Page 77 of Pulled By the Tail
If they went to the courthouse and applied for a marriage license that day, they could schedule an appointment with a judge, but she had no idea what was a reasonable amount of time to expect to wait. A few weeks, most likely. Maybe she’d find a dress, not that she wanted a fancy wedding gown, but it would be nice to be married in something other than yesterday’s sweater and leggings.
They went to the courthouse and had an appointment with a judge that afternoon. Amazingly.
Georgia sat at the café table, nursing her cup of tea. The brew was a rich, sugary, black tea that zipped through her veins. She recognized the sweet ambrosia of caffeine at the first sip. She’d keep that revelation to herself, lest Talen take the cup away, but she wouldn’t have more than one cup. Moderation was fine. Freema, a genuine human doctor, said one cup a day would be safe.
She inhaled the aroma, enjoying how it was the opposite of lawn clippings. Maybe she could get some to take home.
Talen drummed his fingers on the tabletop, ignoring his own cup.
“It’s getting cold,” she said.
“I have two confessions,” he blurted.
Something akin to dread curled in her stomach. They were getting married, he asked, she said yes. Now he had something to tell her and it couldn’t be good. “You better not have another wife.” She blinked, surprised at herself. “Sorry, I thought I was over that.”
He looked around the café and leaned in conspiratorially. “Talent Achaval is not my birth name.”
As far as secrets went, that was a dud.
“I knew that,” she said with relief.
“How?”
“Well, you told me that your parents were murdered. You fled your planet and moved around a lot. I assumed a new identity was part of all that.” She kept her voice low and confidential.
He nodded. “My parents did name me Talent. That remains true.”
She didn’t ask for his original family name. As hard as it was to imagine danger in a bright, sunny café with the perfect cup of sugary tea, there could be danger yet in the events that took his parents two decades ago.
“Do you want to know who I am?” he asked.
“I know who you are.” The father of her child. Her husband. Her love.
The noise of the café surrounded them, the murmur of voices and the clatter of dishes. A door opened and cool air wafted in.
“You carry my heart.” He reached across the table for her hand. “I am honored you have chosen me. My spirit is filled with joy. Every day I think this the happiest a male could be, but I am wrong because what I feel today pales with my love for you tomorrow. And I am terrified of being a father.”
Not a dud secret. Not even a little bit.
His grip on her hand tightened, waiting for her response.
“I’m scared, too,” she said. “Being a parent is scary.”
“But I do not know how to be a father.”
“Well, no one really knows until they do the on-the-job training.” She stroked her thumb across his wrist and his grip eased. He was such a large man, absolutely massive. Sitting at this tiny table, in a tiny chair, drinking from a toy-sized cup, he should have looked ridiculous, but he didn’t. He looked like a man who was comfortable with himself and his place in the world. She couldn’t imagine a stronger, safer person, or a better dad. “You’re going to be a great dad.”
His tail thumped against the thin legs of the table, rattling the cups sitting in saucers. “I would sit with my father while he worked, as long as I remained quiet. How is that enough? Maybe I would have seen my father more if I was older, but I don’t think he spent much time with Quil, either.”
“But he was there, and he wanted you there.” Which was more than her father ever did.
“He tolerated my presence when I was old enough to sit quietly. That is not the kind of father I want to be.”
“I think that counts for a lot, knowing your strengths and weaknesses. Usually, people just imitate what their parents did,” she said. Her father yelled, stank of beer, and came and went with the seasons, sweeping chaos into their lives. Her mother endured with tired eyes until he left for good. “I don’t want to be the kind of parent my parents were, either.”
He stared at her as though she just babbled nonsense. “My parents were no parents at all. They hired a nursemaid.”
“There you go. Do that.”
