Alien Proliferation

“Oh, thank you.”
    Jeff took Jamie from me. “Open it.”
    “Jeff, I don’t have anything for you.”
    He gave me a blank look. “Why should you?”
    “Uh, Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year’s, whatever reason you’re giving me this.”
    “Just had my child. I’d have given it to you a week ago, but for some reason, things were a little tense.”
    “Oh.” Felt stupid. “I should still have something for you.” Jeff was incredibly thoughtful, and I was incredibly not-so-thoughtful.
    He laughed. “Open it, baby. I like giving you presents a lot more than I like getting them. You are my present, remember? And you gave me the next best present in the world a week ago.” He kissed Jamie, who cooed at him and the lights.
    I opened. The light from the Christmas tree showed a beautiful scarf—in red. “Oh, wow, Jeff. Color! And it’s gorgeous, too.”
    “Unroll it.”
    As I did, I felt something smaller inside. Decided it would be smart to finish unrolling carefully. A diamond tennis bracelet landed in my palm. “Oh, Jeff. Oh, my God.” There was one charm hanging on it, a single diamond encircled in platinum, with December 25th etched on it.
    “We can add more, if . . . you still want more.” He sounded hesitant. I looked up at him. I could tell what he hoped I’d say, but also that if I didn’t, he’d still love me.
    I leaned up and kissed him. “Jeff, I want as many of your children as we’re given. Whether that’s one, two, or many.”
    “Really?”
    I laughed. “Yes. Really. And I want to practice all the time, too. Just so we never miss a chance and all that.”
    He grinned. “Like I’ve said since the moment I met you, I love how you think.”
    Jeff kissed me again, our usual wonderful kiss. Then he gave me Jamie, put the bracelet on my wrist, wrapped the red scarf around my neck, and put his arm around my shoulders. We stood there, watching the tree that represented, in its way, everything we worked and sacrificed for every day, while the snow fell softly on our little family and the rest of our lives stretched ahead of us.
    It was the best New Year’s Eve of my life.
     
    Click here for more books by this author

Coming in April 2012.
The fifth novel in the Alien series from Gini Koch
ALIEN DIPLOMACY
 

 
Read on for a sneak preview
     
    “W HO’S THAT?” LEN ASKED.
    “Someone from my Washington Wife class.”
    “Why’s he here?” Kyle asked.
    “No idea.”
    I pondered this weirdness for about half a block, when a familiar figure with black hair and beard stepped out of a doorway. He was dressed as I was used to, in casual, baggy, well worn but clean clothes, big camera around his neck. I still couldn’t tell if the clothes were hiding muscles or pudginess. He was under six feet and much smaller than Len and Kyle all the way around.
    He beamed at me, blue eyes twinkling. “Here you are, my favorite alien lover.”
    “Mister Joel Oliver, always a pleasure. Meet Len and Kyle, my friends who, like me, don’t believe in aliens.”
    Oliver snorted. His snort was a lot more like mine than Mrs. Darcy Lockwood’s. I wondered for a moment what her opinion was of Mister Joel Oliver, then figured it had to be poor. He was the main investigative reporter for the World Weekly News after all, and I didn’t have to ask to know what Lockwood thought of those kinds of newspapers.
    Len and Kyle nodded at him. “Nice to meet you, Mister Oliver,” Len said, in a tone indicating he was lying.
    Oliver smiled wider. “Mister Joel Oliver, please. As Missus Martini is well aware, a man in my position needs to ensure whatever shreds of respect he can garner. How are you, my dear?”
    “I’m good. Why are we having this conversation?”
    Kyle shoved past Oliver, gently, as Len took my arm and kept me and the stroller moving along.
    Oliver wasn’t fazed, of course. He trotted along with us. “I have more information,” he said quietly.
    “This is you barking. This is me being the wrong tree.”
    “I can’t risk going to your oldest friend right now,” Oliver said as he tried to get a couple of snaps of Jamie, which Kyle quite effectively blocked. Football players as paparazzi protection was rather brilliant. Not a surprise Chuckie had come up with it.
    “And why is that?”
    “I’m being followed.” He said it calmly.
    “Turn about being fair play and all that?” Hey, I had a sarcasm knob, too.
    Oliver sighed. “I’m not your enemy. But I believe the people following me