Universal Alien (44 page)

M
ARGIE TOOK ME
up to their private quarters. “Let's take care of you first, since your little one's still asleep.”

Laid Jamie on the bed and she stayed asleep. Put my purse next to her, then risked a look in the mirror. Yeah, this dress needed dry cleaning. And a miracle.

Margie rummaged around in her closet. “Do you want to stick with blue?”

“I don't care. Someone cares, but I don't.”

She laughed. “Yes, public life has its restrictions.” She came out with several cute, sleeveless dresses. “I think these will fit you and should be complimentary to your figure and complexion.”

“One can hope, right?”

Margie put them up to me and we both ultimately decided that the black and white one—with a white silhouette in front and back and black down the sides—was the likely winner. “It's a little formal for midday, but then your people are formal, so it fits.”

Hoped the dress itself would fit—this style was attractive and slimming, and the fabric was comfortable.

She helped me out of the blue dress and while I got into the black and white one, which zipped on the side, Margie trotted off. She returned as I was checking my look in the mirror with my blue dress in a nice bag in one hand and a pretty, light pink little girl's dress in the other. It was a dress I recognized.

“All three of my girls wore this,” she said as she put the bag next to my purse. “It was a present for our first daughter and we've held onto it.”

“Are you sure you want Jamie in something that's sort of a family heirloom?” Tried to keep my tone neutral—in my world Margie had given this dress to Jamie, not because she'd ruined her own but because we were like family and Jamie was the next little girl in line for it. “I mean, obviously, we'll return it when we're home.”

She shook her head. “If it fits her, keep it. Use it if you have more little girls. Save it if you don't. I'll get it back from you when my first granddaughter arrives.” She smiled at me. “Because that's what friends do for each other.”

Didn't think about it, I just hugged her. “Thank you.”

She hugged me back. “I'm sorry for all the hurt feelings and upsets and everything else. Sorrier still that we didn't ask how you were feeling—you took a nasty spill.”

“I did,” I said as we let go. “And I do have a concussion. So, just in case I seem flaky or like I've forgotten things, it's likely because of that.” Had to work under the idea that Martini was right and sometime soon I was going to get zapped back into my world. And that meant I had to set things up right for my CA. “But I just want you to know how much this means to me—us making up and hopefully becoming friends, your generosity, and all that.”

She smiled. “Being friends is much more pleasant than being enemies, I agree. And, as a friend, if you have any Wife of the Big Man questions, I'd be more than happy to help.”

“Thank you. My mom is great, but she's not really a politician.”

“Oh, she is in her own way. Exactly the way you were just a little while ago. However, sometimes the softer touch is needed, and I'm happy to help you with that where I can and as you need it.”

“Believe me, I'll take you up on that offer. And if it seems like I forgot, remind me that it's the concussion talking.”

She laughed. “I will do.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Went to my purse and took out the present. “We really did hunt for this. I hope you like it, but you're under no obligation to. And if you hate it, I won't be hurt. Much.”

Margie laughed, sat on the edge of the bed, and opened the box. She stared at the crystal for a few long moments. “It's absolutely beautiful,” she said finally. “I've never seen anything quite like it, so delicate but with so much . . . depth.”

“Sadly, you won't again. It was a one-of-a-kind in the first place, and unfortunately, the artist has passed away.”

“And you still gave it to me, despite everything.” She put it down carefully in the box, got up, and hugged me again. “I'm going to hang it up in our home in Sydney, if that's alright with you. I can enjoy it more there.”

“Wherever you want to hang it is fine with me.” But I couldn't help but grin—Sydney was where this piece hung in my world.

Jamie woke up and I cuddled her. She wasn't crying now and didn't seem as desolate as she had been, which was a relief. Margie hugged her, too. “I'm sorry I was a mean lady. Can I make it up to you with a dress that's not as pretty as yours but that means much to me?”

Jamie nodded and I got her out of her dress and put it in our dirty clothes bag while Margie helped her into the other dress. “Look, Mommy! It fits me just right!”

“It does, baby, and you look absolutely beautiful, just like always.”

Margie wet a washcloth and we wiped Jamie's face, then I combed her hair, and she was ready to go. “Are Grandma and Grandpa here?” she asked as we headed for the door, her carrying the dirty clothes, me with my purse, and Margie carefully holding her gift.

“They should be, yes.”

“Yay! I can't wait to show them this dress!”

Sure enough, when we rejoined the others, Mom and Dad were there. They both hugged me and Jamie, then Dad picked her up and she started to prattle on about her dress and share cake sadness with him.

“Let's get another piece,” Dad said. “I'll carry it and we'll be very careful.” They wandered happily off.

The food had been brought inside—A-Cs around meant everything happened fast—and the large dining room was where everyone was now. Things seemed far more relaxed and informal than they had. The press corps was in attendance, without cameras, so most of them were being forced to take notes. Each one had at least one A-C with them, most had two.

The two journalists who were with Martini and Tony were the ones Richard had identified as Mr. Joel Oliver and Bruce Jenkins. Decided my not hanging out there was probably in everyone's best interests, since these guys knew my CA well.

Margie steered us toward the Beauty Queen Contingent, which was fine with me. We ended up with a girl's table, which was much more fun, and we were basically ignored by the press, which was wonderful.

Amadhia and Aaron did some songs, and they were well received. There was talk of them recording in Sydney, since they were here. Charles made arrangements to fly Aaron's band out, and Tony suggested a free concert as a way to show both countries were pals again. Calls and arrangements were made.

“Stay in Australia a few days,” Margie said as the afternoon wound down and we were starting to make noises about leaving. “At least until the concert. Really see at least some of our country. We'll be happy to show you around or just let you investigate on your own.”

“We'd like that.” I would, for sure, and it seemed politically wise.

“Jeff isn't needed at home,” Mom, who'd joined us at the Girl's Table an hour or so prior, said. “I think it might be good for all of you, kitten.”

“Then we'll do that. We can stay at Sydney Base, we're already set up there.”

“Wonderful!” Margie beamed. “I'll set up a few dinners and luncheons. Not too many, but enough so that you can really get to know the other movers and shakers here.”

Plan agreed to, we headed for our massive fleet of vehicles. Mom and Dad went with me, Martini, Charles, and Jamie this time, though Len and Kyle were still driving.

Jamie fell asleep within a minute of being in the car, snuggled next to Dad.

“What did you get from Jamie?” Mom asked Martini.

“She thinks something's happened on . . . the other side.” He took a deep breath. “And she's afraid that our Kitty will never be coming home.”

Mom nodded. “I figured it was something like that when James called.” She looked stricken for a moment, then turned to me. “How are you doing?”

“I'm not sure. I guess I don't believe there's no hope yet. The situation with Tony and Margie looked hopeless, but we worked it out. Maybe things just look bad there right now, but it'll all work out in the end.”

Mom looked at Charles, then at Martini. “And, if you can't go home—if we wait a reasonable amount of time and you're still here, then what?”

“Then she divorces me and marries Chuck.” Martini said this as if we'd all already discussed it and it was a done deal. Knew Len was listening because the car jerked a little.

“Excuse me?”

“You'll have to,” he said. “Trust me.”

“Ah, Jeff,” Dad said, “looking at everyone's expressions in the car, we'd all like an explanation. I realize that this Kitty isn't ‘yours' as we're all used to, but if she's going to remain here, then she's still our daughter, still Jamie's mother, and still your wife.”

Martini sighed. “But this Kitty doesn't love me. She likes me and,” he smiled at me, “she thinks I'm hot. But love? She loves Chuck.”

“She loves me in another universe,” Charles pointed out.

“But you're the same guy,” Martini said patiently. “You've been in love with Kitty most of your life. And Naomi's gone. Maybe . . . maybe this Kitty is here to fix that.”

Everyone stared at him. Charles shook his head. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jeff?”

Martini made the exasperation sound. “If this was
my
Kitty? I'd kill you before I let you have her. Unless she wanted you more than she wants me. And she does. And she's not my Kitty.”

“Jeff, I realize you're being, like, the King of Chivalry, but I can't even imagine what this would do to your career. Or to those who don't know what's really going on. Or even those who do. I'm not saying that I'm in love with you, because I'm not. But this isn't my Charles, either, and you've both made that clear. I don't understand why you're so insistent that we don't even, well, try.”

Martini sighed. “Because, in exactly nine months, the entire world will know that you and Chuck have been having that torrid affair all the papers say you are.”

“U
H, EXCUSE ME?”

Martini heaved a bigger sigh. “Kitty, you're pregnant. Congratulations, by the way. No idea what the sex is yet, but I'll know in a few months.”

The entire car was silent for a few very long seconds. “How do you know?” I asked finally.

“I told you I can read my Kitty's mind, right?”

“Yes. And you said that I'm enough like her that you can do it with me, too.”

“Well, I can see her internally, if I'm concentrating hard enough. I tried, to see if I could maybe see her through you. Instead, I saw you. Inside you.”

“You knew when our Kitty was pregnant with Jamie,” Charles said. “She told me you knew almost immediately.”

“Yes. It's a change, a big change, in a woman's body.” He smiled at me. “But you came like that. So the baby that comes is going to be your child with Chuck, your Chuck. And it's likely to look like his child, not mine, because you're both humans.”

“Human genetics rule the outside,” Kyle said from the front seat. “A-C genetics rule the inside. For hybrids, I mean.”

“Oh. Wow. Uh . . .” Looked at Mom. “I don't know what to do.”

She nodded. “We do nothing right now, other than rejoice that you're not able to drink alcohol with the A-Cs anyway. We don't share that you're pregnant, we don't race to divorce court, and we don't admit that anything's wrong.”

“For how long?” Martini asked. “I wouldn't be worried, but Jamie . . .”

“Jamie is a little girl,” Mom said firmly. “A talented and amazing little girl, but a little girl nonetheless. As adults, we need to listen to her concerns, do what we can, but also accept that what seems like the end of the world to a child is not the same as the actual, real end of the world.”

Dad smiled at me. “You saved the day here, so James tells me. When it looked like everything would be disastrous. I'm willing to have faith that our Kitty will do the same.”

Leaned against Martini. “I hope you're all right.”

Staying here wasn't the issue. Never seeing my children again was the issue. Not seeing my Charles again. Leaving Dad alone without me to take care of him. And so many other things.

We reached Sydney Base and went to our rooms. Mom and Dad were going to stay in Australia with us—the President agreed that ensuring our relationship with the PM couple remained strong was vital, and he also wanted Mom here to handle any issues with the actions Australia was going to take against Club 51.

“Do you want to get dinner in the commissary?” Martini asked me, after I'd changed out of Margie's dress and into the standard wear to match the Beauty Queens. Would have preferred jeans, but I had to represent while we were here officially as Mr. and Mrs. Vice President.

“Honestly? No. I'd like to go out. This is my city half the year.”

He nodded. “Then we'll go out. You want Jamie with us or with your parents?”

“Whichever will make her feel the most normal.”

“We'll leave her with your parents, then.”

We checked with them and they were fine with keeping Jamie. Who hugged me. “I do love you, Mommy, you know that, right?”

Hugged her tightly. “Yes, I do. And I love you, too. So very much. And if your real Mommy can't come back, then I'll do everything to be as much like her as I can be.”

Jamie shook her head. “You just need to be you.”

Kissed her head. “That's good advice for everyone, Jamie-Kat.” Hugged her tightly again, then did the same with Mom and Dad before we left and headed to the ground level. Len and Kyle were waiting for us. “You two are coming?”

“You two are going by car, meaning Len's driving and I'm the muscle.”

“And Mister Buchanan's lurking somewhere,” Len added with a grin.

“Works for me.”

We got in the car. “Want to see where you live?” Martini asked me softly.

“Yeah.” Gave the address and directions to Len.

While we drove there, both Martini and I looked out the windows. “It's a beautiful city. I can see why you like living here.”

“I like the people. So much.”

“If you divorce me, I'm sure you two will end up here, just for the sake of convenience and to avoid the media frenzy.”

Took his hand in mine. “Stop saying that. Stop assuming that she and I won't be able to go home.”

He squeezed my hand but let it go. “I have to be prepared for the . . . worst.”

“There's no guarantee the baby will look like Charles. Jamie is our third and she looks exactly like me.”

“It will be easier for you, Chuck, me, and the child if you're married to him.”

“Jamie needs her mother as well as her father.”

“Joint custody.”

“Wow, are you always this fatalistic? Dinner's going to be a blast.”

He laughed. “Sorry. I'm just trying to accept that the life I thought I was going to have isn't going to really happen.” He sighed. “Chuck's been dealing with this for a year and a half. I've tried to help him. But some of this kind of pain and acceptance you just have to go through alone.”

“Maybe. But only if you insist on it.”

We were quiet for the rest of the ride to our house. My house. Not our house. Didn't know how to think of it. Kyle put music on. The Neon Trees' “Living in Another World” came on. Refused to let tears come. Held out until Paul McCartney and Wings' “Just Another Day” hit the airwaves. But I blinked the tears away. Martini had been the one telling me to have hope. If he didn't have any, why should I?

More songs and more roads and finally we were on the street where I lived as Gerry Rafferty's “Baker Street” came on. But we didn't live on Baker Street. And we didn't live here, not in this world. However, this album was the one I listened to whenever I was down. For whatever reason, this album, more than any other, spoke to me when I needed it to.

“Gated community of one,” Kyle said, whistling, as we idled, parked across the street. “Nice.”

“You live in that embassy and you're impressed by this?”

He grinned at me over his shoulder. “I'm easily impressed by wealth, Kitty, what can I say?”

“You should have turned pro.”

He laughed. “What we do with Centaurion and the C.I.A. is so much better. And so much more important.”

“You want to get out?” Martini asked me.

“Maybe. But, Kyle, can we just hear this album, not a mix?”

“Sure, Kitty, whatever you want. Straight or mixed up within the album?”

“Oh, we can keep ourselves guessing a bit. Surprise me and mix the album up.” Why not? Things were mixed up, after all.

The song ended and “Right Down the Line” began. Let Rafferty's soothing voice and music relax me. “I can't wait for Amadhia to record. Her voice can make everything right, even when it's all wrong.”

Martini took my hand in his again. “You changed her life. And Aaron's. No matter what else you did, and you did a lot, you've made the difference in the lives of two people who deserved it.”

“Most people deserve to be happy.”

He kissed my cheek. “True. And you deserve to be happy, too.”

“You're right. You and Charles both deserve to be happy, too. You know, he said that he thought his role in this world was maybe to be the guy who's never happy. I don't believe that. And I don't believe that you're supposed to take that role and be the unhappy person, either.”

“There's only one you.”

“No. Actually, there's at least two mes. And if there's really a multiverse out there, then there are probably a lot of mes. And a lot of yous.”

“But we only know the life we have, baby.” As he said this, “Stealin' Time” came on. Chose to take it as a sign. I wasn't going to be here for long, so I should enjoy the time with these people and this world that I had.

“True enough. Len, let's go. Use GPS or whatever and find us a nice restaurant.”

“You don't want to pick?” Martini asked.

I smiled up at him. “No. I've never been here before.”