by R S Penney
It wasn't long before the house erupted with joy at the arrival of Jack's sister Lauren and her husband Steve. The pair of them had spent the morning and earlier afternoon with Steve's family in Ottawa before Slipping out to Winnipeg. From the brief snippets of talk Anna heard, some people were still amazed that such a thing was possible.
She blew on the surface of her tea, watching ripples spread across the brown liquid. Jack had been correct; this was going to be an interesting evening.
A long, rectangular table with over a dozen chairs was set up in the living room, complete with plates full of turkey, bowls of carrots, green beans, mashed potatoes and something called stuffing. Anna wasn't entirely sure about that one.
Arthur Hunter sat at the head of the table with elbows on either side of his plate, his fingers laced as he bowed his head in prayer. “We thank you, Lord, for the gift of family and for bringing us together today. Amen.”
“Amen,” the whole table echoed.
Most of the people here were strangers to Anna. Arthur's brother sat on his left, and then there were two young children: a boy and a girl. Madeline was directly across from her with Lauren and Steve occupying the next two seats. She didn't know the names of Jack's grandparents, nor those of his aunts and uncles.
Most importantly, she didn't know any of the customs she would be expected to follow. It took her by surprise when everyone echoed Arthur's final word. Would the fact that she had failed to do so be taken as an insult?
Arthur looked up at the ceiling with his lips pressed together, blinking slowly. “So I was talking to Mike at the gym last week,” he began. “Seems his kid is taking an interest in Leyrian religion of all things.”
“Arthur…” Crystal hissed.
The man turned his head to stare at his wife, his face twisted in a scowl. “Well, it's just one more example of how they keep pushing their views. We've got twenty thousand Leyrians working in this country, and suddenly there are temples to the Companion in all the major cities.”
Closing her eyes, Anna took a deep breath through her nose. Don't respond to the insults. She scooped up a few carrots with her fork and gathered them into a small pile at the edge of her plate.
On her left, Jack sat with his arms crossed, smiling into his lap. “Oh, don't mind my father, guys,” he said with a shrug. “He's just upset that Fox News North rejected his last three audition tapes.”
Madeline was scooping up a forkful of stuffing and shoving it into her mouth. “He's not entirely wrong,” she muttered half a second later. “One wonders if we can retain our national identity in light of the presence of aliens.”
“National identities are always changing.” That came from Crystal. She was three seats to Anna's left – completely out of view – but her tone of voice suggested that she would prefer a swift end to this conversation. “The cultural zeitgeist is always changing. We learn as we grow.”
“Look, I've got no problem with Leyrians,” Arthur chimed in. “I just hate the way they push their views on the rest of us. No offense, Anna.”
“None taken.”
She was lying, but what else could she say? She had opted to forego the turkey and stick to vegetables. Growing up, she had always been an omnivore, but she had given up meat for the duration of her stay on this planet. It had come as such a shock to learn that that when these people ate chicken or beef, they did not use cloned tissue. Some poor creature had to die to provide this meal. Still, the food was delicious. Now all she had to do was wait for an opportunity to say as much. Seth was growing angry. She could feel her symbiont's ire in the back of her mind.
The ironic thing was that if they were on Leyria, it would be her mother babbling on about savage Earthers and Anna's inexplicable desire to spend time with them. People were people wherever you went. She repeated that as a catechism to avoid adopting her mother's habits of thought. People were people: some were good, others awful. Jack and Harry were two of the best people she had ever met, and they were born and raised on Earth. In fact, for Jack to be the man he was after growing up with this…
Arthur lifted a glass of wine to his lips, closing his eyes as he took a sip. “So who pays for those temples?” he went on. “Leyrians don't have money, but they still need the building materials.”
Anna frowned down at her plate. “Seriously?” she asked, deep furrows stretching across her brow. “You're not aware of the fact that we bring materials in by starship for precisely that reason.”
The man seemed taken aback. Clearly he wasn't expecting her to respond. “Yes, but the property itself-”
“Traded in barter for medical supplies and access to Leyrian medical databases,” she snapped. “Your people have developed a host of new treatments for cancer patients and amputees thanks to the knowledge we've given you.”
Everyone was silent.
Arthur used a napkin to dab at his mouth, heaving out a deep breath. Doubtless he would reply with a tirade about respecting a man in his own home. She had heard such arguments before, but she was past the point of giving a damn about tact. “Well, Anna, I apologize if I've offended you.”
“You're still not getting it,” Anna said. “I'm not offended by your opinions. If you want to say something controversial in front of me, be my guest.”
She paused a moment to calm herself, to moderate her tone before completing her thought. “But if you choose to voice those opinions, be sure you can back them up with facts. Or failing that, at least be gracious when someone points out the truth.”
Well, there it was.
She would like the Companion to note that she had tried to restrain herself before falling back into her habit of speaking her mind without regard for the consequences. She very much doubted that she would be welcome in this house after today.
Lauren was chewing her food with her eyes downcast, scraping a fork across her plate. She swallowed, then looked up at her father. “Anna's right, Dad. The Leyrians paid us for that land many times over.”
“More to the point,” Crystal chimed in. “I would gladly give away every last one of those properties for the chance to learn about the larger universe. I think the xenophobia peddled by conservative pundits is absolute nonsense.”
“Agreed,” Lauren muttered.
That was unexpected. Anna had only spoken to Lauren a few times, and most of those had happened over three years ago. Back then, the other woman had been less than eager to say two words to her. She had blamed Anna for dragging her little brother into a conflict that had nothing to do with him.
Perhaps Lauren had changed her mind.
Jack took a sip from his glass of water, then set it down on the table with an audible thunk. “I'd like to point out that of all the people sitting here, I'm the one whose life was turned upside down.”
He turned his head to look at her with a stern expression, his blue eyes glittering in the soft light. “And if I had to do it again…” he said with a nod. “I would. In a heartbeat. My life is better thanks to Anna and Summer.”
Anna smiled.
For a while, they just ate in silence, and she had to admit, she was grateful for the lapse in conversation. After some coaxing from Jack, she opted to try the stuffing, and… Damn! Apparently breadcrumbs mixed with celery and onions could be quite delicious. Noted for future reference.
The bedroom was utterly dark when Anna woke in the middle of the night, and yet she could make out every detail of every surface. Crystal had insisted that she take Jack's old bedroom while Jack slept on the couch in the basement. In a way, it was almost like those first weeks here on Earth.
A dresser across from the foot of the bed supported a series of Star Wars figurines, and there were several posters up on the walls. The closet to her left was left open just a touch, and she could sense some of Jack's old clothes hanging there. This place, these old knickknacks from her best friend's childhood, were almost enough to kill the memory of the wretched dream she had suffered through.
Slade.
/> In her dream, she was standing in front of him, watching as he inched closer and closer to the SlipGate. Somehow, despite the fact that he had said nothing to confirm her suspicions, she just knew that he would set off a bomb if she let him escape. So she put a bullet in his chest, and the life-support systems went down.
Anna sat up.
She winced, burying her face in both hands. “Of course I'd have nightmares,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead. “Why should a family gathering do anything to put it out of my mind?”
Anna looked up and blinked the tears out of her eyes. Her throat was dry, and she wasn't going to get any sleep unless she worked the restlessness out of her system. What she needed was a quick walk to stretch her legs.
She got out of the bed.
Dressed in a pair of Crystal's sweat pants and one of Jack's t-shirts, Anna grunted as she paced across the hardwood floor. The layout of the room was there in her mind, and despite the lack of illumination, she could see that the door was half open.
In the hallway, she found a railing that overlooked the stairs to the first floor and caught the sounds of slow, rhythmic breathing from one of the other rooms. Lauren or Steve, perhaps.
Stifling a yawn with her fist, Anna squeezed her eyes shut. Try to put it out of your head, she thought, peering over the railing. The more you obsess about it, the harder it will be to relax.
At the foot of the stairs, Anna could see the front door looking out on the street, a touch of soft amber light coming in through the large rectangular window. There were voices speaking; she could hear them clearly now.
Anna turned down the hallway.
“I can't believe you,” Crystal said in a frenzied whisper that came from the kitchen. “You know we have a guest in our home, and yet you go out of your way to insult her at every opportunity.”
“That woman took my son away from me,” Arthur replied softly. “She made him into something that I don't understand.”
“Don't be stupid, Arthur.”
Anna leaned against the wall with a hand pressed to her stomach, feeling like she'd been carrying a stone on her back. Well, at least we're done with the ambiguity, she thought. No more wondering what the man really thinks.
“Our idiot son agreed to let them put an alien in his body.” The sound of footsteps told her that Arthur was pacing across the room. “Because he was young and naïve and obsessed with that idealistic nonsense you stuff into his brain.”
“You used to believe that idealistic nonsense.”
“Then I grew up.”
Of course you'd think that. How many people try to justify prejudicial views with appeals to their so-called maturity?
“I can't do this anymore, Arthur.”
“Do what?”
“This.” It was just a simple word without a trace of heat in its delivery: a statement so matter-of-fact it might have been delivered by a robot. “The kids are gone now, and we hardly ever speak anymore.”
“So you want out?”
“The man I married actually believed in things.”
“Yeah, well thirty years spent locking up petty offenders has a way of changing a man's perspective. If Jack does this job long enough, he'll change too. Trust me; it's only a matter of time.”
Anna shut her eyes, one small tear rolling over her cheek to drip from her chin. Not if I have anything to say about it, she thought. Companion hear me, I will keep that man's spirit alive.
“Our son has been to space, Arthur. Three years ago, less than a thousandth of a percent of this planet's population could say that. Meeting Anna was the best thing that ever happened to Jack. He has opportunities I would never have dreamed of. But most importantly, she makes him believe.”
“In what?”
“In the idea that what he does matters.”
“Yeah, too bad it came at the cost of everything he is. I mean, the boy has an alien living in his body. Can you even call him human anymore?”
That last one hit Anna hard. Those words…So similar to the ones Alia had used all those years ago. People were people wherever you went. Some would hold on to their old prejudices no matter how hard you tried to pry them free.
A soft wisping announced Crystal's approach, and she emerged from the kitchen a moment later, standing in the hallway in a fluffy pink robe. She shook her head and let out a sigh of frustration.
Turning on her heel, she marched through the narrow hallway and froze when she saw Anna. “Sorry, I didn't know you were there,” she whispered. “How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough,” Anna replied. “I'm sorry.”
“It's all right.”
The woman shuffled past her with slumped shoulders, making her way toward the foot of the stairs. Wood creaking told her that Crystal had gone up to bed. It seemed she had to decide how much she wanted that glass of water, and as it happened, she wanted it quite a bit.
Anna started down the hallway with fists balled at her sides, shaking her head in disgust. Last chance to back out. She stopped in front of the open doorway that led into the kitchen. You do this, and he'll despise you.
A small light over the stove provided just enough illumination for her to see Arthur sitting at the round table with a mug in his hand. He seemed to be staring out the window, lost in thought.
He froze with the cup halfway to his mouth, turning his head when he noticed her presence. “Something I can do for you?” he asked, arching one eyebrow. “Or have you come down here to correct yet another of my mistaken beliefs?”
Anna crossed her arms with a heavy sigh, scowling down at the floor. “Jack is as much your son today as he ever was,” she said, stepping into the kitchen. “But don't ever let him hear the words you spoke tonight. Because if he does, that will be the day that he stops being your son.”
She left him to think on that.
Chapter 18
A small lamp on Melissa's desk bathed the bedroom in a soft, warm glow, providing just enough light for her to move around without tripping over anything. The dresser on her wall had a mirror that reflected her bed and the window behind her, revealing a few swirling snowflakes outside.
The sound of her father's footsteps in the hallway outside left her feeling uneasy. If the last three nights were any indication, she was in for yet another long discussion on the importance of making responsible decisions. Sometimes she wondered if middle-aged parents had simply forgotten what it was like to be young.
Of course, her father had a point. Aaron did have a way of pushing her into things she didn't want to do, and she sometimes gave in just to shut him up, That was a habit she would have to break…And that likely meant breaking up with him.
Someone knocked on her door.
Melissa sat on the edge of the mattress with hands on her knees, her head down in disgrace. Here we go… she thought, ignoring the shiver that ran down her spine. Just stay calm and take it like a woman.
“Melissa?”
She grimaced, trembling for a moment. “Come in,” she said, pressing fingers to her temples. The stress and anxiety were going to leave her with a killer migraine. “You can come in, Dad.”
The door swung open to reveal her father standing in the hallway with his hands in his pockets. Harry refused to look up at her, choosing instead to focus intently on the gray carpet. “Do you want to come to dinner?”
“I think I'd rather be alone.”
“You love Christmas dinner.”
Sucking on her lower lip, Melissa looked up at him. “I do…” she admitted with a curt nod. “But I don't think now is the time for me to be indulging in the things I love. I'll grab some leftovers later.”
Her father wore a small smile as he turned his face up to the ceiling. “Melissa, you don't have to punish yourself forever,” he said. “Come on down. Your sister's here, and I invited Jena.”
With a sigh, she stood up.
Melissa paced across the room, working up the nerve to endure company. Right then, she really wanted to be alone.
“Okay,” she murmured, stopping in front of her father. “But don't expect me to be chatty.”
The narrow hallway outside her room always made her feel a bit claustrophobic, and today was no exception. This time, however, she had to admit that her anxiety was rooted in more than just a lack of elbow room. She felt like a prisoner following a guard down to the execution room.
The thought of facing her sister – of listening to Claire's endless curiosity about what would make her take drugs when she knew the dangers – was gnawing at her. On top of that, there was Jena.
Melissa was hoping to ask the other woman for a letter of recommendation when she finished high school, but there was very little chance of that happening now. Not after she had screwed up so royally.
At the foot of the stairs, she found Jena standing with arms folded, dressed in a pair of black pants and a teal-green shirt with an empire waist. She wore her short auburn hair parted in the middle. “Hey, kid,” she said.
“Hello,” Melissa replied.
“Ready to eat?”
Melissa bowed her head to the other woman. “I guess so,” she said, brushing a strand of hair off her face. “Get Claire settled in, and I'll make sure everything is good to go.”
Her father paused on the very last step, bracing one hand against the wall. “Already taken care of,” he said without turning. “If you'll look to your right, you'll see the dining room table is already set.”
He wasn't kidding.
The long, narrow table had four empty plates sitting on the good placemats – and thank the Lord for that; she wasn't sure she trusted her father to handle things correctly – along with a serving dish full of vegetables, a plate of lean ham and two bowls filled with mashed potatoes and stuffing.
Harry did the cooking in this house, and for one very good reason. Despite what the laws of physics would have you believe, given enough time in front of an oven, Melissa would eventually find a way to burn ice. No…she had no talent for the culinary arts, but she did know how to make company feel welcome. Christmas wasn't a time to be stingy with the nice silverware.
