My Crazy Hot Interstellar Affair

45. Mortified! Area Woman Discovers Mom Actual Mindreader

After being resurrected, almost everything about Star Force One remained the same. It retained its shiny bathtub appearance, for example, only now the walls alternated between a sheen of pink and sky blue from the pulsing honeycomb lights above. A soothing lullaby blanketed the space. The air had a humid, soapy smell, like a bathroom right after a shower; Andie could almost taste talcum powder on her tongue.

Laying it on a little thick, Andie did not say aloud. Though she was charmed by Star's nursery tableau, that didn't mean she wanted anyone to suspect. She avoided Oliver's gaze, although he kept trying to catch her eye. The air between them vibrated with energy. She willed him not to look at her. Not to ask her what was wrong. Because what she had to say would wound him.

But it would practically kill her.

Oliver shook his head in frustration. "Star, what is this new lighting scheme? Please return to normal so I do not acquire a head stone. I mean headache." The ship responded with a hearty jerk, nearly toppling her passengers.

After Oliver caught her, preventing her from falling on her face, Andie tried and failed to hold back a laugh. His malapropisms were just too adorable. "Do you mean headache?"

Oliver pressed his temple. His skin took on a tantalizing rosy hue, most likely caused by his sudden understanding of the colossal difference between a headache and a headstone. Then he frowned. Cleared his throat. "If everyone will buckle in, I will lay a course back to earth." Besides the new lighting scheme, which, Andie noted, Star had not bothered to alter despite Oliver's request. The bridge now sported four plastic chairs, one with a soft pillow on the end seat, which Pilot promptly claimed. He sat erect, like a dog solemnly waiting outside a Starbucks for its owner to finish his venti soy mocha with extra whipped cream. The humanoids took the other three, Rachel next to Pilot. Andie between her mother and Oliver. The seat belt tugged against Andie's chest.

"Oliver, your ship is beautiful," Rachel said, running her fingers along the slippery armrest of the chair. A warm hum emanated from the engines below. Clearly, Star was pleased and seemed to take a liking to Rachel. Beautiful Rachel. Andie prayed her mom would be all right. That leaving the moon wouldn't do her any harm. She may lose her sight, but not her life. Pilot had promised.

"Thank you, Mrs. Bank," Oliver said. "Star, if you would please unmoor, I will set the journey back to earth using Google Galaxy." Oliver raised his muscly arms in the air in that "I'm a hot conductor, and I know how to make your whole body sing," position that made Andie's insides turn to goo. The ship rocked as Star untethered her tail.

As it untwisted, bringing them closer to departure, tension built and coiled around Andie's heart. She still had no solid plan beyond taking the pregnancy test. The Star Enquirer had to go, but how could she, a practically bankrupt, 26-year-old accountant, stop an alien invasion alone?

Bankruptcy ...

An idea formed in her brain. A terrible, horrible idea that burned like acid in her empty stomach. Andie pushed it down, hoping and praying that something less ... personally apocalyptic occurred to her.

Once Star was free, Oliver moved his arms, and the Google Galaxy of colored lights danced across the bridge before disappearing and being replaced by the three-dimensional replica of the universe.

Rachel's eyes widened. "Goddess! I have seen nothing this trippy since Woodstock."

"Mama, you were ten when Woodstock happened," Andie teased. Though a lump formed in her throat. This could be one of the last things her mom ever saw.

"So," her mouth tugged at the edges. "I still remember. It's in the collective consciousness."

"I know you were there." Andie came from a long line of hippies on her mother's side. "But please tell me you weren't taking drugs. At age ten."