CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Freedom

PART ONE…Little Independent …

A child can only miss a mother when her female parent acted as a mother ought. It seemed, at least from Tessla's reactions, that Vanessa had never fit the bill. She said not a word about the person's sudden disappearance since returning from that night's slumber party. In fact, she seemed more carefree and pleasant since then. And, seeing as her father was also happier about the change than he was depressed, days passed quickly and easily.

One thing that Tessla kept constant was the sleepovers. Before, she had gone to friend's homes for most nights of the week in order to avoid her mother. But after that awkward figure silently left her life, Tessla kept herself away from home so often in order to allow the budding romance to bloom when she was absent.

She may have been young and naïve in the ways of love, but she giggled to think that her father was so enthralled and energized by the short human.

Some nights Tessla was host to her friends, but instead of coming to her own home, she brought them to Millie and Meryl's. Millie was a perfect hostess and was wildly entertaining, bonding with the youngsters despite her lack of coolness. And though on some of these nights Meryl stayed the night in her own abode, most times she did not. And no one seemed to mind that at all.

Except Millie.

She felt guilty about second-guessing her best friend's relationship with Mr. Vash. However, her mother had always told her that you shouldn't break up someone else's relationship.

Millie felt that Miss Vanessa was rather remarkable, having up and left without any drama, considering that Meryl had essentially 'stolen her man.' And then again, Miss Vanessa had too easily abandoned her daughter, and even if it didn't bother little Tessla that her mother was missing, it still wasn't right.

Mr. Vash and Meryl were so happy. But was it all in equilibrium or not?

In fact, Millie had felt so bewildered about the moral dilemma that she was the only one of the bunch to go searching for Miss Vanessa. It was all in vain, though, because Miss Vanessa wanted to disappear and was clever enough to have done the job well. She'd changed her name, apparently, because all records of a Mrs. Vanessa Saverem had been eradicated from the ship's open roster, even before the date she'd gone missing. Even the credit deposit in Miss Tessla and Mr. Vash's names was from an anonymous source. Though everyone she consulted about the matter thought that the anonymous gift was an anomaly, they simply thought Millie was crazy for thinking there had ever been a Mrs. Vanessa Saverem. They cited the ship roster and shook their heads, rolling their eyes when she walked away.

Strangely, the people who'd viewed Miss Vanessa's art show and those who purchased paintings claimed there was no such person. Instead, they claimed the works were created painted by some unseen artist, using an alias of that name and posing that odd, blind, scarred woman as the creator. Of course, that woman didn't paint those things, and her name wasn't the alias. How did they know this? Because an article had been posted a week or so ago, divulging the mystery.

One woman was so blunt in her belief that she accosted Millie for doubting it. "You must be slow, young lady, to think that a blind thing like that could have painted with such exquisite detail." Millie had become quite red in the face and excused herself from the woman's doorway that time. In fact, that marked the last time she made an effort to locate Miss Vanessa on the ship.

Millie kept her speculation about Miss Vanessa's motivations and feelings to herself. She could only guess. And she had to be as nonjudgmental as possible around the lovebirds, since it really wasn't her business anyways.

OXO

Knives was also in a moral dilemma of his own, as strange and foreign as the concept may have seemed for the plant. Indeed, he shared this conflict between a want to act and a want to mind his own business. Nameless days had passed since he'd seen Callisto's delicate face, and he had nightmares every night of her situation. He wanted to protect her from the things he feared, but held himself fast. The best way for him to gain her favor was to starve her of his contact for as long as he could stand. After all, she would come to crave his presence, and when he finally returned to visit her (unless she in her fervor came to visit him first) she would be overflowing with joy. Surely, this would make her love him.

The cat and the plant angels caused him great grief, however. He worried that he may not have taught young Callisto to adjust the plants well enough, but he knew that in truth she was a pro. And though it was a cat, and no more, he missed Nuisance's constancy and simple affection. He, at the very least, wondered if Callisto was feeding her adequately.

Every excuse he thought up to see her fell burning to his feet. She was too well suited to being alone. He had, over the months, stocked her plant complex with provisions so well that she wouldn't run out of food for at least a year. Callisto had all the food, water, books, equipment, and patience required to be without him for a long time.

Mentally, he earmarked a day a month from the present, to go and retrieve the cat. Nuisance liked running through the greenhouses, and after a total absence of three months would surely want to return to them. Yes, he would visit the plant complex in a month. If he happened to see Callisto when he was there, well, so be it. But it wouldn't be a trip to see Callisto; no, it would not be for that.