Page 32 of Whisked Away By the Alien

“Did you leave something at your parents’?” Sten asks when I stopped walking.

“I’m taking in the snow.”

He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a light jacket but doesn’t appear cold. Meanwhile, I’m bundled up in a knee-length, dark gray wool coat and hot pink hat with matching mittens that Bubbe knitted for me. My mom bought me the coat, so I’d blend in with my surroundings and be less of a target to men looking for trouble. Bubbe intentionally used hot pink yarn so men looking for a wife would notice me.

I live a life of mixed signals, but I know what I want. A nice home, a career that brings my life meaning and joy, and most of all, a guy who will love me for me.

I’m grateful for the coat, hat, and mittens. They’re technically all I need to stay warm. My eyes lift to Sten’s, and I envision cuddling up next to him for a better source of heat.

My foot catches on the uneven pavement and I go flying forward. Before I slam to the ground, strong arms catch me and set me on my feet. Damn, how embarrassing. Face-planting in front of a guy two days in a row can’t be explained, even if I had two left feet! This time it’s my own damn fault, too. I know better than to walk distracted. The government spends its money fixing critical infrastructure, which doesn’t include sidewalks.

“Are you okay?” Sten asks, the concern in his face unmistakable.

“I’m fine, thank you for catching me. It’s been a long day. I’m sure tomorrow will be better.”

“You will return? I will see you again?” His silver eyes light up, bright and shiny like the silver on my parents’ menorah. Mine are plain brown, nothing special. I wonder what our kids would look like.

OMG, I did not just go there, did I?

“Is that your bus stop?” On the corner, a bus pulls up to a crowd of people.

“One more block. I have another five minutes or so before it arrives.”

“Why don't you live with your parents?”

“They can be a bit controlling at times.”

“But they love you. Protect you.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love them and I don’t know what I’d do without them, but I still need to live my own life. If my mom had her way, I’d be married with three kids by now.”

“You don’t like younglings?”

“I love them. But I have to meet the right guy first. Until then, I’m content living in Cobble Hill with four other women. They’re nice and quiet, and our apartment is closer to where I work, over in the Waterfront District.”

As we reach the bus stop, I realize Sten has been watching the surroundings the entire time. I’ve been doing most of the talking while he’s been assessing the people and dangers nearby. Which is what I’d do if I were on my own but with him here, I relax. He won’t let anything happen to me.

“Hey, Sten? Would you… like to see my place?” When he faces me, I suddenly worry I’m being too forward. “It’s okay if you don’t want to travel that far. And I totally forgot the buses stop running in an hour so we can do it another time.”

Or not at all. I can see it in his face. He’s only escorting me to the bus because my parents asked him. Duty, nothing more.

“I would be honored.” Sten adds a slight nod, his eyes never leaving mine. He’s watching my reaction, which must be one of shock because I didn’t expect him to say yes. “I do not require a bus to return to your parents’. I will memorize the route and walk back.”

“That’s five miles!”

“Then I will run. Much faster. And learning my way around this city is part of my duties.”

He laces his fingers with mine. Warmth spreads through me and I know it has nothing to do with the wool coat.

A group of five people arrive at the bus stop ahead of us, with a second group close behind. The last bus of the night will be crowded, but if we miss it, that means I’ll be sleeping on the floor of my parents’ room thinking about Sten all night and unable to do anything about it.

Still holding hands, I start running. “We better hurry or we’ll never get a seat.”

“Do not worry, Golda. We will get seats.”

The moment the bus pulls up, everyone piles on. By the time we board, it’s standing-room only. When Sten climbs the steps, bending so his horns don’t scrape the ceiling, everyone in the front half of the bus flees to the back, crowding together like sardines in a tin can.

With six rows now empty, we have our choice of seats. My sweet alien sits down in the third row. “See, it’s easy getting a seat.”

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