An Unexpected Debt – Chapter 10

Hummus, tabbouleh, kibbeh, olives, and stuffed grape leaves. Bread with the most amazing olive oil. Roasted nuts and vegetables.

I haven’t eaten this well in a long ass time.

I lean away from the low table and cover my bulging belly with my hand.

“I hope you saved room for dessert,” Amira’s mother says, lifting the plates from the table and handing them off to one of her two husbands. “We have rice pudding.”

When I said a hot new restaurant, Amira’s mom took that as a challenge to cook us a huge meal instead. In this case, I’m totally fine with an evening in. Dinner was delicious.

I groan but smile at the same time. “I am so stuffed, but I always save room for dessert.” Like every other kid in the universe, I joked that I had a second stomach set aside just for desserts, and it’s true. Dessert is not something I can say ‘no’ to.

“Let’s grab our drinks and head outside for a walk,” Amira says, pulling herself up off the floor cushions.

“Yes, yes, young ladies. Go outside and enjoy the fresh air. The hyacinths are in bloom.” Amira’s mom smiles as she pops an olive in her mouth and sits back with her datapad.

Amira drops her voice. “Mom’s going to get caught up on her latest dramas while we’re out of the house.”

Her mom smiles and waves her hand at us, shooing us from the room.

Outside, Amira and I amble through her neighborhood gardens. Everyone on this block shares this outdoor space full of green plants and tall trees to shade us from the sunset. Families stroll the paths while their kids run ahead. Couples take photos together under the wide green trees. It’s a peaceful place.

“Sorry, Denis couldn’t make it tonight. I was really looking forward to you meeting him.”

“It’s all right,” I say, walking along at her side. “It was a last-minute idea. I’m glad I could come, regardless. You grew up here?” We find a nearby bench and sit down.

Amira sips her beer and nods. “Yeah. I think we moved here when I was two? Dad would remember. He’s much better with dates than I am. Most of my family lives around here. I have cousins everywhere.”

I sit back and stretch my legs in front of me, crossing them at the ankles. “Your mom only has the two husbands?”

“Now, yes. Reardon, her second, died ten years ago. Bone cancer. It happened so quickly that they couldn’t help him.” She shrugs. “He only fathered my brother, Daiam.”

“He’s the one in pre-law?”

She points at me. “The very same.” She inhales deeply and lets all the air out with a sigh. “Ah, it’s good to have you here, Sky. Mom seeing my friends makes this very real, you know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Amira has always been a bit of a loner, by her own admission. She studied and worked hard to get her Class Three license in the same flight school class as me. Her family has flown cargo haulers and worked out of Palo Alto for generations. Her father isn’t home right now because he’s out hauling goods from Sonoma to Laguna. Her mother leaves tomorrow to take parts from here to Lee Shipyards. Her entire family is busy busy busy, in and out of space all the time. They don’t own their ships, but their business is worth a lot of money. They secure enough contracts to get the jobs done, and they put their trust in the right people.

Unlike my mother.

“I’m terrible about keeping friends. I was always on the move as a kid,” Amira says, her eyes focused on the garden.

I reach over and squeeze her arm. “Me too. I went to far-school a few times before I turned eighteen, but it was never enough to make lasting friends. I wanted to go away to school so badly. All the other ship kids did, you know? But the dads wouldn’t allow it. My only real friend is my cousin, Vivian.”

She sips her beer again. “We moved here for good when I was in my teens.” She waves her hand. “I mean, we’ve had the place since I was a baby, but that doesn’t mean we spent any real time here.” She chuckles. “Oh no, nothing like that. My brothers lived here with my dad, and Mom and I spent most of our time together flying. Once I got the taste of flying, I couldn’t stop.”

My breath stops in my chest, and I have to force it up and out.

“We’re so alike. It’s a little nuts.” I laugh and widen my eyes at her. She laughs, too. “Look, we did what we could, right? We followed the instructions of our parents and kept everything in line. Now, it’s time to make this situation work for us.” I sigh. “I’ve spent years, more than a decade, raising kids and keeping my homestead afloat. Running shipments around for my mom. Finishing up my schooling early so I could be more help at home. Going through one flight school remotely and then our school.” I chug down my beer and stop a burp. “Making sure dishes were washed, and groceries were ordered, and fuel was purchased, and —”

“Wait, wait,” Amira says, holding up her hand. “You did all that?” When I nod, her mouth drops open. “Holy fuck, Sky. You’re not supposed to be doing any of that. That’s what the husbands and consorts are for.”

My returning grin is sad. “Not in my family. Those were my jobs. And let me just say, I’m a crap mother to my brothers and sisters. My younger sister, Ana, is so fucked up, and most of it is because of me. I ignored her eating disorder for years because I thought she would just get over it.” I roll my eyes at myself. “How fucking stupid do you have to be to believe that? I should have had her in counseling when she was an early teen.”

Amira’s breathing is measured. “You said your home life was hard, but this? This is not why relationship networks were developed. What did your mom say about it?”

I shake my head. “I have no idea. Whenever I tried to complain to her about it, about the utter unfairness of it all, she told me not to act spoiled.” I shrug. “I suspect now that the consorts lied to her about me.” I sigh again. “I just kept at it. Because I thought, someday, I would inherit the ship and the business.”

Amira’s mouth is open, and her stare is wide. “I am shocked. Honestly. I want to deck your mother’s consorts.” Her hand closes in a fist.

“What’s done is done,” I tell her, even though, deep inside, my gut burns with anger over it. “My childhood wasn’t much of a childhood. The dads had me taking care of the young kids when I was barely out of diapers myself. But I made it work, and I survived.” I toast her with the last of my beer. “But my mother may not survive if I don’t get her ships back.”

Amira blows a short breath out between her lips. “I’m not sure why you’d want to help your mom after the way she ignored you for years.”

I think on her statement for a moment, looking down at the concrete pavers below my feet. Do I really want to help Mom?

I guess I should?

I should.

“Trust me. I have doubted my own sanity several times since this happened. But I want those ships back. She had no right to sell off my future, not after everything I’ve done for my family. I’m going to get them back. I’ll worry about everything else after.”

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, and you may not like it.”

My neck prickles, but I trust Amira. “Shoot.”

“Blood relations mean nothing if honesty and respect are not a part of the equation. Sure, I would do anything for my family, but that’s because I know they would do anything for me. If you can’t say that about your mom or her consorts or your brothers and sisters, then they’re not family. I don’t care how much blood you share.”

I nod and take in this advice. And though it’s sound, rational, and even wise, it doesn’t apply to me. I’m a Kawabata, and family means more than anything to us. Whatever has happened with Mom and our family and our business, I need to fix it.

“Done?” Amira asks, jerking her chin at my beer. I hand over my empty bottle, and she puts them in a nearby recycling station. She dusts off her hands. “Good. We have just enough time to go visit your new engineer before Mom lays out the dessert.”

I jump to my feet. “My new engineer?”

Amira turns and points at a building on the other side of the park. “Come on.”

We wind through the park to a ten-story building covered in greenery. All the buildings on Palo Alto are like this. At first, I thought it was a little strange, but I really enjoy seeing green everywhere, and it keeps everything cool, even on the hottest days. Maybe someday, I’ll live on a planet too.

I have no idea if that’s even something I want.

Amira waves her wristlet at the front entry, and the security door clicks open after a few seconds. We skip the elevator and take the stairs up two flights to the second floor.

A door is open at the end of the hall, and Amira trots up to it with a smile on her face.

“Amira, darling. There you are!”

“Jada,” Amira says, melting into the arms of the woman waiting for her. She pulls away. “This is the friend I was telling you about. Skylar Kawabata, this is Jada… uh, Nisrine. Sorry,” she says to the woman. “I’m so used to calling you Jada.”

“Jada?” I whisper, turning my head to the side.

“It means ‘grandma,’” she whispers back.

Nisrine must be at least seventy years old, if not older. Age is so hard to tell when anti-aging therapies from Athens Industries are all the rage. Her waist-length silver hair is pulled into a braid, and she’s wearing a tank top and flowing pants. Damn. This woman is cut. She must lift weights. She looks great, but it’s her skin that shows her age. She spends a lot of time in the sun. One thing being on a ship is good for — young-looking skin.

I freeze with my smile in place and try to lean forward to look into Nisrine’s apartment. Who’s this engineer Amira was talking about? Nisrine’s daughter? Granddaughter?

When Nisrine offers her hand to shake, I snap back into my head.

“You must be Skylar. So good to meet you,” Nisrine says, unclasping her hand from mine and gesturing to her apartment. “Come in. Come in.”

In the living room, Nisrine has the same low table Amira’s mom had at her place. It must be a cultural thing to sit so close to the floor. We have similar tables back at Vivian’s house because they’re a thing in Japanese culture. She’s laid out the table with fruits, nuts, and coffee. The powerful aroma of coffee draws me forward.

“I hope you love coffee as much as I do,” Nisrine says, drawing us through her living room. “I was hoping to share.”

“Mmmm, it smells delicious,” I say. “I’d love some.”

Amira smiles as she sits next to me. She bumps her shoulder against mine and tips her chin at the photos on the wall. I look past Nisrine to focus on the photos, and my heart speeds up.

I take in each photo while Nisrine pours coffee. One is Nisrine, about twenty years younger, in an engine room, covered in grease but laughing at the camera. Another is Nisrine with a spaceship crew. Nisrine in wedding white, walking down a church aisle with a handsome man on her arm. Another similar photo with a different man. Nisrine holding two new babies with three men standing around her proudly. Nisrine posing on a spaceport tarmac next to a Tanuki class cruiser. Oh my god, it’s the Amagi. Or not the Amagi, but close enough.

“Jada, I’m afraid I’ve been a little secretive,” Amira says, taking her cup of coffee. “I didn’t tell Skylar about you before we walked over here. In my defense, Mom kept serving us food, and there wasn’t much time to talk after dinner.”

Nisrine sits down cross-legged on the cushion. She’s lithe, like a rubber band, and her leg relaxes down like I’ve only seen yoga instructors accomplish.

“That’s okay. I’m sure your mother stuffed you to the gills. Skylar, Amira tells me you fly a Tanuki class cruiser, and you’re looking to find an engineer.”

My heart migrates up my throat, and I leave the coffee on the table. “Amira is correct. I need an engineer. My previous one is now my cousin’s husband. He’s fantastic, and he put most of the systems together. But he’s taking care of other things.”

Nisrine sips her coffee. “What’s your primary income for your ship? I’m sorry, I don’t think Amira told me its name.”

“The Amagi. It means ‘raincoat’ in Japanese. All the ships in my family’s fleet are named after old Japanese naval ships. And I have two primary incomes. We possess a Diamond Level permit from Flyght, and we also have running contracts with my cousin’s company, Kawabata Holdings.”

“Oh yes,” she says, tipping back her head. “I heard about Kawabata Holdings two years ago, didn’t I? Same last name. They’re back in business?”

“Yes, back in business. Most of my income will come from them, and Vivian, my cousin, will pay the salaries of my employees for the first two years.”

I hold my breath for a moment and decide to jump.

“So, you know someone who would be a good fit for my ship? I see you’re an engineer.” I nod to the photos on the wall and sip my coffee.

Amira chuckles, and Nisrine smiles at her.

“Jada is not really my grandmother,” Amira says, leaning forward to grab a handful of nuts. “She’s my grandmother’s younger sister, my great aunt. All her kids and grandkids are grown and spread over the Duo Systems, and now she’s looking for something to do.”

I raise my eyebrows. Wait a second.

“That’s right. It’s time for me to get back into the engine room.” She flexes her right bicep, and I whistle. They both laugh. “Amira said you don’t want a man for an engineer, and I’m way past wanting to build a network. I have one of those and don’t need any more men.”

“Where are your consorts?” I ask, glancing around the room. It looks like only she lives here.

“Two of them have already passed on. The last is living in the north where he’s more comfortable.”

And that’s all she’s going to say about that, huh? Well, let’s face it. Not everyone wants to live with their network forever.

“We see each other, maybe, twice a year.” She waves her hand. “I spent twenty-five years in engine rooms, and I miss them. I don’t want to sit here for the rest of my life.” She glances around her tiny apartment. “And I never owned land. So… Anyway, Tanuki class cruisers are my favorite.” Her eyes twinkle with glee. “I would be honored to be considered. Any chance you’ll take me on for a provisional contract?”

I glance at Amira to make sure this is not a joke. Amira’s grin is sincere, though.

“Um, pardon this question, but wouldn’t you rather live out your retirement in comfort?”

She laughs as she sets down her coffee mug. “Oh honey, I am seventy-seven years old, and I have at least another thirty years ahead of me. Let’s not be boring, shall we?”

“No, let’s not,” I say, lifting my cup again for a sip. “Boring is the worst.”

Amira nudges me with her elbow, and I roll my eyes at her.

“Okay, then, Nisrine. The provisional contract is yours.”