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Fiercejust shook his head as the older human woman came into view.Shehad elegant blonde hair done up in an elaborate swirl on top of her head and she was wearing expensive looking clothing.Thelook on her face was angry and disapproving as she, too, glared atCeliafrom the viewscreen.
“Cece—thereyou are!” she exclaimed. “Howcouldyou abandon us like that?Doyou know the turkey burned to a crisp?Andthe ham got all dried out—not to mention you didn’t finishanyof the sides before you left!Dinnerwas acompletedisaster!”
Celiafrowned.
“I’msorry,MotherFrances, but it’s not likeIchoseto leave—Iwas legally obligated to go withHoldandFiercebecause of theClaimingLawsand theBrideDraft.OfcourseIwouldn’thave gotten called up ifPeterhad taken my name out, like he said he was going to—”
“Howdareyou try to make excuses and blame all this on poor littlePetey?” the woman demanded, putting an arm around her son protectively. “Youwantedto go with those two big brutes, you shameless hussy!”
Celia’seyes flashed.
“Didyou just call me a ‘shameless hussy’?Really?”
MotherFrancesput a hand on her skinny hip.
“WhatelseshouldIcall a girl who runs off with not one buttwoother men just a month before her wedding?”
“Look,HoldandFiercehave promisednotto do anything like…like that!”Celiaassured her. “I’mjust going to stay up here for the month and hang around theMotherShip.Infact,Igot a temporary job decorating it for theHolidays,” she added, clearly trying to get back in her fiancé’s mother’s good graces.
ButMotherFrances’sscowl only deepened.
“Soyou’re going to be cavorting around up there decorating some alien spaceship.Meanwhile, what about my dear friend,PenelopePenobscot?Ipromisedher you’d drive down to start on her new condo tomorrow.Nowwhat amIgoing to tell her?”
“Tellher thatI’mactually gettingpaidfor this job,”Celiasnapped, clearly having had enough. “Tellher nobody is expecting me to decorate for them for free just because they’re a ‘dear friend’ and they value my time and work up here!”
AtfirstFiercethought the older woman was going to explode with fury.Herface went red and little white dents appeared on either side of her nose as her nostrils flared.Butinstead of shouting, she simply whirled on her heel and left, her blond hair flying behind her.
“Ohdear!”Peter, who had been standing by and not doing a thing to defendCeliafrom his mother’s rage remarked. “Nowyou’ve done it!Howcouldyou be so rude toMummy,Celia?Andafter she’s been so kind to you and taken you into our family, too?”
Celiadidn’t say anything to that.Fierceexpected her to explode but she only clenched her hands into fists and stared at her fiancé on the viewscreen with a white face.
“Whydoesn’t shesaysomething?Whydoesn’t she put him in his place?” he growled toHold.
Buthis brother only shook his head.
“Herbusiness, not ours,” he remindedFierce.
AtlastCeliaspoke.
“Peter,Ithink it’s better if we don’t call each other for a while,” she said. “I’msorry ifIupset your mother, but it’s not my fault thatI’mup here.Also, sheshouldn’thave promised her friendI’dbe there to decorate her condo tomorrow without asking me first.I’mnot one of her servants who she can just order around!”
“Nobodysaidyou were a servant!”PeterThielgoodsighed and ran a hand through his thinning blond hair.
“Well, that’s how you treat me!”Celiaburst out. “Doyou know not asingleperson offered to help me make that hugeThanksgivingdinner your mother decided we should have?Ihad to doallof it—from the shopping to the prep work to the cooking!”
“Well, youdidn’tdo a very good job of it, considering you burned the turkey,” he snapped nastily.
Celia’sface went red with anger.
“MadredeDios!Theturkeywouldn’thave burned if any of you had any idea how to cook and had watched it!” she exclaimed. “It’snot my fault that you apparently just left it in the oven without checking it afterIhad to leave!”
PeterThielgoodthrew up his hands—(soft, feminine hands that had never seen a day’s hard labor or held the hilt of a sword or the grip of a blaster,Fiercethought contemptuously.)
“Ican’t talk to you right now,” he toldCelia. “I’venever seen you like this.Sorude…socommon.”
“Wellif it’s ‘common’ to know how to cook and to point out that at leastoneperson in your family ought to know how too, then yes,IguessI’m‘common’,”Celiasnapped. “Dios,Peter—what do you expect from me?Iwasn’t raised with a silver spoon in my mouth!Igrew up inFosterCare—Iwas intwelvedifferent homes intwelvedifferent years.Sopardon me ifInever learned any fancy manners or how to act spoiled and order everyone around like your mother does all the time!”
PeterThielgood’sface went white.
