20. It took an impressive amount of lying and a shocking twist of luck, but Odd does have his parents believing that Aelita is his cousin six months after she's materialized (his sister Marie is still skeptical though).
"I met this girl-"
"Oh?" his mother asks. She looks up from the clay she's shaping, eyebrows raised. Odd rolls his eyes and adds more glaze to the sculpture in front of him.
"Not like that, Mamma," he protests. "I met this girl at school. She looked kind of familiar. But her family's from Canada." He watches his mother from the corner of his eye, watches the way the clay escapes her grasp and deforms on the wheel. She steadies her hands, remolds the clay. "We don't know anyone from there, do we?"
"What is this girl's name?" his mother asks. It sounds like a deflection, but Odd's had a lifetime to learn his mother's tells. She's digging.
"Aelita," he states. "Aelita Stones. Like the band."
"Hm," his mother replies, distracted. Odd falls silent, focuses on applying an even layer of glaze to the sea serpent sculpture in front of him. The first step is done. He can wait.
. . … . .
It starts as a joke.
Sort of.
Not really.
It starts because Jeremie wants to be thorough, wants to be prepared this time. Einstein is convinced they need a cover story, need a reason for Aelita to appear mid-year. "We got lucky last time. We can't count on it every time," Jeremie proclaims. "There's no guarantee Yumi's parents will take her in again. Or that they won't be suspicious when she isn't enrolled properly. We have to do things right this time."
Doing things right means registering her though. Means forged documents and legal names and an explanation on why she becomes friends with them so quickly. It means Jeremie pulling all-nighters to hack into the national database and what is Odd's life coming to, honestly?
"Just tell everyone she's my cousin," Odd states late one night. They're gathered in Yumi's kitchen under the guise of studying for an upcoming test. Yumi is plying them with baked treats while Jeremie mutters under his breath about the French government.
"What?" Jeremie asks, pausing mid-rant.
Yumi looks up from where she's mixing batter for crepes. "Why?"
"You said you needed a reason for Aelita to be here. Fine. She's my cousin. Problem six solved, only thirty-eight more to go, yeah?"
Ulrich, who is actually attempting to study, looks up with his head tilted. It's kind of like the look Kiwi gives when he's trying to figure out if Odd really finished the food or is just hiding it behind his back. All he needs is the nose twitch to go along with it. "It would be a reason why she would know us," he says after a moment.
"Why your cousin?" Jeremie pushes. "I don't know anything about Norway."
Odd shrugs, sidles up to Yumi to dip a finger into the batter while she's distracted. She swats him with the whisk. "Well, she can't be Yumi's cousin. They look nothing alike." He pauses, glancing at Ulrich. "She can't be Nature Boy's cousin either. Sissi probably has his family tree memorized like the stalker she is," he adds when it looks like Jeremie might protest. And, it's not a lie per se, but it's not the whole truth either. He sees Ulrich nod; knows he gets what he isn't saying. Odd's never questioned why his best friend hasn't let the others in on his weird history with Sissi Delmas, but it's not Odd's secret to share.
"I could make her my cousin," Jeremie states. There isn't any real conviction in his voice though.
Odd snorts. "Sure, and next time you make heart eyes at her we can just chalk it up to the French's proclivity of marrying their cousins."
"I do not make heart eyes at Aelita."
"You kind of do," Yumi states. She offers him an encouraging smile.
"It's nauseating," Ulrich adds, pulling a face.
Odd is an excellent friend and doesn't mention the other nauseating heart eyed looks he has to put up with. He needs better friends. Friends who will stop mooning over each other at least.
"Fine, but I can't forge something from Norway."
"So do Australia or Canada or something." Odd shrugs, sneaks more batter while Yumi's back is turned. "Princess is nice, they're supposed to be nice too. And Australia has things that want to kill you and guess what, Aelita comes from a place with creatures that want to kill us."
"Think we can teach Ai to say eh after every sentence?" Ulrich questions, mouth twitching.
"I hope so," Odd replies, grinning. He ignores Jeremie's long-suffering sigh and grins wider as Yumi shoves a plate full of warm crepes into his hands.
. . … . .
Odd's mother was an only child. She always told them how lonely it had been, growing up with just herself and her imagination for company. It was why she had wanted a large family. Odd would say he'd settle for three-or-four less sisters, but as the youngest that would essentially erase him from this lifetime, so big family it is. But he knows that his grandmother Adele was the youngest of four girls.
He heard the whole sordid story when he was nine and visiting for midsummer. A summer storm had come through, trapping them all in his grandmother's small house. She had plied them with warm cookies and sweet lemonade and pulled out the heavy picture books she kept in the bottom of the bookcase by the fireplace. Odd had munched cookies and listened curiously, watched his sisters pore over old photographs like they actually knew any of the people in them.
His great-aunt Birgit was the second-youngest and died from an equestrian accident when she was still a child. The next sister, Marit, eloped with an Australian fisherman and ran off when she was seventeen. The final sister, Eva, had a "flirtation" with a German soldier during the occupation and wound up indisposed as his grandmother told the story. Pregnant out of wedlock was his mother's frank explanation.
"What happened then, Mormor?" Marie had questioned, eyes wide with interest.
"Who knows?" Mormor had replied. "The country was not kind to girls like Eva after the war was over. Nor their children." She had paused then, green-gray eyes distant as she looked down at the photobook in his sisters' hands. "She took the child and ran a few years later."
"Where did she go?" Adele had questioned. She dragged a finger down the edge of a photo of a young woman with a piercing gaze.
"Canada," Mormor had answered. "She sent a few letters, but our mother would burn them. The only reason we knew where she went was because Marit saw the postage stamp on the last one."
"What was the baby's name?" Odd had mumbled around a cookie.
His grandmother's gaze lifts. "Signy," she had said. The corner of her mouth had lifted though the lines around her eyes had remained heavy. "It meant new victory."
. . … . .
Odd doesn't know how Jeremie does it. He'd ask, he wants to ask, but in a case like this he thinks it may actually be better if he can plead ignorance and actually mean it.
They meet at the factory, because that's where Jeremie likes to do all his clandestine meetings lately. Odd pulls up one of the wheely chairs they'd carried in from an abandoned office, spins slow circles in the floating dust motes, and tries not to feel like an extra in some crime film. Yumi leans against the wall with her arms crossed and her eyes dark and appraising. Ulrich pulls up another wheely chair, though he might as well be sitting in a regular boring office chair since he doesn't so much as sway side-to-side. Odd rolls his eyes, pushes off on the concrete and skids sideways into Ulrich's chair.
They play bumper chairs for a while, laughing and taunting each other while Yumi plays referee and doesn't bother hiding her smile. It's nice, Odd thinks. Their laughter echoes through the high ceilings and broken windows. He doubts the factory has heard much laughter over the years. Ulrich bumps his chair hard from behind and Odd has to grip the sides of the seat to keep from pitching forward.
"Foul!" he calls, shooting a look at Yumi.
Yumi smiles back at him. "Nice try," she states. "Just because you're daydreaming doesn't make it a foul."
"Favoritism!" he accuses.
Ulrich rams into him again and Odd yelps, glowering. "Can't keep up?" he asks.
Odd's going to retort, but Jeremie chooses that moment to enter the factory. He looks like he's expecting an ambush, like he's committing a felony, but also like he's proud of it. Odd sits up, notices the oversized envelope clutched in Jeremie's pale fingers. Ulrich glides to a stop next to him, chair jostling him lightly.
"Jeremie?" Yumi questions, pushing off of the wall.
Jeremie glances around as though he's expecting a hidden agent to pop out of the shadows. Then he crosses the room, holds out the envelope with a shaking hand and a fragile smile. Yumi takes it, pulls the papers out, and Odd watches the way her eyes dart and her smile widens.
"It's legit?"
"As legit as can be for someone who technically doesn't exist," Jeremie replies. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, leaving the strands sticking up in every direction.
Yumi whoops, hands the envelope to Ulrich, and throws her arms around Jeremie in a tight hug. Jeremie returns it, face an incandescent shade of pink. Odd leans over Ulrich's shoulder, reads the papers curiously. Aelita Signy Stones. Unofficial official citizen of Montreal, Canada.
Odd grins, joins Yumi in hugging Einstein, and can't believe they're pulling this off after all.
"Come on," Jeremie states, trying to push Odd and Yumi away. "Let's bring Aelita home."
. . … . .
"This isn't the Parent Trap, Odd," Marie scoffs. "You can't just find a lost relation at school."
"It was camp in the Parent Trap," Odd replies, "not school."
"The same principle remains!" Marie exclaims. She's doing pliés in the kitchen, right hand resting on the countertop while Odd scrolls through a carefully curated album on his laptop.
"I never said she was related to us. You're the one who assumed."
"Honestly, Odd," Marie snorts. She drops into a grand plié, green-streaked hair disappearing below the countertop, and Odd rolls his eyes. "You are a magnet for strays."
"Just because I'm more likeable-"
"What are you planning?" Marie demands, pushing up and standing on her toes. She stares him down, arms crossed over her chest.
"You sound like Lou now," he mutters.
"Odd, I have known you for your entire life. You have never been altruistic." She raises a hand to stem his protests. "Kind, yes. Funny, debatable. But you always have an ulterior motive. So, what is it this time?"
Odd frowns at his sister, rolls her words around in his head. "I was totally altruistic when I stole those jeans from you. They looked terrible on you."
"And fantastic on you. You aren't proving your point here." She leans onto the island counter, stares at him intently with wide blue eyes. "What are you up to?"
"Nothing," he says. Marie's eyebrows raise skeptically. "I just don't want her to feel alone."
. . … . .
"How am I supposed to pass for Norwegian?" Aelita questions. She presses her fingertips to her temples and glares down at the Norwegian workbook in front of her. "This is impossible."
"Hardly," Odd replies. He stretches out on her bed, pokes at a lime green frog plush that stares at him with huge yellow eyes. "I've been doing it my whole life."
"Yes, because you're actually Norwegian!"
Odd rolls over into a sitting position. He takes in the press of Aelita's fingers to her temples, the tense line of her shoulders and the slump of her spine. She kind of looks like Ulrich after he loses a game, like Lou when she's learning a new piece, like Einstein back when he was trying to unlock the materialization code. He sighs, gets up and pulls the extra chair over to her desk.
"Hey," he says. He reaches over, rubs soothing circles into the tense muscles in her shoulders. He pulls her left hand from her temple, massages the cramped fingers. "You aren't Norwegian, yeah? You're from Canada. French-Canada. You don't have to learn this."
"I'm supposed to be your cousin," she murmurs.
"Yeah, well, my sisters don't speak more than a handful of Italian words and we have Italian cousins. You'll be fine, Princess." Aelita sighs, squeezes his hand lightly. "Anyway, no one here speaks Norwegian, so you don't have to act like you know it either."
"And your family will really believe someone from Canada is related to them?"
Odd shrugs. He releases her hand, leans back in the chair until he's balanced on the back two legs. "I have a great-aunt who moved there with her daughter. No one knows what happened them."
"What were their names?"
"Great-Aunt Eva."
Aelita is quiet for a moment. Odd counts the seconds ticking by on the clock above her desk. "And the child's?"
"Signy."
Aelita reaches over after a moment, rests her hand on his arm. "Jeg beklager," she murmurs.
He cracks a smile. "See, you got this, Princess."
"I just wish I didn't have to lie," she sighs.
Odd slides his arm around her, tugs her in until her head rests on his shoulder. He can smell the orange blossom shampoo she's taken a liking to. "I know," he replies. "But, you need a family top-side. And mine isn't too bad. If you ignore the Harpies."
Aelita huffs a laugh, breath warm against his neck. "Will I have to dye my hair blonde?"
"God, no," he laughs. "We have too many blondes already." He tightens his arm around her briefly before nudging her lightly. "C'mon. Let's get an ice cream and forget about Norwegian for a while, yeah?"
"Yes."
. . … . .
"This is Aelita," Odd says, pointing at a picture. It's a candid shot of Ulrich trying to teach her some martial arts move in the backyard.
"Ulrich hasn't changed," Louise notes, peering over his shoulder. He shoves his elbow back, connects with her stomach. "Oof," she grunts. "Touchy."
"Stop drooling over my best friend, Elphaba."
"Turn about's fair play," she singsongs on her way out of the living room.
"One day you two will get along," his mother sighs. His father laughs, loud and boisterous, from where he's hanging one of Odd's paintings on the wall. "Let's see this girl."
Odd angles the computer screen so she can see the photo. He clicks the arrow key to bring up the next one. It's a picture of him and Aelita, arms over each other's shoulders and smiles wide. His mother is quiet for a moment, looking at the picture.
"You two look happy," she says at last. "What were you doing?"
He grins. "We'd just shoved Ulrich in the creek. He deserved it!"
His mother sends him a wry smile. "I'm sure."
His father approaches then, rests a hand on the sofa and leans over to see the picture. Like his mother, he's quiet for a moment before speaking. While his mother usually weighs her words before speaking, his father is like him: prone to speaking his mind before his brain realizes that his tongue has betrayed him.
"The pink hair brings out the green of her eyes," he says finally.
"Pretty cool, huh? No one else dyes their hair." He clicks the arrow again to show Kiwi and Aelita playing. "Guess she found blonde boring, too," he lies.
"Hm," his mother agrees. She reaches over, presses the back arrow to look at the picture of him and Aelita. "This is a nice picture," she says after a moment. "You should print it out."
"Okay."
"And you should invite her over during your next holiday."
He glances at her, but her face is unreadable. "Yeah, sure."
. . … . .
"We have a problem," Jeremie states as soon as Odd opens the door.
Odd blinks, head tilted in confusion. Jeremie stares at him like Odd should immediately know what he's talking about. "Uh…?"
"We have a Problem," Jeremie reiterates like that clears anything up. He rolls his eyes and shoves past Odd into the dorm. Kiwi looks up from where he's lounging upside down on Ulrich's bed. Jeremie ignores him, pulls out the desk chair but paces instead of sitting.
Odd closes the door slowly, wonders if he should send Aelita, Ulrich, and Yumi an SOS text. Jeremie hasn't been this keyed up in months. Not since they finally brought Aelita here semi-legally. "Uh, Einstein?"
"Aelita's being taken to the hospital."
"Wait, what?"
"She tripped over a hurdle during gym and hit her head."
"Okay, so she'll be fine, right?"
"Yes, it's just precautionary." Jeremie's still pacing though, still has that pinched look that means Odd isn't going to particularly like whatever he says next.
"So, what's the problem?"
"Odd. Think. Hospital. Aelita."
"They'll check her over and send her-"
"They'll want to call her family. Her family."
Odd sits down on his bed then, suddenly grasping Einstein's desperate tone. "Oh."
"Yeah," Jeremie sighs, dropping onto the desk chair. "Oh."
Odd clears his throat, wipes sweaty palms on his jeans. "So, what do we do?"
Jeremie looks up at him, expression pained and bleak. "Hope?"
Odd nods, looks down at his shoes. They should've anticipated this. Aelita was a person, a real person with a supposedly real family. There would be calls and inquiries and…
"Maybe we should force a Return?" Odd suggests when the silence gets too thick. It's wrapped around them both like it plans to smother them.
He expects Jeremie to protest, to lecture about only using the Return for responsible things. But, Jeremie just lifts his eyes to Odd's once more. He bites his lip while he mulls it over, reaches up to adjust his glasses. "Maybe," he agrees.
. . … . .
Aelita slips seamlessly into his family. She and Adele talk about photography, Pauline and her spend hours debating brainy things he tunes out, Elisabeth enjoys tutoring her on all the reasons why Norway should win the World Cup, and Louise and Aelita banter about bands and genre crossovers. The only one who casts a suspicious look is Marie, but Odd still catches her smiling and joking with Aelita, usually at the price of his embarrassment, but he'll take it.
"I don't get it," Marie says while they watch Aelita and Lou peruse a music store.
"Music? Yeah, we know." Marie kicks him and ow, her kicks are about as bad as Elisabeth's. "Ow, watch it Tippy Toes," he grumbles. He reaches down to rub his shin.
"You're such a jerk," she mutters.
"Fine. What don't you get?"
Marie inclines her head toward where Aelita is picking through a bin of CDs. "Her. You aren't trying to sleep with her."
"Ew, Marie, really?"
"Please, you have no standards."
"Potential family is definitely a standard!"
Marie turns to look at him, blue eyes narrowed. Marie is the tiniest of his sisters and he reached her height three months ago. Somehow the haughty look and narrow eyes still give her the illusion of being taller though. It isn't fair.
"That's just it," she says. "How can you be so sure that she is family?"
Odd shrugs, bites at a cuticle. "She just fits, y'know?" he asks.
Marie sighs, sips at her hot tea. "I still think you're planning something."
"That's because you have trust issues."
"Well, I have you for a brother, don't I?"
"Ow!" he exclaims. He nudges her with his elbow before loping over to join Louise and Aelita. He never thought he'd see the day when Lou's company would be preferable, but, well, here he is. He can hear Marie laughing behind him.
. . … . .
"You have very striking eyes," his mother states. Aelita looks up from where she's trying to follow Pauline's knitting instructions.
"Thank you?" she replies, voice uncertain. She offers her a lopsided smile. "I got them from my grandmother."
"They're reminiscent of Louise and Odd's coloring." His mother sits down on the sofa next to Aelita. Odd watches surreptitiously as he pretends to sketch on the book propped up against his knees. "Odd says you are Canadian?"
Aelita shrugs, nods. "I was born there," she agrees. Odd can sense the others stilling as well, casually listening in to the conversation. There was a reason his mother had invited Aelita to visit and they were finally witnessing it. "But I grew up in France after my parents…died."
"I had an aunt who moved to Canada," his mother comments. She studies Aelita like how Einstein studies computer coding: unblinking and determined. It's the same look she gives a lump of clay before she decides on how she will mold it.
"Odd mentioned that," Aelita replies. She ducks her head, refocuses on the knitting in her hands.
Odd clears his throat, draws his mother's attention. "I thought it was cool, y'know?"
"What was your grandmother's name? The one you inherited your eyes from."
"Signy," Aelita replies after a moment. She keeps her head bowed, attention on removing the stitches she messed up on. Her gaze slides sideways though, catches his and Odd offers her a small smile. "I was named after her."
Marie huffs loudly from the kitchen. "I can't believe Odd went and Parent Trapped himself a relative!" she whines.
Aelita looks up, confused. "Parent Trapped?"
His mother offers her a wan smile. "From the movie, The Parent Trap," she explains. "There was some debate on whether you could be related to my aunt."
Aelita flushes, shrugs. "I've never seen the movie," she admits. "And, I mean, I don't know. It could just be a coincidence," she says. She looks at Odd, eyes a little wide and lost. "Nothing's official-"
"It doesn't matter," his mother declares. Odd watches, only mildly surprised, when his mother leans over and pulls Aelita into a hug. "Blood or not, you are family." Odd feels his shoulders relax at the same time that Aelita semi-sags into his mother's arms. "You are welcome here anytime, Aelita."
"Thank you," she murmurs.
Pauline leans over when their mother retreats to the kitchen to help Marie with supper. "We'll watch Parent Trap tonight so you can see what Marie's been going on about," she states. She nudges Aelita in the arm. "Welcome to the circus, cousin."
Aelita laughs, bright and cheerful and the rest of Odd's tension melts away with it. He grins at Pauline when she catches his eye, hopes she can see the gratitude in his eyes. Pauline rolls her eyes at him and goes back to helping Aelita knit a truly outlandish blue and purple scarf that Odd hopes is intended for Lou.