by Tammy Walsh
Dyrel leaned over and kissed me on the neck.
“I want you to enjoy yourself,” he said. “And I promise, I will be at your side the entire night. I won’t leave. Not even to go to the bathroom.”
I would have chuckled but I was too nervous.
“You can leave to go to the toilet,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Okay,” he said. “But only when you go.”
I touched my hair and checked myself in the mirror.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re gorgeous.”
“I hope your mom likes me,” I said.
“If she doesn’t, she’s a fool. And she is definitely not a fool.”
“Why are there so many other shuttlecraft here?” I said.
“Mom was having a family get-together tonight anyway. So it tied nicely with our plans.”
The entire family.
I gulped. Meeting his mom was bad enough. Having to meet his entire family…
“It’ll be fine,” Dyrel said. “At least this way, you only have to meet everybody once. There are more people, so there’s going to be less focus on you. It’ll be easier.”
It definitely didn’t feel easier.
Dyrel took my hand and led me down the ramp and toward the huge house and the challenge that I’d been working toward for the past ten days.
I’d never been so scared my entire life.
A servant bowed as we approached.
A servant!
And there was more than one.
I spied at least half a dozen milling around in the entrance hall alone, carrying silver trays with bright gleaming glassware. The guests wore suits and smart evening dresses.
“Good evening, young master,” the servant at the door said, bowing so low I thought he must be a yoga master. “Your mother’s in the drawing room, sir.”
“Thanks, Qat,” Dyrel said.
Drawing room?
Of course, this building had a drawing room. It probably had several of them. What was the purpose of a drawing room anyway? Did people really draw in them?
Calm down. You’re panicking.
I took a deep breath as Dyrel led me past standing Titan statues adorned in traditional armor. Swords and other ancient weapons dotted the walls.
I entered that state where your eyes tried to take in everything, and in doing so, ended up taking in nothing. I must have looked like a rabbit in headlights.
“Watch out for Brislax,” Dyrel said, leaning in close to whisper. “He can be quite… grabby.”
“Who’s Brislax—?” I said before a huge Titan wrapped his arms around me. Then he ran his hands down my body and squeezed my waist.
Grabby was an understatement.
“You must be Vicky!” Brislax said, grinning with his stained yellow teeth.
“All right,” Dyrel said, before easing his uncle off my arm. “Hands off. She’s mine!”
Brislax peered down at the location of his hands and seemed surprised to see them there.
“I apologize,” he said. “We’re just so excited to see Dyrel finally settle down!”
Suddenly, all eyes were on me. They looked me over head to foot. Their reactions were diverse and wide-ranging. Snooty sniffs from some of the women, others smiles were friendly, and most of the men leered at me with a crooked grin on their faces the way the uncle was.
Dyrel took me from one meaty or dainty hand to another. He hurled a bunch of foreign-sounding names at me. I sure hoped he didn’t expect me to memorize any of them. I grinned and smiled, and only answered questions when they were directed at me.
“Yes, I’m from Earth,” I would say.
“No,” I’d reply, “we don’t live in caves anymore.”
“Our children don’t mature until they’re at least eighteen,” I’d reply, “but it usually takes longer for men than women.”
Sometimes they laughed, sometimes they snorted, and often the women preferred to gulp their drinks and say nothing at all.
Then everyone stopped. They parted, leaving a pathway through them like the Red Sea, leading to a delicate elderly lady. She looked very distinguished with her pearl necklace. She was clearly Dyrel’s mother. She had a smaller, feminine version of his face.
With the family circling us, I felt like I’d just been tossed to the lions in the Coliseum.
I scrabbled around inside my empty head for what the Titan customs were for something like this.
I came up blank.
What was I supposed to do?
Was I supposed to perform some kind of ritual? The dance? Was I supposed to say something?
Nothing came to mind.
She came to a stop in front of me and ran her eyes over my face, studying every detail. I decided to do what came naturally.
I curtsied.
She seemed taken aback. She glanced at the other guests before a smile broke across her lips.
“A custom of Earth, I take it?” she said.
“It is,” I said. “It’s a sign of respect from a bygone era, a tradition that has managed to survive, although it’s not done much these days.”
Dyrel’s mom glanced at her son and then back at me again. She nodded her head and performed the curtsy back to me.
“Am I doing this right?” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “But you don’t need to do it to me.”
Dyrel’s mom stepped forward and took my hand in her dainty ones.
“Oh, but I think I do,” she said.
I felt the warm surge of love from her, and though she only gave it to me because of her son, I was grateful.
In an instant, those who’d been sitting on the fence in their opinion of me smiled for the first time. They would go along with whatever the head of the family said.
“Are you hungry?” Dyrel’s mom said.
I nodded.
“Yes,” I said. “Very.”
She took me by the hand and led me across the room and into the dining hall.
I cast a glance over my shoulder at Dyrel, who beamed and nodded.
He might not be at my side, but I was not nervous anymore. The worst of the evening was over. I had met his mother. All I had to do now was play out our little scene.
How wrong I was.
Dinner was as sumptuous as I expected in surroundings that reminded me of Downton Abbey. The servants moved as if part of a choreographed dance.
Dyrel’s mom sat at the head of the table with Dyrel on her right and me on her left. Even I knew this was a seat of honor. The rest of the family took up the chairs down either side all the way to the end.
Everywhere except at the far end where a single plate sat with cutlery around the edges. A servant filled the glass with wine but no one drank from it. Dyrel’s mom glanced at it often. I realized that despite him having died years ago, she still cared very much for her husband.
She picked up her wine glass and got to her feet.
Everyone else did likewise.
“We’re here today to celebrate not just another family gathering, but our latest addition,” she said. “Times have been… difficult for Dyrel. They’ve been difficult for us all. Now, perhaps, he might be ready to rejoin our family and take his rightful place at the head of the table. Time will tell. But I do know, it will not be possible without the right woman on his arm. I can tell he has chosen well in the form of Vicky. And so, I raise a toast to Dyrel and Vicky, and hope we can look forward to getting to know you better over the years and decades to come.”
They raised their glasses first to the empty chair at the head end of the table, then Dyrel’s mom, then to Dyrel and me.
They took a sip of their wine and sat back down again.
I glanced across the table at Dyrel. He wiggled his eyebrows and beamed at me. I glanced at his hand on the pristine dining table cloth and wished I could take it.
The servants brought the meals and placed them in front of us. They removed the silver lids. I recognized it immediately.
“Do you like
Titan food?” Dyrel’s mom said.
“Yes,” I said. “The other day, Dyrel brought me a cream cake from an animal called a hexadodron. It was really delicious.”
Dyrel’s mom laughed. It was high-pitched like chimes blowing in the wind.
“That was always Dyrel’s favorite as a boy,” she said. “He used to eat so many we thought he was going to become a fat little boy.”
“Mom…” Dyrel said, embarrassed.
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” his mom said. “And it’s a mom’s prerogative to embarrass her son when he brings his first serious girlfriend to meet the family.”
The first meal was a kind of jelly soup that kept sliding off my spoon. I barely had more than a few spoons of it before the servants came and took it away and replaced it with the next course.
“What are mealtimes like on Earth?” Dyrel’s mom said.
“We have events like this too,” I said. “But most of the time, families have simple meals and talk about their days.”
“Much like ours,” his mom said. “These events are fine, they’re necessary when you have so many people around a single table, but I much prefer smaller, more private meals. So, what brought you to the Titan empire?”
A smuggler.
It was a question Dyrel and I had thought about for a long time. Finally, we decided on a simple, but hopefully, believable story that would explain how our cultures could come together without humans knowing much about the galaxy around them.
“I was sent here by my government to investigate trade between us and the Titan empire,” I said.
“You work for the government?” his mom said.
“It’s more of a private enterprise. I came here to scout for business opportunities if our culture are compatible.”
“How exciting!” Dyrel’s mom said. “Have you traveled to many of our worlds?”
“Only this one. I was out meeting Titans and learning about your culture when I met Dyrel.”
I smiled over him. He smiled back.
“Was it at one of the dance clubs he goes to?” his mom asked, doing nothing to disguise her contempt.
“No,” I said. “It was a small bar. The kind you have a glass of wine and a conversation with friends. I was relaxing after a long day, and there he was, standing at the bar. He sent me a bottle of Titan wine. It was delicious but too much to drink alone. I invited him over and we drank it together. He invited me out for a meal and we got to know each other.”
“What a lovely story,” Dyrel’s mom said. “I’m glad he didn’t meet you at one of those horrible clubs. Music too loud, unable to have a conversation… What is the purpose, I ask you? Except to get up to no good.”
“I used to go to clubs when I was young,” I said.
On the other side of the table, Dyrel bristled.
Oops. I had made a mistake?
“I didn’t go often,” I quickly added. “Just the odd weekend. You do it when you’re young on Earth. I grew out of it.”
“Not everybody grows out of them,” Dyrel’s mom said, pointedly not looking at her son.
An uncomfortable hush settled over those assembled.
I felt the tension rise.
I needed to step in to help relieve it.
“Some of our people on Earth take a while to develop,” I said. “Sometimes they turn out to be the brightest minds we have. Albert Einstein is one of history’s most influential scientists, and he couldn’t speak until he was five. He helped us unlock the deepest mysteries of the universe. Other greats were social recluses, or dyslexic, or hadn’t received much education and later became billionaires. A great man or woman will always find a way eventually. Even if it takes them a little longer than usual.”
I was a little breathless after my outburst.
And then realized everyone was staring at me.
Oh shit. Me and my big fat mouth.
The family was stunned I’d spoken counter to what Dyrel’s mom said.
But I hadn’t really. I only said…
What?
What did I say?
I wanted to protect him, that’s all.
And now I might have messed everything up.
His mom cocked her head to one side and peered between me and Dyrel. She sipped from her glass of wine and a small smile curled her lips.
“Well said,” she said.
Dyrel—and the rest of the family—released the breath they were holding and eased back into their chairs.
That was when Dyrel pushed his chair back and got to his feet.
“On that note, there’s something I want to announce,” he said.
Oh my God.
He was doing it.
He was actually going to propose to me…
And why not?
It was the perfect time to do it. His mom had just said she approved of me.
Dyrel reached into his pocket when a servant came over and whispered in his mom’s ear.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”
She hustled out of the room, leaving Dyrel deflated. He lowered back into his chair and peered over at me.
So close, his expression was telling me. So close, and yet, so far.
There was a lull in conversation after that. Family members split into different conversation groups, discussing various topics. At our end, next to Dyrel, his Uncle Brislax waved his glass of wine like he was brandishing it as a weapon.
“You mark my words,” he said. “There are more Changeling attacks every day. They’re up to something. They’ve never attacked us like this before. Unless I missed my guess, I would say they’re planning a full-scale attack. We’ve been too soft on them for too long. They’ve grown brazen. We never should have let it get to this point.”
“They don’t have the military to challenge us,” Dyrel said. “It would be suicide for them to attack us now.”
Brislax swayed unsteadily on his chair, his cheeks bright red.
“They never used to have a military at all,” he said. “But we supplied them with all the materials they needed to build their own. Just think how tragic that would be. They use the same raw materials that we sent them!”
His wife rolled her eyes and shook her head as if she had heard this story a thousand times before.
“We really don’t need to be hearing about your conspiracy theories now, dear,” she said.
Brislax slammed his meaty fist on the table.
Everyone hopped in surprise. His wife didn’t.
“It’s not—” He hiccupped. “—a conspiracy theory! Not when there’s so much evidence to support it!”
The other family members turned back to each other and resumed their conversations. They weren’t surprised it was Brislax that’d banged the table.
“War is coming,” Brislax reiterated. “I might not be the smartest tool in the box but even I can see that!”
His wife spotted something over her husband’s shoulder and immediately got to her feet. At her sudden snap to attention, the others stood up too.
Dyrel’s mom entered from a side door and returned to her seat.
“Sit down, sit down,” she said.
She spoke but had a cool and distant look on her face.
“Would you care for dessert now, madam?” a servant said.
Dyrel’s mom nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes. That would be fine.”
She bit her bottom lip and rolled it between her teeth. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone.
Dyrel got to his feet.
“Right before you left, I was going to make an announcement,” he said. “For too long—”
“Take a seat for a moment,” his mom said, her voice sharp around the edges.
Dyrel blinked at the interruption and sat back down.
The rest of the family was on tenterhooks.
“Vicky, you may not know this,” Dyrel’s mom said, “but Dyrel has made many promises to me and the family in the past—
”
“Mom…” Dyrel said.
Dyrel’s mom paid him no attention and continued.
“After his father passed away, his death hit him very hard. It hit us all very hard. Dyrel was just a little boy and he’d always loved his father so. And suddenly, he was no longer there. I assumed that with time, he would get over it and continue with his life. In his teenage years, he turned to drinking and partying, women, and the Creator knows what else.”
Dyrel stared at his hands in his lap. I’d never seen him look so beaten.
I wanted to tell his mom to stop, that it was doing him no good to hear this. But who was I? Nothing but a stranger in this place. I was the alien here.
“He made one promise after another,” she said, “that he would get better, that he would do things differently, that he would become the son his father had always been so proud of. You see, Dyrel has the same abilities as his father. I see the same look, the same wiring, the same vision his father possessed. A vision that no one else around this table has. Least of all me.
“I did what I had to do. I stepped into the breach and took over running the company, knowing that one day, Dyrel would be ready. He would step up and become the man we needed him to be, the man we knew he was capable of becoming. But he never materialized.
“Finally, I’d had enough. Enough of waiting, enough of working. I’m old and not suited for this work. I want an easy life. I feel like I deserve an easy life. I gave Dyrel an ultimatum: change now or be cut off from his inheritance.”
There were gasps around the table. Evidently, they hadn’t been privy to that piece of news before.
“Yes, you might gasp,” Dyrel’s mom said. “I would do the same to any of you if you threatened the company. The more senior you are, the more professional you need to act. At least during work times.
“So, I made a deal with him, to give him one last chance to become the man we all know he can be. Then he comes to me, telling me he’s found someone, someone special, who will support him the way I always hoped. And he brought you, my dear. When you turned up, I could see how good a woman you are. I might have failing vision but I can see that clear enough.
“I thought, for once, Dyrel had actually kept his promise. He intended on living up to his word. Finally, he would come back from the brink and show us what he’s capable of. And then, of course, I was called from the room and told some disturbing news. Something that troubles me.”
