Mail Order Mom, page 3
Thankfully, we’d spent most of the journey cryogenically frozen. Five months in this close of quarters would’ve been real torture.
“Mara, I convinced you to get away from the bad guys with guns and knives who were literally after our heads. If Jason really cares about you, he must be happy you’re alive. And he’ll wait for your safe return when things calm down a bit.”
She brushed me off with a regal gesture of her hand. “Fine. Whatever. We’re getting off this space tin can soon. Some very important people will be meeting us at the spaceport. Government representatives, I imagine. It’s not every day that Earthlings visit Aldrai. It’s kind of a big deal for them there. The first impression is everything.” She raised her chin and declared with pathos, “You’re representing Earth, Susanna.”
“Why can't I represent it while wearing this dress?” I pointed at the outfit on my bunk bed.
“Listen, we may be...” her lips quivered, “...poor. At the moment. But there’s no need to broadcast that to every alien out there. Fake it until you make it.” She cocked her hip with a glamorous flip of her hair over her shoulder. It was impossible not to admire her confidence. Then she tossed a reproachful look at the offensive garment I was about to wear. “This isn’t even Chanel.”
I had sold all the clothes that Mara would find acceptable. All I had left were the outfits I’d worn to work. These were still decent enough pieces, but of course, they all were way below Mara’s impossibly high standards.
“Do you honestly think the Aldraians will be able to tell the difference between a Chanel dress and this one?” I asked.
She propped her hands on her hips.
“Maybe they can. It’s awfully presumptuous of you to assume all aliens are complete savages. A few may be civilized enough to appreciate a decent outfit.” She rummaged through one of her suitcases. The cabin was too small to accommodate all her luggage. We’d only managed to fit two of the dozen or so bags she’d brought.
“Since you’re going to be seen with me, I need to salvage this somehow. Maybe we could at least dress it up a little? Take these shoes, these sunglasses...” She handed me the items as she took them out of her bags. “We don’t have time to do anything about your hair, but here...” She pulled out a pearl-gray scarf. “Hermes. Pure silk.”
She tied the scarf around my head, letting the ends drape down my back, then propped a pair of sunglasses on my nose.
“Voilà! You look like a blonde Audrey Hepburn. Chubbier than her, but still classic, just like you wanted.”
I let the “chubby” comment slide. Mara and I had worn the same size clothes all our lives. Yet she never failed to emphasize my “extra” weight.
I glanced in the narrow mirror on the door of the cabin. One thing my sister was really good at was creating “the look.” If I tied the scarf over my head, I'd look like a babushka from middle-ages Russia. When she did it... Well, it looked classy.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“You’re welcome. I can’t let my own sister embarrass me in front of the entire alien planet, now, can I?”
THE MASSIVE METAL DOORS of our spaceship opened, and the wide ramp descended for us to disembark. A puff of fragrant air rushed in. It smelled like freshly cut grass and exotic flowers—a scent I hadn't smelled in like...well, never. This was an entirely new planet, after all.
Bright sunlight burst through. I adjusted Mara’s sunglasses on my nose, taking a step out of the ship to follow the human representatives of the Liaison Committee who came on the ship with us.
It was a warm, sunny day, with our spaceship landing in the middle of a meadow with artfully arranged hedges and flower beds. Green and colorful, the space hardly looked like a spaceport.
“It’s pretty here,” I whispered to Mara as the two of us tottered down the ramp in our high heels.
“Oh no!” she gasped, staring at the group waiting for us on the stone path below. “They’re even uglier in person.”
The Aldraians ranged in color from pale wood to dark walnut and every earthy shade in between. There was a clear difference between male and female Aldraians. The women were closer in appearance to humans, except for the three pairs of breasts in the front. They had no horns, and their long hair closely matched the color of their skin. All the women present were pleasant to look at.
Mara’s comment must’ve been about the males. Huge and muscular, they could be easily mistaken for rock formations. The hard lines and corners of their bodies made them appear as if roughly hewn from pieces of granite. I wouldn’t call them outright ugly, but they sure looked different.
As I studied the Aldraians, they all turned toward us. Their scrutinizing gazes weighed heavily on my shoulders. I straightened my back and adjusted my sunglasses.
“Fake it until you make it,” I repeated Mara’s words in my head, calling on whatever confidence I possessed.
The group included a non-Aldraian. Slightly smaller than them, he was covered in dark-gray fur. He had long, slightly curved horns and a pair of hooves instead of feet—a Voranian from the planet Neron.
He moved his gaze from me to my sister, then back again. I guessed his confusion. We both wore sunglasses. But even if we didn’t, I doubted he would be able to tell who was who. The man clearly needed help.
I quickly touched my hand to the now fully healed scar behind my ear, the place where the translator had been implanted. On Earth, only those involved in interplanetary travel had them. However, people from other planets usually had the translators implanted from birth. All of those standing in front of us must have them too.
“She’s Mara Takolsky.” I flipped my thumb at Mara. “I'm Susanna Riley, her sister.”
“Oh, you’re the nanny,” he stated politely.
Was that what I was?
To obtain the ticket for me, we had to give the reasons for my accompanying my sister. One was to help her look after the children of her new husband.
I guessed I could try to be a nanny. As long as I remained far away from Bolshoy’s people and my head remained on my shoulders.
“I’m the nanny,” I confirmed.
The furry man with hooves took my sister’s hand in both of his.
“Welcome to Aldrai, Madam Xavran Rax,” he addressed her by her new married name. “I’m Alcus Hecear, the Voranian representative of the Liaison Committee.”
Mara arranged her features into a magazine-shot worthy expression. “It’s so very nice to meet you,” she cooed.
Alcus Hecear got hold of my hand next, enclosing it between his in a similar manner. As he bowed his head, I shrank back a little, afraid of being stabbed by his long horns.
“Welcome, Nanny Susanna Riley.”
“Thank you.” I returned his bow with an incline of my head. Like the Aldraians, this man was unusual looking. But his manners were polite and friendly. “I’m glad to be here.”
“Allow me to introduce Madam Councilor Vrux,” he said. “She’s the head official of the Aldraian branch of our Liaison Committee.”
An Aldraian woman with a high, dark-brown ponytail smiled at us. “Welcome to our planet. I hope you like it here.”
“Thank you.” Mara gave her a polite half-smile.
“It’s so beautiful,” I said, sweeping the green hills around us with another appreciative glance.
“It is,” Alcus Hecear agreed. “Aldrai is a gorgeous planet. Its people have been working hard on making it so.”
Councilor Vrux added, “If you need anything at all, you can contact me either directly or through Captain Rax.” She gestured at a man who’d been watching us from a distance.
He stepped forward. This one was possibly the biggest one of them all. I had to tilt my head back to see his face as he approached.
“Allow me to introduce your husband in person, Madam Rax,” Alcus Hecear announced in a formal tone. “Captain Xavran Rax.”
“Oh...” Mara stared at the Aldraian through her sunglasses.
I did too.
With skin the color of pearl-gray granite, he looked like a golem carved from a piece of a mountain. Several horns graced his head, forming a sort of crown. His eyes were dark, almost black, hiding his expression as effectively as our sunglasses did.
“Well, hi.” Mara finally found her words. “How do you do?”
“I’m well, thank you.” He tipped his head swaying his crown of horns.
“Um, hi...” was all I could manage to say.
There was strength in his appearance, a power I wished I could lean into. Like he would rip off the heads of anyone who’d dare to wrong his loved ones. It made me want to inch closer to him, for safety...
I blinked, shaking off the out-of-place fantasy.
The captain was a large man. That was all I really knew about him so far.
He was dressed casually, in a tan-colored shirt with leather buckles on the shoulders and on the sides, a pair of dark-brown pants, and light shoes. A pair of beige bracers with rows of bumps on the back enclosed his forearms.
“This couldn’t possibly be the entire welcoming crowd.” Mara gestured at about a dozen Aldraians meeting us. “Where is the main ceremony taking place?”
The captain rolled back his massive shoulders decorated with clusters of short horns and bumps. “I requested no ceremony.”
Mara’s face fell, her expectant expression leaving it. “No ceremony? But...”
Dressed in her finest, Mara was quite a sight. She could easily grace covers of any high fashion magazine on Earth. I understood her disappointment at not being able to show it all off to a larger crowd.
“There’s no time for that nonsense,” the captain said gruffly. “We need to get back before the kids come home from school.”
“Oh, right... The kids.” She sighed, then added softly for only me to hear, “How banal and prosaic.”
He turned to face me next. “Greetings, Madam Riley.”
I tried not to fidget under the gaze of his dark eyes. “Just Susanna, please. You can call me by my first name if you wish.”
“Thanks,” he replied rather flatly.
Mara pursed her lips, obviously displeased about missing out on the party she believed she was owed.
“My aircraft is that way.” The captain gestured to the left with a hand the size of a shovel.
“You have a plane?” Mara’s voice lifted with obvious interest. Maybe not all was lost for her with this “farmer.” “Do you own a jet?”
“A jet?” With a brief nod to the Voranian and the Aldraians, the captain headed down a cobblestone path toward a tall hedge to the left.
Mara trotted after him. “Well, what do you call a private airplane here?”
I followed them.
“An aircraft,” he repeated. “I have two. One is for me. One for my nanny.”
“Me?” My mouth fell open. Why did a nanny need a private jet?
Mara stopped in her tracks suddenly. “Hey! What about our things? Our luggage?”
The captain didn’t slow down, leaving me unsure whether to remain with her or keep walking with him.
He glanced back at us over his shoulder.
“The luggage from your cabin has already been loaded into my aircraft. Three suitcases.” He lifted a hand with three long thick fingers outstretched.
“Just three?” She stomped her foot.
He stopped, turning around. “Are there more?”
“Of course there are more!” She threw her hands up in the air. “I came here for a year, not a weekend.”
He lifted one heavy eyebrow ridge. “It’ll have to be delivered later, then. I’ve no space for more.”
“Not enough space?” she retorted. “What kind of jet is it?”
His broad chest rose with a deep breath. I wondered if he was counting in his head to calm down before speaking. That was what I often did when dealing with Mara or with cranky customers.
“I never said I have a jet, whatever that word means to you,” he said slowly. “I have a personal aircraft with limited cargo space and no time to unload any more luggage. It’ll have to be delivered later.”
His argument was valid. Sadly, Mara had never been one to respond to the voice of reason.
“When?” She wouldn’t give up.
This time, however, her tantrums appeared to be no match for the captain’s stubbornness. He calmly turned around and proceeded down the path.
“Later,” he tossed over his shoulder. “You’ll have to make do with what you have.”
Mara’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her hands fisted at her sides. Clearly, she was not used to this attitude from men. I expected her to yell at him, but maneuvering the cobblestone path in her stiletto heels stole her concentration for a moment. Cobblestones never went well with high heels.
The captain moved fast, pumping those thick, muscular legs of his. Mara and I had a hard time keeping up.
“Is there a problem?” He glanced over his shoulder to see what was holding us back.
Shifting his gaze down to our shoes, he frowned, but slowed down enough for us to catch up.
We turned around the hedge, entering a field of colorful objects parked in neat rows. They looked like large birds with their wings folded. As we approached one, I realized it was a vehicle with a glass cabin in the front.
The captain pressed a button on one of his arm bracers, and a glass panel slid open on the side of the green-yellow-and-purple vehicle right in front of us.
“These are so pretty—” Gaping at the colorful aircraft, I lost focus on the cobblestones. My heel slid, getting trapped in a gap. Knocked off balance, I lurched forward, flailing my arms.
With a curse under his breath, the captain grabbed me around my waist, saving me from falling on my face.
“What are those stupid things you’re wearing on your feet?” he grumped, his huge arm clamped around me from behind. “We’ll never get out of here at this rate.”
He lifted me off my feet.
“Oh!” I made a choked sound, too shocked to protest.
He heaved me under his arm, my shoe dangling from my toes.
“Here.” He offered his other hand to Mara. “Hold on to me.”
Wide-eyed, she took one look at me hanging over his arm as if I were no heavier than a cat and didn’t argue. She silently grabbed onto his other hand for support and trotted alongside the captain toward his vehicle.
“You’ll get in here.” He lightly shoved her toward the open side panel, pointing at the back seat next to our suitcases piled inside on top of each other.
Then he carried me to the other side and opened the panel there. “And you go in here.” He deposited me into the cushy seat inside, then climbed into the driver’s seat next to me. “We’ll be home in less than two hours. Buckle your seatbelts, ladies.”
Chapter 4
XAVRAN
If he didn’t know Stefan, his male nanny from Earth, he would’ve thought humans were unbearable. He might’ve even sent these two back. But since he got along well with Stefan, he figured there was hope for the females too.
Somehow, in the process of stuffing them both into the aircraft, he’d lost track of who was who. They were wearing slightly different clothes, but he rarely paid attention to fashion. And now he couldn’t remember. Was the chatty one in the back his new wife? Or the clumsy one sitting next to him?
Not that it mattered much. He hoped for an amicable, working relationship with both women, but nothing more than that with either.
They were both now quiet. Even the chatty one sat quietly behind him, probably sulking that he’d left their cargo behind.
How much stuff did a human female need to survive? He hoped they weren’t considerably less resilient than their male counterparts. The last thing he needed was to hire a bunch of caretakers for his new wife and nanny.
He slid a glance at the one sitting next to him. Taking her shoe off, she inspected it. She appeared to be frowning, judging by her creased forehead and pursed lips. The giant black eyeglasses concealed the rest of her face.
“An extremely impractical choice of footwear,” he voiced an observation.
She fingered a tiny scratch on the absurdly high heel of the shoe. “I’m afraid I have to agree with you on that one.”
Their conversation caught the attention of the woman in the back.
“Did you ruin my Louboutins?” she hissed, leaning forward.
“It’s just a small scratch,” the clumsy one replied apologetically, rubbing at the scratch as if hoping to erase it from the shiny leather. “I’m sure it can be fixed.”
“Yeah? And do you see a shoe repair place anywhere here?” The chatty one attacked her sister.
He felt sorry for the clumsy one, who kept fingering the scratch.
“We have skillful cobblers in Diria. They’ll fix it in no time,” he offered. “Or better yet, they’ll make you a pair of better shoes,” he couldn’t help adding.
Impractical footwear wasn’t an exclusively human habit. Some Aldraian women in Arqa, the capital city of Aldrai, wore weirdly shaped shoes too. Not that he approved of that silliness, either.
“Better shoes?” the chatty one scoffed, sounding defensive. “Better than Louboutin?”
“What’s Louboutin?” The highly sophisticated translating system that flawlessly conveyed the meaning of foreign metaphors, idioms, and even slang, failed to translate that word. Which only confirmed what he already knew—the chatty one spoke a lot of nonsense.
“Mara, come on,” the clumsy one reprimanded her sister, and the one in the back settled down with a huff.
If the chatty one was Mara, his new wife, then the one next to him must be the nanny.
She turned to him. “It’s not important. Louboutin is just another word for these shoes.”
Just what he thought—gibberish.
He steered the aircraft out of the city and laid a course home, back to Diria.
Both women silently stared out the glass cockpit. This part of Aldrai was beautiful. He loved seeing it too. The rolling green hills and bountiful flowers that bloomed year round were the results of efforts from generations of his ancestors.
