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"Who Woulda Known?" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG Compromises (1) Malcolm sat the PADD in his hand aside and took another bite of his breakfast. “What about this name for girl baby?” Sista asked, holding out another PADD to Malcolm Malcolm glanced at it. “Sure.” Sista’s lips tightened but Malcolm had already returned to his breakfast. Malcolm reached out to pick up his cup of tea and Sista shoved his hand down to the table. Malcolm looked at her. “What?” Malcolm asked. “You look. You say sure. You even know what I show you in last ten minutes?” Sista asked. Sista returned her hand to the PADD she was holding Malcolm frowned at her. He could see a fight on the horizon and he really hated it when she started them around the crew. And right now the mess hall was packed with crew eating breakfast. “I’m sorry,” Malcolm said quietly. “Show them to me again.” “Why? You no look.” Sista stared at the PADD in her hand with a hurt look. Malcolm reached across the table, laying his hand on her wrist. Sista looked up at him with a hateful glare. “Let me see,” Malcolm held his hand out for the PADD. “Lieutenant Reed, report to the armory,” a voice said over the COM system. Reed picked up Sista’s hand and gently kissed her fingers. He was glad he’d managed to escape this moment of humiliation. “See you tonight,” Malcolm said as he stood. “I sleep somewhere else,” Sista growled in a low voice. Malcolm looked down at her. He leaned on the table with one hand and rested his other hand on the back of her chair. Sista glared at him. “Jon, Nathan, Edward, Tristan, Paul and Charles. And for the girls, names I can’t pronounce,” Malcolm whispered. He placed a light kiss on Sista’s forehead. “Have a good day darling. I have cards tonight.” Sista watched him leave and then looked down at the PADD in her hand. It had a list of names that she had been trying to choose for their children for the last two weeks. Sista growled, tossing the PADD aside. # Malcolm sat his hand down. “Fold,” he said with a sigh, looking up at Archer. They were the only two left playing poker. Archer grinned, collecting the pile of toothpicks. “Another hand?” Malcolm asked. “Shouldn’t you go home?” Archer asked. Malcolm shook his head. “Marital spat?” Archer joked. Malcolm smiled, shrugging. “Not really.” “Deal another hand,” Archer said. Malcolm dealt them each five cards and they started another round. “Then why are you dragging your feet about leaving…not that I mind.” Malcolm sighed. “Vardee’s been trying to pick names for the babies for the last two weeks and I think I’ve seen every name in the database. No, two databases. She wants an Earth name for the boy and a Jit name for the girl.” Malcolm tossed a card down and drew another card. “Card?” “Yeah,” Archer said. “And?” Malcolm slid a card across the table to Archer. “Well, I just don’t care! We have a while before they’re born and even then I won’t care. I just don’t put much stock in a name. I don’t care what they’re named; I’ll love them regardless. I keep telling her that.” “You should put stock in the names.” “Why’s that?” “There’s a lot to a name.” Malcolm smiled. “You’re siding with my wife while we’re playing poker? Is that safe, Jon?” Archer laughed. “Raising bet two. Card.” Archer tossed a card down and picked up the one Malcolm slid to him. Malcolm tossed two toothpicks on the pile and drew a card. “So enlighten me, oracle,” Malcolm said. Archer laughed. He leaned back, looking at Malcolm. “My grandma got me into names. When I was young we’d look up the names of all my friends and I’ve watched many of them grow into the meaning of their names without even knowing it. ” “What does yours mean?” Archer tossed two toothpicks on the pile. “Raising two. Deal me two. It means Jehovah’s gift,” Archer faked a ‘Neanderthal’ voice when he added,’ “Trip’s means strong. Manly.” Malcolm and Archer both chuckled. “I don’t put much stock into names,” Malcolm reiterated. “I’ve never greatly appreciated mine.” “There was a Malcolm that was a king. And there was another that was a racecar driver. I don’t know what that says about the name Malcolm. But you’re about to have twins. Shouldn’t you at least humor her on this?” Malcolm smiled. “Raising five. Stand or fold?” “Stand. Calling it.” Malcolm laid down his cards, a pair of twos and a pair of fours. Archer smiled, laying down his royal flush. “I’ve not much luck tonight,” Malcolm said. Archer collected the pot. “Maybe next week.” Malcolm stood and collected his toothpicks. He looked at Archer, watching Archer putting his winnings into a small tin. “Jon.” Archer looked up at Malcolm. “Yeah?” “Thank you, Jon.” Archer smiled. “For what?” Malcolm’s smile was his only reply. Malcolm turned and left the captain’s dining room. Archer shrugged, collected the deck of cards and headed for his quarters. # Sista sighed, opening her eyes. “Lights,” Sista ordered. She rolled onto her back, laying her hand in the empty space on the bed where her husband slept. He was always gone before she woke; off to fix something, get an early start at work or exercise on his days off. Sista got up and walked into the living area. She stopped, staring at bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. Sista walked up to the table and picked them up. She looked down at the folded piece of paper on the table. Sista picked it up and opened it, hearing Malcolm’s voice as she read it: ‘I’m sorry for not helping with picking our children’s names. Tonight let’s talk over dinner in our quarters. Pick up something from the mess hall. I’ll love you always. Malcolm.’ Sista smiled, pressing the note to her lips. |
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