” Oh, but this felt good…

After a moment, the mirth subsided. “I miss that,” Paco admitted. “It feels like forever since we shared a good laugh.”

“Not much longer,” she promised. “I’ve quit the Lunar Veil. The next boat comes in a month. I’ll be on it.”

He registered surprise. “You quit?” Paco asked. “Didn’t get into a fight with the son-in-law, did you?”

“No, he’s fine,” she said, her tone darkening for the moment. “This boat has problems no mechanic can fix.”

“Mmmm,” he muttered. “So what will you do for the month on New Kasmir?”

She chuckled, her voice brightening. “You won’t believe it.”

“Dare I ask?” As she told him the story of her work at La Cabaret de Montagne, Paco alternated between surprised gasps and his all too familiar muted laughter. “And so,” she could hear his smile over the channel, “you wait tables, and now they have you singing. You’ve always been such a Diva.”

“Oh, si,” she giggled. “Total prima donna. I’ll have to cut this short. The Diva has commodes to scrub out. Just you know that in a little over a month, I’m walking through your door. You’d better be ready for me…”

She could now hear the shift in his tone, a sadness taking hold as he spoke. “I want that…I want you, cold feet and all, but…”

“What?”

Paco heaved a quick sigh. “An old friend came by the restaurant a few weeks ago. He asked after you…where he might look you up.”

She knew his careful choice of words, and the gravity of the underlying meaning. “You told him?”

“I did. He carried a brown leather pouch. Said he’d give it to you in person.”

Her eyes swept the floor of the cortex booth. She forced a swallow. “Did he have any news?”

“Only that there was much for you and he to discuss…before getting back to work.”

She was going back to war. They had a commission for her, and a set of orders. *Not a whiff of this in the back channels* her mind raced. *How did I miss this?* She cleared her throat to abate the awkward silence. “I guess I’ll see him when I see him,” she finally said.

“Would you like me to ship your trunk?” There was no anger in him; a sad resignation held in his voice as he offered to do what must be done. God, but she loved that man…

“No,” Marisol replied. “Not yet. I have to see what the job is, first.”

“Te quiero, mi amor,” he whispered. Call again soon.”

“And I love you,” she answered as the channel cut. “So much.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was really sad, she thought as she crunched through the snow, that the sight of Lunar Veil couldn’t elicit that nostalgic feeling of home she’d known while serving on other boats. With people like Lyen and Serena aboard, not to mention Dorian and Kate, she’d have thought that becoming a part of the crew would be the happy result of the shared camaraderie inherent in hard work.

The work part had been there, all right. But the camaraderie? Apparently deemed unimportant. “Too bad,” she muttered to herself as she strode up the LV’s cargo ramp. *And too late.* For Marisol, Lunar Veil was now spilled milk, a period of her life destined to fade into the past. She had only to collect her share to bring closure to this chapter.

The inner bulkhead was down, blocking entrance to the cargo bay in an attempt to preserve some heat within. Dangling from the personnel door was a wrench on a string. A hand written sign, *KNOCK,* was taped next to the tool.

Marisol lifted the wrench, delivered three loud blows to the door, and waited, jamming her hands deep into her coat pockets.

"Coming, coming." Said someone from inside. The familiar creak and clank of the hatch being work open sounded before it again creaked as it opened.

Bad blinked seeing Marisol. "Buddha's belly women where the hell have you been? Vacation?" Vas said waving the engineer in.

"I got most of the parts you asked for but we may have scavenge for the rest of make do without till we get to a place with more variety of parts." Vas said updating the wayward mechanic.

The punk paused a moment. "Why you still standing there?" He huffed.

Instead of beating the poor door with the wrench for a fourth time, she checked her watch. “Enough,” Marisol whispered to herself. She fished through her coverall pockets, then those of her jacket, to be rewarded with a pen and a scrap of paper she pressed to the door as a writing surface.

*Knocked, and knocked, and knocked again.

Froze, and froze, and froze some more.

Decided to give up before the wolves try “Ice Mechanic.”

Please send my pay to:*

*La Cabaret de Montagne

#5 Camber’s Mill Rd.

Aurora Creek*

*Thanks,*

*M. Chavez*

She folded the note, then peeled up a corner of the tape which held the “knock” sign. Once it was attached in plain sight for any of LV’s crew, the diminutive woman had just turned to walk away when she heard the shout from within. As the personnel hatch opened with a grating screech, she found herself face to face with Vas Jat.

*"Buddha's belly woman, where the hell have you been? Vacation?"*

“Town,” Marisol responded.

The crew chief issued a “follow me” wave as he turned away. *"I got most of the parts you asked for but we may have to scavenge for the rest or make do without till we get to a place with more variety of parts."* He’d made it several paces into the cargo bay before he realized that she hadn't moved from the ramp. *"Why you still standing there?"*

*Oh, this is great,* she thought, realizing that Riley apparently hadn’t seen fit to keep her crew chief in the loop. *Now I get to quit all over again…*

“I’m just here for my pay,” Marisol answered.

"What are you staying in town too?" Vas joked. Though the more he thought about it, if she was on a vacation that might actually be the case.

"As you say. Just make sure to let Riley know where you're staying so if something goes sideways we know where you're haunting. Not that there hasn't been much to do yet but you know how it goes. " Vas said leading her through the ship to the galley.

"Lieutenant?" He said walking into the galley. "Mechanic is looking for her pay?" Vas really wasn't questioning the little vaycay Marisol was taking, he figured she had to of cleared it already with Riley. Add on he was quickly finding that mechanics where a temperamental lot anyway. So long as the job got done he supposed.