My Crazy Hot Interstellar Affair

49. Time-Traveling Teen Never Misses Curfew

François pinched the aquiline pale bridge of his nose. "Oh, dear. Perhaps telling you now was an error. Sometimes I do not take the time to contemplate my words before speaking. Actually, now I remember, I wasn't supposed to mention this. Oh well, you cannot unring a gong."

"Huh? Oh, you mean 'bell.' You can't unring a bell." Even under duress, Andie still reacted to crimes against the English language. Sometimes being right about a small thing makes you feel better about all your fuck-ups.

Andie had a lot of those.

"I'm afraid you're more in gong territory than bell." François extended his hand to help her up from the floor. While falling, she had knocked over her almost-full teacup, resulting in a sore and wet behind. Kind of like when she landed in François's presence on the Starship Magnificent. I But one could hardly blame her for literally falling out of her seat when learning the news that her baby was a time traveler!

No, no, no! "You're totally right. Gong it is."

François cleared his throat and his perfect posture became even more erect. "Would it be possible for me to use your facilities?" he said, obviously trying to give her a moment to recover. Andie pointed him toward the powder room.

She wished she had time to assess, categorize, and digest this newfound information about her offspring. Contemplate the effects a time-traveling child would have on parenting. Or merely curl up in a ball and cry. But she needed to pack, and there wasn't a minute to spare. Many people could be after already. People (and aliens) who wouldn't be sending her 'Wishing you all the best with your little bundle of joy' cards from Hallmark. People at The First Bank of Hollywood, the Feds, the police in at least two jurisdictions, alien hunters, anyone at the Star Enquirer, her landlord, and probably others she couldn't even remember at the moment. Luckily, her 'front of the line' enemies, Cyra, and Talia, would not be a problem today, Cyra due to brain issues and Talia because of lion issues.

Andie waddled to her bedroom (waddling due to the back of her robe being wet and NOT because she was hugely pregnant!) and shut the door.

Hands on hips, ignoring the wet stain on her bum, she surveyed the meager contents of her bedroom. Luckily, it made sense to travel light. She'd buy whatever she needed when she got to Bhutan. So only the essentials. She brought down the heavy brown leather vintage audit bag from the shelf on the top of her closet. The bag had belonged to her dad and was one item she couldn't part with, even when she thought he was a reprehensible felon. It came down in a shower of dust. Wiping it clean, she discovered that the bag, with its worn handle and scratched, faded leather, was beautiful, not in spite of its imperfections, but because of them. Andie sneezed.

"Bless you," Bad Andie said.

"Thanks."

"So, a time-traveler, huh? Wow! Does put things into perspective. Seems so quaint, those days where our biggest worry was being zapped by an alien baby during a diaper change. That's the thing about life. Just when you think there can be nothing worse, there is."

"Thanks for the pep talk."

"Glad to help. Oooh! I keep spinning out scenarios of having a time-traveling kid! You pack, I'll talk. Scenario one: imagine a daughter. Let's call her 'Brittanie,' has been gone for four hours, and you text her (because of course you have inter-time-dimensional texting) and the conversation goes ...

Mom: Britt, when are you?

Britt: The 70s

Mom: I told you not to go to the 1970s! Why do you insist on defying me? It's dangerous there! All those striped bell-bottoms, granny dresses, and platform heels. You could trip over the hem! Not to mention the terrible music. Come home now!