Read Halcyon Nights (Star Sojourner Book 2) for Free Online Page B

Lisa?” I began. “Is it OK if I come and sit next to you?”
    She looked up, a solemn expression on her round face, her blue eyes still mistrustful. “I guess so. You can sit there.” She pointed to a spot away from her.
    I sat where she'd indicated, legs tucked, and put the other presents between us.
    She played with the stubborn ribbon. “Mommy has lots of holographs of me and you and her, but Charles made Mommy put them all away.”
    “Oh?” I suppressed a dark thought.
    “Mommy says you were just sick and couldn't come home but that you still love me.” She tugged at the ribbon. “But Charles says you should go to a doctor if you're sick. Did you go to a pig doctor?”
    “No.” I smiled. “But I do love you, Lis'. I always have.”
    “Were you really sick? Sometimes Mommy tells me right lies 'cause she doesn't want me to feel bad.”
    “I must've been sick if I didn't come home to you,” I said softly. “That's white lies, Lis'.”
    She knitted her brows and watched me. “Sometimes Mommy looks at your picture and then she does this.” She shook her head from side to side.
    “You, uh…” I shifted uneasily. “You want me to help you open that present?”
    She scratched her cheek, brows still furrowed. “I can open it.” She got up and gave me the Cleocean. It had a sweet perfume aroma. From my experience with Cleoceans on Syl'Tyrria, rotted kelp would've been more authentic.
    She sat closer this time and I waited quietly while she undid the ribbon and tore apart wrapping paper. She rounded her lips and drew in a breath as she uncovered the iridescent whorled shell. “Mommy and Charles took me to the beach.” She giggled, her tongue between teeth. “I went swimming and you know what?”
    I grinned. “What?”
    She clamped the shell to her small ear, more intricate than the calcified souvenir. “I can hear the ocean. Listen!” She came over on her hands and knees and shoved the shell against my ear.
    I winced as it scraped, and listened. And almost shrank back from the memory that sound evoked. The echo of long waves hissing like virulent thoughts.
    “You hear that? That's the ocean!”
    “I hear it, Squiggles.” I pulled down her shirt, which had ridden up her belly, and extended my hands. “Can I have a hug?”
    She looked toward the kitchen. “Where's Grandma?”
    I lowered my hands. “She's in the kitchen, and Grandpa's – “
    “Making link calls.” She pursed her lips and deepened her voice. “Hello Mister Secretary.”
    She giggled as she got up. She sat on my crossed legs and leaned against me as she turned the shell over in small hands.
    I put my arms loosely around her, gently kissed her forehead, and felt a welling of love, sudden and strong. This was my child. My Lisa. I stroked her fine light curls. This was my flesh. To love. To protect with my life.
    She pressed the shell to her ear and I rocked her.
    My Lisa.
    “Daddy?”
    I smiled at that. “Yeah, Lis'?”
    “Are you gonna live with us?”
    “No. But I'll…I'll visit you.” I hoped. “And bring you presents.”
    “Are you gonna go away again?”
    I swallowed to force down the tightness in my throat. “I might have to, baby.”
    “Are you gonna get sick again?”
    “No, I don't think I'll get sick. And this time I'll try real hard to come back and see you.”
    She stuck a finger inside the shell, probing. “Can I come to pig Tartas?”
    “Tell you what, someday we'll go to the beach and look for more shells.”
    “On pig Tartas?”
    “How about California?”
    “OK.” She yawned.
    “You want to go to bed? You can open the rest of the presents tomorrow morning.”
    “Do I have to?” Her whine was well rehearsed.
    I looked up and saw Abby in the doorway. “Oh. Hello, Misses Hatch.” I managed a smile. “How are you?” I started to lift Lisa off my lap to get up, but Abby motioned me down.
    “I'm fine, thank you.” Her hair was a bit grayer, neat as ever. Her face showed a few more wrinkles. Same