The Exxar Chronicles: Book 02 - Emissary

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The Exxar Chronicles: Book 02 - Emissary Page 41

by Neal Jones


  Laura believes this with all her heart, but that belief still doesn't ease the ache of losing him, of losing the relationship that meant more to her than she's willing to admit, even to herself. She hadn't meant to fall in love with him, and it surprised her how easily that happened, caught her completely off guard in fact. It still surprises her. That is what Laura hates the most, hates it with a bitterness that only the heartsick can know, and if she could she would go back in time and interrupt herself at that first chance meeting three years ago. She would tell her past self that it wasn't worth it, that Marcus Gabriel would make her deliriously happy, but that that happiness would come with a price, and that two people who were made for each other - and fit each other so perfectly in so many ways - could never really be together for the rest of their lives.

  "Marcus Dylan Gabriel!"

  The name startles Laura back to the present, and she looks toward the stage where Marc is ascending the stairs to receive his rank from Vice Admiral Lucas. The audience applauds and cheers, and Laura can see both of Marc's parents in one of the back rows. His sister and brother are there as well, and though she can't see their faces clearly, she knows what they must be feeling at this moment: pride and joy. This is a moment in all their lives that will never be forgotten, and Laura knows once more that her decision to break off the engagement was the right one. Marc will know it too, in time.

  Laura closes her eyes, squeezing back the tears. She has cried enough these past few months, and she loves Jeanette with all her heart. Though she never really desired to have children of her own, not at this age anyway, she can't believe how much Jeanette has changed her life for the better. She's the one good thing that has come from all of this, and maybe someday she will know her father. And maybe then, too, Laura and Marc will be able to confront the consequences of this choice with the wisdom that comes only with age and time.

  But for now there is only the throbbing ache in her chest, and she suddenly, desperately needs to be away from here. She will go back to her aunt's house in Maine, and she will cuddle her new baby as she rocks her to sleep, softly singing lullabies of bittersweet childhood dreams.

  Chapter 22

  ____________________

  ( 1 )

  "IS THERE ANYTHING IN PARTICULAR you're looking for?"

  Jennifer Rosenberg looked up to find a perky, young saleswoman standing on the other side of the clothing display. "No, thank you." She forced a smile until the girl walked away. You shouldn't be allowed to work in a maternity clothing store unless you're pregnant yourself, Jennifer thought sourly as she watched the clerk's perfectly round ass bounce away.

  She sighed, laying aside the two blouses that she'd been thinking of buying. She didn't really need them, but after dropping Emalie off at school Jennifer hadn't wanted to go back to empty quarters. So she'd ordered the PTL to take her to the promenade instead, and the last two hours had been spent window shopping, which was something that Jennifer typically despised. Her sisters could spend an entire galactic standard week at a twenty-level shopping mall and still complain about not having enough time to visit all the stores. Not until she was pregnant with Emalie did Jennifer have any desire to go shopping, and only then for maternity clothes or outfits for the baby.

  Jennifer paused outside the store, deciding to buy the pair of blouses after all. She had only saved a couple of maternity outfits from the first pregnancy, and it had been a long time since she'd spent money on herself. On her way to the checkout stand she snagged a couple pants and a pair of earrings, and as she approached the counter she saw that the girl behind it was the same clerk who had spoken to her earlier.

  "Well hello again," the girl said, grinning as if she was high on something. "Decided to splurge after all?"

  "Yeah, something like that," Jennifer said politely.

  "Oh, these are lovely. You'll look so good in this color. When are you due?"

  Jennifer was already regretting her decision to come back in the store. "Just put these on Doctor Benjamin Rosenberg's account. He's the station CMO."

  "Oh sure." If the clerk took offense at Jennifer's attitude she didn't show it as she accessed the account on her terminal screen. "Yep, I got it. Would you like these delivered to your quarters?"

  "Yes, thank you," Jennifer said, and then walked away from the counter before the girl had a chance to respond. Some people were just too damn cheerful for their own good.

  Jennifer glanced at her timeband and decided an early lunch was the next stop, though she wasn't very hungry. She descended to the second level, looking for a café that was quiet, relatively empty, and used holographic waiters. If she had to deal with another perky, cheerful employee she was going to vomit on them.

  "Welcome to Plizzar's," the humanoid maitre d' greeted Jennifer.

  She forced another smile. "Hello."

  He handed her a menu. "You may sit where you like."

  "Thank you." Jennifer chose a booth in the back, near the entrance to the latrines. She wasn't suffering nausea as bad with this pregnancy as she had with Emalie, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

  A holographic waiter materialized in front of the table almost as soon as Jennifer sat down. "Would you like something to drink, ma'am?"

  "Yes. A medium unsweetened ice tea. Cold."

  "I will be right back."

  As he walked away, Jennifer perused the menu. Nothing seemed appetizing at this moment, but it would look ridiculous for her to just order tea. She should try to at least eat a salad, or perhaps half a sandwich. Or maybe some soup.

  The waiter returned. "Here you go. Are you ready to order?"

  Jennifer shook her head. "I need a few more minutes, please."

  "Very good. When you are ready, summon me by pressing the logo in the upper corner of your menu."

  "Yes, thank you," Jennifer replied without looking up. She sipped her tea as she looked over the menu once more, but she still couldn't decide.

  A commotion at the entrance drew her attention, and Jennifer watched a group of women seat themselves at a table in the center of the restaurant. There were six of them, all humanoid, and they appeared to be a social group enjoying an afternoon on the promenade. They were all laughing at something one of them had said as they entered, and the waiter's initial greeting fell on deaf ears. Once the women calmed down, they babbled to one another about what to order for drinks, finally deciding on a round of cocktails for starters. Once the waiter left to fill their order, the women looked over their menus, occasionally commenting on one or more items. The waiter returned with the drinks, and the ladies were silent for a few moments as they took first sips. Then someone made a humorous remark, and the whole group laughed once more. It took them another five minutes to order, and then the conversation turned to gossip and anecdotes.

  Jennifer watched them, feeling absurdly envious. Her sisters would have fit right in with this group of women. Their whole lives were probably nothing more than social functions – clubs, school fundraisers, luncheons, and shopping. Their husbands were most likely military officers, and it was a good bet that these women had never met before their respective spouses were assigned to Exxar-One. Yet they had all come together somehow, and they seemed genuinely...happy.

  Jennifer shook her head, disgusted, and she opened the menu again, but a sudden surge of emotion made her vision blurry, and she became even more angry with herself. She must have pressed the corner of the menu because the waiter suddenly materialized in front of her table.

  "What can I get for you, ma'am?"

  Jennifer scrubbed a hand over her eyes and held out her credit chip. "Just the tea, thank you. I need to be going."

  The waiter processed the payment and handed back the chip. "Thank you for your patronage. Have a lovely afternoon."

  Jennifer walked quickly past the group of ladies enjoying their cocktails, and as soon as she was back on the promenade she took a right, heading for the nearest PTL. She was going to start sobbing at any second,
though she couldn't really understand why, and the last thing she wanted was to put on a show for the afternoon shoppers and tourists.

  She didn't notice until after the doors closed that there was someone else in the tube with her. She caught the black-with-purple-trim of an EarthCorps uniform from the corner of her eye, and Jennifer turned away, clearing her throat in an effort to compose herself.

  "Are you Ben's wife?"

  Jennifer forced yet another smile as she turned back, and she was startled to see that it was Commander Decev who had spoken. "Yes. Yes, I am. Jennifer."

  Mariah smiled. "Yes, I remember. We only met that one time on the Dauntless a few months ago."

  Jennifer nodded. "Yes." She coughed again, not sure what else to say, and wanting more than ever to be back in her quarters where she could cry in peace.

  Decev reached out and placed a hand on Jennifer's shoulder. "I'm sorry to be so forward but...are you all right?"

  And before Jennifer could choke back another sob in order to answer, the lift came to a sudden, abrupt halt, and an alarm on the computer panel beeped three times. Had Mariah not reached out, Jennifer would have stumbled backwards and probably hit her head – or something worse.

  "What – what's happening?" Jennifer managed.

  "I don't know." Decev turned to the com panel where an amber light was blinking in steady rhythm. She tapped it. "This is Commander Decev in PTL tube twenty-four, on route" – she glanced at the readout on the panel's screen – "seventy-one alpha. Please report."

  There was a moment of silence, and then a male humanoid voice replied, "This is Lieutenant Helfer. There has been a minor technical malfunction on that particular route. An engineering crew has already been dispatched. Security failsafes have already locked your tube, and you should be fine until a rescue crew arrives. Shouldn't be more than fifteen or twenty minutes."

  "Thank you lieutenant. Decev out." She turned to Jennifer. "Would you like –"

  Jennifer was sobbing. She hadn't been able to hold back any longer. She felt shamed and embarrassed, like a little kid in school whose teacher won't let them use the restroom and they end up wetting their pants in front of the whole class. "I'm sorry," she gushed, trying to stem the tide with great gasps of air, but to little success. "I don't know –" The rest of her sentence was lost in tears.

  "It's all right," Mariah said, gently helping Jennifer to a comfortable sitting position on the floor. "Technical hiccups like this happen from time to time. We'll be out of here in a few minutes."

  This only made Jennifer laugh, and she felt bad for laughing, on top of feeling embarrassed for crying, and the more she tried to formulate a vocal response, the harder it was to control the crying and the laughter, and the confused expression on Decev's face just made the whole situation seem even funnier and more tragic at the same time. The dam had burst, and there was no stopping the flood until it had run its course.

  After a minute or two Jennifer finally regained control, and she was grateful for the wad of tissues that she had remembered to stuff in her pants pocket on the way out the door that morning. She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, blew her nose again, scrubbed a hand through her hair, and then looked up at Mariah.

  "I'm sorry."

  "For what?"

  Jennifer chuckled ruefully. "You're used to pregnant women suffering emotional breakdowns in front of you?"

  Mariah smiled sympathetically. "No, but I have been pregnant, and I know how crazy the hormones can get. I once physically assaulted my husband when he tried to change channels on the HT in the middle of a movie."

  Jennifer laughed, and then wiped her eyes again. She sighed. "This is a little more serious than that."

  "Yeah, I could tell when you first walked in here. You want to talk about it?"

  "It's not one thing. It's...I don't know." Jennifer gave a frustrated sigh, looking down at her hands as she rolled the wadded up tissue from one palm to the other. "I was feeling like this long before the pregnancy."

  "Like what?"

  Jennifer sighed again, frowning a little. "Depressed is as good a word as any, I guess. Did Ben tell you that he took this assignment to Exxar-One over my objections?"

  Decev shook her head.

  "He promised me that his next posting would be planetside, either Earth or Mars. In fact, he was offered a teaching position at the academy. But then he made the decision to accept this posting without discussing it with me, and I've been punishing him for it ever since." She paused, correcting herself. "Well, not quite that long. Once we got settled in here it wasn't so bad. And then I got hired as a substitute teacher, and I'd never had a part time job before at any of Ben's other postings. So for awhile everything seemed...okay. And Ben explained why he wanted this posting so badly, and he promised again in three years that the next posting would be on Earth, even if it meant leaving EarthCorps. And I believed him." She smiled a little, pointing to her slightly extended belly. "That was when this happened."

  Jennifer's smile faded. "But then the Chrisarii attacked the station, and there was those bombings on the promenade, and all of a sudden it seemed as if this place wasn't so safe after all. I started to get angry all over again, and all I could think was that if Ben had just accepted that position at the academy, we wouldn't have to be going through this kind of peril. His last posting was at Lyden-four, and after living on a planet for a few years you forget how dangerous living on a space station or a starship can be. And that was it. I left Exxar-One, and I honestly had no intention of coming back. I was going to live on Earth for the next three years, and if Ben wanted to join Emalie and me, then great. He could request a transfer to the academy. If not, then it would be as if he was serving a tour on a starship. He would get to see us twice a year, maybe three times if he was lucky."

  Jennifer shook her head, blinking back more tears. "I was just so tired of being so unhappy. And thinking about it now I realize that it had nothing to do with Ben or his decision to accept this posting." She looked at Decev. "Have you ever gotten to a point in your life, and all you can think is, how the hell did I end up here?" She paused, waiting for an answer.

  "Honestly?" Mariah replied. "No, I can't say that I have. I have had moments where I wondered if I was making the right choice as far as marriage or career. But I think from what you're telling me, you're feeling like you're lost more than anything else."

  "Yes," Jennifer nodded. "Lost is a good word." She blew her nose again and wiped her eyes. "The other day I was on the promenade, and I sat for at least a couple hours, just watching people come and go." She trailed off, thinking to herself for a few moments. "I've felt like that ever since coming back here. Like I'm just...passing the time." Jennifer blinked, as if she realized what she'd just said and how it might sound. "Don't get me wrong. I love Ben, and I love my children." She looked down at her belly and laid a hand on it, gently, as if the slightest touch might endanger the life within. "It's just..." Her voice trailed off again.

  "You wonder if being a wife and mother is all that there is?" Mariah prompted.

  "Something like that, I guess." Jennifer thought about it some more and then added, "I feel like I've just been a follower for most of my life, trailing behind everyone else. I have five siblings and four of them are older. I didn't feel neglected or anything like that, but at the same time I always felt a little lost in the shuffle. And it didn't help that my parents were both traditionalists. My mother always believed that a woman should stand beside her man and support him, that he's the breadwinner, and that we are just wives and mothers. That's the way it should be. When you grow up you're supposed to attend college because that's where you'll find a good husband, and then the two of you get married young, and you start the family right away. That's the way it's always been for the Bishop clan, and what was good enough for our great-great-grandfathers and great-great-grandmothers is good enough for us."

  "Praise the gods and amen!" Mariah blurted, and then immediately blushed. She hadn't meant to say it out
loud.

  Jennifer laughed. "Yes. That's exactly it!" This time her smile didn't fade so quickly. "We grew up working in the family business – my father is a chef with his own chain of restaurants – and there were two things that were drilled into us children the moment we popped out of the womb: respect your elders, and never underestimate the value of a hard day's work. Of course later on I came to realize that that was the men's motto. The women were expected to stand by their men and provide them a good home – as well as lots of children." She stuffed her tissue back into her pocket. "Well, it wasn't that completely cut and dried, but it was pretty close. All three of my older sisters were married one right after the other, and none of them finished more than two years of college."

  "And they all settled close to home," Mariah said.

  "Yeah, they did. And boy, you should have seen my mother's face when I told her I was marrying a military officer. She wasn't very happy about it. It meant I would never be home except once a year, if that, and no Bishop in four generations has ever settled anywhere outside Earth's solar system." Jennifer smiled again, relishing the memory. "I think it was that more than anything that made me say yes to Ben's proposal." She frowned, biting her lower lip. "And yet, after the first couple years of our marriage I started to miss home, and the restaurant, and my nieces and nephews. I never realized how much I took it all for granted."

  Mariah nodded. "It's hard to make and keep friends when you move around every couple years."

 

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