Page 35 of Doran

“What am I going to do?”

I went over to the replicator and had it make me some Swiffer mop cloths, asking it to imbue them with a bit of lemon oil to add some shine to the floor and leave a pleasant scent behind. Then I placed one on my old Swiffer mop and handed it to Evan.

“Just go push this around on the floor in the living room and dining room, okay? Go up and down, not round and round, and try not to miss a spot.”

“Okay,” he replied gravely. “I’ve helped Daddy sweep before, so I can do this.”

I smiled at him. Sweeping and pushing a mop were two different things, but using a Swiffer wasn’t rocket science, and I knew he’d do just fine. Besides, the floors only needed a freshening up, as I kept them cleaned, and the guys all wiped their boots before entering the house. I’d do a proper mop job the day before the wedding, anyway.

Next, I replicated some textured dust cloths lightly imbued with lemon oil so the dust would adhere and not simply spread around, and went to work wiping down surfaces in the living room. I paused what I was doing when Evan came back downstairs with the requested laundry, taking it from him and setting the load to wash.

“Okay, now go bring me the towels and washcloths you've all been using,” I told him, handing him back the basket. He nodded and scurried away, so I returned to my own task. I’d barely gotten the coffee table done by the time he returned. I put those on to wash as well, and now that Matt was also done, I changed his Swiffer mop cloth after placing the old one in the recycler unit in the laundry cupboard and sent him to Swiffer the upstairs hall and their rooms. To Matt, I handed a small broom and dustpan and set the task of sweeping the stairs.

“Start at the top,” I instructed.

Laura began fussing then, needing a change, so I attended to that and gave her a piece of melba toast and a sippy cup of diluted apple juice in her high chair while I replicated what we needed for my sugar cookie recipe. I set the ingredients out on the counter and, after wiping the high chair and Laura off once she’d finished, settled her down for a nap in her crib.

I wasn’t surprised to find Matt had finished his task and forgotten to seek me back out, instead racing some of his matchbox cars around. Evan had taken it upon himself to take the Swiffer and managed to change the cloth, though he’d left the other one discarded on the floor, and Swiffer the stairs by standing on a step and swiping the one immediately below him. He’d started at the bottom and worked his way back up to the top.

“Are we done yet?”

“For now,” I agreed. “Go get Matt and meet me in the kitchen.”

After replicating two small aprons, I helped the boys measure and mix the dough and roll it out. All I had were Christmas cookie cutters, but two of them were a gingerbread man and a woman, so we used those. It was hard to stay mad with happy children and the smell of vanilla and warm cookies in the air, and I felt myself relax at last.

“Okay, I’m going to check on the laundry now,” I said. The sheets were finished, but the towels were doing a final rinse and spin. “Okay, while the cookies cool, let’s go hang these out.

I’d hung laundry out before, at Grammie’s before she’d moved to the condo she was moving out of now, back when she and Grandpa had owned a split level ranch in the suburbs. The boys had never done it, and Evan used the kitchen stepstool to help me hang up the sheets while Matt selected and passed out the colorful clothespins, insisting each thing had to have matching pins. The towels finished while we were out there, so a quick trip back outside was made to hang them up as well. I’d bring them in, mist them lightly with some water from my spray bottle, and put them in the dryer for fifteen minutes to fluff them up after.

The cookies were not yet cool enough to decorate, so I went into the playroom and fetched out my kids’ battered old Candyland game and played with the boys while we waited. Of course, I got stuck in the swamp, and Matt won, with us continuing the game to find out who’d come second. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t me.

We’d finished decorating the last sugar cookie and set them aside on the cooling rack for the icing to set when I saw the time. I quickly loaded the dishwasher, sent the boys to wash up, and set myself to boiling some eggs. I replicated some cooked and shredded chicken, cooled, boiled, and drained pasta seashell shapes, and a bottle of ranch dressing as I fancied a pasta salad for lunch. When they all returned from work for lunch, including Doran, who’d been busy out back all morning, the boys regaled them with how they’d cleaned “the whole house”, hung out laundry, and made cookies. I was a mere footnote in all of these activities, which made me laugh; the amusement echoed by the other adults. Best of all, everyone ate the pasta salad without complaint and I was glad I’d made enough for everyone to have seconds.

Now this is what a family is supposed to be like. They might be friends who are currently paying guests, but really, they’ve become part of our family. And not an asshole in sight. If Doran's family and my parents can’t get the memo, stuff them. We’re better off without them.

22

DORAN

Sarah was in a much better frame of mind when I came back in for lunch, and her mood stayed that way. We got to speak to the kits on the shuttle twice before they arrived, with Sarah refusing to talk to her parents yet. Today was the big day of their arrival. The wedding was tomorrow and our governor, Prince Johree, or just Johree as he insisted we call him, dropped by with his mate, Jesse Wilson.

“We thought you might like to borrow the wedding arch. You can replicate different flowers if you want.”

“No, no,” Sarah’s hands fluttered to her throat. “Red roses are perfect and yes, thank you. All I have out back is a clothes line and where he’s cleared a spot further back for the greenhouse.”

“Okay, well, how about we set this up and leave you folks in peace then,” Jesse said, smiling. “And then we’ll see you at ten a.m. sharp to get you two hitched.”

Sarah nodded and I went on to help Jesse unload the arch. He might always say to just call him Johree in private and only use the title of governor for official business here on New Haven, but I was not about to let one of my people’s princes do manual labor at my house. Especially not when he was doing us a favor.

“Hey, listen,” Jesse said. “The bots will have the school finished the day after tomorrow. I know your kids arrive today and you’ll have guests, but do you think you could spare a few hours helping with some minor landscaping for the park and help put up the stage the day after that? It’s a secret, but at the grand opening ceremony for the park, playground, and school, not only are Tarek and Darren making their public oaths of office and getting pinned with their stars, but Thalen is marrying Evan. His Evan, obviously,” he chuckled, “not little Evan. And Evan has no idea.”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Sure, I can do that, but is a surprise wedding really a thing with humans?”

“They’re rare, but they do happen. Evan’s going to love it,” he reassured me.

“Alright. What time do you need me?”

“Eight-ish?”