by J. Judkins
“Okay,” Angel said at last.
Kim was about to call her on it when she heard a knock at the front door. She pulled it open, stepped back, and her father walked in with an easy grin. Kim found herself swept up into a hug that lifted her off her feet.
“Hi, Dad,” Kim laughed.
His eyes drifted to Angel. “Who’s your friend?”
Kim took a moment, smoothing down her clothes while she gathered her courage. Here we go. “Angel, this is my father, George Rowland. Dad, this is Angel.”
George stuck out a hand. “Hello, Angel. Nice to meet you.”
“Thank you.” Angel returned the handshake.
“Kimberly never mentioned a roommate.”
The small talk began in earnest. Kim let it all wash over her, doing her best to keep calm, but ready to intervene at a moment’s notice.
Everything is going according to plan. Any second now, Dad will start asking specific, personal questions. He won’t be able to help himself.
“How long have you been staying here?” George asked.
“I’ve been living with Kim for quite a while now,” Angel said.
Kim held her breath. Any second now, the questions will become invasive. It’s only a matter of time. Stick to the plan. Tell him nothing, then “admit” we’re dating. That will be enough to keep him satisfied. He’ll never know the details.
Any second now.
Any second now.
“Where have you been sleeping? On the couch?”
“For several nights,” Angel confirmed.
Kim fidgeted in place. What was taking him so long?
“Not very comfortable, is it?” He grinned.
“I’ve discovered this, as well.”
“Angel and I are in a relationship!” Kim blurted.
All conversation ceased. George and Angel turned to look at Kim with identical open-mouthed expressions of surprise.
Kim quelled her rising panic. All was calm. The situation was still manageable. She’d anticipated this and planned on it. Dad expected her to be hiding something, and she’d only given away that the relationship existed. It didn’t matter that she’d skipped step one and two and gone directly to step three. No big loss. She was still on schedule.
Angel’s face was beaming. Her reaching hand found Kim’s. “Thank you for that,” she said.
“For what?”
“For finding the courage.”
Kim pulled her hand back. “I told you before. I wasn’t avoiding it because I’m shy.”
George went from surprise to open doubt. “You?” he scoffed. “You’re in a relationship?”
“That’s right. Angel and I are dating.”
Her father looked about the room, as if suddenly not at all certain if he were in the right condo. “You?” he asked again.
“You don’t have to act so surprised about it,” Kim said with a huff, drawing strength from her irritation.
“Exactly how serious is this relationship of yours?”
Kim hid her smile. There it was. Her father had finally fallen into her verbal trap. This was the key moment she’d been planning on. Feed him slivers of information. Downplay the issue. Don’t overplay your hand. “Oh, it’s not as serious as all that.”
George held up his hands. “Okay. Fine. Doesn’t matter.”
“We’ve gone on a few dates,” she said, irritated at being so casually dismissed. Doesn’t matter? What’s that supposed to mean?
“I get it.”
Kim clenched her jaw. She could tell her father was doing his best to avoid a potentially embarrassing subject. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I had good reasons to take her home.”
“No need to explain.” George took a step back. “Really. That’s enough.”
“Angel didn’t have a place to stay.”
“Again, perfectly understandable.”
Kim burned with frustration. This wasn’t fair! She’d gone out of her way to give the impression that she and Angel were dating and nothing else, but despite her efforts, Dad had still automatically assumed she and Angel were sleeping together. That hadn’t been what she’d been denying at all!
“Listen, Dad, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not denying having sex with Angel; I’m denying it was serious. Wait . . .”
“You don’t have to explain a thing. Believe me, I get it.”
Angel drew her hands to her chest. “Please, don’t misunderstand. Kim and I are dating. Our relationship isn’t unusual in any way. What she’s told you is entirely true. When I first slept with your daughter, it was with the intention of sleeping with her in the classic sense, and nothing more.”
“Oh, thank you so much for clearing that up!” Kim snapped.
“You’re welcome.”
“I don’t care about . . . details,” George rasped. “Why are you telling me this?”
“What do you mean?” blustered Kim, who had a very good idea. “What details? I don’t know what you’re implying. An ordinary relationship doesn’t imply constant . . . you know.”
“That’s true,” Angel confirmed. “We take occasional breaks.”
“I don’t want to hear this.” Kim’s father seemed on the verge of physical pain. His eyes cast about as if looking for an exit.
“It isn’t as if I was planning on sleeping with her when I invited her home!”
Angel nodded in agreement. “It took a bit of time.”
“Stop helping me,” Kim hissed. That “follow my lead” advice? Worst. Idea. Ever.
“It doesn’t matter, Kimberly,” George sighed. “You’re an adult, and old enough to make your own decisions. I’m not upset with you.” The old couch creaked slightly as he sat down. “Have you told your mother yet?”
“No. Not yet. Why would I? I keep telling you, it isn’t that serious. No immediate plans to get married, if that’s what you mean.”
“Kim, I think you’re still laboring under a misconception,” Angel said. “I never asked you to marry me.”
Kim bristled at Angel’s words. “It’s tradition to ask the person first. They might say no.”
“I never asked you, Kim.”
“So it’s a foregone conclusion? I thought you were going to leave it up to me to decide.”
“That was my intention.”
“Then leave it up to me! On the day I want to get married, I’ll ask you.”
Angel’s expression darkened. “I was hoping you’d allow me longer than a single day to prepare.”
“What?”
“To clarify, I believe you’re still under the assumption that I want this. That I’m biding my time, content to wait. This simply isn’t true.”
“Well, you’re going to have to wait. I’m not ready to get married to you, Angel.”
“I never said it needs to be today.”
“Don’t you get it? I’ll ask you first. We won’t be getting married on the same day.”
Angel’s scowl deepened. “You said you would.”
“What? When did I say that?”
“Just now,” Angel said, then spoke in a perfect mimicry of Kim’s voice. “‘On the day I want to get married, I’ll ask you,’” she quoted.
George whistled in appreciation. “That’s a pretty good impression you’ve got there!”
Kim’s widened eyes were the only outward sign of her internal shock. “Oh, that’s nothing,” she laughed, waving a hand in dismissal. “Angel’s really good with her tongue.”
There was a sudden, awkward silence.
Kim’s face began to simmer and burn. It took several unsuccessful attempts before she could speak coherently in even a limited fashion. “I mean, Angel’s really skilled with her tongue. As in, Angel is skilled with impressions. She’s good with impressions. Oh, God . . .”
George focused all his attention on the end table next to him, seemingly in the vain hope it could somehow burn away the last few seconds of his life. “I really, truly, honestly did not want to hear that.”
His eyes
fell upon the alien device. “What’s this?”
The sight spurred Kim into action like nothing else could. “Don’t touch that!” she shrieked.
Time seemed to slow as her father’s hand hovered over the device.
Kim knew her father was waiting for an explanation, but she felt paralyzed. All she could do was stare back in gibbering horror. The device was clearly extraterrestrial. How could she possibly explain it away?
George picked up the device—
“It’s a sex toy!” Kim exclaimed.
—and dropped it again as if it had suddenly caught fire.
Kim snatched up the offending device before it could roll to a stop, then sprinted to her bedroom, threw it in, and slammed the door after it.
Only Angel seemed immune to the awkwardness of the situation as Kim reluctantly returned to the living room.
“So!” George clapped his hands together. “Anyone for dinner?”
Chapter Twelve
George Rowland took Kim and Angel to a local steakhouse in his four-door Ford F-150, a vehicle spacious enough to seat more than twice their number. He’d purchased it for comfort, safety, cargo efficiency, and to annoy the hell out of his environmentalist friends with its low fuel-efficiency, gas-guzzling reputation.
Although it was a Friday night, the restaurant wasn’t crowded. The city had expanded westward since the building’s construction fifty years ago. Its location was no longer ideally suited for attracting new customers.
A young man with a bright smile and tired eyes met them at the door. He guided them to a nearby booth. All about them were the sounds of quiet conversation and the occasional soft clinking of silverware.
Kim and Angel took one side, while George sat across from them on the other. All three ordered steak with a wide variety of side orders.
When Kim’s plate arrived, she held up an onion ring and waited until she’d caught Angel’s full attention. “Look, sir, droids.”
Angel gave her a blank look.
“It’s from Star Wars.”
“I see,” Angel said, who clearly did not.
Kim’s shoulders slumped. “Do I really need to explain it to you?”
Angel reached out and took the onion ring. Her expression didn’t change.
“Forget it, Angel.”
“You’re disappointed?”
“I get that the reference might be obscure, but it’s not that obscure. I thought you’d catch it.” She sighed again, this time more dramatically. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Please, tell me—”
“I said, don’t worry about it.”
Angel fell silent.
George seemed content to ignore the exchange, busying himself with his food. His French fries had apparently not been served with nearly enough salt, and so he spent several long seconds correcting that deficiency. “Tell me, Angel, what do you do for a living?”
“I used to be a tourist,” Angel said. “Now, I’m in investigation.”
“That sounds interesting. Investigating what?”
Angel glanced at Kim. The two shared a moment of eye contact.
When it became clear that Angel had no intention of answering, George rescinded the question. “It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me. How long have the two of you . . . ?” One hand rose and fell.
Angel tilted her head slightly. “How long have we . . . what? Been intimate?”
“Angel!” Kim gasped.
Angel looked from Kim to George and back again. “I’m sorry, I was under the impression we’d moved past the employment questions and had proceeded into questions of a more personal matter.”
Kim glared murderously at her plate in an attempt to glare at Angel without it being blatantly obvious. “I quit my old job to try this one. Angel and I haven’t been doing it for very long.”
“I see.” George nodded.
“The job, I mean.” Kim’s face burned slightly. “We were both hired at the same time, and haven’t been doing the job for long.”
“It’s a question I might have wanted to know,” Angel grumbled.
George cut off a small portion of steak, taking great pains to avoid making eye contact. “Is that how the two of you met? At this job?” he asked.
Kim took a long drink of water to cover her silence.
“It can’t have been too long ago,” her father pressed.
“We met before the job,” Kim answered, hoping he would change the topic.
George looked to Angel, instead.
“It seems like only yesterday to me,” Angel mused, “but I’ll defer to Kim’s assessment. She’s a much better judge of time than I am.”
The remark prompted a raised eyebrow. “A better judge of time?”
Kim did her best not to wince. Angel’s sense of time was comparable to that of a fast-moving clock. For her, time seemed to pass much more quickly than it did in reality. “Angel’s still not used to local time zones,” she lied.
“As in, what? She’s jet-lagged?”
“In a way. Sort of. It’s hard to explain.”
George absently stirred at his mashed potatoes. “If you’d rather not tell me—”
“If you look at it in a certain way, we got the job because Angel’s father hired us,” Kim offered.
Angel’s eyes narrowed. “Please, never refer to Dr. Harrison as my father again.”
Kim blanched. She’d known it was a sore spot with Angel. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“There’s no need to apologize, Kim. I concede your point.” Angel waved a hand, as if the matter were already forgotten. “I suppose I’ll never be entirely free of him. There are legal matters to consider, after all.”
“Legal matters?” George asked.
“It’s an out-of-country thing,” Kim lied. She had never accepted Harrison’s claim to be the closest thing Angel had to a living relative, but she couldn’t deny the two of them shared a history.
“I hadn’t realized you weren’t from America. You don’t have an accent,” George said. “What country are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Why?” Angel latched on to the only part of the question that interested her. “Are you suggesting a foreign accent is important? Is it necessary?”
“Err . . . no. Not having an accent is fine.”
“To answer your previous question, Dr. Harrison might be necessary for legal purposes. I’m hoping to start receiving my own paycheck in the near future.”
“Hold on,” Kim said, “you’re still worried about that? I thought you didn’t mind sharing my name.”
“I’m sharing your name?” Angel seemed surprised by this revelation. “When was this?”
“You remember the bank account I set up for you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Technically, that bank account still belongs to me,” Kim said. “I added your name, and we’re calling it yours, but I’m the one responsible for it.”
Her father went still. “You’re sharing a bank account with Angel, and you still claim it isn’t serious?”
This was yet another untouchable subject. Angel had once embraced a unique form of vigilante tourism to generate income. Kim had set up the bank account to offer her a peaceful alternative, hoping to keep her closer to home. It wasn’t something she could discuss.
“Angel’s special. I trust her,” Kim said.
“Have you considered all the legal ramifications of what you’re doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Typical of the younger generation,” George said, with a stern look of disapproval. “You think you’re somehow entitled. You want all the perks of a marriage, but care nothing of the responsibility.”
“Hold on a second.” Kim waved her fork, irritated. “The bank account with Angel wasn’t set up as some sort of lame cohabitation agreement—”
“And that’s the part that worries me,” George said. “I didn’t help finance your condominium so you could play house with your new
girlfriend.”
“That isn’t what we’re doing.”
He held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t disapprove of the two of you being together, if that’s what you want. That’s not why I’m upset.” He pushed away his plate. “I’m upset because both of you are treating this far too casually. Dating is perfectly fine, but if the two of you are serious, then I think it’s past time both of you started taking responsibility.”
“I understand your arguments for stability,” Angel said, “but I respectfully disagree with your conclusions. Kim shouldn’t be compelled to marry me against her will. The matter should be left up to her.”
A slight smile touched Kim’s lips and she nodded in agreement, relieved to be taken off the hook. “Thank you, Angel.”
“What happened with Kim wasn’t her fault,” Angel continued. “Your daughter couldn’t resist me. It was inevitable that our relationship would evolve into a satisfying, pleasurable, intimate—”
Kim jabbed Angel in the ribs. Hard.
“Again, I didn’t need to hear that,” George muttered under his breath.
“Then you agree?” Angel asked.
He focused on Kim. “Look, Kim, I’m not trying to pressure you.”
“Well, it certainly sounds like pressure to me,” Kim shot back. “What kind of a choice is that? Either I agree to marry Angel on the spot, in which case you’ll generously and graciously allow her to stay, or I refuse, and she has to leave? That isn’t a choice. It’s an ultimatum.”
“I told you before, Kimberly. Dating Angel is fine. I’m only asking for you to stop living together until you finally do get around to making a decision.”
“Angel doesn’t have a place to stay.”
“Then perhaps she should find one.”
“You can’t order her to leave,” Kim repeated, a hint of steel in her voice.
“I most certainly can! I helped finance that condominium you live in. The only reason you have it at all is because of me.”
“You’ve never done anything like this before,” Kim protested.
“You’ve never given me a reason before,” her father shot back.
“That’s financial blackmail.”
