Until Again (6 page)

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Authors: Lou Aronica

BOOK: Until Again
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Plenium didn’t realize until that moment that Miea was aware of the extra guards. He’d been briefed about the overreaction at the musical performance, but he was under the impression that only Hensis and Sinica had been involved.

“Increased security for royal children when both the king and queen are away from the palace for an extended period is standard, Miea. This simply hasn’t happened since you’ve been at university. You can check the archives if you’d like. Meanwhile, I’m not going to allow you to wriggle away from the topic at hand.”

Miea smiled at him wryly. “Oh? What’s the topic at hand again?”

“The man who is stealing your heart.”

Miea’s eyes gleamed. “Ah, that again. Well, you can’t steal what someone offers willingly, Dad.”

His daughter’s response set off warring emotions. Plenium certainly wanted Miea to be happy, and he was realistic about the fact that at some point a man was going to have a prominent place in her life. At the same time, though, he’d never heard Miea admit her feelings for Dyson so nakedly before, and he found this the tiniest bit disconcerting.

“I certainly hope you’ll be less obvious with your emotions when you’re negotiating with the Thorns,” Miea said when Plenium had trouble responding.

“Don’t be overly entertained by this, Miea,” Plenium said archly. “You’ll be a parent someday too.” Then his expression softened into a smile. “Dyson really means that much to you?”

Miea’s eyes warmed. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Plenium wished this conversation was taking place in person. He longed to reach for his daughter’s hand. “Then I’m very happy for you. And Dyson is the most fortunate young man in all of Tamarisk.”

“I’ll make sure he knows that.”

“I would expect you to make sure he knows that daily. I can have Hensis remind him if it’s too much of a bother for you.”

Miea giggled, instantly reminding Plenium of the imagination games they used to play when she was younger. “That’s okay, Dad, I can handle this responsibility.”

“Do you have plans with him tonight?”

Miea leaned toward the screen. “We have plans, but he won’t tell me what they are. He’s being terribly mysterious about everything, which is not like him at all. It’s entirely possible I’m over-thinking this. The last time he seemed to have a big secret, it wound up being a special sprout of toiyabe that he’d been crossbreeding for weeks. For all I know, he’s going to take me into the forest to introduce me to some rare form of fungus.”

“Ah, young love,” Plenium said.

Miea pointed a finger. “No mocking from you, Dad. If I remember correctly, you once courted Mom over the birth of a brood of seapowets.”

Plenium feigned indignation. “That was a very tender moment.”

“As will be my fungus viewing.”

“Yes, I suppose it will be.” Plenium shook his head at the thought of the adjustments he was going to have to make in his mind if Miea and Dyson’s romance continued to develop at the level she seemed to believe it was developing.

As he considered this, an aide entered the room to let him know he was needed for some final preparations for the mission.

“I’m afraid I’m being pulled away, Miea. I’d far prefer to stay here with you discussing romance.”

“That’s okay, Dad. I’m just glad you got a chance to call before leaving.”

Miea knew very well that Plenium never would have left without checking in with her, but he understood what she was saying.

“How many extra guards are you bringing?” she said quickly, as though she thought he was about to signal off in that instant.

“We’re following standard protocol for diplomatic visits.”

“Is that enough?”

“It’s easily three times more than enough. Protocol is nothing if not overwhelmingly cautious.”

Miea nodded slowly. “Overwhelmingly cautious is good.”

“We’re taking care of ourselves, Miea.”

Miea’s eyes flicked up to catch his. “I know you are.”

“We’re going to have great stories to tell from this trip. If all goes as hoped, we’ll have a groundbreaking treaty at the end of this.”

Miea smiled, though he could tell that it was strained. “I can’t wait to brag about it to all of my friends.”

“Until again, my dear.”

“Until again, Dad.”

Plenium reached for the button to signal off the screen when Miea said, “Dad?”

“Yes, dear?”

“The extra guards truly are enough, right?”

“They truly are.”

9

Chris had no reference point for what they were about to do. He’d had his share of difficult conversations in his life. Telling five-year-old Becky she was seriously ill was by far the worst, but the day he’d been forced to fire four members of his team was deeply painful in a different way also leaving a permanent mark on his memory. However, nothing had prepared him for the talk he and Polly were about to have with Becky.

What made something that was going to be awful under any circumstances exponentially worse was the lie Chris had been reluctantly living with for the past several weeks. Just last night, after a Saturday of awkwardness and walking on eggshells around Polly, he’d hinted to Becky that everything was going to be okay. It was unlikely she’d interpreted this as meaning he was going to be moving out of the house this afternoon.

Polly wanted to tell Becky as soon as she got up. Chris insisted on waiting until they’d had breakfast. He wanted Becky to eat something first, because there was a good chance she wouldn’t want to eat anything afterward.

This was the closest he’d come to controlling circumstances since Polly had told him she wanted a divorce. That sense of control evaporated by the time he cleared the table.

“Honey, your dad and I have something to discuss with you,” Polly said as he finished loading the dishwasher.

Becky shot a look in his direction. He was sure that what she saw on his face alarmed her, but he was unprepared for the suddenness with which this conversation was beginning.

“Okay,” Becky said slowly.

Polly gestured to her daughter with a welcoming hand. “Let’s go sit in the family room.”

Chris thought there was some obvious irony in having this conversation in the “family” room. From this day forward, would the space be known as the “breaking-up-the-family” room? He followed them in, feeling lightheaded in a way that usually heralded the onset of the flu.

“Honey,” Polly started, barely waiting for him to be seated, “I know you’ve noticed that things have been tenser than usual here lately. I’m sorry we couldn’t share the reason for this until now.”

Becky extended the fingers of her right hand out-ward and then curled them in on themselves – her usual reaction when she was nervous.

Suddenly Chris wished it was three years from now, that this news was long behind them, and that they’d settled comfortably into their new way of life. Why couldn’t there be some way to cut past this dreadful next juncture? Why was it necessary for his daughter to live this?

Polly reached out for that hand now and then took the other as well. She positioned herself directly in front of Becky. “I’m afraid your father is going to be moving out today.”

Becky swiveled her head sharply to look at him.

Chris leaned in her direction. “Babe -”

“Your father and I just can’t live together anymore, honey” Polly said, inching closer to their daughter. “We realize this is a terribly, terribly serious decision, and I want you to know that we never would have taken it
lightly.”

Chris wanted to scream.
We never would have taken this Lightly, Polly? You clearly define “lightly” very differently than I do. You didn’t even involve me in the process.

He touched Becky on the shoulder, Polly cutting her eyes angrily toward him as he did so. When he did, Becky erupted from the couch.

“I can’t believe this is happening. Why didn’t you give me some kind of warning? How could you just dump this on me like this now?”

She looked at them when she said it, but her gaze unmistakably lingered on Chris, making it clear that she believed they had a different deal than this. He found he had no answer for her, and in the milliseconds it took him to try to think of one, Polly interjected.

’We thought about that long and hard. Your father needed some time to get set up in his new apartment. It would have just been painful for you to have him in the house here with us when you knew he was going to be leaving.”

Becky’s eyes were starting to cloud. Chris knew that if she started crying he would as well, and while he wanted her to know how much this was hurting him, he didn’t want to give Polly access to these emotions. She’d forfeited any right to see him exhibit any feelings when she rent him from the household.

“New apartment?” Becky said tentatively.

Chris nodded, though he guessed this was barely perceptible. He was having trouble moving his head. “In Standridge.”

Becky pursed her lips. “Over the bridge.”

“It’s only a little bridge, babe.”

“I still don’t understand.”

Polly reached out a hand. “Honey, come sit. I can explain it to you.”

Becky’s gaze went to the carpet. “I think I’d rather stand.”

“This is a lot to comprehend. We realize that. You can’t possibly take all of it in at once.”

Thanks for speaking for me, Polly,
Chris thought, barely containing the mix of anger and anguish surging inside. We
don’t understand, though.
You
understand because you’re driving this and you’re thrilled about it. I certainly don’t understand it, and I doubt I ever will

Becky’s chin rose. “I assume this isn’t a conversation.”

Polly tipped her head forward. “It’s an explanation, honey.”

“Okay,” Becky said, her voice unrecognizably chilly. It was as though someone else was speaking from her body. Someone he’d never shared anything with. “You’ve explained. I think I’d like to go upstairs now.”

“It might be better if you sat with us a little longer,” Polly said with the composure that comes with the kind of absolute certainty Chris had never felt about anything this uncomfortable for another person.

Becky looked off into the distance. “I don’t think it would be better.”

She turned and left.

Chris watched her go, trying to think of something he could have said that would have made this easier for Becky; something he could have done the set the groundwork for this better even if he’d stayed within the bonds of Polly’s dictates.
Everything and nothing,
he thought.
I could have done so much more to prepare her, but I couldn’t have done anything to make it easier.

There was an imperiousness in Becky’s attitude that he’d never seen before. She was angry and upset, of course. How could she not be? But she had also been somewhat aloof in her response. Was this what she was going to be like during her teenage years? How much more difficult was that time going to be because of the divorce?

Becky was long out of sight when Chris finally realized he was still looking in the direction she’d gone. He blinked and looked down at the couch. He was somewhat surprised that Polly was still sitting there, figuring she would have bolted from sight the second Becky was gone. Was this something divorcing couples debriefed on afterward?
That went well, don’t you think?
Chris guessed that it wasn’t, at least when circumstances were as hostile as they were in this situation.

He slowly stood. “I’m going to get the rest of my stuff together,” he said, immediately wishing he hadn’t even bothered to offer that much of an explanation.

An hour later, he’d packed his last couple of boxes in the car. Surprisingly, he felt hungry. How was it possible that he had an appetite right now? Years ago, when he’d learned Becky was sick, he ate nothing other than a handful of pretzels for days. Maybe this was some kind of good sign. Maybe his body was telling him things were going to normalize much more quickly this time, that it wasn’t necessary for his entire system to go completely out of whack. As shaky as he felt, he was surprised he could consider anything to be a good sign.

He thought about seeing if Becky wanted to go with him somewhere for an early lunch. It would give them a chance to talk now that she’d begun to process the news and now that he was finally free to openly discuss it with her.

But he knew there was no chance Polly would let him leave with their daughter, even for an hour. She’d been utterly intransigent about everything related to Chris’s time with Becky; the custody conversation had been brutal, and she never relented from her original position. Chris’s lawyer advised him to “live to fight another day,” feeling that Polly’s situation as a stay-at-home mother and Chris’s long lab hours would afford her an enormous advantage in any family court battle. How much had he ceded to her by not even putting up a meaningful level of resistance?

Chris shut the trunk of his car and considered what he should do next. Hanging around the house seemed pointless, even if Becky came down from her room. It would be like waiting with someone as he made his way through the airport security line before embarking on a long international trip; nothing more than forestalling the inevitable. That would only make things worse for Becky, and he was rededicating himself at this moment to only making things better for her.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he walked back inside the house. Polly was reading a magazine at the kitchen table – something she never did – and he passed her without saying a word, climbing the stairs to Becky’s room.

Her door was closed, and she invited him in when he knocked. He found her sitting on her bed playing her DS.

“I’m gonna get going,” he said, finding even these words difficult to choke out.

She looked up from her game, pursed her lips, and nodded.

“I’ll see you Wednesday. That’s our night to have dinner together. Maybe we’ll run by the apartment so you can see it.”

“Yeah.”

Chris took a step in her direction. “Listen, babe –”

“Are you heading off?”

Chris turned to see Polly standing in the doorway. His anger flared instantly, but he tamped it down. “Yes, I was just telling Becky.”

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