Chapter 9
Trina ushered Angie and my parents from the lounge, for which I was profoundly grateful. Healing comas are wonderful things, but they do have one potentially embarrassing side-effect: You talk. Not every time, but often enough, and about whatever comes into your drowsy mind. We call it babbling.
Among the team, we all understand the phenomenon, and everyone does his best to ignore everyone else's babblings. It's not anything I would want my younger sister to hear, though, or, heaven forbid, my parents. And yes, I do realize I will eventually have to deal with the situation if and when Angie joins the team as our new Prime Violet, but I will happily put off crossing that particular bridge until it comes pounding on my door demanding to be crossed.
Some time later, my eyes snapped open and I was instantly alert. I sat up and discovered I was the only one in the room; everyone else must have already finished healing. Following the sound of voices, I wandered into the kitchen.
Trina and Angie and my parents must have made good use of the time that the rest of us were zonked out, because all the dishes my mom and Angie had prepared at home were now spread out across our kitchen table and all the sideboards. Healing comas tend to make one hungry, and my teammates were now busily engaged in making as large a dent as possible in the food.
My mother waved me over excitedly. "I see what you meant, Trevor," she said. "They didn't want to eat too much before, but after your mission, they are eating as if they were starving."
I smiled and nodded. Then my father came over and asked me quietly in Mandarin if there were somewhere the three of us could talk undisturbed. Casting a longing eye at the rapidly-disappearing supply of home-cooked Chinese, I led them over to the office.
"Mother and I had some time to talk about Wizzit's proposal while we were watching your fight," my father began, still in Mandarin, once we had all found seats, "and we have come to a decision."
"Son, we had been planning to move to a smaller house once your sister left for college," my mother explained. "Or perhaps to a condominium. We love that old house, but with just the two of us, there seemed no point in keeping it."
"I understand," I said, hiding my disappointment as best I could.
"Don't understand us too fast, son," my father said with a smile. "As Mother said, we didn't especially want to move. It just seemed like the right thing to do. Now, if we had a good reason to stay, well, the two of us are in good health and we like the neighborhood, so . . ." He shrugged.
"What Father is saying is that we would be most happy to be the host family for you and your friends." My mother beamed at me. "They seem like very nice young people; it would be a joy to have them come by for visits."
Surprised, I sat back and grinned at them. "Wow! That's great to hear."
"Indeed it is," came Wizzit's voice from the speakers in the ceiling. "Mr. Doctor Chiao and Mrs. Doctor Chiao, I thank you for your most gracious offer." Man, oh man, Wizzit could really lay on the smarm when he wanted to.
A thought occurred to me. "Wizzit, do you think we ought to tell them about . . . you know, that other thing you and I were discussing . . ."
"What thing are you talking about, Trevor?"
"You know, the . . . thing." My parents were staring at me now, and I shook my head in frustration. What I wanted him to tell them was that he was going to ask Angela to be our new Prime Violet, probably sometime in January. "The thing you were going to do after the first of the year? You know, that wouldn't take effect until the summer?"
"Ah, I see what you mean. That would be inadvisable at present. Lovely young lotus flowers have big ears."
Hmm. If I understood him properly, he was saying that Angela was currently listening in on our conversation, probably from just outside the door. "Young lotus flowers can be plucked up from one place and put down again in another," I said. "I would be willing to perform such a transplant."
"Very good. If you would, please."
Ignoring my parents' puzzled looks, I got up from my chair and opened the door. Angie was standing there, looking as if she had just stepped up to the doorway. Or as if she had artfully arranged herself to appear that way. "Oh, hi," she said brightly. "I was just, um, coming by to ask Mom and Dad if, um . . ."
I took her arm. "They need to talk with Wizzit for a little while longer, little sis. Privately." She reluctantly let me steer her back to the kitchen.
Attack Doll 4: Primes Emeriti Page 9