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“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” his mom said. “And it’s a mom’s prerogative to embarrass her son when he brings his first serious girlfriend to meet the family.”
The first meal was a kind of jelly soup that kept sliding off my spoon. I barely had more than a few spoons of it before the servants came and took it away and replaced it with the next course.
“What are mealtimes like on Earth?” Dyrel’s mom said.
“We have events like this too,” I said. “But most of the time, families have simple meals and talk about their days.”
“Much like ours,” his mom said. “These events are fine, they’re necessary when you have so many people around a single table, but I much prefer smaller, more private meals. So, what brought you to the Titan empire?”
A smuggler.
It was a question Dyrel and I had thought about for a long time. Finally, we decided on a simple, but hopefully, believable story that would explain how our cultures could come together without humans knowing much about the galaxy around them.
“I was sent here by my government to investigate trade between us and the Titan empire,” I said.
“You work for the government?” his mom said.
“It’s more of a private enterprise. I came here to scout for business opportunities if our culture are compatible.”
“How exciting!” Dyrel’s mom said. “Have you traveled to many of our worlds?”
“Only this one. I was out meeting Titans and learning about your culture when I met Dyrel.”
I smiled over him. He smiled back.
“Was it at one of the dance clubs he goes to?” his mom asked, doing nothing to disguise her contempt.
“No,” I said. “It was a small bar. The kind you have a glass of wine and a conversation with friends. I was relaxing after a long day, and there he was, standing at the bar. He sent me a bottle of Titan wine. It was delicious but too much to drink alone. I invited him over and we drank it together. He invited me out for a meal and we got to know each other.”
“What a lovely story,” Dyrel’s mom said. “I’m glad he didn’t meet you at one of those horrible clubs. Music too loud, unable to have a conversation… What is the purpose, I ask you? Except to get up to no good.”
“I used to go to clubs when I was young,” I said.
On the other side of the table, Dyrel bristled.
Oops. I had made a mistake?
“I didn’t go often,” I quickly added. “Just the odd weekend. You do it when you’re young on Earth. I grew out of it.”
“Not everybody grows out of them,” Dyrel’s mom said, pointedly not looking at her son.
An uncomfortable hush settled over those assembled.
I felt the tension rise.
I needed to step in to help relieve it.
“Some of our people on Earth take a while to develop,” I said. “Sometimes they turn out to be the brightest minds we have. Albert Einstein is one of history’s most influential scientists, and he couldn’t speak until he was five. He helped us unlock the deepest mysteries of the universe. Other greats were social recluses, or dyslexic, or hadn’t received much education and later became billionaires. A great man or woman will always find a way eventually. Even if it takes them a little longer than usual.”
I was a little breathless after my outburst.
And then realized everyone was staring at me.
Oh shit. Me and my big fat mouth.
The family was stunned I’d spoken counter to what Dyrel’s mom said.
But I hadn’t really. I only said…
