Jayne understood; she’d had the same problem after the Incident. Every time someone referred to the Chosen Tradition or Joinings or anything along those lines, thoughts of her parents intruded, along with feelings of humiliation and shame. Over time her mind had stopped automatically dredging them up whenever someone mentioned an article number with “CT” in front of it. She wouldn’t have been able to function, otherwise. But would drawing on that experience upset Mo? “Your experience is very different from mine,” she said, wanting to make it clear that she wasn’t comparing Mo’s mama’s death to her parents’, “but after the Incident, I was plagued with reminders. If I could have shut them all out, I would have. It was tough in the beginning, but it eventually passed. If Peggy becomes a frequent visitor, you’ll stop thinking about your mama at some point. When you see Peggy, I mean.” When Mo stared at her, Jayne wanted to take the words back. “Will you show me your medal?”
Mo’s answering smile was self-mocking. “If you remind me next time we’re at my house.”
“No need.” Lesley stood up and pulled a box from her cloak pocket.
Mo’s face slackened. “You brought it?”
“I thought Jayne might ask.”
“Thank you,” Mo breathed, her voice a curious mix of surprise, gratitude, and...admiration?
Sensing an undercurrent between Lesley and Mo, Jayne tried to decipher what wasn’t being said, but remained puzzled. She accepted the box from Lesley with a murmured thank you, opened it, and gazed at Mo’s award.
“My mama got a commendation,” Mo said. “The Commendation of the Way, for bravery and selflessness.”
The highest possible civilian commendation. “You must be very proud. I wish I could have met her.” The feeling wouldn’t have been mutual.
“We may visit the Middleton crypt soon. Perhaps you’d like to come with us,” Lesley said.
Mo rose from the sofa and grabbed Lesley’s hand. “That’s a great idea, Les. Thank you.”
Again, that undercurrent. Jayne didn’t understand why Mo was so grateful to Lesley. Would she have found it difficult to invite Jayne to visit the crypt or show her the medal herself? “If you won’t mind, then yes, I’d like to go with you.” She left the chair to move closer to them. “Do you mind if I take the medal out so I can have a closer look?”
Mo shook her head.
“I’m sorry about your mama, Mo,” Jayne said as she turned the medal over and read the inscription on its back. “It must have been a terrible time for you.”
“It’s not really good for me to dwell on it, but I thought you should know in case we see more of Peggy.” Mo rolled her eyes. “It’s not Peggy, per se. I don’t even know her.”
Jayne placed the medal back in the box, closed it, and handed it back to Lesley. “Thank you for telling me.” She suspected they’d only scratched the surface when recounting the crash and its aftermath, especially since Article 844 had been invoked. But she wouldn’t torture Mo by prying; she was grateful that Mo—and Lesley—trusted her enough to share the little they had. Jayne could wait for the rest. “Are you sure you don’t want tziva?”
She wasn’t surprised when they both shook their heads. “I have a class tomorrow,” Lesley said. “We should go.”
They said good night. Jayne shut her apartment door behind them and thought once again about what a terrible time Mo must have had. Tonight had reminded her that she wasn’t the only one whose parents had died under horrible circumstances. Poor Mo. And Lesley had supported her through it all.
Jayne saw her two Chosens as an inseparable unit. She’d met them at the same time, was coming to know them at the same time, and was developing feelings for them at the same time. Having two Chosens no longer seemed strange at all. She couldn’t imagine one without the other and would always see herself as an appendage to their relationship. Fortunately they didn’t seem angry with her and still trusted her, so maybe the problems they were experiencing had nothing to do with her. So what was going on, then? She wanted to be there for them, just as Lesley had been there for Mo.
*****
Mo hung her cloak in the Middleton hallway and listened for voices. Silence. She breathed easier. Les had left for her course a couple of hours ago, but Mo had hung around the Thompsons’, hoping to give Peggy plenty of time to leave—if she’d stayed overnight. At some point, Mo would have to make an effort to talk to her, but not today.
She went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of juice, and was mid-sip when she suddenly tensed and quickly set the glass on the counter. The approaching footsteps grew louder. Papa appeared in the doorway. “So. You’re home.”
“Yeah, I’m home.” Mo folded her arms. “And I know what you’re going to say, but you should have warned us first. Okay, we still would have been shocked, but at least we would have been shocked without her staring at us. You probably figured we’d tell you we didn’t want to meet her, but you still should have told us first. And I know it was difficult for you to bring your...her home to meet us, but just springing her on us like that let you off the hook and put it on us.”
He sniffed. “Well, I guess I’ll just go back to the study.”
“What? That’s it?”
“You don’t seem to need me. You’re doing just fine carrying on a conversation between us without me opening my mouth!” He turned to leave.
“Okay, okay!” The amusement in his eyes irritated her. “Why didn’t you tell us, especially me? How do you think I felt? Every time I looked at her...” She blew out a sigh.
Papa’s brow puckered. “I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure you’d agree to meet her. I’ll admit to that. And I didn’t want you to worry. If I’d told you about her, you might have...I don’t know...”
“Needed a counsellor again? I won’t.” Ironic, how her problems with Les would prevent her from brooding over this latest twist in her life. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t find it difficult to warm up to her. Though it’s not her, per se.”
“I know.” He stepped into the kitchen. “I delayed bringing her home as long as I could,” he said quietly. “And when I couldn’t wait any longer, I thought it might be easier for you—for everyone—if you all met her together, so you’d all find out at the same time and none of you would be trapped in conversation with her.”
“Why couldn’t you wait any longer?” Mo asked, desperately hoping he wasn’t about to move Peggy in.
“I’d like her to spend the Festival of the Way with us.”
Was it that time already? “Doesn’t she have family?”
“She’s a Solitary. While she does have family, we’d like to spend it together.”
The Middletons and Thompsons had continued the tradition of spending the festival together while she and Les were separated. This would be Mo’s first festival at home since her time on the Falcon. “Have Adelaide and Alan met her? Do they even know about her? I assume we’ll be eating with them again.”
Papa nodded. “I’ll drop in on them later. I wanted you to know about Peggy first.”
Mo would love to be there, especially to see Adelaide’s face. The Festival of the Way supper could turn out to be livelier than usual this year, with Papa’s girlfriend and Jayne reading from the Chosen Tradition. Oh, yeah. This would be one supper to remember. Poor Jayne. No more Festival of the Ways with Carol and Ronald—or had she passed festival days alone? Wait. The mandatory morning program included the skits about the Adamses. Argamon! Mo didn’t care what Les said, they were definitely sitting in the back this year.
“So can I assume you’ll be pleasant at the festival? I don’t expect you to spend copious amounts of time with her, but it would be nice if you’d at least say hello and exchange a couple of words.”
“I’m not rude, Papa. If you’re serious about her...” he nodded “…then I’ll try. I don’t know when—” or if “—I’ll be able to sit down with her and have a serious conversation, but I won’t ignore her. She’s important to you.” He’d mov
ed on. She tried not to feel betrayed on Mama’s behalf, but she couldn’t help it. Yes, it was unreasonable and unfair; she couldn’t expect Papa to pine after Mama for the rest of his life. But a girlfriend would take some getting used to. “Give me some time. I’d like to hear about...” How their relationship had developed? Ugh. “About when you met and when you...I don’t know, realized you liked her. Just not yet.”
He gave her a small smile. “That’s fair. She knows that it may take time.”
“Did you tell her how Mama died?”
“I had to! I—”
She held up her hand. “I figured you had. I don’t even know why I asked.” They stared at each other.
Papa cleared his throat. “I should go to the workshop. I told Andrew I’d be in.” He hesitated. “I hoped to catch you, to make sure you weren’t too angry with me.”
“I’m not angry.” Not really. “Go make some pants or something.”
She twisted to pick up her glass and didn’t straighten until she’d heard him leave the kitchen. Why were her eyes tearing up? Was she grieving for Mama, for Papa, for herself? Or was she trying not to weep over her relationship with Les? The only positive thing about Peggy’s abrupt entry into her life was that she and Les had something new to talk about. Last night—telling Jayne about the accident and then staying with Les—it had almost felt as if things were back to normal between them. But they weren’t. Les had only temporarily put aside the mess around Jayne to support Mo. If only Mo could put aside her feelings for Jayne. If only they weren’t in a triad. If only Mama weren’t dead.
*****
Mo opened the audition room door and stepped into the waiting room. Normally she’d feel relieved, but the audition had been so far down on her worry list that it had felt like an afterthought. Hopefully she’d managed to infuse her performance with emotion and energy, regardless. She scanned the waiting room, her eyes briefly resting on Jayne before moving to a young ensign sitting across from her. “Patrick Davis?”
He gulped and nodded.
“They said you can go in.”
Davis picked up his violin and gave Mo a sickly smile as he walked past her, his face white and his chest heaving. It was a good thing he didn’t play a wind instrument.
Her gaze settled on Jayne again. Jayne’s pencil was poised over her sketchbook, but still; she stared expectantly at Mo. Mo quietly sighed and walked over to her.
“So?”
Mo shrugged. “I think I did all right. Nobody covered their ears.”
Jayne chuckled. “Did they say when you’ll find out?”
“In a couple of weeks.” Not that she cared one way or the other. Her life was a flaming mess! She’d deeply hurt one Chosen and didn’t know what to do with the other. Every minute she spent with Jayne felt like a betrayal. Was Les thinking about them? If their positions were reversed, Mo wouldn’t be able to concentrate when Les was out with Jayne. She’d sit in class wondering what they were talking about—and doing. On the other hand, Mo wanted to be with Jayne. Sort of. She could do without the unfamiliar awkwardness and the sinking feeling that she was hurting her relationship with Les every time she said something complimentary to Jayne or cared about what she thought. Would she ever relax when she was alone with Jayne? It would be impractical for her and Les to only see Jayne together, and Counsellor Berry wouldn’t approve.
Mo realized with a start that Jayne had closed her sketchbook and was now standing. On the way to the aviacraft, she struggled for something to say to fill the silence. Jayne must already have noticed that she wasn’t in a talkative mood, but with luck she’d put it down to pre-audition nerves. Now that the audition was over... “I talked to my papa about Peggy.” And had already told Les about it, so the flaming scorecard she now kept in her head was even. “She’ll spend the Festival of the Way with us, that’s why he wanted us to meet her.” She turned to Jayne. “I guess you’ll be spending the Festival of the Way with us, too.”
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Jayne said, not looking thrilled with the idea.
“We always have our festival supper with the Thompsons. We usually attend the morning program with them, too.” Except when Mama had been on duty at the Indoctrination Academy, but that hadn’t been an issue for several years now. No, this year, they’d all get to spend it with Peggy. Okay, talking about her family was a bad idea. “What do you usually do?” she asked Jayne.
Jayne shrugged. “Go to the morning program and then go home.”
“By yourself?”
“Carol has her family, and now Ronald’s family.”
“Carol’s family is your family too.”
When Jayne sighed, Mo wanted to touch her arm. Her grip tightened around her violin case. “Okay, I guess I’m not surprised they don’t invite you along.” Fortunately they’d reached the craft. Mo stored her violin in a cargo holder and slid into the pilot’s seat. Jayne sat in the passenger seat, where she usually sat when Les wasn’t with them, but again, Mo felt as if she were doing something wrong. She kept her eyes on the nav panel as she powered up the craft.
“Do you want to hang out at my apartment for a bit? Have a tziva?” Jayne asked.
Oh yeah, Mo could imagine recounting their afternoon to Les. I had my audition. I think it went okay, but I won’t hear for two weeks. Oh, and then we went back to Jayne’s apartment and were alone there for a while. Nothing happened. We talked. Just talked. Yep, talked. And Les would see guilt written all over her face, even though nothing had happened. “Um, why don’t we go to an eatery? I’m a little peckish.” She’d force down a dessert, or two.
“I think I have chocolate cookies at home.”
“No, no, don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s go out. Change of scenery. We’ll go to a nice little eatery in C5.” To forestall further protest, she made a great show of punching in the coordinates. The craft lifted off. “It has delicious cupcakes,” Mo said, for something to say. What would they talk about while eating? Maybe she’d just keep shoving cupcakes into her mouth.
Jayne leaned toward her. “How do you feel about Peggy, now that you’ve talked to your papa? Any better, or still the same?”
Mo swallowed and forced herself to turn and meet Jayne’s eyes. Argamon, she wanted to tell her how she felt! Not just about Peggy. Everything! For honesty’s sake, not because she wanted to act on her feelings—not now; not yet; perhaps not ever. Certainly not while her relationship with Les was tenuous. But at least Jayne would understand why Mo no longer felt at ease around her. Then again, telling her would probably increase the awkwardness between them. Best to keep quiet about it, so only one of them was acting like a moron.
What was Jayne’s question again? Oh, yeah. “The same. But I won’t be rude to her or anything like that. I’m glad Papa and I had a talk, because I won’t feel like I have to force myself to flutter around her during the festival.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t have expected that, even if you hadn’t talked. He understands how difficult it is for you. It must have been difficult for him to take the step of...dating someone.”
Mo hadn’t thought about that. When Peggy had caught his eye, had he felt as if he was betraying Mama? Had he agonized, gone to the crypt, wondered what Mama would want for him? Would she want him to remain alone for the rest of his life? Probably not. But that didn’t mean Mo could easily accept Peggy, not with Mama’s death still preying on her conscience during weak moments.
She slowly exhaled, then tensed and used every bit of willpower she had to not flinch away when she felt the warmth of Jayne’s hand on her arm. But it was too late. Jayne quickly lifted her hand and straightened in her seat.
Argamon! She’d noticed. Mo wanted to bash the nav panel in frustration. It wasn’t fair that Jayne didn’t know what was going on! Now she’d think Mo hated her, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Could Mo make things any worse? She was a complete idiot at relationships. Fortunately she was a Chosen. Without the Chosen Council, she’d have spent
her life alone because she would have botched every attempt to date anyone. As it was, she was making life a misery for her two Chosens.
This couldn’t go on. Something had to give. But what?
*****
Jayne draped a sheet over the canvas and led Lesley and Mo into the living room. Her two Chosens had praised her work, pointed out little details, and asked questions, but all in the name of politeness. They were distracted, indifferent, going through the motions. If she didn’t suspect that their behaviour had nothing to do with her painting, she’d be crushed. They’d made polite noises about her cooking, too; in fact, her guests had been the epitome of graciousness all evening. She felt like a distant relative they visited on occasion out of obligation, where they sipped tziva, made small talk, and surreptitiously checked the time every chance they had. How long had they agreed to stay to be polite? Two hours? If so, they’d soon make their move.
“Would you like another tziva?” She could see the hesitation in their eyes. As usual lately, Mo looked to Lesley. Why? She’d never had a problem making decisions on her own, or speaking her mind. Why was she suddenly worried that she’d say the wrong thing?
“Sure,” Lesley said, surprising Jayne. Maybe they’d decided on three hours.
“Why don’t you sit in here and I’ll bring it through when it’s ready.” Jayne escaped to the kitchen, relieved to have a few minutes on her own and sure they felt the same. Nothing made sense. Every time she saw them, her confusion deepened. Jayne desperately wanted to know if they were too wrapped up with themselves to worry about her right now, or if she was somehow part of their problem.
And what about Mo? They’d had a comfortable friendship, but now Mo was stiff and quiet around her, and she’d almost recoiled when Jayne had touched her in the aviacraft. Jayne leaned against the counter and threw her hands in the air. What had she done? For a panicked moment, she’d wondered if Mo couldn’t relax around her anymore because she’d let her feelings for Mo show, and if that also accounted for Lesley’s indifference toward her. But Jayne had been careful, and it wouldn’t explain why their behaviour toward each other had changed.
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