Alien in the Family

with him, but I do understand what it’s like to be in the position he’s in.”
    “What’s going to happen to him? James insinuated we didn’t have to worry about MJO for a while.”
    “It’s need to know, Kitty, and you don’t.”
    I decided to give this up. Clearly only I was worried about strange people with stealth cameras following us around, and also clearly Chuckie wasn’t going to tell me what was up with Oliver, either. I prayed it wasn’t going to be something horrible like Oliver had been sent to Guantanamo, but I decided there was nothing I could do about it at this particular time. Besides, supposedly there was a party with my name on it in my near future. “So, where are we going?”
    “Well, while Mix has a great view, I’m not sure it’s your style. It’s sort of hip, cool, and trendy.”
    “I think I should be insulted you know me this well.”
    “Right, so, we’re going to House of Blues.”
    “Cool! Great food.”
    “Live band.”
    “House band?”
    “Not exactly.” He looked as though he was trying not to laugh.
    “Who is it?”
    “Well, we considered booking Aerosmith, but then we realized that would mean you would spend the evening offering yourself to Tyler and Perry, and that didn’t seem like something Martini would appreciate in the short or long run.”
    Dang. They knew me far too well. “So you guys booked this band specially? How in the world could you have done that on this kind of short notice?”
    Chuckie shrugged. “As you said and Cyndi Lauper sang so well, money changes everything.”
    “Elton John?”
    “Bank of Chuckie is not able to make that kind of loan.”
    “I thought you were rich.”
    “I still need to eat next week.”
    “Fine. Girl act or boy act?”
    “Boy, because we also didn’t think it was fair to you to put someone like Gwen Stefani up there so the guys both crashed the party early and spent the time offering themselves up to Gwen. We’re going for ‘fun party’ here, not ‘ending the relationship the night before the wedding.’ I’d like to mention that this is a sacrifice on my part.”
    “You’re both so thoughtful, and you’re a prince. So, do I need to go through my entire iPod or are you going to tell me?”
    “I’m going to make you wait until we’re there.”
    “Humph.”
    Of course, it didn’t take us long to get there. The “closed for private party” signs were kind of cool, since I was part of the private party. Got inside and wondered who all these people were. The place was packed. Realized it was packed with every female relative of mine, a great number of my female friends, every female relative of Martini’s, and a lot of females who were also, technically, relatives of Martini’s. The Dazzler quotient was as high as at the Science Center.
    Chuckie kissed my cheek. “Have fun. Control yourself. At some point, the males will rejoin you. Make sure you’re not doing something Martini will make you regret.”
    “Thanks for the warning, Voice of Doom.”
    He laughed. “I’m here for you should something go wrong.”
    Reader got the rest of the gals inside, then hugged me. “Behave.”
    “It’s a bachelorette party, not tea with the Queen of England. Why are you and Chuckie telling me to be a good girl all of a sudden?”
    Cover-boy grin flashed. “Because we know you, girlfriend. So does Jeff, so you’ll probably be okay.”
    “Yeah, Chuckie said no Aerosmith or Sir Elton.”
    “True. Just think you’ll like the alternative.”
    “Motorhead?”
    “Considered it. Then realized that most of the guests don’t want to hear the loudest rock and roll band in the world up close and personal.” He looked really pleased with himself. “I got Emily and Melanie to promise to take pictures when the band hits the stage.” He kissed me on my cheek, sauntered over to Chuckie and they both sauntered off.
    Food and drink were all over the place. I was pretty full from the girly food, but House of Blues had some yummy stuff out. I managed to find the room to stuff in a good sampling.
    Drinks were flowing. The bars were clearly marked as alcoholic and nonalcoholic. The room was about one-third alkies to two-thirds abstainers. A couple of my cousins, cousins supposedly in the know now, grabbed me and asked me if I was marrying into a Mormon family. Shared I wasn’t, didn’t share that I was marrying an alien—maybe Christopher had come to his and everybody else’s senses and wiped all their