Page 8 of All I Want For Christmas Is An Alien
“I most definitely do not miss snowballs,” Makov adds.
“Come on, Mak,” Torin goads from the doorway in that ever-cheerful voice. “You’re here on Zyanandit’s snowing. Two holiday miracles, as my sholani would say.”
I want just one miracle for Christmas. My sholan to walk through those doors.
“Don’t drag me into this,” Ruby says, hands raised high so Makov can see she’s empty-handed as she enters the house.
Mak growls at his brother. I know that growl. It’s harmless. Except for what he might do to Torin. The brothers push each other’s buttons in a way that rivals my kids. Clem is rather protective of Cris, probably because he is half zyanthan and has already encountered some hatred on Zyan. Not Clem. She’s fully human, and Zyanthans accept her as they accept the human wives of the Warriors who found their heartmates on Earth.
Despite how wonderfully accepting Zyanthans are towards humans, they are guarded and wary of human-zyanthan mixed children, like they are of the eeshone kids born here, kids without the same shade of skin or horns. Like my Havok.
The Center for Eeshone where I work was his home as a child. We live in a house on the property. And these kids, abandoned by their families, have become part of ours. They deserve unconditional love, the same as what they give us. The human-zyanthan children, kids born of two worlds, will suffer a similar prejudice to the eeshone. They have each other and they’re stronger together.
Stronger Together. The warrior motto Havok often recites.
I have to be strong for them…withthem. As a family. They’ve already lost so much. I will not let them lose the holidays too.
“When, Torin?” I ask. He knows what I’m asking.
“Tonight. Tomorrow latest.”
“You’re sure?”
“Stop pressuring him,” Ruby scolds.
I take a deep breath, rise from the chair, and help Cris, who’s already wearing his coat, into his hat and bright red mittens. The hat holes slide over his horns beautifully.
“Why red?” I ask Ruby who picked up the winter accessories from McKenna. “And how did she know it was going to snow?”
“The ZDC has been announcing the coming storm for days, sis.”
“I guess I’ve been preoccupied.”
Torin tosses a hat to Makov. “Don’t freeze your horn off.”
“Drekk you,” Mak says, but he doesn’t anger, not like one might expect. He’s sensitive about the horn he lost in the war, which is why Torin constantly reminds him of it. I’m not sure I understand that, but Torin has a way of keeping Mak from wallowing in despair. Brothers.
Ruby ties a scarf around four-year-old Amber, as if everything is normal. She’s always been strong in a way I haven’t. She took care of me when I was pregnant and Clementine’s no-good father only came by looking for sex. The asshole never even held his daughter. Not once.
Havok took Clem from my arms the moment he rescued us and he hasn’t let go since.
That’s it. Good thoughts. Hold on to the good memories.
“I think it’s time we learn how to make snowballs, kids.”
“So we can throw them at Daddy when he comes home!” Clementine says
“Definitely! That will teach him to arrive late.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Torin agrees.
“I’ll be back in a sec.”Ruby flies out the front door as I start wrapping myself in layers of winter clothes.
Makov lifts Vinnov into his arms. He’s only two, with the cutest little horn buds.
“You think holding your youngling will protect you, Mak?” Torin teases.
“You will not harm my son with a snowball.”
