by Tasha Black
“You’re an alien,” she said, shaking her head.
He nodded back. This was the trouble. She did not want to marry an alien.
“So how do you know the right thing to say?” she asked, plaintively.
“I don’t understand,” he said, wishing he knew the reason for her distress.
“How do you know what I want to hear?” she asked.
“I don’t,” he replied sadly.
“No, no, you don’t understand,” she said. “I mean you are saying all the things I want to hear. It just seems that you shouldn’t be able to do that.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because you’re not human,” she replied.
“But I am,” he replied. “Flesh and blood, just like you.”
“It’s not the same,” she said. “That’s not what being human is all about.”
“Then what does it mean to be human?” he asked her.
“Well,” she said, considering. “It means to be a person - from Earth, for starters.”
She seemed unsure what to say next.
“It appears from my small knowledge of your culture that to ‘be human’ is to be aware of oneself, to understand how one’s actions will impact others, to feel joy and pain, and to make mistakes and to try to right them. Have I not understood properly?”
“Well, that’s another way the word is used, yes,” she said.
“I saw footage of the beautiful Koko, who uses her hands to speak with her mother and who loves her small cat friend,” he told her.
“Koko…? You mean the gorilla that speaks sign language?” Posey asked thoughtfully.
“Koko speaks two thousand words and recognizes herself in a mirror and is said to be nearly human. Posey, I speak over forty thousand words. And I recognize my own mistakes and wish to make them right,” he told her, reaching for her warm hand.
She let him take it.
“I’m sorry that I made you unhappy by sharing your thoughts today. I did not know it was bad manners. I won’t do it again unless you allow it,” he told her, reveling in the pleasure that even this slight contact with her brought to him.
She looked down to where his hand enveloped her smaller one and he wondered if she felt that shiver of pleasure too.
“I promise you that I will learn to be an Earth man and fulfill your dream of what a mate should be. But I am already human, my love. I know it because of how I feel when you are near.”
She looked up at him again, her dark eyes luminous.
It was bad manners not to ask first, but Bond kissed her anyway.
16
Posey
Posey had convinced herself that she could resist this attraction. She’d told herself that their earlier encounter had been the result of adrenaline from the attack, or a particularly unlucky case of what Georgia would have laughingly called “insta-lust.”
But this was different, this connection with a man who saw everything in the world from a different perspective, who had superpowers and a body lab-grown to perfection.
Food labels, flu shots and even school crossing guards set off Posey’s conspiracy warning bells.
So why did the touch of Bond’s hand make her forget her fears and suspicions?
He was going to kiss her now - he was definitely going to kiss her.
And she was definitely going to let him.
His lips brushed hers gently, the slight friction sending a rush of excitement through her chest.
He cupped her cheek.
She sighed against his mouth and he slid his hand up to wrap his fingers in her hair.
Posey ached inside, her whole body an empty vessel begging to be filled by Bond.
He tugged on her hair and ran his tongue lightly against her lips.
Instinctively she parted them, and he stroked her tongue with his. He tasted like sunlight.
Bond let go of her hair to rest one hand on her bed, then eased her gently down until she lay, hair splayed on the pillow, and he lowered himself beside her.
Posey’s heart beat a mile a minute. She could feel her nipples pressing against the thin cotton of her pajamas, eager for his touch.
He stopped kissing her.
“Beautiful woman,” he praised her.
She looked up at him wordlessly, her whole body buffeted in a tornado of need, not even sure what she wanted him to do next.
“Sleep, my angel, I will hold you,” he whispered, and wrapped his arms around her, curling his body to spoon hers.
She could feel the heat of his muscled body all around her, the throb of his rigid cock against her hip perfectly matching the pulse of her hungry sex.
But he merely nuzzled her hair, sending shivers of desire down her spine, and then relaxed, seeming to go to sleep in a matter of seconds.
Posey wanted nothing more than to scream in frustrated despair.
But this was what she had wanted, to resist, to refrain.
Slowly, she began to calm down by forcing herself to focus on the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his arms, the cool air of the room.
After a long time, she drifted to sleep.
17
Posey
Posey woke up to the sight of the shining lake, frosted pink in the sunrise. It was a beautiful view, but there was something stark about it too.
She shivered and reached for Bond’s warm arms, but he had gone.
Trying not to dwell on the fact that his absence disappointed her, Posey hopped out of bed and hit the shower.
Under the pounding water she tried to reprimand herself.
Posey, she told herself sternly, you are not a hormone crazed teenager. He’s good-looking and articulate, but that doesn’t mean you have to throw yourself at him. You do not want to be an alien bride. You want to be a business woman. Try and keep that in mind.
But he’s SO HOT. And he makes me think about the world differently, a rebellious side of her argued.
You shouldn’t need a guy to think deep philosophical thoughts, she told herself, squelching further conversation by turning off the water and dressing quickly, studiously avoiding the cocoa butter lotion on the counter.
By the time she arrived in the kitchen, she had almost pulled herself together.
“Posey, great, here’s your outfit,” Dr. Bhimani said, handing her another white cotton dress, similar to the one from yesterday.
“What’s this?” Posey asked.
“We’re going to town, we’re going to establish the organization,” the older woman said with a smile.
Oh, right, the religious thing.
“What are we going to tell people we are?” she asked.
“Mennonites,” Georgia announced as she entered the room. Her voice had a happy in charge tone.
“Is that like Amish?” Posey asked.
“Common mistake,” Georgia said crisply. “The Amish are the Old Mennonite and a closed society, whereas the Mennonite and the off-shoot to which we belong, are an open Anabaptist group. Both religions began in the early sixteen hundreds when—”
“—Wait,” Posey interjected. “I think I’m going to need some coffee first.”
“Exactly,” Georgia winked.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that all the minute details that make up this particular religion, which is kind of similar to but not the same as one that most people think they understand, are so boring that no one will ask follow-up questions,” Georgia said in a pleased way. “It’s a perfect cover.”
“That’s brilliant,” Posey admitted.
Georgia shrugged, but her smile broadened.
“Where’s Rima?” Posey asked.
“She went for a walk,” Dr. Bhimani said as she poured out a mug of steaming coffee and handed it to Posey.
“Oh god, whose turn is it to call the ambulance?” Posey asked, curling her hands around the fragrant cup.
“What on earth are you talking about?” Dr. Bhimani asked.
“Oh she�
��s just kidding,” Posey said. “Rima sometimes seems like a magnet for tripping hazards.”
“Maybe they’re a magnet for me,” Rima said, walking in and rubbing her hands together. “Do you have our dresses, Mom?”
“Yes, Rima, yours is on your bed,” her mother replied.
“Let’s do this,” Rima announced.
Posey wasn’t sure but she thought maybe there was something a little too bright in Rima’s tone.
They were all scrambling down the stairs before she could worry too much about it.
Posey dashed into her room and changed quickly, wondering, not for the first time, if the curved glass wall of the bedroom was really one-way. She always had the distinct feeling of being observed when she stood in front of it. But that was silly, of course.
She pulled the most modest looking sweater she owned out of her suitcase and pulled it on, hoping it would be okay to wear something over the dress, since it was colder out there than it had been yesterday.
Back in the living room she waited for Rima and Posey and wondered what the boys were up to.
No one seemed to have noticed that Bond had snuck upstairs last night. Which was lucky. Georgia would certainly never let her hear the end of it if she found out.
Rima came out of her room, pulling on a grandmotherly cardigan.
“Ready?” Georgia asked. She had her snug Rag & Bone jean jacket on top of her dress.
“Seriously?” Posey asked.
“What?” Georgia asked, flipping her hair and heading for the stairs.
“We look like an episode of Little House on the Prairie and you look like you just escaped a perfume commercial,” Posey huffed.
Rima’s giggle echoed in the stairway.
“It’s a jean jacket, Posey,” Georgia sniffed, but the corners of her lips were turned up slightly, like she had enjoyed the compliment.
“Ready, girls?” Dr. Bhimani asked.
They all headed out and piled into the Bhimanis’ station wagon. It was so old that Posey wondered if it would even start, but the engine roared to life, and she watched the boxwood hedge fly past as they took the winding road back to the little town.
“Where are the boys?” Georgia asked.
“They went for a run earlier, they’re going to meet us in town,” Dr. Bhimani explained.
Posey felt her cheeks get warm thinking about Bond.
Rima gave her a shy smile and Posey reached over to squeeze Rima’s hand in her own.
“Get a room, you two,” Georgia smirked from the front passenger seat.
“Aww, she’s jealous,” Posey teased, immediately wrapping an arm around the seat to give Georgia the best bear hug she could muster in the circumstances.
Georgia laughed, but she hugged Posey’s arm back.
Dr. Bhimani shook her head and rolled her eyes, but Posey could tell she was enjoying their high spirits.
Good coffee, good friends…
So long as they managed a trip to town without getting shot at again, this might shape up to be a great morning.
18
Posey
Posey stared at the quaintness of the town as they pulled up at a parking meter. Dr. Bhimani dug some change out of the console as the girls piled out.
The town looked different by day, greener and more cheerful. The faded paint on the storefronts lent the whole scene an air of sepia-toned magic.
“Where are we going?” Rima asked.
“Oh, you have to ask?” Dr. Bhimani said, raising an eyebrow.
“No, god, mom, no” Rima wailed, rolling her eyes.
“Yes,” Dr. Bhimani picked up the pace.
“Where are we going?” Georgia asked.
“The post office,” Rima said wearily.
“Yes, I need some stamps,” Dr. Bhimani said with a twinkle in her eye.
Posey kept her mouth shut and noticed the cute road names. They were walking on Jupiter Avenue, which seemed to be the main street in the town. Dr. Bhimani briskly turned left and they all trailed behind her onto Pluto Place, a narrow walkway which would hardly qualify as a bicycle path.
The Stargazer, PA post office was at the center of Pluto Place, flanked by an ancient rhododendron grove on one side and a futuristic-looking sculpture on the other.
Opposite the post office, the town green was no more than a large cobblestone circle surrounded by trees, with a bird poop-speckled clock tower as the focal point.
They passed another poster for the upcoming Fall Festival - Posey made a mental note to ask Rima about it later - and stepped into the post office. A vent in the vestibule blew stale, sauna-hot air on them as they entered. An old radio on the counter played a tinny, marching band-type song - like something Bert would listen to when he wasn’t busy dealing with Ernie’s bullshit.
“Maya,” squealed the small blonde woman behind the counter.
“Hi, Lainey,” Dr. Bhimani said.
“Is that little Rima?” the woman asked.
Rima froze as if the tiny postal officer had been the Medusa.
“Yes,” Dr. Bhimani said.
“I can’t believe it. You were no bigger than a loaf of bread the first time I saw you,” the woman enthused.
Rima smiled and nodded once, as if to acknowledge whatever level of closeness was appropriate for someone who had known her long enough to think of her size in the context of bakery items.
“You know, speaking of babies, did you hear about Melissa Brady?” Lainey asked.
Dr. Bhimani shook her head.
“Well, please don’t repeat it, I’ll deny I ever told you, but…” Lainey lowered her voice to a loud stage whisper. “Melissa’s pregnant again.”
“No,” Dr. Bhimani said, but her eyes sparkled.
“Six kids already, but she’s getting the Target bulletin with the duckies on the front again. Those bulletin people are never wrong. Elaine Johnson didn’t believe me after the trouble she had getting knocked up with her first one, but I cried over her ducky circular when it came, and sure enough… Poof! She was pregnant.”
“Wow,” Dr. Bhimani said.
Lainey nodded back sagely.
“But why am I talking about that? Look at your little girl. And are these your friends, Rima? I can’t get over it, honey, I just can’t. And you all have on matching dresses, is that not the cutest thing? Meryl!” she yelled suddenly. “Meryl, get out here and look at Maya’s little girl and her friends being triplets.”
Meryl did not come.
Posey wondered if Meryl was summoned out to marvel over the ordinary too often to be bothered.
“Oh, Lainey, no,” Dr. Bhimani whispered, and winced a little as if the marching band on the radio had played a sour note.
Lainey leaned across the counter, a true accomplishment at her small height. Thirst for whatever had made Dr. Bhimani whisper was written all over her face.
“Lainey, Rima has found religion. She and her friends are dressed in white as an expression of their beliefs,” Dr. Bhimani whispered.
Lainey’s nostrils actually flared with pleasure at the juiciness of this information.
“My word,” she breathed. “May I ask which religion?”
“We’re Mennonites, Miss Sanders,” Rima said politely.
Lainey merely nodded, her expression lit from within with benevolent satisfaction, as if she had just baptized Rima herself.
“No more cell phones, huh?” she asked Rima conspiratorially. “But can you still accept a ride in a car? Or—oh! Please tell me you have a horse buggy out front!”
“Oh, no, Lainey, honey, that’s Amish, not Mennonite, it’s a common mistake,” Dr. Bhimani said.
“What’s the difference?” Lainey asked doubtfully.
“That’s an excellent question,” Georgia said, stepping forward. “As a matter of fact, both religions began in the sixteen hundreds and are called Anabaptist. But where the Amish are a closed religion—”
“—Are they Amish too?” Lainey interrupted Georgia to ask.
> Posey turned to where Lainey was pointing as the boys strolled in.
Each man was attractive, but together like that, moving as a wedge of dark hair, wide shoulders and white shirts, they seemed like they should be walking in slow motion in the background of a yogurt commercial.
“Mennonite,” Georgia repeated, but no one was listening. Even Georgia’s mouth hung open slightly as she gazed at the hunky trio.
“Dr. Bhimani, may we help you with your task?” Rocky asked politely.
“That’s very kind of you, yes, we’ll go to the grocery store after this and you boys can help us load up the car,” Dr. Bhimani smiled. “Just a roll of stamps, please, Lainey.”
Lainey scurried back to get the stamps.
“Go on to the store, kids, I’ll be there,” Dr. Bhimani told them.
Posey followed the others outside.
Blinking in the sunlight, she looked around the square. A few passers-by were glancing at them. A little girl wearing a white skirt looked at Posey and back at her own little skirt and smiled, like she was part of a club.
Posey smiled back.
Bond stepped over to her and took her hand. As usual, she felt a little shiver of pleasure at his touch.
“You like children?” he asked her.
She nodded.
“I have never met one,” Bond admitted. “But I enjoyed learning about them.”
“Are there not any children on Aerie?” Posey asked.
“It’s not the same,” Bond said. “I’ll tell you all about it one day.”
The others were already crossing the square, following the path under the trees.
“Let’s catch up,” Posey said.
Bond smiled down at her and they picked up the pace.
19
Bond
Bond held Posey’s hand in his. He enjoyed the cool breeze, the bright colors of the leaves swirling from the trees, the busy hum of the minds around them.
On the other side of the small grove, they met with their companions again and crossed the street to the small grocery store.