He turned, then smiled. “Better?”
And he’d apparently washed up a little himself, because he was no longer streaked with flour. She smiled. “Much better.” Her stomach rumbled. She hoped he wouldn’t be serving whatever had been burning earlier.
“I used your phone to have food delivered.”
“Is that how you created the pretty flowers lining the drive?”
“I have my database, and DeeDee showed me the Yellow Pages.”
She nodded. “A marvelous wonder, the Yellow Pages.” She’d never heard of a database, but it sounded techy, and she wasn’t much into that kind of stuff.
“Do you like the car?”
“Very much, but I can’t keep it.”
He stopped midway to the sink with the dishcloth. “Why not?”
She opened her mouth to try to explain, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t understand about taxes and insurance. “It’s complicated. Besides, you’re really going to have to stop duplicating money.”
The doorbell chimed. “Food.” He went to the door and opened it.
Callie covered her mouth to keep from laughing. A young boy stood at the door with two boxes in his hands. Rogar had ordered pizza.
“Two supremes and a bottle of soda comes to twenty-seven fifty.”
Rogar took the boxes and soda, setting them on the coffee table, then reached in his pocket for money. The kid wore a dumbfounded look on his face when Rogar handed him a bill.
“I can’t change a hundred, sir.”
“I don’t need it changed. Here’s another for your trouble. Will that suffice?”
“Yes,” he squeaked. He cleared his throat. “Thank you, thank you so much! Bitchin’ cars, too.” He took off running. Callie wondered if the kid thought Rogar would change his mind.
Rogar scooped up the boxes and carried them to the table. “I hope you like pizza. The yellow pages said they were voted number one.”
“I love pizza.”
He opened the box and inhaled. “I think I will, too.” He put a slice on each of their plates, juggling it because it was hot. He motioned for her to sit, then twisted the cap off the soda, sticking it toward her.
Now he’d confused her. “What?”
“Do you want to smell it?”
“Why would I do that?”
“That’s what they did at the restaurant.”
She took the lid and waved it under her nose. “Two thousand nine, a good year.” Then she tried really hard to keep a straight face. He may have adapted to a lot of Earth’s ways, but there were things he just didn’t get.
He poured some of the cold soda in each of their glasses before he sat across from her. She raised hers to her lips and took a drink. “Very good.”
He smiled. When he reached for his fork, she shook her head.
“There’s only one right way to eat pizza.” She picked up the wedge and took a bite, swirling the cheese around her finger and poking it in her mouth. “Good.” She nodded her head as she chewed.
He picked up his slice and took a bite. She laughed when his cheese stretched out and he couldn’t get to the end of it.
“Just pinch it with your fingers,” she told him. “Don’t you have pizza on New Symtaria?”
He shook his head. “We have other delicacies that you would like, although your pizza is very good.”
She took a drink of soda, then set her glass back on the table. “Tell me about your planet. Are there trees? Oceans?”
“Our planet is the polar opposite of Earth so they are very similar. We have oceans and mountains, green grasses and trees.”
“What happened to the other Symtaria?”
“Pollution. We killed our planet.”
That sounded all too familiar. “What’s to keep the same from happening to New Symtaria?”
“Everyone learns from their mistakes—eventually. Now we’re careful to protect our new home.”
“In the meantime, you dumped most of the people onto other planets.”
He cringed. “Not dumped. When our planet was dying, my grandfather was one of the rulers. He made the decision to relocate most of the people, while the rest searched for a new home. It took many years.”
“And now you’re trying to bring everyone back.”
“Yes.”
“Why? I’m sure most have new lives. They’ve created their own roots in new lands.”
“It doesn’t matter. We need them to come back.”
“Need? What does that mean?”
He reached for his glass and she wondered if he was going to answer her question. Why did they need everyone to return?
Chapter 12
Rogar had blundered and he knew it. He stalled by taking a drink of the liquid Callie called soda, then choked and coughed as it burned his throat. This soda did not go down as smoothly as the wine. He brought his napkin to his mouth as he tried to bring his fit of coughing under control.
Callie’s birthday celebration was not going well. At least, not as well as DeeDee had said it would. He and Callie should be in bed making love. DeeDee told him that women appreciated when men made an effort to cook a meal. They wanted the fairy tale, the romance. When he’d looked up fairy tale on his database, it had shown a picture of flowers along a walkway. It hadn’t been difficult to find someone to come out and provide the landscaping. He’d offered lots of money, and they’d immediately done his bidding.
Nor did it take much to have a food store deliver ingredients for a gourmet meal. He’d thought the instructions for the preparation were self-explanatory, but apparently not.
When he’d researched romance, he’d come up with candlelight, presents, a rose-scented bath, and making love. It seemed everything had to be in that order. Not that he’d minded, as long as the last one on the list didn’t get forgotten. He had a feeling because the first two had been disasters, the last might not happen.
The bath with candles and petals was a good idea. That one seemed to work very well. The stress was gone from Callie’s face and she looked more relaxed. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t guarded his words as well as he could have. He’d make sure he was more careful in the future.
“You okay?” she asked when his breathing returned to normal.
“The drink is strong and made bubbles in my nose.”
“But you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then tell me why you need the people to return. You said needed, not wanted.”
“Maybe I chose the wrong word. Your Earth words sometimes carry a meaning I don’t wish to convey.” He’d lied. But it had been for Callie’s own good. Now he was starting to pick up her bad habits.
She smiled. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Not buying it,” she said, still smiling.
He frowned.
“You might as well tell me.”
He tapped his fingers on the table, then finally spoke, choosing his words more carefully. “Our blood has become too pure. If we don’t mix with impures, we will destroy ourselves. Our children cannot be of pure blood.”
“So mix with another species. Problem solved.”
“It’s not that easy. You should know that. There are certain consequences that go along with being Symtarian.”
“Like changing form.”
“Yes.” He picked up his glass, then set it back on the table without taking a drink. “People have been locked away, driven insane, when they heard their guide speaking to them. Or worse.”
“Worse?” Her eyes widened. “What could be worse than that?”
“Actually shifting. Changing into animal form, then changing back. Not knowing what happened to them.”
“And there’s no one to explain?”
He shook his head. “The Symtarians left on Earth adapted the best way they knew how. They were told to blend with this new society, so they hid who they were, even from their offspring, thinking they were probably doing the right thing.”
“Why didn’t your people come for them sooner?”
“The old leader died, my grandfather, others took his place…” he hedged.
“You forgot about them?” One eyebrow quirked upward.