Universal Alien (4 page)

“T
HINK WE'RE UP TO THE ZOO TODAY?”
Charles asked as we enjoyed our snuggle time.

“No idea. Jet lag seems to get worse each trip, instead of better.”

“And it doesn't help that we had to come back to the States earlier than normal, either, I know. And I'm sorry.”

I hugged him. “It's not your fault. Well, I mean, it is because you're the smartest guy in every room, and government think tanks tend to get reliant on people like you. But otherwise, I know you'd rather be in Oz right now. In the nice weather.”

He chuckled. “True enough. But, we'll make the most of our extra time here, I promise. Maybe we should see if there's decent snow still on the slopes up north and go skiing.”

“While that sounds great, I don't want to get into the jet again for at least a week. A long car trip would be an even worse idea. And considering how cranky everyone's been these past two days, you and me included, I'm kind of hoping everyone sleeps in today in a big way.”

No sooner wished for than denied. There was a soft knock at our door. Charles pulled the covers over us. “Come in.”

Peter stuck his head in. “So sorry to interrupt, darlings, but the little ones are up and bounding and I don't know how long I can keep them entertained and quiet. Emphasis on quiet. Even with your father's help, Kitty, I might add. Jetlag has officially worn off the entire family.”

“Is James up?”

“Yes, he is. However, he's doing the market run for me this morning so we can all actually have, well, brunch by the time all the adults are truly up and ready for it. Your father and I have already entertained the children to the extent of our copious abilities while only allowing them a scrap of bread and sip of water so they'll still eat with the rest of us. Hence why they're past impatient to get to the two of you.”

“We'll be ready in about five minutes,” Charles said. Peter nodded and closed the door. Charles pulled his pajama pants on and helped me with the nightie, then settled the pillows on the bed so we could sit up against them comfortably. “Ready for the onslaught?”

“Always.” I snuggled next to him. “Especially when you prep me like you just did.”

He grinned. “It's one of my favorite things.” The door opened and three blond heads bobbed into view. “And here are the rest of my favorite things.”

“Daddy! Mommy! Get up! Get up!” Max shouted as he jumped onto the bed with us. He might have been our second child, but he tended to lead. “We took a vote and everyone wants to go to the zoo today!”

Charlie clambered up. “Not quite everyone. Uncle Peter says we need to wear lots of sunscreen even though it's cold outside. Grandpa Sol says we just need to wear hats.” He reached down and helped his little sister up. “What do you think, Daddy?”

“I think you'll want to do what your mother says,” Charles replied as he put Jamie onto his lap. “What do you think, Jamie-Kat?” Everyone felt Jamie looked exactly like me. Couldn't argue, but I knew I'd smiled a lot more at her age. Maybe we just didn't smile enough at her.

Jamie didn't answer, just leaned her head into his chest.

Max burrowed in between us, back against the pillows. Max was a real blend of the two of us—my eyes, chin and body structure, Charles' everything else. Per his father, and mine, he had all my personality, though.

Charlie sat between us, facing us, legs crossed. He looked just like Charles to me—same eyes, wiry build, facial structure, and personality—which was a nice stroke of luck, since he was named for his father. I recognized his Serious Face expression—I'd seen it on his father's face since we were both thirteen. “Jamie doesn't want to go.”

“Did she say that?” I tried not to sound hopeful.

He shook his head. “But I can tell.”

“Me too,” Max said. “She wants to stay home.”

I chucked Jamie under her chin. “I know you want to watch your mirrors, Jamie-Kat. But the animals will miss you if you don't go see them.”

She shook her head. “Bad things are going to happen.”

Jamie rarely spoke. But the few times she did, she spoke perfectly, as if she was a much older child. However, she never spoke to share fun, happy, or loving things. It was always to tell us something bad was going to happen. So far as we could tell, she'd only been right a couple of times. But those times had been devastating.

Charles hugged her. “Bad things happen all the time. But they're not going to happen to us today.”

Before he could say anything else, Jamie sat up straight, then clambered off the bed and trotted out of the room. I tried not to notice that Jamie hadn't waited for or asked for a kiss from either one of us. That she'd let Charles hold her this morning was good enough.

The rest of us looked at each other. “I love her, but she's weird, Mommy,” Max said finally.

Charlie shot a disapproving look at his younger brother. “She's our sister, no matter what. Besides, it's probably just that Uncle James is back.” It probably was. Somehow, Jamie always knew when James was near.

Max shrugged. “I know.” He hugged me. “It's okay, Mommy.”

Charlie crawled over and hugged me, too. “Yeah, it'll be okay, Mommy. I promise.”

“Wow, I guess I'm not doing a good job of not showing the two of you that I'm worried about your sister.”

Charles hugged all of us. “We're all worried. But we'll fix her, or keep her safe, or do whatever we have to to keep our family safe and make it all right, right?”

“Right,” the rest of us said in unison. Then the boys both laughed and shouted, “Jinx!” And, as kids will, kept on shouting jinx at each other as they got off the bed and left our room.

“Ready for a shower?” Charles asked me. I nodded and he laughed. “I won't pinch you if you break the jinx.”

“Awww, you spoilsport.” Sighed. “I didn't mean to let the boys know how worried I am. I just wish Jamie was . . .”

Charles put his arm around my shoulders and hugged me. “It's okay, baby. She loves us. She's just . . . slower with some things.”

“Right. We'll see what the doctors here think. D.C. has really good doctors.”

“Yes.” He kissed my head. “Let's get cleaned up and ready to face the day.”

“I wish I knew why she wanted that mirror so much more than she wants us.” I hadn't meant to say this aloud. But sometimes the words slipped out.

We didn't talk about what was wrong with Jamie much, because it made Charles defensive for reasons I didn't understand and that meant we would fight, even though I hadn't meant to start a fight. We only really fought about Jamie, and never because we weren't in agreement for what to do—because we both had no idea—but because we were both so worried about her.

But this didn't seem to upset him. “Well, maybe she just wants to look at the prettiest girl in the world all the time.” He stroked my cheek. “I know I do. All the time.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Yeah? Will it get me lucky in the shower?”

“Scrub my back and you can have me any way you want me.”

He grinned. “Never let it be said that I don't take advantage of the best deals offered.”

S
HOWERED AND DRESSED,
we headed downstairs. While I adored living in Australia and missed all our friends there the moment we got onto the jet to leave, I loved our home in D.C., too.

Charles and I had grown up in Phoenix, and I'd always figured that's where we'd live and raise our family. But life had led elsewhere. We spent half the year in Australia and half in the U.S., and we'd had to settle on the East Coast for Charles' job at the think tank. So all of us—Dad, Peter, and James included—had dual citizenship. Charles said that it was worth paying extra taxes if that meant cutting down on the hassles of inter-country travel and living.

Fortunately, we had plenty of money. Charles was a self-made multi-millionaire several times over, both in business and in the stock market. So we lived well, albeit not lavishly.

We probably could have lived in a ritzier neighborhood, but I'd fallen in love with Colonial Village the first time I'd seen it. Back then, just as now, it was beautiful—streets lined with incredibly well-maintained, gorgeous homes and beautiful, mature landscapes, butted up against Rock Creek Park. The neighborhood was safe, the people who lived in it pleasant and friendly, and I could honestly say that when we arrived, every time, it was truly like coming home.

My dad, James, and the kids were all in the dining room by the time we got downstairs. Dad came over and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Feeling a little better today, kitten?” he asked me quietly.

“Yeah, I think we all are. How are you doing?”

He hugged me. “As well as always.”

“Sol's complaining that I'm hogging the kids,” James said. He was still the handsomest man I'd ever seen, even handsomer than Charles. Which explained why he was the top male fashion model in the world. Jamie was snuggled in his lap and the boys were hanging off of him. James flashed us his cover boy grin. “Oh, and, morning, you two. We were all wondering if you were going to sleep forever.”

“We were, but then we realized that you're a diva and would demand we witness you stealing our children's affections,” Charles said with a grin.

“Again,” I added.

“And to think I gave you control of my career.” James shook his head. “It's a miracle I can afford to eat.”

“And we force you to live with us, too, don't forget that,” I added. “Because we want to make sure you're going to pay for the kids' educations. They love you best after all.”

“It's all I have,” James said dramatically, while the boys giggled. “If not for the love of the children, I'd be cast aside until you needed me.”

Peter snorted as he wheeled in the large serving cart. “Yes, Jimmy, you're suffering so. My darlings, take your seats. Breakfast is served.”

Charlie and Max went to their seats, Dad picked Jamie up and put her into her chair between him and James, while Charles helped me into my chair and then sat beside me. I sniffed. “Peter, that smells amazing.”

“Just a little eggs Benedict made in our family's unique style for the adults, and scrambled eggs with lox and chives for our precious little ones.” Our family's special eggs Benedict addition was lox. We all loved lox. And Peter's hollandaise sauce was to die for. I started to drool a little.

“And fresh-squeezed orange juice!” Charlie added.

“And cocoa, tea, coffee, milk, and whatever else we want to drink,” Peter said as he put a perfectly arranged plate in front of me. In addition to the delicious-smelling egg dish, there were beautiful breakfast potatoes, sliced fruit, and a small serving of yogurt.

Peter was, as always, amazing. We'd only been in D.C. for a day or so and he had the household running like we'd never left. Peter could have had a full staff—we could certainly afford it—but he insisted that he preferred to ensure that he remained invaluable. Once we were all served and Peter was seated, Dad said a short blessing, then we all got to the business of eating breakfast.

Conversation centered around how good the food was and the weather, which was cold but clear. Charles brought up the skiing idea, which was met with enthusiasm from the boys. All the adults, however, were of my opinion—we'd rather avoid being in the jet or on a long car ride for a while.

“So, Dad, we're thinking we'll tackle the zoo today. You coming with?”

“No, kitten, I can't.”

“Why not?”

Dad sighed. “Your Aunt Carla has a half-day layover and wants to see us. I told her that you all had unbreakable plans, but that I was free.”

“Oh. God. Thanks for taking one for the team, Dad. You're the best.”

“Is she coming here?” Charles asked, with absolutely no enthusiasm. I shared his reaction.

Dad shook his head. “I'm meeting her at the airport. She gave me the usual complaints about Colonial Village.”

“How does Aunt Carla the Bigoted Snob come from the same family as Mom?” Colonial Village was mostly African-American. No one here had ever made us feel anything other than welcome, and we had a lot in common with our neighbors, seeing as they were all affluent and mostly in high-powered government jobs. Only my Aunt Carla or someone like her would complain about our having a home here.

“There's one in every family, kitten.”

“Be glad Charles has money,” James said with a laugh. “Or you'd never hear the end of how you shouldn't have married him.”

“Yes, because the money's what motivates Kitty,” Charles said dryly. He took and squeezed my hand.

“Right. Not brains, personality, looks, or, you know, anything else.”

Charles grinned at me. I'd learned, fast, not to mention that I was motivated by our great sex life—Charlie had been far too aware, far too early, of what words meant. We weren't sure if he was smarter than me and Charles, but we were betting that he was. Max, too. Jamie . . . well, the jury was still out.

“Do you need us to drop you at the airport?” James asked.

Dad shook his head. “I'll drive myself. That way, if Carla's flight is delayed the rest of you won't have to worry.”

“We could take her to the zoo with us. I'm sure the lions are hungry.”

“Kitten, she's still your aunt. She loves all of us, even if she's not our favorite person. So, is everyone else going?” Dad asked, the other men, more than me.

“I can't,” Peter said. “Much as I'd love to.”

“Awww,” Max said. “Why not, Uncle Peter? It's always more fun if you're there.”

“You always say the nicest things, my dearest. But your Uncle Peter has discovered several issues with the house that must be taken care of immediately if not sooner. It's a good thing we came back earlier than planned,” he said to me and Charles, “and thankfully we have wonderful neighbors here, because firing the maintenance company and hiring a new one is first on my agenda for today. Charles, should I try to stick with the same budget?”

“Whatever you want, Peter, you know that's what we want. Choose the service you feel is best, and then worry about what it costs.”

“And get presents for whoever covered whatever for us,” I added.

Peter waved his hand nonchalantly. “Already handled, Kitty darling. Pictures will be taken so everyone knows what we gave to whom. The neighborhood is throwing us an early return party in a few days. I'll be coordinating that, of course. So, today I'm homebound.”

“That's two of us out,” Dad said. “What about you, Charles?”

As Charles opened his mouth, Social Distortion's “Ball and Chain” started playing. This wasn't my ringtone—our ringtones for each other were the same, Queen's “You're My Best Friend.” No, this was the ringtone for the think tank. He sighed as he stood up. “Let me get back to you on that.”