Have Tail, Will Travel

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Have Tail, Will Travel Page 1

by Nancey Cummings




  Have Tail, Will Travel

  Celestial Mates

  Nancey Cummings

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Additional Books

  About the Author

  Copywrite

  Chapter One

  Kalini

  Kalini checked her lipstick for the third and final time before entering the restaurant.

  It’s just drinks. No big thing. Just drinks.

  Sure. Just drinks with Roger, the guy she’d been messaging with non-stop for two weeks. A web-based dating service brought them together, but that wasn’t weird. Most people met online nowadays, and most people used some type of dating app or service. The algorithm suggested she and Roger would be a good match, but she never really put much stock into all that. After all, it was just a program cobbling together personality types. Still, he had an attractive picture, and his profile indicated that they shared mutual goals: family, stability, and a partner ready for the long term.

  He looked great on paper. Tonight, she’d find out if he was really as fantastic as the profile made him out to be and if they had any chemistry.

  Kal knew what she wanted. Forever, basically. The forever kind of love she saw in the movies. He didn’t have to sweep her off her feet or make her heart race. She had passion before, and passion never lasted. She wanted steadfast. She wanted dependable. She wanted forever.

  Not much for a girl to ask, right?

  Her work hours made having a social life difficult. Dating? So not happening, which is why Kal leaned on the dating service. She had zero interest in the kind of men found in a bar or club, and her chaotic work schedule barred her from reliable attending social functions. How many dinner parties and get-togethers had she missed because of work obligations? Enough that the dinner party invitations stopped arriving.

  She spotted him at a table, just as good-looking as his picture. Better looking, even, with his gray suit and coiffed blond hair. Kal had never really gone for blonds, but she was open to exploration.

  Roger must have recognized her immediately. His lips pinched together in a tight smile.

  Did her appearance disappoint him? Kal fought the urge to tug down the hemline of her dress, knowing full well it fit perfectly and covered everything. Her photo had been honest and showed her entire figure, thick thighs and big bum included.

  She joined him at the table, sitting opposite. A glass of water already waited.

  “Hi. Sorry I’m late. I got caught in traffic,” she said. “It’s great to finally meet you in person.”

  “Same. You look, wow. Just wow.” His gaze swept over her, lingering for a moment on the neckline of her little black dress but drifted away to a point over her shoulder.

  Maybe the little black dress wasn’t as perfect as she thought. A few years old, Kal always considered them timeless and above fickle fashion trends, but if it couldn’t keep her date’s eyes on her, then maybe she should retire the dress.

  Kal picked up the glass. Pink lipstick smeared the rim.

  Ugh.

  “This glass is dirty,” she said, setting it down in disgust. She waved to get a waiter’s attention and asked for a new glass. “Crazy, huh?” She asked as the waiter took the dirty glass away. “Have you been here before?”

  “A few times,” he said.

  “What’s going on here?” a woman asked, standing behind Kal.

  “Honey,” Roger said, a thousand-watt smile on his face. “This is Kalini, the woman I told you about from work. Kal, this is Tammy, my wife. She was passing by and decided to stop in. Unexpectedly.”

  The woman from work? His wife!

  Kal twisted in her seat, to find Tammy frowning at her. Shame flooded Kal. Roger lied to her and made her into the Other Woman.

  She stood up quickly. “So sorry. I thought Roger was alone.” And single. And not a cheater.

  “My place setting and glass of water weren’t a clue?” Tammy gave a derisive laugh. “What happened to my glass of water?”

  “Kalini knocked it over,” Roger said quickly.

  “But the table’s not wet?” Tammy asked.

  “She knocked it onto the floor.”

  Kal opened her mouth to protest but clamped it shut when Roger mouthed, “Please.”

  She shouldn’t be doing him any favors. He was a liar and a philanderer. How many other women had he cheated on his wife with? She didn’t owe him anything except making a big ass scene.

  “Did you really?” Tammy turned her gaze to Kal, waiting for an explanation. Her heavily made-up eyes were tired, as if this wasn’t the first time she caught her husband having an affair with another woman, and she didn’t have the energy to go through the drama of yet another scene with the scorned woman shaming Roger and, by extension, Tammy. How many times had she unexpectedly dropped in and found him with another woman?

  How awful to be married to a man who would do that to his wife.

  “Yeah,” Kal said with a shrug. “I’m the office klutz. Anyway, I better be going. Don’t want to be late for my date tonight.”

  “Someone nice?” Tammy asked.

  “I thought so.”

  As she got up to leave, Roger snagged her wrist. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “We’ll catch up for that drink, later.”

  Kal yanked her hand back. “I don’t think so.”

  On the way out, Tammy said in a loud stage whisper, “If you had told me she looked like that, I wouldn’t have worried.”

  Shame and humiliation burned bright on her cheeks. She would never, ever flirt with a married man. She’d certainly never wear fancy new underwear and a matching bra or use her lucky lipstick.

  She walked until her embarrassment eased its grip on her heart and she noticed the pain in her feet. The new heels were definitely of the “fuck me” variety and not made for walking all night.

  New underwear and new shoes.

  Thank the stars that her parents weren’t alive to see the mess she made of dating. When Kal had been younger, her mother always offered to introduce her to find her a nice man to marry. Fresh out of college, marriage had been the furthest thing from Kal’s mind. Before she knew it, her mother succumbed to pancreatic cancer and her father followed shortly after. Heart attack.

  It still didn’t feel like they were gone. All the family she had left now were some old aunties she hadn’t seen since she was in grade school.

  Kal limped into a kebab shop, intent on drowning her sorrows with grease and shaved meat.

  “Big night?” the man behind the counter eyed her outfit.

  Kal pulled up on the neckline, no longer in the mood to display her cleavage. “Not anymore. Men are real assholes,” she said.

  “Don’t I know it.”

  She couldn’t believe she let herself get tricked by a handsome face and a few witty messages. Good on paper, lousy in person.

  This was Roger’s fault. She had no reason to beat herself up. He was the one who cheated on his wife. He was the one who tried to drag her into the muck with him. Thankfully, she avoided him and all his nonsense.

  How hard was it to find a decent man? It’s not like she had a crazy list of qualities she wanted in a partner, like supermodel good loo
ks, rich, and no kids. She didn’t care about that. All she wanted was a man who was honest, kind, intelligent, and who wanted a family as much as she did. Simple, right?

  Wrong. So, so wrong.

  It had been so much easier for her parents. Their introduction had been done the old-fashioned way: arranged through family. She felt so envious that her parents had people who loved them, knew them, and found them someone to marry. While her parents had been strangers, the families knew each other through business.

  She should have taken her mother up on the offer to make introductions. The timing hadn’t been right and, honestly, she hadn’t been interested in marriage. Now, though...

  Her parents’ deaths made her realize how much she needed family. Ironic that the event that made her ready for marriage was the same event that took away the people who would help her find a match.

  How easy would that have been? To have the people who loved her and knew her best find suitable candidates from an extended network of family friends and business contacts? They might be strangers at the first meeting, but they would be able to get to know each other before making the commitment and marrying. Sure, it might not have been instant, but she could have come to love him over time.

  Approaching her parents’ friends for advice might be better. Kal wouldn’t be surprised to learn that her mother had a short list of possible matches that she shared with her girlfriend, Mrs. Imai. She hadn’t spoken with Mrs. Imai since the funeral, but she felt sure the older woman would help if Kal asked.

  Then again, sitting in the Imais’ parlor, sipping bitter tea, nibbling on stale biscuits, listening to the ticking of their antique clocks like a countdown to the heat death of the universe...

  Maybe not. Mr. Imai would natter for hours about his clock restoration, and Mrs. Imai just liked to chinwag about the neighbor’s unruly dog. They were nice people, but Mrs. Imai and her mother forged a friendship based on a mutual love of gossip.

  She could always ask her ancient aunties.

  Ugh. She might as well hire a professional matchmaker.

  Actually, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Matchmakers were respected members of the community. They would get to know Kal, her hopes and dreams, and introduce her to someone—an unmarried someone—who wanted the same things.

  A strange dissonance of being a stranger in her own hometown rolled over her. Kal missed her parents, desperately. She never understood how much Sunday afternoons grounded her in her adult life with her father watching cricket in the lounge and her mother cooking a roast for tea. Kal would nibble on a plate of biscuits or Coronation Chicken sandwiches.

  She hated Coronation Chicken growing up. Bits of mango chutney would stick between her teeth. The mixture managed to be too sweet, fatty, and boring all at once.

  She’d give anything for the comfort of another cold sandwich with a cup of hot, over-sugared tea. Kal grinned at the memory. Her mother had a sweet tooth and cooked accordingly.

  Her phone buzzed with an incoming message.

  Sorry about tonight. Can we try again?

  Ugh. That jerk.

  Kal typed out a scathing reply, deleted it, and wrote, “No. Don’t contact me again.”

  Disgusted, she threw the phone down on the counter.

  “That the one who ruined your night?” the man behind the counter asked.

  She didn’t bother asking how he could tell. Clearly, she dressed for a date and sitting here at his counter, stuffing her face with a kebab, meant the date didn’t go as she hoped. “Turns out he was married,” she said.

  “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”

  Kal mumbled a thanks, searching for matchmakers on her phone. There was one, a well-known agency, she just couldn’t think of the name, but she saw a commercial for it once.

  Celestial Mates.

  That’s the one. The agency specialized in human-alien marriages.

  Guaranteed success, the app promised.

  Kal dated a blue guy from Fremm for a few weeks back in college, but everyone experimented with an alien at university. Experimentation was, like, the point of uni and nothing was more experimental than Comparative Biology. She certainly wasn’t against the idea of a man from another planet. She wanted a kind, loving husband, and, one day, children. Humans were genetically compatible with several species in the Interstellar Union. Honestly, she watched an action film with a handsome Gyer actor that left her craving a four-armed alien all of her own. Why limit herself to just Earth? Nothing in her list of desirable traits for a husband demanded he be human. She just wanted him to be honest, hardworking, value family, and not be a cheater.

  Was there anything to keep her on Earth? No one person or thing sprang to mind.

  How bizarre to be in the center of one of Earth’s largest cities, surrounded by people, and be utterly alone. Kal went elbow-to-elbow every day with strangers on the street, crammed into the tube during rush hour, pushed her way about a busy trading floor, lived in a small flat in an overbuilt block, but she never actually spoke to anyone. Talked to anyone. The one person she did connect with turned out disastrous.

  But did she really want to leave Earth? To give up everything and move for somebody she hadn’t met in person…

  Was she serious about finding a husband or did she want to wait and take her chances doing the same old, same old?

  She turned thirty last month. Maybe her existential angst about aging influenced the mail-order bride scheme, convincing her it was a good idea.

  No. She knew her own mind and could hardly think of a reason to stay on Earth besides her ancient aunties. Maybe her houseplants. Her university friends all drifted away into their own lives as they married and had children. Invitations for dinner and drinks dried up as their schedules filled with football practice and ballet lessons. She didn’t have any work friends to speak of as she’d rather put in long hours than go for a pint at the local pub.

  Why not, indeed?

  Kal downloaded the application, ticked off the box that said she read the terms and conditions, and filled in her details.

  Merit

  “Uncle Merit!”

  Clarity rounded the corner; her brother Dare hot on her tail. Literally.

  Merit snatched the kettle of boiling water from his nephew’s paws. Dare broke so many rules it made his head spin. No running in the house. No chasing your sister, with or without boiling water.

  How was he even going to keep these two alive when they actively tried to injure themselves?

  After inspecting Clarity and Dare for any potential scalding hot water burns, he said, “Are you trying to burn your sister?”

  “She has fleas. I’m helping her,” Dare said innocently, large amber eyes peering up and blinking slowly.

  For a moment, Merit felt his resolve soften, but he shook himself out of that. Dare was too good at manipulation. He’d wonder where Dare learned all his tricks, but Merit knew damn well that Dare learned it all from his father.

  “I do not!” Clarity shouted, scratching behind her ear. She paused, grimaced, and hid her offending hand behind her back.

  “Clarity—” he said.

  Her ears twitched, obviously itching. “Fine! I’m itchy, but it’s not fleas.”

  “Come here.” He pulled his niece into his lap and combed his claws through her dark amber hair. He found the critters he expected. “What you have is common, everyday head lice.”

  “See, fleas,” Dare crowed in triumph, tail lashing behind him.

  “Which means you have them too, Dare.” And as did he, given the way Clarity crawled into his bed whenever she had a bad dream, which meant damn near nightly. He bought her a nightlight, but that didn’t seem to help.

  He couldn’t send them to school until they were treated, and he couldn’t leave for work until he treated the entire house. He also couldn’t go to the pharmacy to pick up treatment and leave the kits home unsupervised. He’d have to ask his sister, Amity, to make the trip. She’d be more than happy t
o help, complete with the shit-eating grin and a little lecture about how a single male just couldn’t manage two kits on his own and really should think of transferring guardianship to her, for the sake of the kits.

  “Think of the kits,” she’d say.

  Bad enough he had to deal with her passive-aggressive comments about being in over his head, he didn’t need the lecture.

  Their brother, Prospect, died in an accident three months ago. Shortly after, Reason’s heart failed, leaving the kits orphans.

  Clarity and Dare lost both their parents in the span of a moon. The fact that they could function at all and find the strength for a bit of laughter astounded him.

  Merit lost not only his elder brother but his best friend. He half-expected Prospect to walk in the door one morning, ready to work as if he had been away on extended holiday and not caught in a collapsed mine shaft. Of all the ways to go on this planet, Merit would have bet good credit on a mornclaw attack or a dust storm, not a mine shaft collapse, especially considering that Prospect had no reason to be in the mines that day.

  The fact that Prospect’s body was still buried in the mine compounded Merit’s anguish. Too unstable, his body had to remain there under the rubble.

  Half the time, he wanted to dig his brother up and shake him, demanding to know what he had been doing there when the mine collapsed. The other half, he found himself glancing at his communicator to check for messages from Prospect or he’d read something that would be sure to amuse his brother. Then the reality of his brother’s absence crashed down, and his grief felt raw all over again. Every time Merit forgot that his brother was gone, it hurt twice as hard when he realized that he forgot. Not because Prospect was gone but because he forgot about his brother, even for a moment.

  “Finish your breakfast. I’ll let the school know you’re not coming in today,” he said.

  Dare and Clarity erupted with jubilation.

  “Don’t wake up your aunt! This isn’t a holiday. You’re getting a medical treatment, and then we have to wash all the bedsheets.” In addition to washing all their clothes, jackets, and hats in hot water. And spray every piece of furniture with louse-killing chemicals. His ears lay flat thinking about all the tasks involved. He’d have to contact the Watchtower and tell them not to expect him that day. “We have serious work to do.”

 

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