waist and pull her down on my lap.
"But she needs kids her own age to play
with," she argues, struggling internally, much the way I'm sure my
mom did when making these decisions with me.
"Cat, she reads and performs math equations,
at the high school level. And what do you think is going to happen
when a friend takes a toy that she wants, or someone excludes her
from a game of hopscotch? " I lightly challenge. I knew she
considered her childhood extraordinary and felt an obligation to
try and give Claire the same experiences that her parents gave her,
but from a Designer standpoint, school sucks for the genetically
enhanced.
Cat sighs and lifts the ice pack off my
cheek, gingerly running her finger over the now healing laceration,
thanks to Claire's touch.
"All better," she says, changing the
subject. I can see the look of determination on her face and I know
better than to push the issue any further. I was sure the topic
would resurface over and over again in the future, and although it
wouldn't be easy, eventually Cat would make the right decision for
Claire.
***
Cat's Thanksgiving feast is recognized by
all of us, as one of the best we've ever had. Even Bernie, an avid
cook, compliments Cat and the two engage in a long discussion about
cooking techniques, favorite recipes and the perils of cooking with
stainless steel. Burke is the only one absent from today's
festivities. He caught a late flight back to Montana to spend
Thanksgiving with his parents. I felt guilty declining his parents'
offer for Cat and me to join them, but with the loss of my parents
still fresh on everyone's mind, I considered it best to give it
more time. Now, I'm glad I did. The atmosphere at the Freeman house
is jovial, and there is a sense of camaraderie between us, Bernie
included. She tells us that she didn't get married, has no kids,
and most Thanksgiving holidays were spent alone or working. All of
us can relate to her loneliness on some level or another.
Even Brandon, whose parents are still alive,
has spent the past few holidays separated from them. He says that
after the airplane crash had left him disfigured, his parents
stopped including him in their elaborate vacations with their
wealthy, aristocratic friends.
"Everything is about appearances with my
folks," Brandon says, his face crinkling in a lopsided grin. "After
the accident, I think they were too embarrassed to be seen with me
in public." Only Brandon could make such a claim, without any hint
of resentment. In fact, his laughter following the comment is
genuine and we are left with the impression that he really does
find his parents' behavior amusing.
"At least they aren't crazy scientists,
putting you on display like some circus animal," Liz mutters with
much more animosity. It's only when speaking of her father, that I
ever hear Elizabeth express a negative thought or emotion. She is
careful to guard that part of her past, so it's unexpected when she
openly shares a memory of accompanying her dad to a Genetic
Symposium in France. "The event ended with us being escorted from
the building by undercover agents, after threats of violence by
some radical religious group," she tells us, smiling wryly.
"My parents had a lot of respect for your
dad," Alisha says quietly, gazing steadily at Elizabeth.
"Your parents had no idea the length my dad
was willing to go to create a genetically superior class of kids,"
Elizabeth says coldly.
"Your dad had good intentions. He was
horrified when he found out about the virus and worked day and
night to resolve the issue in humans."
We all hold our breath as the two appear to
continue the conversation silently, their facial expressions the
only indicator that the conversation is riddled with conflict.
Finally, Alisha abandons the conversation with Elizabeth and
surprises the rest of us with an unexpected announcement.
"I had a sister who was three years older
than me. Her name was Alexandra. She was born with a blood disorder
called Sickle
"But she needs kids her own age to play
with," she argues, struggling internally, much the way I'm sure my
mom did when making these decisions with me.
"Cat, she reads and performs math equations,
at the high school level. And what do you think is going to happen
when a friend takes a toy that she wants, or someone excludes her
from a game of hopscotch? " I lightly challenge. I knew she
considered her childhood extraordinary and felt an obligation to
try and give Claire the same experiences that her parents gave her,
but from a Designer standpoint, school sucks for the genetically
enhanced.
Cat sighs and lifts the ice pack off my
cheek, gingerly running her finger over the now healing laceration,
thanks to Claire's touch.
"All better," she says, changing the
subject. I can see the look of determination on her face and I know
better than to push the issue any further. I was sure the topic
would resurface over and over again in the future, and although it
wouldn't be easy, eventually Cat would make the right decision for
Claire.
***
Cat's Thanksgiving feast is recognized by
all of us, as one of the best we've ever had. Even Bernie, an avid
cook, compliments Cat and the two engage in a long discussion about
cooking techniques, favorite recipes and the perils of cooking with
stainless steel. Burke is the only one absent from today's
festivities. He caught a late flight back to Montana to spend
Thanksgiving with his parents. I felt guilty declining his parents'
offer for Cat and me to join them, but with the loss of my parents
still fresh on everyone's mind, I considered it best to give it
more time. Now, I'm glad I did. The atmosphere at the Freeman house
is jovial, and there is a sense of camaraderie between us, Bernie
included. She tells us that she didn't get married, has no kids,
and most Thanksgiving holidays were spent alone or working. All of
us can relate to her loneliness on some level or another.
Even Brandon, whose parents are still alive,
has spent the past few holidays separated from them. He says that
after the airplane crash had left him disfigured, his parents
stopped including him in their elaborate vacations with their
wealthy, aristocratic friends.
"Everything is about appearances with my
folks," Brandon says, his face crinkling in a lopsided grin. "After
the accident, I think they were too embarrassed to be seen with me
in public." Only Brandon could make such a claim, without any hint
of resentment. In fact, his laughter following the comment is
genuine and we are left with the impression that he really does
find his parents' behavior amusing.
"At least they aren't crazy scientists,
putting you on display like some circus animal," Liz mutters with
much more animosity. It's only when speaking of her father, that I
ever hear Elizabeth express a negative thought or emotion. She is
careful to guard that part of her past, so it's unexpected when she
openly shares a memory of accompanying her dad to a Genetic
Symposium in France. "The event ended with us being escorted from
the building by undercover agents, after threats of violence by
some radical religious group," she tells us, smiling wryly.
"My parents had a lot of respect for your
dad," Alisha says quietly, gazing steadily at Elizabeth.
"Your parents had no idea the length my dad
was willing to go to create a genetically superior class of kids,"
Elizabeth says coldly.
"Your dad had good intentions. He was
horrified when he found out about the virus and worked day and
night to resolve the issue in humans."
We all hold our breath as the two appear to
continue the conversation silently, their facial expressions the
only indicator that the conversation is riddled with conflict.
Finally, Alisha abandons the conversation with Elizabeth and
surprises the rest of us with an unexpected announcement.
"I had a sister who was three years older
than me. Her name was Alexandra. She was born with a blood disorder
called Sickle
Similar Books
