But it was too chilly to stand out on the porch philosophizing—Roarn had asked to see the broken water heater and she intended to show him and then scoot back inside to make up the fire and get some breakfast started.
“Here it is,” she said, opening the door to the small room where the heater was housed. It sat there, a round, rusty drum—squat and dormant, as though daring her to try to get it to do its job. There were a few tools scattered around the base of it—Christine had watched some vids online and tried to attempt to repair it herself—but her efforts had gone nowhere fast. It was just too damn complicated.
“This…heats water?” Roarn looked at it with interest.
“When it’s working.” Christine made a face. “It always seems to want to break down in the dead of winter, when it’s freezing cold outside, though.”
She nodded at the water heater with a look of irritation. It was an ancient old thing, but she didn’t think it was completely dead—at least she hoped not. If she had to replace it with a new one—or even a refurbished one—she was going to be saving for a long, long time.
“This is…not how we…heat water,” Roarn remarked.
“I’m sure you have some kind of high-tech alien machine for it, huh?” Christine said. “Probably boil your water with lasers or something.” She sighed. “Anyway, I need to start working on breakfast. I don’t have work today, but I do have some errands I need to run.” She looked at him anxiously. “Will you be okay if I leave you alone in my cabin?”
“I…think so.” He nodded thoughtfully. “I feel…calm now.”
“Well, good. Breakfast, then.” She clapped her hands together. “Bacon and eggs okay? I hope so because that’s what I’ve got.”
He shook his head uncomprehendingly.
“I do not know…bacon and eggs.”
“No, of course you don’t. Well, hopefully you’re going to like them.” Christine smiled at him. “Are you going to stay out here? It’s freezing. But maybe your fur keeps you warm?”
He nodded.
“Warm…enough. But I will…come in…to be with…you.”
“All right.” She smiled at him. “Now that your curiosity about my ancient Earth tech is satisfied, let’s get inside. Oh, but do you think you could get me some wood from the wood pile first?” She pointed to the tarp covered pile in the back yard. “Need to build up the fire or the cabin will be like an icebox all day.”
“Of course.”
He went to the woodpile and came back shortly with a huge armload—much more than she could have carried herself—as Christine was getting everything ready for breakfast. Without being asked, he put several chunks into the potbellied stove and between that and the range, where she was frying the bacon, the kitchen began to warm up at last.
Rarev sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring.
“Smells…delicious,” he rumbled.
“Of course—it’s bacon.” Christine smiled at him. She was glad she had some bacon and eggs left, though this was the last of them. She was definitely going to have to make a run to the Food Lion later and stock up. She didn’t know how long Roarn was going to be staying with her, but she had an idea that she was going to need a lot more meat and protein than she usually bought.
They sat down to plates of crispy bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs and Christine poured them both mugs of coffee. Rarev tasted his and wrinkled his nose.
“Bitter,” he remarked.
“That’s because you haven’t sweetened it yet,” Christine told him. “Some people like it just like that, with nothing in it. But I’m a cream and sugar girl myself.” She patted her hips, which were wider than she would have liked. “As if you couldn’t tell.”
“You are…Elite,” Roarn rumbled, as she doctored his coffee with a heaping spoonful of sugar and some half and half. “Mature…Elite.”
“Hmm, well I don’t know what ‘Elite’ means but I’m certainly mature,” she acknowledged dryly.
“Mature Elite is…beautiful. Full…curves.” He made an hourglass motion with his hands in the air.
“Okay, well if you say so.” Christine smiled. “Try it now,” she added, nodding at his coffee, which was now a much lighter color.
Roarn picked up the mug again—it was one of a set that Christine’s youngest, Maggie, had made for her during a pottery class—and took another sip.
He nodded, his eyes closing briefly for a moment.
“Better. Good,” was his verdict, when he looked back at Christine.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “I never understood people who feel so proud about liking their coffee black. What’s so great about drinking hot bitter bean juice with nothing to doctor it up?”
“Bean juice?” He looked confused but she shook her head.
“Never mind. Better eat your bacon and eggs before they get cold.”
It was clear he had never seen a fork before—maybe the Monstrum used different kinds of utensils—but Roarn watched how Christine held her own fork and copied her quite well.