Chapter Twenty One
The car slowed to a stop, jostling them in the overcrowded car. Tentacles and limbs all lurched forward, bumping into each other as the car pulled into the faint shadow of their ship. The overhead lights seemed to have dimmed as the sun set above ground.
Max triggered the door lock, happy to escape. He’d spent the last twenty minutes with someone’s tentacle poking his kidney. None of them wanted to make two trips, but three adults and three almost grown kids were too much for one car.
“Next stop, Earth,” Dee said happily as she arched her back.
She had ended up in a back corner of the car and had spent much of the trip with Xander half on top of her.
Max had offered to switch seats, but she had pointed out that he was even larger.
And they couldn’t have Xander in front where he might accidentally hit the car controls because there were too many people.
“Earth, here we come,” Max echoed. He hoped the military had a rare moment of sanity and allowed him to separate, but if all else failed, James would be happy to create a diversion. And if that failed, a full assault. And Max suspected the other kids would be right behind him.
They hadn’t been shy about telling the Hidden one government where to shove their attitudes–that’s for sure.
“Earth, sweet not home,” Xander said with a trill of humor.
“Earth, sweet weird not home,” Kohei corrected him.
“Like your planet is any better,” Dee said with a snort.
“Pollution,” James offered.
“Riots,” Xander said louder. Max was a little embarrassed that proof of alien life had made all humanity's worst traits light up like the universe’s most demented Christmas tree.
People sucked. And not in the fun way. Well, not only in the fun way.
From the news reports he’d seen, partying and debauchery had also become semi-popular pastimes.
“Hidden ones have isolation, a lack of cooperation, and emotional constipation that makes male service members look like touchy-feely care bears,” Dee shot back.
“Point to Dee,” Max said. Rick came around the car and slid a tentacle around Max’s waist. “Will you defend your planet’s honor?” Max asked.
“No,” Rick trumpeted, and Max got the feeling he was horrified at even being asked.
“Well, I need to get inside and change clothes. You guys have the advantage of not needing a wardrobe, but humans require pants, and every once in a while, those pants need to be washed or changed.” Max needed to peel his pants off him at this point.
“Humans do not require pants. I see vids of pantsless Unbalanced ones,” Xander said.
Max pointed an accusatory finger at his youngest. “I will not be pantsless anytime in the near future. Or far future.”
Rick bubbled with laughter. Max could guess what he was thinking; Max would lose his pants as soon as they reached the privacy of their room.
“I’m with you,” Dee said, “even though I’m not nearly as stinky as you.
Let’s head inside.” They walked toward the ship.
The gangplank was still down, and Rick hurried to the top to trigger the lock, and Max had to trot to keep up because Rick’s tentacle held him firmly.
Someone had a little insecurity going, but after the week they’d had, Max’s issues had become sentient and were in danger of birthing puppies.
Big puppies who weren’t potty trained.
It was only fair that Rick had a few of his own–especially considering it had been his damaged, pitiful, horrifying, terrible asshole of a father.
Rick opened the ship door, and the scent of stale air made something unknot in Max’s chest. At some point, old ship air had started smelling like home. James was still down by the car, and Max tugged Rick closer. “James, come on,” Max said.
Xander shrank as his walking tentacle curled and Kohei froze in place like he had been hit with a cartoon freezing ray.
The knot reformed in Max’s chest. “James?”
“I will return to the house. I have come to tell my family ‘good travels.’ I will not leave planet,” James said.
Max struggled to form words, and even when he got his brain to cooperate, his voice was strangled and high. “What?”
“I stay.” James stood taller.
Max’s brain had another small blackout. “But you can’t,” he said. Afterward, Max realized that was parent logic. James could, but Max’s brain was stuck on a steady chant of you-can’t-you-can’t-you-can’t.
“Why not?” James asked, twirling slowly to view Max through all his eyes.
Max opened his mouth without making a sound.
“Human parents struggle to allow independence and can interfere with offspring’s life even after separation. It is a normal thing for Unbalanced one. It is part of what makes them unbalanced,” Xander announced in a grand voice, proud of having this insight.
“That’s not true,” Max protested.
Rick made a bubbly sound of amusement and wrapped a tentacle around Max’s waist, while Dee said, “It kind of is.”
Even Dee had turned against him. Max would exact revenge on her later; right now he had to get his thoughts together and make a coherent argument.
“I think you’re young, James. I mean, you’re a great engineer and weapon designer, and I’m proud of your accomplishments, but even Einstein had an accident.
What if you have an accident and no one is there for you?
You know what can happen.” Panic gripped Max.
He was a pilot. A military pilot. He’d been trained to never panic.
People could be shooting at him while he was going mach 2 and he wouldn’t panic, but now he couldn’t catch his breath.
James slid forward, his tentacles brushing over Max’s arms with tentative touches. “I will be cautious.”
“You’re never cautious,” Max said, breathing faster. James slowly eased closer, and Max pulled his son into a hug.
“I see consequences. I will avoid danger and use safety protocols always. I may invite ones with talent and fewer resources to share the dwelling,” James assured him.
The knot in Max’s chest eased, but it didn’t vanish.
“He is cognitively mature adult with adequate information to make informed decisions,” Rick said, his voice coming in soft blurbles.
Max shivered. He knew Rick was being reasonable. James wasn’t a two-year-old human baby. He wasn’t. But that didn’t mean Max was ready to let go. But if he didn’t, he would hurt his child as much as Einstein hurt Rick. Max took a deep breath and stepped back into Rick’s waiting tentacles.
“If you are seriously injured or disabled or killed, I will hurt for the rest of my life,” Max told his stubborn middle child.
James shrank as his tentacles turned to curly fries, and now Max felt guilty because he had caused that. He had hurt his son.
“I will take the pain of Max Father into any calculation of risk,” James promised.
Max took a deep breath. “Right. And you’re an adult, and I do trust you.”
“But you are human,” James said almost sadly. “It is your nature to be unbalanced.”
“That might be true,” Max agreed. It had been a long time since he had felt that chasm between him and his family–the stark difference in how they thought versus how he did.
God. Dee had kids. How had she survived being forced away from them for so long?
How could she stay in the military when she had kids? He knew he couldn’t do it.
But she did. Hell, lots of people in the service had kids. They deployed and left their kids behind. Maybe...just maybe... Max had a little trauma from his kidnapping or the pirate attack. Possibly.
“Stay safe and make sure you’re happy,” Max said. “We’ll visit when we come back.”
James stood a little taller. “Family leaving the dwelling means I have safe place to swim, and I would welcome you to swim in my territory.” James shrank a little. “As long as you do not swim in my waters too long.”
That startled a laugh out of Max. “I get it. My father used to say that fish and houseguests both stink after three days. We’ll keep the visits short, but we will be back.”
“Good!” James trumpeted. “I will show off the many great improvements and inventions I will create. I will outswim Rick Father.”
“You are too small to swim against strong currents. I will have to be old and weak for you to outswim me,” Rick said, and oddly, James stood taller at the insult.
Max rolled his eyes. His family was so strange.
“I think being small will give you an advantage because there is less surface area for the current to push against. I bet you’ll find more creative solutions,” Max said.
All his family members looked at him oddly, and Xander bubbled and there was a hint of malice in his amusement. “Unbalanced ones are unbalanced,” Xander said.
“We are all unbalanced for having Unbalanced one family,” Rick said, “but unbalanced is exciting and unpredictable and always in danger of falling on tentacles and bruising. Unbalanced is wonderful.” Rick pulled Max close enough to curl most of his tentacles around Max, wrapping him like a mummy.
“I would be insulted if I didn’t have the warm tinglies,” Max muttered. Rick blurbled and tightened his hold until Max squeaked in an undignified way.
“I will miss unbalanced water,” James said, “but I know I am strong enough to swim in my own currents because Max Father and Rick Father are good fathers.” He rotated and glided down the ramp to the car.
He stopped next to the driver’s side of the car and lifted his largest arm tentacle and made an awkward waving gesture–a human waving gesture.
“Good journeys.” He got in the car and the doors slid down before he reversed away from the ship and drove back toward the exit.
Their first child had left.
“It’s never easy,” Dee said. “I cried when my first went to kindergarten. I went home and smoked and drank coffee until I made myself sick and gave up smoking. By the time my oldest went to college, I was better, but there were still tears when we drove home without him.”
“Unbalanced ones unbalanced,” Rick said in the softest voice a Hidden one could manage. Max leaned back into his husband as even the high-pitched whine of the car vanished from the echoing ship hanger.
“Yes, we are,” Max agreed. “But I'm glad I have a much more logical family to lean on when I lose my balance.”
“I’m hungry.” Kohei slid past to get into the ship, and the quiet moment shattered.
Xander rushed to follow his brother, jostling Rick who bellowed at their youngest. Dee laughed, slipping into the ship while Rick tried to chase Xander, nearly tripping over his own tentacles because he didn’t let go of Max first.
Max was dragged into the ship by his clingy husband who still hadn’t let go, even as he bellowed insults at their son.
He hit the door latch as he was pulled past the panel, closing the rest of the world out.
Maybe they had left James behind to start his own life, but he still had family.
He had a wonderful, dysfunctional, loud, belchy family.