Ultraviolet Catastrophe(5)
Author: Jamie Grey

“This is Dad’s house?” My voice rose in shock. Evidently, his neglect didn’t just extend to his only child.

Mom’s lips thinned, but she nodded. “Just remember your dad’s very busy at work. He doesn’t have time to focus on gardening.”

“He could have gotten a Cylon to do it,” I muttered.

I pushed open the car door, and a wave of sticky heat instantly turned my dark hair frizzy and coated my skin with sweat. I tugged at the strap of my tank top and slowly turned in a circle to check out the rest of the neighborhood. It was full of houses just like my dad’s, though most of them looked neat and tidy. Half a dozen kids played basketball in a driveway down the block, but otherwise, the hot, humid afternoon was silent. Even the trees felt like they were asleep, their leaves heavy and still.

Mom struggled up the front walk with my suitcase. “Grab your bag.” She’d packed light, just an overnight bag, and I frowned at it sitting on the back seat before gathering the rest of my things.

Mom grabbed the key from under the front mat and went inside, and I paused. She knew where the key to Dad’s house was? Robot security guards weren’t the only freaky things going on in this town. A bead of sweat trickled down my back, and I squared my shoulders to follow her.

Inside, the house seemed nice enough if a little bare. The front door opened directly into the living room with a long hallway off to one side leading to what I assumed were the bedrooms.

“Your room is the last door on the left.” Mom glanced around the house and shook her head before dumping my suitcase on the floor and heading back outside for the last load.

I stared at her. She knew where my room was, too? What the hell was going on?

The house smelled of cologne and stale air, like Dad was only here often enough to shower. Maybe he was. Yet another thing I didn’t know about him. I tucked my hair behind my ears and tightened my grip on my bag. I wasn’t going to find my room just standing here.

The first door was open, and a quick peek inside at the navy bedspread and sparse decorations confirmed it was my dad’s bedroom. My heart did a little flip at the picture of me and Mom on his nightstand. The next room was empty, though it seemed to be a decent size. Might be nice for an office or something. I didn’t pay it too much attention; I was already drawn to the last door on the left.

My hand shook as I turned the knob and pushed open the door. I don’t know what I expected, but it looked just like any other room. Full-sized bed, a large wooden dresser, plain vanilla walls. Empty of personality. Dad obviously hadn’t gone to any trouble to make me feel welcome here. To make his daughter feel at home. I tried to ignore the disappointment clogging my throat and dumped my suitcase on the bed.

I heard Dad’s voice floating in from the hallway. I was tempted to wait for him to come to me, but instead, I took a deep breath and headed toward the kitchen.

3

I froze just inside the door.

Dad’s fingers were tangled in the hair at the back of Mom’s neck. Her hands inched toward his waistband. Their bodies were pressed so close together I couldn’t figure out where one left off and the other began.

Mom and Dad were kissing. Kissing?

Oh. My. God.

I stumbled back, tripping over a bag in the hallway, and they jumped apart. Mom’s fingers flew to her lips, and she wiped them furtively.

“What are you doing?” I could barely get the words out.

Dad tugged at the front of his shirt and gave me a hesitant smile. “Lexie. It’s so good to see you. I can’t believe it’s been almost a year.” He crossed the room and pulled me into a huge bear hug.

I inhaled the warm scent of soap and the faint tang of metal that always clung to his clothes. Part of me wanted to stay there forever, to feel safe and loved for a change, but I pulled away. I’d grown out of being Daddy’s little girl a long time ago.

Dad stared at me, shifted his weight. “Um. You look good, honey. I like your hair long.”

I tugged self-consciously at the dark brown strands. I’d gotten Mom’s beautiful brown eyes, but unfortunately, I’d also inherited her unruly hair. Before we’d left, I’d straightened out the frizz and left it down from my usual ponytail, though now I didn’t know why I’d bothered. I was only coming to visit Dad.

“I’ve been growing it out for a while. Not that you’d know. And stop trying to change the subject. When are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Language, please,” Mom admonished from where she had retreated to the kitchen sink.

I glared at them, and when Dad glanced at Mom for help, I lost it. “You two were kissing. What aren’t you telling me? Is one of you dying?”

Mom raised her eyebrow at Dad and shrugged. “I’ve been putting her off since we talked Thursday night. She needs to know the truth.”

He shook his head, absently running a finger over the frayed cuff of his shirtsleeve. “Maria, you know we can’t tell her everything. There are security clearances and non-disclosure statements and…”

The breath whooshed out of my lungs. “Hold up. Security clearances? Seriously, what is this about?”

Mom ignored my questions and frowned at Dad. “You promised when the time came, we’d be straight with her. The time is now.”

Dad let out a huge sigh. “I know, but I thought we’d have more time to, you know…” He gestured helplessly. “…prepare.”

Screaming was quickly becoming a viable option in this conversation, next to running from the room. Or melting into a puddle of freak-out tears. “One of you start talking. Now.”

Mom picked up a kitchen towel and began pleating its edge. It was never a good sign when she wouldn’t even look at me. I sank onto one of the hard kitchen chairs before my knees gave out.

Finally, she looked up, her eyes glistening, and my stomach clenched. “Do you remember playing school with your dad when you were little? He’d have you pretend to do homework while he worked through problems of his own?”

I nodded. I’d loved feeling like Dad and I were working on the same equations, like I was helping him, even if it had only been pretend.

“They were actually tests. IQ tests to be exact. And you scored very well.”

Oh god. This was insane. I clutched my hands together in my lap so they couldn’t see them shaking. “How well?”

“Your results were off the charts, Lex,” said Dad. “You were solving math equations most of our scientists can’t finish.”