Aliens Are Real: Part 2 (13 page)

***

Later that night,
Honorio
and Malika were sitting on the couch together
, watching one
of the movies she had procured
.
He
reclined while
she
hunched forward next to him with her legs crossed beneath her.

Honorio
suddenly lurched forward,
and shook his head.
“Really?”

Malika
glanced over.
“What?”

Honorio cock
ed his head.
“What do you mean
‘
what?
’
”

She rolled her eyes.
“Exactly that.
What?”

Honorio scooted to the edge of the couch
,
and pointed at the screen.
“That is what.
Vampires do not sparkle.
They are predators.
They hunt, stalk
,
and kill
– they are not all
glitter
y like that
.”

Malika threw her hands up in the air.
“How do you know?
Have you
ever
met a vampire?”

Honorio rolled his eyes.
“Obviously not
,
since they are folklore made up by
irrational
human
s
.”
He glanced over at Joseph and Tyrone
,
each seated o
n chairs adjacent to the couch.

Tyrone gazed at the sc
reen,
perplexed.

Joseph stood up and walked out of the room
, then called from the kitchen.
“I think you’ve been watching too many of these movies.” He walked back into the living room
,
carrying cans of soda.

He handed one to Honorio
,
but didn’t let go right away.
“You know that T.V. rots your
human
brain, right?”

Honorio looked up at him,
yanked the can out of his hand
,
and opened it.
With a loud hiss, the
agitated
soda bubbled over the top
,
then down the sides
of its can
, dripping onto Honorio’s pants.
He jumped up
,
and held the can
away from
him
self
.
He slowly turned to face Joseph who was balled up in laughter.

Yumi walked down
stairs at that moment. Her face looked waxy, her eyes sunken
,
and her shoulders slumped slightly. Honorio almost forgot why he was angry as his attention diverted to her deteriorating health. He watched as she noticed the others in the living room. After surveying the scene, the corners of her mouth twitched up in a barely repressed smile. Honorio’s spirit lightened slightly seeing a smile on her face again.
His moment of bliss passed as Joseph jerked Honorio’s attention back to him.

“Whoops,
I must have dropped that one,
”
Joseph confessed.

“What is your problem?”
Honorio demanded.

“Lighten up man.” Joseph straightened up slightly, moving into a more defensive pose. “You are so serious all the time.
You are watching human romance movies for lightning’s
sake.”

Honorio glared at Joseph, frozen in place while inside he battled.
His first instinct was to reach out
,
and throttle
his subordinate
.
He wanted to smack the ever-
present smug look off his face. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the luxury of losing control -
especially now that the success of their mission relied on Jasmine.

At the thought of Jasmine, he deflated slightly.
He shook his head
,
and walked to the kitchen.
He grabbed a paper towel
,
and swiped at the soda on his pants.
He swiped harder than necessary,
almost as if he could rub
his frustration with that
unreasonable human girl out of his mind.

The
extended stay on earth
strained his team
, but none more than him
. If
Jasmine
and Yumi hadn’t become friends;
i
f
Jasmine
hadn’t bumbled into the mission;
i
f she hadn’t seen Tyrone transform
,
things would be different
.
Honorio shook his head.
He
had
tried to warn the stubborn girl to stay away.
She adamantly refused to leave
them
alone.

Even worse, she seemed to know the right things to say at the right moments to catch him off guard.
He didn’t like it.
She was so alien to him, so unpredictable.

With a last swipe at his damp pants, he crumpled up the paper towel and threw it into the trash can.
He took a deep breath.
He needed to woo her.
With the new plan taking shape, she had to like the group.
He shook his head as he berated himself
,
for the tenth time
,
for not letting Yumi welcome her into their group.
Gra
nted, he didn’t know she was a c
olonel’s
daughter
back
then, but now they had to repair hurt feelings
,
and
curb
Malika’s attacks.
He
sighed
as he though
t
of the uphill battle ahead of him.

He trod back to the couch
,
and looked through the pile of DVDs in front of him.
He cringed as he read some of the titles.
Anything with Princess in the title screamed boring and cryptic in his opinion. Human mating rituals seemed excessive and confusing.
In the movies he
had
watched already, the people acted like they hated each other, said things opposite of what they felt
,
and generally wandered around oblivious to how the other person felt about them.

He preferred how things were done on his planet.

Jasmine’s dad was a flurry of stirring, mixing, baking, and generally making a big mess in the kitchen Thanksgiving morning. The night before, he had bought a large turkey, a bag of potatoes, gravy mix, boxed stuffing, cranberries, yams, a bag of green salad, and two pies. The amount of food overwhelmed her. Three people could never eat all the food he had bought, even if they had a week.

As her dad attempted to mash the potatoes, she washed the salad. A clump of steaming potatoes flew out of the bowl, and plopped into the sink beside her. She wondered again what had possessed her dad to try to go all out for the meal. It was just one stupid boy. She poked the potato in the sink, and realized it was too hard to mash.

She rolled her eyes. “Dad, you need to cook the potatoes longer before you try to mash them.”

He looked up from the bowl, both hands clutching the potato masher. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall to her right. “Our guests will be here any second. There’s no time to cook the potatoes longer.”

“Guests? Who else is coming over?”

The door bell rang.

“Can you get that? I need to keep mashing.”

Dread overwhelmed her. She didn’t want to play nice with Honorio for her dad. The thought of being nice to him, even for Yumi’s sake, drained her en
ergy. She trudged to the door,
sighed, and with resignation opened it.

She hadn’t expected to see Lieutenant Trellin on the porch. She wore a sleek dress coat and low-heeled dress shoes, had her hair down, and make-up expertly accentuated her simple beauty. Jasmine wasn’t prepared to see the feminine side of Emma. The fact that she stood on her stoop, obviously to join them in their meal, set Jasmine’s world reeling.

Emma held out a pump
kin pie and smiled at Jasmine.

Emma hesitated. “Can I come in?”

“Lt. Trellin. Uh, yeah. Come in.” Jasmine opened the door wider, and stepped to the side.

“Call me Emma, remember?” Emma stepped into the entr
y way. “Where can I put this?”
She held out the pie.

Just then, Dad called from the kitchen. “Is that you, Emma?”

Emma headed to the kitchen.
“Hi John! I brought a pumpkin pie. Where should I put it?”

Jasmine followed her, not sure what to think, do, or say
. Her dad didn’t mention inviting anyone else over for dinner.

Jasmine stopped at the doorway to the kitchen and absorbed the situation therein. It wasn’t pretty. Dad had pots and pans everywhere, he was still jabbing at the undercooked pota
toes, and the timer was beeping
.

Her dad was obviously out of his element. It was comical, how pathetic he looked holding the potato masher in one hand, and fiddling with the stove with the other to stop the timer’s racket. A pot started overflowing, and white foam flowed all over the stove. A bead of sweat dripped down Dad’s forehead, toward his left eye. He quickly wiped it on
his shoulder as best he could
.

Emma, to her credit, recognized what needed to be done quickly, and gently took the reins of Dad’s careening dinner wagon.

“Here, why don’t I take over with the potatoes, and you deal with
the pot that’s overflowing.
”

Dad gratefully relinquished the masher, and looked in the oven. As he opened the door, a black cloud billowed
out.

T
he smoke alarm
blared a moment later
.
Before anyone could react, the doorbell rang, signaling Honorio’s arrival.

Emma called calmly over her shoulder.
“Jasmine,
could you get that, sweetie?”

Jasmine turned on her heel, grateful to escape the nightmare in the kitchen. She opened the door where Honorio stood on the porch. He wore a long overcoat that partially obscured the same formal suit he had worn to the concert. He also held a bouquet of flowers.

She arched an eyebrow at him, conscious of her jeans and old sweatshirt. He paused a moment, then held the flowers out to her.

“These are for you.” He shook the bouquet.

“Uh. You
really shouldn’t have.” She didn’t move.

“We have done research on courting, and bringing flowers to a female is considered appropriate behavior.” He waved the bouquet again, looking uncomfortable.

She shook her head, and took the flowers. She used them to gesture that he should enter. She peeked outside the front door to make sure there were no witnesses to her embarrassment. An elderly neighbor stood on the sidewalk lo
oking toward
their house. The woman waved, then gave Jasmine a thumbs-up. Jasmine waved back
sheepishly, then quickly
shut
the door. She leaned against the
wall
, and tried to gather herself for the upcoming chaos.

Jasmine motioned for Honorio to follow her, and walked to the kitchen. A loud beeping still emanated from within. When Jasmine walked to the doorway, she saw that her dad had the windows open, and was fanning the smoke alarm. She noticed that Honorio was tense beside her.

“Is there a problem?” He started to step forward.

Jasmine held out the hand holding the flowers, and stopped him. “Don’t panic. Dad just burned the turkey or something.”

“I didn’t burn the turkey,
”
her dad said.
“Some of the juice boiled over, and fell on the heating element is all.”

“The meal will be wonderful.”
Emma
had the potatoes Dad had been trying to mash in a glass bowl with water, rotating in the microwave.

Honorio
brushed past Jasmine’s extended hand, carefully s
o as not to damage the flowers.
“What can I do to assist you?”

“That is so sweet. What was your name again?”

“It is – I mean – it’s Honorio
, ma’am
.”

“Honorio, why don’t you and Jasmine set the table while John and I finish here in the kitchen?”  Emma glanced at Jasmine, and noticed the flowers. “You’ll want to put those in water as soon as possible.” Emma smiled, and winked at Jasmine.

Honorio looked at Jasmine.

She stood looking at the scene in the kitchen a moment longer until she realized he was waiting for her to guide the way. “This way
.
”

She dropped the flowers on the counter, then she and Honorio loaded up with dishes. They walked to the dining room where they placed the plates, glasses and flatware in silence. When they returned to the kitchen, the flowers were in a large vase on the counter. Emma peeked at Jasmine, and smiled. She was squishing the potatoes into reasonably tempting mash. Dad was hacking the turkey into malformed slices, and placing them on a platter. The gravy was warming on the stove, and filled the room with its succulent aroma.

“There are a few things ready for the table. Could you take those out?” Emma pointed to
some cranberry jelly, a bowl of olives and a dish of stuffing that Jasmine had cooked from a box
.

Emma was obviously in charge of the situation as dad had deferred to her. It felt natural - too natural. It felt like Jasmine’s mom had stepped into the kitchen, and was conducting her magnificent
culinary opus.
The discord in this melody was Emma standing there, not Mom. She was an imposter trying to take M
om’s place.

The twisting in Jasmine’s stomach returned. While she had enjoyed the smells, and craved the succulent dishes taking shape
,
their appeal had been tarnished by the thought of this ...
woman
... attempting to replace her mother.
Her desire for food abated.
She wanted this meal to be over,
so she could
escape to her room. With her ruse as Honorio’s girlfriend so important to Yumi, she knew that she could not escape yet. She had a role to play, and helping her friend trumped all else. However, that didn’t mean she had to like it.

With the preparations finally complete, they all sat at the table. Dad and Emma each sat at an end of the table. Jasmine and Honorio sat next to each other on one side. Luscious trays piled with food covered the table while Dad’s two pies baked in the oven.

“Let’s say Grace
!
Honorio, would you do the honors?”
Jasmine’s dad said.

Jasmine looked at
her father
. They hadn’t said a prayer over a meal in years. In fact, she had no memory of prayer since Mom had died. She glanced at Dad, then at Emma. Emma smiled approvingly at Dad. Jasmine could tell they were sharing a “moment”.
Then the real horror set in – Honorio was not even from this planet. How would he know how to say Grace? Whatever would he say? She wanted to puke.