Crossbred Son (11 page)

One of the women approached, her hand out but not for a handshake. At a loss, Abby offered her own, and the stranger squeezed it but didn’t release her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. That gave Abby a chance to examine her.

The woman was at least fifteen years older than Abby was. Her hair was in an intricate up-do that left honey-colored curls cascading around her elfin face.

“Joy,” the other woman stated.

“Excuse me?” Abby asked. Was this some strange greeting between the Xxan she still hadn’t learned.

She chuckled. “My name. Joy Raash. It’s good to meet you, Abby, and I am sorry to intrude on your work.”

Stifling the wince proved impossible. Abby nodded and offered a smile that she knew was strained.

Joy wasn’t interrupting much.
Well, besides the end of my life’s dream.

Once the news services reported her name in connection with the firebombing of her apartment, some eager beaver dug up her ownership of
Ideal Ideas
. In the last three days, she’d not only lost a large proportion of her and her son’s belongings; she’d lost more than seventy percent of her business.

Corporate accounts she’d fostered in the last year—even after she’d surrendered her offices and started working at home to care for Michael when finding child care had proven impossible—had pulled abruptly, stating that her services were no longer required. Though a few of her accounts had increased their orders—most likely out of pity—it couldn’t make up for the loss of the larger accounts.

Face it. In a world full of humans, the Xxan are the minority.

“Thank you.” It was the only response she could think of to make.

Joy tipped her head. “Come meet the others,” she invited.

Why not? What else do I have to do besides raise my son?

They walked down to the group of women, and the introductions started. There were only two names she recognized besides Joy’s: Zondra and Miri Daahn. Miri carried a baby in a sling around her shoulders, Zondra had a young girl she’d guess to be about twice Michael’s age on her hip, and the four Daahns wore matching
S’suuhhea
.

Geoff appeared in the doorway to the eating area and cleared his throat for attention. All chatter between the women stopped, and they moved toward his position. Joy hooked an arm through Abby’s and guided her along with them.

The room was set with all the cushions—save Zhaahvan’s—pulled into a ring in the center of the room. The trays of meat in the middle contained more food than Abby had ever seen in one place.

To her surprise, none of the males joined them, even the elder of the nest, save the babies and toddlers. Ariel set to work feeding Michael, leaving Abby nothing to do but try to socialize with a roomful of women she’d never met before. It wasn’t a situation she was accustomed to. She’d always avoided these types of events.

Whatever this type of event is.

Zondra spoke up first. “We are so sorry for your loss.”

“Loss?” What in the world was she talking about?

She motioned to a stack of boxes and bags against the far wall. “We were told you lost almost everything in...in that deplorable attack.” Zondra reached across and covered Abby’s hand with her own. “I am so glad you and Michael weren’t there when it happened.”

“So am I.” Abby glanced at the pile. “What is...?” She motioned up and down, at a loss to comprehend it.

Miri spoke up. “It is our way to send gifts when a new mate joins an ally’s nest...and when a new young one does.”

“But we—”

“You and Gabe are mates in the eyes of the Xxan, though the situation precludes formal mating. As such, we send gifts as allies of your nest.”

Abby swallowed a lump of emotion and nodded. “Thank you.”

Another woman inserted herself into the conversation. “And when an allied nest has need, we help. Whatever we can do to help. Not everything stacked there is new. We’ve collected old toys and clothes Michael might be able to use. Things like that.”

Abby searched frantically for her name.
Sarah? Stacie? Susan? Oh, it doesn’t matter.
“Thank you.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

I should say something. Anything.
“Do you get together often?”
That was stupid. Why did I choose to ask that?

Jana laughed. “Not nearly as often as we’d like to, I’m sure.”

Zondra cut in again. “Mostly those of us with young ones of about the same age. My Siri is not much older than your Michael is. Perhaps we could have them play together.”

“And my Lewis,” another woman added.

Miri nodded. “Amanda is only a few months younger than the others.”

“A play group,” Abby mused. “I’ve always wanted a play group for Michael, but...” She shrugged.

Zondra made a noise that spoke of disgust. “I
know.
You would think Xxanian children had cooties.”

The laugh bubbled up, and there was no stopping it. Tears leaked from Abby’s eyes as she laughed harder.

“It’s good to hear you laughing again.” Jana smiled and wrapped a hand around Abby’s shoulders.

Abby squeezed her tight.
Is this home? Is this what I’ve been missing all these years?
She suspected it was.

****

“Abby,” Joy called out. “I understand you have a profitable little business.”

Some of the happiness seeped out of Abby’s heart, and she sighed. “I did. I’m not sure I will have one for much longer.”

Conversations on the other side of the ring stopped abruptly, and the women gaped at her.

“It’s not this anti-Xxan thing, is it?” Stacie asked, seemingly incredulous.

Abby motioned vaguely. “When accounts that were throwing more and more your way suddenly say they don’t need your services anymore...There’s really only one thing you can assume.”

“Damned bigots,” she cursed. “I am so glad the Xxan aren’t that way.”

“Some are,” Miri stated.

From the way Zondra hugged her sister-in-law, something told Abby there was a story there.

“Well, you don’t need to worry about the accounts you lost,” Joy informed her.

“Oh, I know I don’t
need
to work,” Abby replied. “I know Gabe and the nest are more than willing and capable of taking care of us, but my business was always my dream.”

“And I’m not telling you to give up on that,” Joy offered patiently. “I’m telling you that you have other clients, if you want them.”

Her meaning was crystal clear. “I can’t accept nepotism. Just because our nests are allies...That doesn’t mean it’s your duty to keep my business alive.”

Joy laughed and pulled the messenger bag she’d been carrying into her lap. Without a word, she opened it and handed over a thick folder, passing it through Jana.

Abby opened it and started flipping through the pages. It was a full profile on her company, from the looks of it. “How did you get this so quickly?”

“I didn’t. I’d already been looking into a contract between
Ideal Ideas
and
Spice Industries
.”

Abby’s mouth went dry. “For how long?”

“Ever since you signed
Koltrane
as a client.”

Five months.
“Wow.”

“As you can see, my brother-in-law is rather...exhaustive in his research when we choose to take on a new business partner.”

Zondra broke in. “After that nastiness with Sandy’s former boss, can you blame him?”

Joy nodded her agreement. “Arren and Sandy send their regards. They would be here as well, but their girls are still on medical lockdown. You know Doctors Rayn and Carew, I’m sure. At least they’re at home now.” She wagged a finger, her gaze far away. “Once they are allowed to, they’d make excellent additions to the play group.”

A niggling memory ate at Abby.
Raash?
“The other preemies,” she recalled. “They were in lockdown on SLAL much longer than Michael and I were.” The Raash twins had had a special nest area, while she’d stayed in a bedroom with Michael. She’d never seen them, though she knew they’d been on the space station for more than a month together.

Joy nodded. “At any rate, I’ve been looking at adding a gift basket option for
Spice Industries
. Arren was particularly intrigued with the idea of dealing with you when he learned you were raising a Xxanian young one and buying our products for Michael. Of course, he was frustrated by the lack of information about which nest you were connected to or how you could come to be in possession of a Xxanian child.” Her smile said she rather enjoyed Arren’s frustration.

Another story there.
Abby forced her mind back to the main issue. “The gift baskets?” she prompted.

“We would pay you to design a whole range of options for us, and we would employ our own staff to produce them—to your standards of course. You would have complete creative control. Every time one sells, you would get a commission from it.”

“Just your own products?” It was always best to know the scope of a new project.

“Not at all. There are human mates and human business partners our customers might want to purchase for. We would keep a store room of any products you add to the baskets, so they’ll be on hand when we need to make a basket.”

“Free reign? All the suppliers I usually work with?”

“Plus
Spice Industries
,” Joy reminded her. “Ideally, we would like to start with a minimum of about a hundred designs and add more seasonally.”

“That’s a huge undertaking,” Abby breathed.

“You could still run your own designs as well, but the anticipated earnings from this venture would more than make up for it, if you moved your existing client base over to the new system.”

“No. I do personal designs for them.”

Joy tipped her head.

Abby considered it. “It’s definitely close to what I’ve always wanted,” she conceded. “Staff to assemble the bulk designs and freedom to create personalized ones.”

“And a discount on all
Spice
products you want to use in your personalized designs,” Joy reminded her.

“Better than I’d anticipated then.”

“Is that an agreement?” Joy asked, seemingly excited at the prospect.

Bring out your businesswoman face.
Abby smiled widely. “Send me a contract. I’d love to see the proposal.” Something told her it would be more than fair.

Epilogue

Seven months later

Abby led Michael off the shuttle, the toddler hopping on two feet at the end of his mother’s arm.

Doctor Rayn’s rich laughter lit his crinkled eyes. “Let me guess. He wasn’t doing that yesterday.”

One particularly hearty bounce nearly pulled Abby over on top of him, and she sighed. “I swear he went from cruising to walking to running nearly overnight.”

“Most Xxanian children do. Especially Dominants like your son.”

The young Dominant in question stopped short. Abby tipped her head down, intent on asking what was wrong.

Michael stood, one tiny foot raised, swiveling it back and forth. His blond head was bowed in serious consideration.

The first hop on his left foot was tentative. The next several were increasingly robust. He looked up at Abby and smiled widely, showing both his human incisors and canines and his Xxanian hunting teeth.

Abby offered a weary smile. “That’s good, Michael.”

Rayn’s Xxan was slow and smooth.
“Come, young Dominant.”

Michael stopped hopping and stared at the doctor. He cocked his head to one side, hesitated a long moment, and released Abby’s hand. Hopping on his left foot, Michael reached Rayn’s side. He grasped the doctor’s hand, switched feet, and started testing his prowess on the right foot.

“
Hauaa
comes,”
her son pronounced in Xxan. He’d quickly become bilingual and had started using both English and Xxan words within days of each other.

Abby sighed and trudged after them. Exhaustion weighed her down. Even with Gabe’s family running herd, keeping up with a Xxanian toddler was a full time job.
Plus some.
More than once in the last few months, she’d kicked herself that she’d ever believed she could do this alone.

Michael vaulted up on the far examination bed with the agility of a gymnast. Then he crumpled in that careless way children had.

Abby stopped beside the closer bed. It was tempting to climb up on it and take a nap while Michael had his appointment.

“
Hauaa
, watch!” Michael commanded, switching back to English again.

He jumped hard on the bed, two corpsmen bracketing their arms to catch him in case his fledgling muscle prowess failed him or he misjudged his position. Rayn stepped back and let Michael play, a smile curving his lips.

“That’s good, Michael,” she repeated.
Encouraging children is necessary. Isn’t it?

Just watching him landing and rebounding made Abby’s head spin. She closed her hand around the safety bar on the edge of the bed.

“Abby?” Doctor Rayn inquired.

She looked up and met his gaze. The deep blue of his eyes was clear and crisp, but everything else was swimming and indistinct.

The pounding of Michael’s feet slowed, lengthened...and Abby’s heart rate seemed to slow to match it. Colors muted and then faded to sepia tones.

Michael went still, coiled in a crouch, his eye slits narrowing and his ridge plates extending. Movement came from every direction, and a fierce growl followed her into darkness.

****

Gabe rushed through changing his clothing. It had been a long shift, and he was more anxious than ever to see Abby and Michael.

They might not be home yet.
Abby had said the check-up at SLAL would be “quick,” but there was still travel time to consider.
Travel time and the overprotective SLAL doctors.
Given the chance, Rayn could turn even a routine physical examination into a two-day event.