Page 16 of The Bride Auction

“Blue or purple, I think. Actually I don’t really have a favorite color. They all have a place.”

“Stay here.” Imoa ushered me to a round seat, almost like an ottoman style couch I’d only ever seen in old movies, in the center of the store. The couch was deep black in a semicircle shape and extremely comfortable. “Usually it’s not the person seeking the dress that sits here but their family. Would you like to relax here for a bit while I find some outfits I think would look good with your complexion? They might all be a little too large for you, seeing as you’re tiny.”

“I'm not that short for a human,” I said.

“She laughed. “For a human, right. You’re short compared to us.”

“Plus, I have some extra curves.” I gestured towards my hips and midsection.

She waved a hand. “You’re perfect as you are. My son is clearly smitten.”

A sales clerk came and popped a large glass in my hand. “Relax while we find some things for you to try on.”

My mother-in-law, I supposed I should think of her in that capacity since I was legally mated to her son, zipped around the store, grabbing a few things off multiple racks. “I think these three will look amazing on you. Would you like to try them on?” she asked after a few minutes.

“The fitting rooms are through here,” said the clerk who led me to a hidden alcove.

I tried the first dress on. It was long and a deep hunter green with a plunging neck and backline. It was almost as scandalous as a dress worn by some singer to an award show a long time ago. I was afraid if I moved rapidly, my overly large breasts would fall out without any support system. The bottom was too long and would need to be tailored, but I held it like an old Hollywood starlet.

I walked out in bare feet to see Imoa. “What do you think?” I asked, twirling around slowly.

“It's a beautiful color on you, but I’m not sure if it is right for your bonding. Try the orange one,” she encouraged.

A few minutes later I came out. Imoa tutted, “No, I like that one better on the hanger than on you. It clashes a bit with your hair and skin. It makes you washed out, and you’re much too vibrant. What about the last one?”

I hid in the changing room and put my old clothes back on. I came out holding the third dress. “I have an idea,” I said. “I know the perfect outfit. Thank you for this, but I don’t need one of these.”

“Are you positive?”

“I am.” A smile played across my lips. Yes, I had the perfect dress.

“In that case, let’s pay for the things we did pick and be on our way to lunch. All this shopping made me hungry,” Imoa said, rubbing her stomach.

Now that I’d spent time with her, I understood what Renick meant. His mother was a force of nature, definitely used to getting her way, and I needed to take some lessons from her.

Imoa paid by putting our purchases on her late husband’s account. Instead of heading back to the flyer, we walked down the main street. It was full of shops and beings of all kinds, walking around, going about their daily lives. I peered at the entrance to a park, enjoying the laughter of children on things that look like slides in swing sets but were vastly different. Some obstacles and play sets I’d never seen before, but I recognized a climbing wall.

“I loved playing in the park with my family,” I said. Nostalgia tinged my voice. “My brother is close in age to me. We used to play for hours at a time before the Elodian invasion. Our younger sisters were born after and our town is still rebuilding. Parks aren’t a high priority though.”

“Renick too. He was outside more than he was in. He loved climbing and hiding. I think it was his favorite pastime.” His mom smiled, and we passed a few restaurants. Instead of going into some of the more elegant ones, Imoa led me down a less crowded side street.

We stopped at a food cart, and before I knew it I was eating the alien equivalent of a street hot dog and pretzel.

“This is delicious,” I said between bites.

Imoa put her finger to her lips and leaned in conspiratorially. “This is my guilty pleasure type of food. Don’t tell. It’ll be our secret. My husband and Renick think I love high-end food all the time. I didn’t grow up with the things they had. I think you and I have more in common than you know sometimes. Simple is best,” his mother said, adding an extra little tip to the street vendor. “I’ll send some more business your way. Your food is delicious, thank you.”

We took our time wandering the streets of the town. She pointed out some of her favorite places and warned me against going into others for various reasons.

We finally came to the shuttle, and she asked if I wanted to try steering at home.

“Not today, thank you. This is only the second time I’ve ever been in a flyer. Besides, I still have a lot to learn. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s not difficult to fly.”

“I don’t feel comfortable enough as a passenger yet, let alone fly somebody else’s flyer.”

Imoa laughed. “It goes on autopilot, but I’ll have Renick give you lessons, or I can when you feel more comfortable.”

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