Something Made of Vacuum

They found themselves back on the balcony overlooking the city, their helmets in their hands. Fliers wheeled through the indoor air above the bright-lit boulevards.

“I want to buy some clothes,” Helene said. “I don’t have anything since my suitcase exploded. What do you do when you come to air town? Do you keep clothes in a locker or something?”

“No, if I’m going to be here for a while I just buy some clothes, then throw them away when I go back home. Come to think of it, I guess it’s funny that I can’t accept creating garbage when I’m home but it doesn’t bother me in air town.”

“But isn’t that expensive?”

“I’m not here that much, and anyway, if I kept the clothes I’d, you know, have them.”

She looked at him quizzically. “I’m trying to picture you in clothes. What style do you wear?”

“Whatever’s on sale,” he said. “You look beautiful in your suit, but I really want to see you in clothes again, too.”

“How long does it take to get a suit painted? A couple of hours? Why don’t we leave my suit to be painted and we’ll get some dinner?”

“We have to get clothes first, or we won’t have anything to wear while your suit gets painted. We have to check into the hotel after that, however, because we’ll need to get a technician to get us out of our suits.”

“Clothes first, then hotel, then dinner. Which hotel?”

“Do you have a preference?”

“Just that I don’t want to go back to the one I was staying in before,” she said.

“Okay, the Caravansary, then. I usually go there, and they have artists who will come there so we don’t have to bring the suits out.” A car arrived for them and they rolled quietly down the zig-zag streets to the crater floor and were carried toward the hotel. The crowds, as Helene had noticed before, were about equally thick at any hour of the day. Every planet in the Ecumene had close to a 24-hour day, and the travelers were all on their own schedules. Most of the businesses ran continuously, and when the smallest mom-and-pop businesses closed at the end of whatever day they observed, others were opening for their own mornings.

Tom stopped them before a clothing shop and they went in, while the car re-entered the street traffic and drove away. Helene’s measurements were available from her suit fitting, and Tom’s measurements had not, he assured the store clerk, changed since his last purchase.

Helene brought up her full-body image on the display, added undergarments and then tried on a number of different looks. She settled on an ensemble that was currently fashionable on Earth: a smooth sweater of lightweight cotton with a cowl neck in light blue, a long dark blue cotton skirt with a vertical panel of beige, white purse and high-heeled shoes. She added a little necklace with a yellow gem.

Tom, selecting an outfit from the must-go, clearance sale catalog, had something that apparently had been the height of fashion in some nation on Earth II two years ago. His outfit included a broad-brimmed hat, a short ruffled jacket and tights in three shades of green. Helene looked at the image on the display he was using. “Is that really what your body shape is?” she asked.

“I guess so.”

“You look pretty muscley. Why would you want to dress up like a cake topper? Here, let me help you out.” She chose a white buttoned shirt with fancy cufflinks, brown pleated pants and brown shoes.

“Kind of expensive,” Tom complained. “I can only stay away from work for a day or two. Also, it looks a little stodgy.”

“I like stodgy. As you ought to know.”

“Okay, let’s have these delivered to the hotel,” he said. They left, and walked two blocks to the Caravansary Hotel, but did not hold hands because their bulky suits would have blocked the sidewalk entirely.

Check-in was accomplished entirely by an electronic conversation between their suits and the hotel computer. A young woman technician led Helene away in one direction to have her suit removed, while a male technician led Tom the other way. Helene stood uncomfortably while the technician unfastened the ring gasket at her waist joint with specialized tools, uncoupled the power, signal, water and other connections, and helped her pull out of the upper half of the suit. She was then even more uncomfortable while the technician hinged opened the bottom half at various junctures and helped her remove appliances intimately connected to her body. The robot cart from the clothes shop arrived and she was able to get dressed. The clothes fit perfectly.

When she reappeared in the hotel lobby, Tom was already there, dressed in the clothes she had picked out for him. He was standing with a young man dressed in a red robe and carrying a large tablet computer. “Helene,” Tom said, “this is Henrik Artor. He painted the design for my suit, and for a bunch of other people in my family. I think he’s really good. Henrik, this is Helene Friedman.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Helene,” Henrik said, extending his hand. “Tom, you may remember what I said about that design when I did it for you. I haven’t changed my opinion.”

“Spices are a good choice for me,” Tom said stoutly. “I sell spices.”

“My job is to give the client what he wants, but still ...” Henrik said. “We should be grateful you aren’t in the business of selling hemorrhoid cream. Helene, what can I paint for you that will be beautiful and represent the real you and won’t be a bunch of leaves and piles of powder with labels?”

“I love the way this crater city looks during the Night when we come in on the monorail,” Helene said. “Could you do that for me?”

Henrik looked startled. “Helene,” he said, “come here and talk with me.” He led her a few feet away and said in a low tone, “I’m not a Moon Man but I know how they think. They come here for sex. I presume that’s why you are here now?” Helene nodded, her lips tight together. “If I put a picture of this city on your suit,” Henrik continued, “the boys are going to look at that and get the message ‘I want to get laid.’ Let’s try to come up with something else, okay?” He led her back to Tom.

“Let’s try to come up with something cheerful and pleasant,” Henrik said. “Something that really speaks to you. Tom, could we come up with a motif that would work for both you and Helene? Something that would suggest you’re a couple?”

“We’re only a temporary couple. I’m going back home in a little while,” Helene said.

“But of course! When you leave, Tom will no longer look like he’s half of a couple because no one else will have a matching design, but you will both have a memento that reminds you of your happy and significant hours together, eh? Now, what do you have in common?”

“Not much, I guess. I’m from the Moon,” Tom said slowly. “Helene’s from Earth.”

“But we all share the same Sun, don’t we? Picture a bright, generous, stylized Sun, one design for Helene and one that is similar, but not quite the same, for Tom!” Henrik sketched a couple of hasty designs on his tablet and beamed at them. “You will bring sunshine wherever you go, you will show the world that you are together, Tom will have a fresh look and Helene will be radiant! Radiant!”

Helene smiled and said, “I like it. And Tom, you can always go back to your old design when I’m gone, right?”

Tom looked rebellious for a moment, then relaxed and said, “Okay, okay. It’s a deal.”

“I will have your suits ready by tomorrow,” Henrik said. “Spend the night creating the bond that your suits will symbolize!”

As they walked away, Helene hissed, “If I pick up any speech habits while I’m here, somebody is going to punch me in the nose when I get back home. Does anybody here understand the concept of personal space?”

“Oh, Henrik works with Moon Men all the time. I guess he doesn’t talk to other people the way he talks to us. Most air-towners will keep theirs and your personal lives to themselves. Seems a little lonely to me, but I’m prejudiced. Let’s go get dinner. I know a Moon Man place that isn’t just for tourists.”

“I think I’ve had enough meatballs and little chunky things for a while,” Helene said. “I mostly went to Earth American restaurants before, but I know they have all kinds, so tell me something that Moon Men don’t usually get a chance to eat. Also, Mr. Spicy, not too full of the spices you wouldn’t sell to air-towners anyway.”

“There’s a Nova Terran place where they have stew. Moon Men don’t have any good way to eat stew, and it’s supposed to be pretty tasty.”

“What’s in the stew?”

“I have no idea. The whole deal with stew is you’re supposed to eat it without asking that question, right? Any ethnic stew is made of what-we-got boiled together with spices.”

“Okay, let’s be adventurous,” Helene said. “Moon Men really don’t eat stew?”

“Well, we would have to blenderize it so we could drink it from a liquids bottle. There’s not much point.”

“You guys are weird.”

“But lovable, right?” Tom said.

“Lovable, yes. Still weird, though.”

They strolled out of the hotel and down the street. Helene said, “I went to about a dozen provisioning companies here before I met you, and I actually made some pretty good sales. But there are a couple I didn’t get to, so I might make an appointment with them while I’m here.”

“How about if we spend a day just being together, and then I’ll leave you here because I have to work?”

“Okay, I’ll just make a couple of sales calls after you go, then follow you. Anyway, yeah, let’s be tourists tomorrow. What do they have here to see? I have no interest in casinos.”

“There’s a zoo,” Tom said dubiously.

“That could be fun,” Helene said. “What do they have? Elephants or tigers or something?”

“No, big animals cost too much. Aside from farm animals, all they have is a collection of little rodent-things from eight planets. Some of them are kind of interesting. We bring our school kids here because those are the only animals most of them will ever see. They always hate it, by the way.”

Helene suddenly peered ahead and said, “Look, that park bench! Is that Gregor and Yeni?”

“Yeah.”

“They don’t look too good.”

“They sure don’t. What the hell?”

Yeni was sitting on one end of the bench. Out of her suit, she was a stocky, pretty woman with unstyled blond hair cut short. She was wearing a knee-length dark skirt and silk blouse, she was facing away from Gregor and her cheeks were wet with tears. Gregor was in no better shape. He was tall, well-muscled and looked good in a tunic and shorts, but his face was working and he was facing away as well.

“Gregor? Yeni?” Tom said hesitantly. They both turned to look at Tom and Helene, and Yeni tried a weak smile. “Hi,” she said. “Helene, you sure know how to pick clothes. Me, I have no fashion sense at all. I had to let the clerk pick stuff out for me.”

“Hey,” Gregor said. “Nice to see you.”

Tom and Helene looked at each other and came to a wordless agreement. “Gregor,” Tom said, “why don’t you come with me and we’ll get a beer?”

“They don’t have any regular beer around here,” Gregor said. “I get all urpy if I drink the fizzy stuff.”

“Then we’ll find something that doesn’t fizz,” Tom said. “Come on. Yeni, I’ll have him back in a while, okay?”

“Okay.”

When the men had left, Helene sat next to Yeni. “We can go get a beer, too,” she said. “Or chocolate, which I think you deserve a prescription for, or deep-fried something. Or we can just sit here. What do you need, Yeni?”

Yeni looked at her, said nothing and began to cry. Helene held her and said, “I kind of figured that was what you needed. Cry it out, honey. It’s okay. Just let it all come up.”

“Everybody’s looking at me.”

“Don’t kid yourself. They’re looking at this naked tourist bimbo back a way behind you. No, don’t turn around. So, the honeymoon’s not going so well?”

Yeni wailed even louder. When she had quieted a little, Helene said, “Yeni, let me take a guess about what happened. I had to take care of a friend of mine back in Chicago after her honeymoon, so this isn’t just a Moon Man thing. Her name is Condell and she’s a beautiful black girl from the south side. I met her at work. Her family was in this gorgeous big old church and knew everybody, and they were fairly rich, so when she got married she had like four hundred people attending, she had twelve bridesmaids in lavender silk, she had a wedding gown with a train so long they had four little girls carrying it, she got a ring big enough people were pulling her over all night to look at it. They had a famous band playing at the reception. They had a release of doves. Then they went for a honeymoon at a resort in the islands. They came home four days early and she wound up crying on my couch just like you’re doing. Yeni, she’s okay with her husband now and you will be too. You get over these things.”

Yeni looked at her and said in a very small voice, “Gregor is impotent.”

“That happens all the time after a big wedding. It’ll pass, it’ll pass. Look, the guy’s under a lot of pressure. You had this big ceremony, he just pledged the rest of his life, everybody was looking at him. He’s known you for a long time, right? But always in a Moon Suit. Now you’re naked together and this time he has to perform. I suppose Gregor and you have been to air town together before?”

“Twice. He was okay those times.”

“Twice, but this time you’re tired, a little drunk, all the stimulation from the biggest event of your life has just stopped suddenly and you’re in a hotel room surrounded by people who aren’t members of your tribe and don’t understand you. Yeni, it doesn’t mean anything. He’ll get his mojo back the next time you come here.”

“We haven’t had any sex in three days, but it wasn’t always because he couldn’t get it up. I wasn’t getting wet even when he touched me. We went out to a restaurant with food we had never heard of, and got sick all day yesterday,” Yeni said. “He yelled at the bartender and I yelled at him and we got into this fight and we both threw up from the food. We tried to go flying and I fell and he laughed at me. Just now we went for a walk and he looked at this woman with her butt hanging out ...”

“The one in the park here?”

Yeni tried to smile. “No, some other tourist slut. They have a lot of them here. Anyway, I told him to stop and he didn’t and we had a fight and now we have to go home tomorrow.”

“You only had, what, four days for a honeymoon? That doesn’t seem long enough.”

“It isn’t, but our jobs don’t give us much paid vacation time,” Yeni said.

“What do you do?”

“We’re both repair techs for shipboard equipment. I do refrigeration systems, and Gregor does air regeneration. The pay’s okay but the benefits aren’t much. That’s how we met. We work for different companies but we wound up on the same job a bunch of times.”

“You and Gregor are going to be okay. Honestly, this will work out.”

“I love him,” Yeni said, “but ...”

“Stop right there,” Helene said. “Yeni, there’s always a ‘but.’ I don’t care who he is, it’ll be something. He wants sex when he hasn’t brushed his teeth, he farts when you’re feeling romantic, he has a jackass laugh, something. If you’re going to be married, you have to not concentrate on that stuff.”

Yeni looked piercingly at her. “Helene, you aren’t married on Earth, are you? That wouldn’t be kind to Tom.”

“No, no, I’ve never been married. I’m just full of advice. All of it free and all worth what it costs.”

“Okay, I’m sorry I doubted you. Thanks for helping.”

“I see a guy over there selling ice cream,” Helene said. “You want some?”

Yeni considered, then said, “Yes. I’m over being sick. Actually, I want ice cream even if I’m not over being sick. It would still be worth it.”

Helene rose and walked over to the pushcart, then discovered that she had no cash and her credit was tied to her Moon suit. Yeni saw what was happening and joined her, paying for two chocolate sundaes with the wave of a ring on her finger. “Tom should have remembered to tell you to get one of these if you’re coming to air town,” she said.

“Does that count as a wedding ring?” Helene said, smiling. They walked back to the bench.

“No,” Yeni said. “It’s tied to my own bank account. You know, the only thing we have visually to show we’re married is the symbol on our suits. When we’re in air, we don’t have anything other people can see.”

“So you’ll do it with interpretive dance, right? When Gregor comes back, you put an arm around his waist, pull him close, look up and give him the smoldering glance. Everybody around you will figure it out. Even Gregor will finally figure it out. I mean, probably.”

She giggled. “Okay. Meanwhile, ice cream. This is so good.” They ate together in silence for a while.

Presently Tom and Gregor returned. “Hi, boys,” Helene said. “You don’t look real drunk.”

“Hi. Yeah, we mostly just did some manly whining and complaining,” Tom said.

Yeni stood and performed her dance: arm around his waist, look up, passionate expression. Gregor caught her subtle hints and kissed her.

“Gregor, Yeni, we’re going to finish going out for dinner. You two be good, and we’ll see you back in the village, okay?” Tom said tactfully. Yeni hugged Helene one last time and she and Gregor walked away holding hands.

“Thanks for talking Yeni down,” Tom said, as they walked toward the Nova Terran restaurant.

“Gregor looked pretty upset, too,” Helene said. “I hope we got them fixed up.”

“Yeah, he panicked when he couldn’t get it up.”

“Tom! You can’t just pass on stuff like that that somebody tells you in confidence!”

Tom looked at her and smiled. “Who are you talking to? I’m a Moon Man, remember? I know perfectly well Yeni would have told you that because she’s a Moon Man too.” He paused, then looked pensive. “Actually, that kind of thing is a plague on us, happens all the time. Gregor would have realized that if it had happened to somebody else.”

He stopped, looked at Helene and said, “Helene, we are strange and we lead unnatural lives and the truth is that we know it. It’s so hard for us to arrange time for sex that we get over-wrought and anxious when we finally do it. We have all kinds of sex problems. If you wanted to know about the secret lives of Moon Men, you just got put in the middle. We never talk about it, but I think we all know deep down inside that the way we live our lives isn’t a long-term solution.” He studied her face.

“Tom,” she said seriously, “this is taking me out of my comfort zone, too. I decided I was willing to sleep with you and then I just said so. I’ve never done that so … so directly before. It’s odd to have so much process before we can make love – we have to come here, buy clothes, go through that horrible un-suiting thing, rent a room, not to mention talk about it frankly. It all seems more like a negotiation than a roll in the hay.”

They resumed walking. “Thank you for making that effort,” Tom said. “Really, I think I understand how much you’re sacrificing, and I appreciate it. Here’s the restaurant. Let’s have romantic stew together.”

“What makes stew romantic?” Helene asked.

“You take some out of my bowl and I’ll take some out of your bowl. Our eyes will meet and it will be an intimate moment. Have I told you how beautiful you look wearing clothes? Ooh, this is gonna be good.” This restaurant was also an outdoor cafe, and they seated themselves and looked over the menu displayed on the tabletop. Helene guessed that the colonists of Nova Terra had come from either exotic places on Earth or from other colony worlds, because none of the dishes had familiar names. The menu showed the ingredients but many of the names were not helpful.

Tom, utterly confident on the subject of food, picked out two different stews for them. Helene looked over the ingredients and said, “This will be exciting, to be eating meat and vegetables from an alien planet.”

“People can’t eat any plant or animal that evolved on another planet,” Tom said, surprised. “Don’t they know that on Earth? The proteins are made of the wrong amino acids, totally useless to humans. All of the human food on the planets comes from Earth stock the colonists brought with them. Those alien rodents in the zoo, they have to eat food brought in from their home planets. That’s why it’s so expensive to keep them.”

“This is not Earth food!” Helene said. “Look at this list! I recognize a couple of things like potatoes and turnips but there’s no such thing on Earth as a ‘nutria.’ I presume some biologist coined that name for some kind of alien ‘nutritious animal,’ right?”

Tom looked down. “Nutria are from Earth.”

“Seriously? What are they?”

“They’re … they’re good. The meat doesn’t have much taste – chefs say that it ‘accepts seasoning well.’ So it will be spiced Nova Terran style, which I don’t know much about but it’s supposed to be tasty.”

“But what is a nutria?”

“Good meat for a stew. Look, here comes the food now.” A serving cart rolled up with steaming bowls, tableware and glasses of a dark red wine. Tom lifted everything to their table and the cart removed itself.

“Do both bowls have nutria?” Helene asked.

“Yours does. Mine is a pork stew, which would be from pigs raised locally. The nutria probably had to be brought from Nova Terra.”

“Switch,” Helene said.

She exchanged their bowls, then waited while Tom bowed his head for grace. She cautiously tasted the pork stew. “This is good!” she said. “Not quite like any cooking I ever had, but yummy!”

“This is good too. Want a taste?”

“Thank you, no. We’ll make our intimate moments some other way. Tom, do you always say grace before meals?”

“Yeah, it’s just something my whole family does. You don’t have to. What religion was your family?”

“We’re non-observant Jews. I mean totally non-observant, no-synagogue-unless-somebody’s-kid-has-a-bar-mitzvah, ham-sandwich-eating Jews. Basically nothing, in other words. But your family actually goes to that flat First Baptist Church, don’t they? Even when nobody’s getting married?”

“We do. But Helene, there’s no drama between us on that account, you understand?”

“I do know that, Tom,” Helene said, and extended her hands to take his. “You and your family made me welcome without knowing anything about me – well, without knowing anything that the suit didn’t report. I appreciate that. It’s nice to have that trust.”

Tom held her hands and did not let go quickly. “Sure you don’t want some of this stew? It’s delicious.”

“That much trust, we don’t have yet. We may never have that much trust, sweetie baby honey darling.”

Tom drank some wine and mentioned, “This comes from a winery right here in Theophrastus, and I think they have tasting tours. We could do that.”

“Sure. Tom, I’ll go wherever you lead me. Even to a casino, although in that case I won’t say anything but I will make faces.”

When they had finished, they left to walk to the hotel. On the way, Helene said, “Tom, one thing I want to tell you before we get there. I’m wearing a padded bra. I’m not flat-chested or anything, but this isn’t all me.”

“Okay.”

“I just wear pads because I think it makes me look more balanced. I’m a little beamy across the hips, you know?”

“No problem.”

“I just wanted you to know ahead of time.”

Tom smiled at her. “I’m pretty sure you’ve made that speech to other guys, haven’t you?”

“Well, yes.”

“Were any of them jerk enough to complain about it?”

“No, no, they were nice.”

“I will be too.”

When they reached their room, they embraced and kissed. Tom said, “I have an idea. Please, take off all your clothes except for your bra.”

“Wouldn’t you like to help me?”

“I think I’m going to need you to help me,” he said, abashed.

Helene flashed him a broad grin in sudden understanding. “You’re not used to clothes, are you?”

“Um, yeah. I sometimes have trouble with buttons. I’m not going to look real smooth.”

“Then I’ll just have to unbutton you,” she said, and reached forward to begin opening his shirt. She helped him pull off his shirt, then watched while he pulled off his undershirt. “You have hair on your chest! That’s a bonus for me.” She stroked his chest.

Tom was obliged to sit on the bed to kick off his shoes and remove his pants, not having had much practice in the art of undressing while standing. He watched in rapt appreciation as Helene undressed without flirting or fussiness. She took off all of her clothes except her bra, then stood with her arms out, welcoming. Tom rose to hold her again.

“My skin is touching your skin,” he murmured after they kissed again. “You don’t have any idea what a wonderful gift you’re giving me.”

“It’s a pleasure for me, too.”

“But it’s not … it’s not a major life event for you. People who live in air, they can touch each as much as they want. It’s different for me.”

“Maybe not as different as you think. Tom, this is important. It is.”

“Lie down with me.”

They tumbled – an odd slow tumble in the low gravity – into the bed. Helene said, “I’ll tell you something I like about the Moon. You can lie right on top of me and I don’t get squashed!”

Tom smiled but rolled off of her anyway and lay propped up on one elbow. They kissed for a long while, then Tom said, “Now I want some permission.”

“Well, of course, dear.”

“Oh. Thank you, but I meant I want you to take my hand in your hands, and guide it to your bra. Now tell me I have your permission to touch your pads.”

“Tom, of course you can touch my pads,” she said, positioning his hand. “But why?”

“Sex is more mental than physical, and it’s visual too. Look where my hand is.”

Helene looked. Tom said, “Have you ever let a man touch your pads?”

She caught on to his game, and said, “Look where your hand is. Tom, I have never let a man touch me there. You’re the first.”

“Your pads are warm because they’re right next to your skin, and they smell like you, and you’re a little self-conscious about them, which makes you a little vulnerable, doesn’t it? If anyone had ever criticized you about your pads, you’d be hurt, right? But you let me touch them. You told me I could, and I’m very honored.”

Helene kissed him, and pressed his hand down on her bra. “I’ve always been shy about letting a man know I have pads. If any man had tried to touch my pads without permission, I would have slapped him. But you can do it. I want you to keep doing it.”

“It gets better. I think we can make a new erogenous zone for you, one other women don’t have.” Tom stroked her bra cup gently and said, “Feel the sensation?”

“They’re just foam.”

“Use your erotic imagination.”

“Tom,” Helene said in a small voice, “you’re right. I can feel them responding. They’re getting warm and full and rising into your hand. My pads like you. I think you’ve hypnotized me.” She breathed deeply, and her chest rose.

“I can feel them swelling up. I can kiss them.” Tom kissed one bra cup, then the other.

Helene groaned and arched her back. “Tom! I actually did feel that! It’s like … I don’t know what it’s like. Oh my god, kiss my pads again and this time let me watch.”

Tom kissed her bra cups again, and Helene watched wide-eyed. She rolled on top of him. They held each other and she said, “I know it’s just me being suggestible, but you actually did give me a new erogenous zone. Damn, you’re good. Have you done that trick with other women?”

“I never thought of that before. You bring out a side of me I didn’t know I had.”

“Tom,” she whispered, “kiss me anywhere. Kiss me everywhere. But don’t let my poor little paddies get lonely.”

Tom rolled her down to the bed again and moved his head down to kiss her body. Anywhere and everywhere.

* * *

The light outside was unchanged, but the room lights came up on the “morning” schedule they had specified as part of checking in. After more caresses and kisses, Helene rose, still wearing her bra, and began to dress. Tom said, “I still haven’t actually seen your breasts.”

She grinned. “They’re a little small, but super cute and attractive. Really, they’re awesome. If you ever see them, you’ll faint from the rush of blood to your … from the rush of blood.”

“If?” he said, alarmed.

“I’ve decided they’re so good, I’m going to keep them in reserve. I’m going to save them for a special treat for the fellow who marries me.”

“Are you trying to manipulate me?”

“Of course I am! Judging from your face, it’s working, too,” Helene said. “I am a sales professional. I know some techniques to close a deal.” She finished dressing and turned to face him. She took a deep breath and said, “Do you like what you see?”

“Oh, my god.”

“Good. Hold that thought. In fact, obsess about that thought. Meanwhile, take me out for breakfast.”

“Helene, don’t do this to me ...”

“Tom, I’m just messing with you! Of course I’ll give you anything I’ve got. But look, doing anything on this dumb one-sixth of a planet requires planning out our steps. Step Two is to order us another set of clothes, Step Three is to come back here for a shower once we have clean clothes to change into, and I think you can guess what Step Four is going to be. But Step One is to get breakfast because I’m starving.”

“We did burn up a bunch of calories last night,” Tom said.

“I know, right? Do you think anybody here can make those blueberry pierogies? Those were really good.”

“Not like Aunt Carletta. You’ll have to settle for lesser food.”

Tom dressed himself but got his shirt buttons one-off the first time he tried, and had to be helped by Helene. Eventually they made it out the door.