by Brenda Hiatt
Once inside, Uncle Louie went into the living room and turned on a football game while Aunt Theresa busied herself making lunch. I joined her in the kitchen, figuring this would be a good opportunity to reassure her about everything.
“Aunt Theresa, I know you’re probably a little—”
“Marsha, would you mind getting the cold cuts and cheese out of the refrigerator?” she interrupted. “Oh, and the mayonnaise as well.”
After a startled moment, I complied. The sense of surrealism I’d felt so often over the past week started creeping back as she built sandwiches for all of us, meticulously placing the cheese, then the lettuce, just so.
“You weren’t home to do any of your usual Saturday chores yesterday,” she said after a moment, not looking at me. “Will you be able to do them today, or do you have other, er, plans?” I detected a trace of the same nervousness she’d displayed around the O’Garas and Stuarts at church.
“I promised Rigel I’d meet him in town sometime this afternoon, but I should have time to get my chores done first. Especially since it looks like Uncle Louie already mowed the lawn.”
“I did that myself, before he came home from work last night. Here, set these on the table for me. Er, please.”
She was being as weirdly polite to me as she’d been to the Stuarts at church but otherwise she seemed determined to act like nothing was different. And maybe, with the Grentl crisis over, everything would run smoothly enough that her life wouldn’t need to change much at all.
I’d kind of hoped mine would, though…
2
Facets
AFTER lunch, Uncle Louie went back to watching football and I caught up on my Saturday chores of bathroom cleaning and vacuuming. Once that was done, I ran upstairs to brush my hair and pocket my omni before finally heading over to the arboretum—and Rigel.
He arrived at the entrance on his bike at the same time I arrived on foot. After a hello kiss—quick, but still so good—we walked hand in hand through the archway. The weather had clouded over since this morning and the breeze smelled like rain but there were still a surprising number of people strolling around the arboretum. There was even a couple sitting on “our” bench in the back corner, a baby in a stroller next to them.
“Kinda crowded for what I had in mind,” Rigel murmured to me with that crooked smile that always made my heart speed up. “Want to go hit Dream Cream first, see if the weather chases some of these folks off later on?”
“Sure. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”
Though I hoped we’d manage a real makeout session before I had to go home, openly holding hands with Rigel while walking down Diamond Street felt pretty darned special after being forced to hide our relationship for so long.
We’d just reached the first couple of shops in Jewel’s little business district when we detected Echtran vibes just ahead. Scanning the Sunday afternoon shoppers on the sidewalk in front of us, I easily spotted the source—a man and two women, all noticeably more attractive than average, looking through the front window of the Gems of Jewel art gallery.
Out of habit, we paused—then I gave a little laugh. “Hey, what are we afraid of? After what we did Friday night, nobody can possibly condemn us for being together now. Right?”
“Oh. Yeah. Right.” He returned my grin. “C’mon, let’s make nice—and hope they don’t go all gaga over you.”
Since word went out last Fall that the long-lost princess (me) had been discovered alive in Jewel, a steady stream of Echtrans had made what were practically pilgrimages to gawk at me. Some had been so obvious I was surprised none of the locals suspected anything. I braced myself as we approached the small group.
Just as we’d sensed them, they felt our brath before we reached them. Three sets of eyes widened as they turned and saw me, but to my relief none of them blurted anything out. I took the initiative anyway, just to be on the safe side.
“You’re all new here, aren’t you? Welcome to Jewel.” I smiled, trying to project an easy, casual attitude in hopes they’d mimic it.
The man stiffened for an instant, his right fist instinctively coming halfway to his chest for the traditional salute before he self-consciously dropped it to his side. The two women continued staring for another second or two, then relaxed into echoing smiles as the initial spurt of alarm I’d sensed faded into mild nervousness.
“Thank you,” the older of the two women said after a barely-awkward pause. “We only just arrived last night, so haven’t had as much time as some of our, ah, coworkers to settle in yet. But it seems…a lovely place. I’m Maddy.”
“I’m Leila,” the other woman piped up, “and this is my husband, Darby. We’re honored to be among those chosen to come here and very pleased to meet you…er…”
“I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself right off,” I said quickly, for the benefit of any Jewelites within earshot, since these three clearly knew perfectly well who I was. “I’m Marsha Truitt, and this is Rigel Stuart.”
As our new acquaintances glanced quickly back and forth between Rigel and me, then down at our clasped hands, all three smiles froze. The excited nervousness I’d sensed gave way to outrage, even hostility.
“It’s true then!” the man Darby whispered fiercely, now positively glaring at Rigel. “After pretending to be a hero, you completely went back on your promise to—”
“That’s enough.” I cut off whatever he’d been about to say, stunned by their abrupt shift in attitude. “I owe Rigel my life many times over, not to mention—”
Rigel tightened his grip on my hand, reminding me that I couldn’t create a scene in the middle of Diamond Street, surrounded by Duchas locals. Gently, he began tugging me away.
Let it go, M. This isn’t—
No! I won’t go all Royal on them right now, but I won’t let it go. I won’t let anyone—
Really, M, it’s okay. He kept tugging.
Darby had gone scarlet at my interruption. He didn’t say anything else, but kept looking daggers at Rigel—as did the two women with him.
“Know that I consider disrespect toward Rigel disrespect toward me,” I informed them, so quietly no non-Echtran could possibly hear me. “It won’t be tolerated. Period.” Then, in a normal voice, “Have a nice day.”
Turning pointedly away, I continued down the street still hand in hand with Rigel. I could feel him trying to send calming thoughts my way, but it was a full minute before my irritation subsided enough for them to penetrate.
“What’s wrong with those people?” I finally muttered, still too upset to send coherent sentences silently. “Don’t they realize—?”
Maybe not. Rigel’s thoughts and emotions were nowhere near as agitated as mine. Maybe they haven’t heard yet about what happened Friday night. If all they know is from that article in the Enquirer… He shrugged.
After a few deep breaths, I managed to reply mentally. I’m going to give that Gwendolyn Gannett a piece of my mind. She had no business printing all of Gordon Nolan’s lies about you without even checking them out. I’ll make her print a retraction if she doesn’t do it on her own. Which she totally should.
Seriously, it’s okay, he insisted, throwing an arm around my shoulders to give me a sideways hug. As long as nobody’s trying to physically separate us, I can handle a few insults.
I shook my head, still pissed. It’s not right. You risked your life to save all of theirs!
So did you. Those three are probably just an isolated case, he thought soothingly as we reached Dream Cream. Then, aloud, “C’mon, I’ll get you an ice cream—mint chocolate chip. That always makes you feel better.”
* * *
It did. After half an hour and a hot fudge sundae with mint chip ice cream, I was much more willing to accept Rigel’s explanation for the disturbing encounter we’d just experienced. He was right—it would take time for the full story of what we’d done Friday to reach everyone, especially people in the middle of moving to a new town. Shoot, they pr
obably didn’t even have their internet hooked up yet.
A light drizzle was falling when we went back outside.
“Let’s head back to the arboretum,” Rigel suggested. “I’ve got a fold-up umbrella attached to my bike.”
I readily agreed, longing for that makeout session more than ever now. The rain picked up as we hurried down Diamond Street, quickly thinning the Sunday shopping crowd. By the time we reached the arboretum again, it was deserted. Just like we’d hoped.
Rigel unstrapped the umbrella from his bike’s crossbar and opened it. Holding it over both of us, he threw his other arm around me and we headed to our favorite bench, out of sight from the entrance. Unfortunately, just as we reached it, a breeze kicked up, making the umbrella a lot less effective.
I squinted up at Rigel, who was trying to angle the umbrella to shield me better—and getting himself wetter in the process. On sudden impulse, I pulled out my omni. Sensing Rigel’s startled alarm, I just grinned.
“Hey, nobody’s here but us.” I brought up its little holographic screen and a moment later our bench was dry and an invisible shield made the rain sheer away just before it touched us.
His disapproval faded into anticipation. Folding the umbrella, he sat on the bench and drew me down next to him. “I ought to be lecturing you that it’s not safe to use that thing in public, but you’re right—I don’t see anyone joining us in this weather. Besides, I’d rather not have to juggle an umbrella right now.”
He put both arms around me and for the next blissful half hour we didn’t focus on anything but each other, kissing to our hearts’ content and rejoicing that we’d be able to do this a lot from now on.
“Oh, good, you’re home,” Aunt Theresa greeted me when I got back. “Once you’ve washed your hands, would you mind setting the table?”
“Oh, um, sure.”
I expected her to ask me something about where I’d been all afternoon—or at least why I wasn’t wetter—but she didn’t.
“Squires Electronics and Glitterby’s both called, asking if you can come by late tomorrow afternoon for publicity photos with the rest of the Homecoming Court. I told them I believed you would be available?”
“I should be.” I remembered Rigel doing that sort of thing after last year’s Homecoming, grumbling that it was time he couldn’t spend with me. Trina, last year’s Sophomore Princess to his Prince, had loved it, of course.
Uncle Louie was still watching football in the living room, so I tried again to broach the subject she’d avoided earlier. “Aunt Theresa, if there’s anything else you’d like to know about the stuff Mrs. O’Gara told you yesterday afternoon, I’ll be happy to—”
“Yes, well, perhaps after dinner,” she interrupted, handing me three plates.
I took them with a questioning look—that she totally ignored. With a sigh, I got out silverware and napkins and carried them with the plates into the dining room. My aunt was just taking a meatloaf out of the oven when I returned to the kitchen.
“Look, Aunt Theresa, I can tell you don’t really—”
“Don’t forget the water glasses, Marsha. Then you can spoon these mashed potatoes into a serving dish.”
Wow, she really, really didn’t want to talk—or hear—about anything to do with Martians. Like, at all.
During dinner, Uncle Louie brought up the same topic I’d heard people discussing at church this morning. “A lot of folks think that new company, whatever it is, moving its headquarters to Jewel will really turn things around for this town. I sure won’t mind if business picks up at the car lot.”
Before they’d pissed me off by being rude to Rigel, those three people we’d met in town this afternoon had confirmed what I’d guessed in church about these newcomers. Which made me wonder again how the Council could have failed to tell me about something as big as a whole Echtran company coming to Jewel.
True, the Council had been wrapped up with the Grentl thing all last week. And at the two prior meetings, I’d been so obsessed with Rigel getting his memory back it was possible I might have missed a few details. Still, shouldn’t I have received a report or something? I was the Sovereign, and Jewel was my home town.
“I suppose a bit of new blood could be a good thing, as long as these newcomers don’t try to change things around here too much.” Aunt Theresa shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Melinda, that waitress at the Lighthouse, said they’ve come from somewhere on the East Coast?”
“It sounded to me like she was just guessing,” I said quickly. “I don’t think she knew.”
Uncle Louie shrugged. “Wherever they’re coming from, there must be a lot of them,” he said around a mouthful of mashed potato. “Don Billingsley sold three houses just last week. And he said almost every apartment at Diamond View Terrace has been rented. Bet they finally finish that second phase across Ruby Street, the one they started a few years back, now there’s so much demand.”
My aunt and uncle continued to talk about ways the new company was likely to change things around town. Uncle Louie was mostly optimistic while Aunt Theresa seemed more apprehensive.
I suspected she’d be way more worried if she knew the truth. After dinner I lingered in the kitchen after we finished up the dishes, planning to at least drop a hint, but my aunt kept bustling around, not looking at me.
“Um, Aunt Theresa, I should probably tell you—”
“There, that’s the last of the dishes,” she interrupted, putting away the glass she’d just dried. I caught a glimpse of her expression—more wary than curious—before she turned away from me to pull a bowl from a lower cabinet.
“I promised Martha Havens three dozen oatmeal walnut cookies for the benefit tomorrow. I’d better start mixing up the batter.”
I stood there uncertainly, waiting, but she didn’t look at me again. Finally, I shrugged. “Guess I’ll go finish my homework.”
She nodded, still refusing to meet my eye, so I left the kitchen and went upstairs. That was some serious denial she had going on! But maybe it was just as well I hadn’t said anything before finding out more.
As soon as I reached my bedroom I sent a brief message to Kyna on my omni asking about the newcomers. Less than five minutes later she called me.
“I’m glad that you contacted me, Excellency. You are right, of course, that Jewel’s newest residents are Echtran. I didn’t realize so many had already arrived.”
“Why wasn’t I told about this ahead of time? This whole thing must have been in the works for a while now. Apparently there was even a piece about it in the Indianapolis newspaper!”
“A, ah, majority of the Council felt that there was no need to involve you in the details until they were finalized. A report was to have been sent last week—to all of us—but the Grentl crisis delayed that, among other things.”
“Um, this sounds like something I need to know about now,” I said. “This new company, or whatever it is, is already generating a lot of gossip.”
“Agreed.” She sounded oddly relieved. “If your schedule allows, I will request that the Council meet tomorrow evening so that you—and the rest of us—can receive the full report at once.”
Since I couldn’t think of a higher priority, now that the Grentl were out of the way, I said that would be fine. Then I finally started catching up on all my homework that had accumulated over the past week.
The next morning, Aunt Theresa still seemed determined to act like Saturday never happened. She got bowls and cereal out, sliced up a banana for her and Uncle Louie to share, then poured me a glass of orange juice, just like any other weekday morning.
“I have a, ah, thing at the O’Garas’ house tonight, but not until after dinner,” I said casually as I took the glass from her.
Her brows rose, along with the level of discomfort I felt off her. I was about to reassure her when she turned to Uncle Louie as though I hadn’t even spoken.
“This month’s water bill was rather high. Do you know if they’ve raised the rates a
gain?”
He didn’t, but she stubbornly stuck to that topic until I had to leave for school. Walking to the bus stop, I almost wondered if I was the delusional one, everything at home was so completely unchanged from before.
* * *
At school I overheard a few comments about the new “tech company,” mainly students repeating their parents’ speculations. It was obvious no one knew anything concrete yet, but pretty soon people were bound to start demanding real info. I just hoped whatever cover story the Council had come up with would satisfy them.
I stayed after to watch football practice since I hadn’t been able to all last week, what with the Grentl and all. Rigel needed me there occasionally so he could practice compensating for the enhanced strength and speed our bond gave him when I attended his games.
When we parted at the late buses afterward, I promised to let him know whatever I found out tonight as soon as the Council meeting was over.
I’ll try to get a recap from my dad, too, once he gets back, he sent as our buses pulled out of the lot. Then if I ask questions he won’t know I got any info from you.
Good plan.
We’d both agreed to keep our new, hugely increased telepathic range a secret—for a while, anyway.
Aunt Theresa got home not long after I did. “Are you ready?”
I looked up from the kitchen table, where I was finishing the homework I’d started during football practice. “Ready?”
I was pretty sure if she meant ready to finally answer questions about Martian stuff she wouldn’t be smiling so broadly.
“To represent Jewel High. I’m sure you want to look your best for those publicity photos.”
Oh, right. Those stupid Homecoming Court pictures. “Um, almost. I just need to touch up my lip gloss and brush my hair.”