Fly You To The Moon

by Jocelyn Han

  Nic didn’t say anything for a while. “You’re so much like your dad,” he finally said with a wistful smile. “He never believed in class segregation.”

  “And you do?” she challenged him.

  Nic raised an eyebrow. “Would I be running this farm if I did?”

  “Yes, you would. You might be helping the commoners thinking you’re superior to them in some way.”

  Her words made him stare at her silently. “Alleviating my feelings of guilt, huh?” he finally mumbled.

  “Well.” She cleared her throat. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Nicolas took a step toward her, resting his hand on her shoulder. “You’re too wise for your age, you know that?” he said, sounding a bit uncomfortable.

  She smirked. “Nothing you can’t handle, I bet,” she replied playfully. “Having second thoughts about being my guardian?”

  “No,” he immediately reassured her. “I’m very happy you’re here. Already my house feels so much more alive.”

  Ava tried not to blush. “Well, thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You should.” Nic held her gaze for a few more seconds, then he let go of her shoulder and looked around the room once more. “Well, have fun making this your own place. I’ll see you downstairs for dinner.” He obviously wanted to give her some time to settle in and be on her own. “Feel free to come to the kitchen sooner, though, if you want.”

  When the door closed behind her, Ava flopped down on the bed. The mattress was far more comfortable than she was used to. The sheets on the bed were probably satin. Absently, she ran a hand over the fabric, staring up at the ceiling of the strange house she’d be living in for a while. For a second, she felt like a traitor for actually enjoying the softness of the bed, the feel of the smooth fabric under her hands.

  Her father had taught her things about the history of Earth that weren’t in any approved textbook. The mid-twenty-first century population of Earth had faced one ecological disaster after the other. A select group of rich people had taken precautions, fleeing to underground shelters or fortified caves high up in the mountains before typhoons and tsunamis wiped out most of Earth’s population in the span of one single week. These wealthy survivors were the only ones who’d managed to preserve digital records of mankind’s accomplishments, including scientific research conducted in the decades before the Doomsday Disaster. It had prompted them to proclaim themselves new rulers of the Earth. And this Elite had gone on to form new alliances, create new countries, and fight brutal wars. Additionally, they’d practically enslaved the poor survivors of the not-so-fortunate common people of the Earth before racing out to conquer and terraform other habitable planets in the solar system.

  Of course, the Elitists claimed they had always been rich and powerful. Nobody was supposed to know they’d built a new world on ashes speaking of the misery and exploitation of their fellow man. But some people knew – including Ava.

  She heaved a deep sigh before digging up her pad to text her friend back. ‘hey georgie. guess what, i live in a mansion now. or actually, a sort of teaching farm. oh, and FYI – uncle nic = sex on legs & only 32 yrs old. i’m in trouble!!’

  It took her friend all but one minute to call her. Georgie’s face appeared on screen, her almond-shaped eyes and dark hair standing out against a backdrop of white bathroom tiles. She was abusing the wireless comm network in her boss’s office again. “Your uncle is that young?” she cried out, her voice shrill. “I thought you said he was old.”

  “Yeah, well, I was wrong. He’s thirty-two, a bachelor, and I could totally fall for him.”

  “Wow.” Georgie gaped at her in consternation. “You think your dad wanted to set you guys up?”

  “Ha-ha,” Ava replied sourly. “Wishful thinking. Besides, my dad wasn’t big on arranged marriages.”

  “Obviously.”

  Ava clamped her mouth shut when someone knocked at the door. Crap – had the person outside heard what she’d said about Nicolas? “Come in,” she said a bit unevenly.

  A blond servant with a big moustache and a friendly smile stepped inside, carrying her two suitcases. “Here you go, Miss,” he said. “You travel light.”

  Ava smiled. “Well, I have a trunk full of books arriving later this week, so I hope you’ll have your day off then.”

  Once Danny had left, Ava turned back to her friend. “I’m going to unpack. Talk to you later?”

  “Yes, we’ll talk soon. Keep me in the loop.” Georgie winked at her before signing off.

  Ava massaged her forehead for a few seconds, rubbing a hand over her face. Actually, Nicolas’s behavior threw her for a loop. He seemed to like her. Really like her – not just as his niece. But at the same time, he was trying to keep his distance.

  ‘You can pick who you want,’ he’d said about her choice of partner.

  Was there any chance she could pick him, too?

  4.

  Her stomach was rumbling by the time Ava went downstairs. After exploring the first floor for a while, popping in and out of different rooms, she wandered into the kitchen. The delicious scent of spices and grilled meat filled the room.

  “Wow, that smells good,” she said, walking over to Mrs. Pipps and Nicolas, who were busy cutting vegetables at the kitchen top. A pang went through her heart. Her dad had also loved cooking, and seeing her half-uncle working on a meal like the next common servant was too much like home, all of a sudden.

  Nic glanced up. “Well, when you’re hungry, everything smells good,” he joked.

  “Don’t dismiss your culinary skills like that.” Ava smiled. “I’m not starved yet. So, what are we having?”

  “Pumpkin stew, stir-fried eggplant and grilled turkey,” Mrs. Pipps replied. “Your uncle invited some people over tonight from the city so they could meet you, so we’re cooking a feast.”

  “Oh.” Ava cringed a little. “Who’s coming?”

  “Don’t look so scared,” he replied, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Just some friends of mine. Oh, and my parents.”

  Great. She’d be held up for inspection in front of the oldest members of the Carter family. “Well, what should I wear?” she panicked. “I don’t have any Elite clothes. Not really.”

  Nicolas waved away her objection. “Wear anything you like,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll look dashing. But if you want a second opinion before making your appearance, I’ll come up to your bedroom and give you my verdict first. Okay?”

  “Yes. I’d like that,” she mumbled.

  When Ava looked away, she caught Mrs. Pipps observing the two of them with a tiny frown between her eyebrows. What was the housekeeper thinking?

  “Here, let me help you with that,” she offered, picking up some eggplant and a sharp knife before turning away to grab another cutting board.

  Just as Nicolas fired up the stove to stir-fry the vegetables, two little children burst into the kitchen, laughing and screaming, darting toward Mrs. Pipps.

  “Tom! Patty!” she scolded them. “What have I told you about running in the kitchen?”

  “Sorry, mom,” they both said in unison.

  Margaret hugged them before ushering them out of the room. “So, how was school today?” Ava heard her say, just before the door swung shut.

  Silence descended in the kitchen, only interrupted by the hissing of the frying oil Nic was pouring into the pan. Ava turned around and their gazes collided, locking for just a few seconds too long for the silence to be completely comfortable.

  “So.” He cleared his throat. “What do you think of your new home so far?”

  “It’s very different from what I was expecting,” she replied truthfully.

  Nicolas nodded. “What were you expecting?”

  Ava looked down at her cutting board. “Honestly?”

  “Yes, honestly.”

  “I thought I’d hate it here.” She watched as Nicolas took a few steps toward her, his eyes filling with worry. Sof
tly, he put his hand on her arm, gently squeezing it.

  “But I don’t,” she quickly continued. “Your house reminds me of home. And I imagined you to be some kind of old, Elite prick, but you’re actually quite decent.”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “Well, thanks. I’m flattered.”

  She grinned. “You told me to be honest, right?”

  Nicolas bit back a laugh. “There’s a fine line between honesty and cruelty, you know.”

  “True.” Ava looked up at him, the warmness of his hand on her arm seeping through her shirt. Once again, she realized Nic seemed to have a hard time stepping away from her once he was close. His proximity felt safe and dangerous to her at the same time.

  “Why, uhm, don’t I get changed upstairs? You still need to finish up here. I have no idea if Margaret is coming back any time soon.” She took a step back, his hand slipping away.

  Nicolas blinked as if shaken from a trance. “Yeah. You do that. I’ll drop by later.”

  Ava whipped around and left the kitchen, only to bump into Margaret Pipps on the stairs. “Your children are adorable,” she said with a smile. “How old are they?”

  “They’re both eight,” Mrs. Pipps replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “And they’re a handful. Twins are always more work.”

  “I bet.” Ava jabbed a thumb at her room. “Well, I’m going to change into something more appropriate. Though I don’t really know what, frankly.”

  Margaret pensively tapped her chin. “I have a few old dresses that might fit you,” she said. “God knows I don’t fit them anymore, but I couldn’t bear to part from them because they’re so pretty.”

  “They’re not too formal, are they?” Ava asked with a hint of trepidation.

  The housekeeper laughed out loud. “I wouldn’t want to be caught dead in standard-issue Elite garments. I’ll have you know I have more pride than that. Follow me.”

  Ava trudged up the stairs and trailed behind Mrs. Pipps, who turned right and entered her room. She liked the woman – back on Earth, the commoners working for Elite families were always the toadying, subservient types, but this whole household seemed to be a different kind of animal.

  “Is Nicolas a good boss to work for?” she asked, taking in the spacious living quarters they’d just entered. It was clear the entire Pipps family lived here. There were several more doors leading to separate bedrooms and a private bathroom.

  Mrs. Pipps made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “As you can see,” she answered. “Mr. Carter lets us live on his estate, and he tries to cater to any reasonable request Danny and I might have. Our children are happy here.” She paused, staring at the floor. “I wouldn’t be able to work for any other Elitist. He’s different from the rest. It’s just – I wish he could be happier himself.”

  Ava frowned. “He’s not happy?”

  “Oh, he tries very carefully to find a balance between living the Elite lifestyle and making his parents proud on one hand, and holding up his ideals on the other. That’s not an easy path.”

  “Does he look down on you?” Ava wondered aloud. “I get the feeling he pities the commoners mostly.”

  Margaret shrugged. “Not consciously. He doesn’t know that sympathy can hurt at times.” She walked over to a large wardrobe in the corner of the room. “Oh, well. Let me get you those dresses. Take them all and try them on. I hope they fit you.”

  “I’m sure they will. “ Ava had lost quite a few pounds since her father’s death and the whole ordeal of coming here. In fact, most of her clothes were too wide right now.

  Once in her room, she selected a dark-green, velvet dress from the pile that had caught her eye the instant Mrs. Pipps had handed them over. Green was the color of freedom, of nature, of rebellion. Elitists always wore suits and dresses of navy blue and black, or white on special occasions. This was a commoner’s dress, worn by someone who wanted to make a statement. Mrs. Pipps had to be more of a rebel than she’d seemed at first glance.

  Ava tried it on, staring at herself in the mirror in surprise. This wasn’t just a rebellious dress – it was a sexy dress, in a modest kind of way. The figure-hugging material accentuated her round breasts and curvy hips without revealing too much. Even though she was a lot skinnier than before, this dress made her look all woman.

  Reaching for the zipper, Ava struggled to close the dress from behind. She grunted as it became clear it wasn’t working. Just as she was about to run over to Margaret’s room and ask for her help, the bedroom door swung open and Nicolas peeked inside.

  She froze, her skin tingling as his eyes swept up and down her body. He closed the door behind him. “Wow,” he mumbled. His mouth twitched, showing the ghost of an almost flirtatious smile. “That’s – you look stunning, Ava.”

  “Don’t I look too, uhm, defiant?” she mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

  He shook his head. “You look like you,” he said. “And that fits you best.”

  “Thanks.” She couldn’t help but smile back. Nicolas was more than just decent – he was a wonderful guy. No wonder her dad had gotten along with him so well.

  “So, are you coming?” he wanted to know.

  “No, I’m not ready yet.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t reach the zipper. Margaret should come and help me.”

  “Well, I can do you up,” he offered.

  Ava swallowed. Before she could respond, Nic bridged the gap between them in two long strides.

  “Okay.” She turned her back toward him, her eyes alighting on the two of them reflected in the oval mirror on her dressing table. His fingers gingerly touched the skin of her back as he pulled the fabric together and slowly zipped up the dress. “Exhale,” he mumbled teasingly as he reached the part where her breasts made the dress fit tighter.

  When she looked at him in the mirror, he stared back, his eyes drinking in her shape in the green outfit. Nic’s fingers brushed the skin of her neck when he closed the last few inches of the zipper. “There,” he said, his voice a bit rough. “Done.”

  “Thanks,” Ava murmured, dropping her gaze to the floor. He shouldn’t see her blush. If she stared at the carpet hard enough, maybe he wouldn’t notice how flustered she looked.

  Nic didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled away his hand before turning around, the sound of his footsteps beating a hasty retreat. Ava let out a shaky breath when she heard the door fall shut.

  Her words to Georgie about Nicolas had been spot-on. She really was in trouble.

  5.

  Despite Nicolas’s encouraging words about just being herself being best, Ava didn’t feel up to entering the evening parlor all by herself. She lingered on the landing outside her room, waiting for the Pipps family to emerge from their room. It didn’t take long for Tom and Patty to appear, both dressed up in simple but neat brown clothes.

  “Hi,” Patty said, beaming up at Ava. “You’re the girl from Earth.”

  Ava grinned. “I am. And you’re the girl from Luna.”

  “Are you going to live here with us from now on?” Tom asked curiously.

  “Well, for a while,” Ava replied. “Shall we go downstairs?”

  “Yes, we should,” Patty said, her young face all serious. “We shouldn’t keep the guests waiting. That’s what mom always says.”

  As they all descended the stairs, Ava pondered Tom’s question. What would she do once her time here in Luna Six was up? Did she want to move back into the house that reminded her of her dead father and her old life, or did she want to start all over, in a new place? Maybe she could set up a farm in Sutton, just like Nicolas had done here, and teach people how to get the most out of tilling the soil.

  All thoughts about Earth evaporated from her mind when Ava stepped into the dinner room and was greeted by a large group of official-looking people sitting at the table. Her palms turned sweaty when she saw all the blue and black suits and dresses. Why had she chosen to wear this outfit again? She was sticking out like a sore thumb in this crowd. Nicolas should have sto
pped her from showing up in this dress.

  Ava smiled feebly when Nicolas got to his feet and pulled her toward the head of the table. “Ava, this is your grandmother Olivia,” he introduced his mother to her. “Mother, meet Ava, Colin’s only daughter.”

  Olivia Carter’s green eyes narrowed when she looked up at her granddaughter. “Avaleria,” she nodded icily, using Ava’s full name. “Well. My condolences. Colin was still very young. I guess a common life on Earth was too hard on him.”

  Ava clenched her fists. Actually, his parents punishing him for his choice of partner had been the hardest on her dad. “I guess,” she echoed. “You must be sad your son died and you missed the funeral.”

  Olivia’s eyes hardened. “He was not really my son anymore. You know that.”

  “Oh, right. The whole disowned-because-of-scandal thing. How could I forget?”

  “And this is my dad,” Nicolas quickly interjected before the situation would get out of hand. “Alistair Carter.”

  Old Mr. Carter gave her an equally cold welcome. Nic pulled her along and introduced her to some other Elite friends of his. One of them, a brown-haired woman with a scandalously low cleavage, smiled insincerely up at her. “Welcome, dear. My name is Clea. It’s so noble of my Nicolas to take care of you and take in his niece for the time being.”

  Ava shot the woman a skeptic look. Her Nicolas? Whatever happened to Nic not being ready to settle down yet? Either this woman was too big-headed for her own good or Nicolas was a big, fat liar. “Nice to meet you,” she mumbled, equally hypocritical.

  When she finally sat down at the end of the table where Nic’s personnel was seated, she felt as if she’d been forced to run the gauntlet twice. All these people were cold, cruel and horrible – there were no other words for it.

  “Don’t let them get to you,” the young man to her right mumbled softly. “This is the one and only time you’ll have to see the Carters.”

  Ava turned her head to look at the blond man sitting next to her. “How do you know?”