Chapter 10 Destiny
Destiny
Dread pools in my belly as I walk back to the apartment.
Since Mom left, Dad has not been to a single social function that was not required.
I barely got him to Sanctuary Station, and I think the only reason he acquiesced is because I was going, one way or another, and he didn’t want to be left alone.
That’s what I told him, anyway. I wouldn’t have actually left without him.
He’s my dad, and my last tie to the planet I came from, to my childhood, my mother, and my home.
I’m not going to abandon him and go across the galaxy.
I just wish I didn’t have to drag him so forcefully along behind me.
Just this once, I really need him to be cool.
To go with the flow. Or maybe even just take a shower and sit at a dinner table.
He doesn’t even have to talk, but I am not sure I can handle the embarrassment of showing up by myself after Khur had made it clear it was not an invitation to me but just to the new humans in town.
Plus, I know next to nothing about Dhugaren culture, thanks again, useless orientation videos, and I really don’t want to offend Urzu. She’s been nothing but kind and hospitable since I arrived, and I don’t want to alienate one of the first friends I made.
Steeling my spine and squaring my shoulders, I walk towards our apartment with a purpose. I am going to talk to him confidently and clearly and express my needs just like my therapist told me to.
The apartment is dark when I open the door, but quickly floods with lights when I walk in.
The living room is still bare and kind of cold, and I make a mental note to ask Urzu if I can borrow a blanket or something this evening.
We just need a little color and texture and it will make a huge difference in this sterile, uninviting place.
“Dad? You home?” I call.
Of course he is, he’s always home.
I am feeling more bitter towards him than I have in a long time and I don’t want to examine that too closely. I take a deep breath through my nose and remind myself he is sick and he needs love and understanding, not judgment.
“Hey Desi-dear. I’m here.”
Standing at the end of the hallway in his pajamas and his musty robe, I want to scream for a second, but then I see his eyes, ringed with purple and sunken into his head.
He looks at me so sadly and pathetically I immediately feel guilt swamp me.
He’s sick. He can’t be expected to do everything I want him to do.
It’s selfish of me to think he can perform at 100% after all he’s been through.
“Hey, Dad. Did you eat today?”
“Umm, I think so? I had pancakes this morning,” he says.
“I remember. I made them. Is that the only thing you’ve had?” I plaster on a forced smile.
He shrugs like a petulant child and stares at the floor between us, picking at a thread in his robe.
So I guess today is a really bad day. Even if it had been a good day, though, he wasn’t going to do or be what I need him to be.
I want to yell at him, maybe throw something. I probably would have thrown something if there was anything in the room to throw. As it is, though, I just stand here smiling stupidly and trying not to let my emotions get the best of me. Do I even want to ask about the dinner party?
If I don’t I am going to beat myself up over it. I have to give him a chance. I’m just starting to realize that I am tired of him knocking my hand away every time I extend it.
He didn’t even realize I was gone this morning. If I had been murdered last night, he wouldn’t even have noticed. Would he have reported me missing or would that have been too much effort? The space behind my eyes hurts just considering it.
“I got invited to dinner tonight. By Khur’s sister. She invited you as well.”
He doesn’t seem to notice my tone, just starts shaking his head, looking at the floor, like he always does.
“I’m so tired, Destiny. I think I have jetlag.”
I almost roll my eyes but contain myself.
I am kind of surprised by the vitriol inside of me, but at the same time, it feels like a long time coming.
We’re on a freaking space station with everything you could think of at your fingertips.
There were so many forms to fill out and interviews to do when I applied here, I even had to send in a video of us talking about why we’d be a good fit here.
I covered his ass on all of that, determined not to let him be the reason we were skipped over.
I thought for sure once we got to Sanctuary, things would improve. It’s only been two days. Not even 48 hours, really. He needs time to settle. I need to be more patient with him. I take a deep breath, exhaling through my nose.
“Ok. I understand. I’ll see if I can bring you some leftovers home.”
“Would you show me how to use the food machine one more time? I’m a bit peckish now.”
“If you're hungry, just come with me to Khur’s. I'll help you get some clean clothes to change into. Maybe you could take a shower?”
I don’t know why I choose now to push, except I really want to make a good impression, and maybe also because it would be great if I didn’t have to do everything alone. I should know better, though.
“I said I’m tired!” He snaps, suddenly more awake than he's been thus far.
I almost flinch at the rise in his voice, but school my features quickly. This is my father. He is sick. He doesn’t mean to be hurtful.
“Dad, please. I am asking you to do this for me. It would mean a lot to me.”
“Destiny, you got me here, didn’t you? We moved to this station out in the middle of god knows where, surrounded by aliens. You got what you wanted, now would you leave me the hell alone?”
The tail of his bathrobe whips around him as he spins around, the fastest I’d seen him move in years, and storms back down the hall.
I imagine I would have heard a door slam if they weren’t motion-detecting pocket doors that slide open with a muted swish.
I stand there in shock, mouth open and tears threatening to spill, for several seconds.
Did I drag my dad here unwillingly? I thought this was a good opportunity for us.
It’s not like we have a lot of prospects.
Earth is off the table for at least 120 years.
Farming moons and factory planets promised life a little closer to what we might have been used to, but I was never enamored with the 9-5 capitalist culture that ensconced our life back then.
I thought anyone would be thrilled to have an opportunity like the one I’ve secured for us at Sanctuary.
Had I been wrong? Did my dad resent me for dragging him across the universe?
I want to go to my room and have a good cry about it, honestly, but I’m scared to.
If I let the sadness takeover, for even just a few minutes, will it stay forever?
Will I end up like my dad, across the hall in my own bed, musty bathrobe and matted hair and the sour smell of sweat, and nothing but the sadness just weighing me down until I couldn’t even leave the house?
I can’t risk it. So I dash the tears teetering on my lashes with the back of my fist and stomp into my bedroom to freshen up.
I don’t have much, but the few things I do have are precious.
I unzip and slip out of the top half of my jumpsuit to tug on one of my only pieces of clothing: a dusky mauve V-necked sweater.
I tuck it into the jumpsuit then artfully tie the loose sleeves around my waist, tucking and pulling fabric until the “pants” don’t look too bulky and the outfit accents my generous hips and ass.
Then I dig around the bottom of my bag that contains everything I own and find a thin silver chain with a crescent moon on it and clasp it around my neck.
It’s a trinket, probably originally bought at one of those fast fashion shops in the mall.
I traded someone for it before I left the satellite for two tampons.
Now I admire the trinket between my cleavage happily.
It is the perfect little touch, and while I would have been thrilled for a bit of lipstick, I recognize that beggars can’t be choosers and looking on the bright side means you’re grateful for what you get.
As I’m leaving I consider saying something to Dad. I never did show him how to use the food maker thing again. Instead I duck out quickly, guilt nipping at my heels. Maybe if he’d watched the orientation videos we’d both been sent he would know how to make himself something to eat.
I don’t remember the walk home from Khur’s taking as long this morning as it does walking back this evening, but being that time is relative and there isn’t even a visible star for us to base our hours on here, I’ll admit my perception is way off.
It is definitely not the lack of a certain big, horned alien that is making this walk take forever.
My belly is filled with a light, airy feeling I can’t describe.
I think I might puke or possibly float up into the traffic of flyers above me.
I could easily lie to myself and blame the butterflies on nerves regarding dinner in general, spending time with new people so different from myself.
A little voice in the back of my head, though, calls me out on that lie. You’re excited to see Khur. A big, overbearing alien you don’t even know. Shame on you, alien hussy. That inner voice can be so judgemental.
I do know him though, I reason with myself.
He saved my life and while he was a bit much, he has been kind and protective.
And his dark gaze seems to be drawn to me as much as I am drawn to him.
I was never into hairy dudes at home, but all I keep thinking about now is sinking my hands into the soft fur around his shoulders and neck.
I wonder just how much hair he has under that jumpsuit.
Is he completely hairy…down there? How would that work? And why am I so intrigued to find out?