Page 3 of Perfection
Her little girl scooted over, sniffled again, then snuggled closer, surveying the wounded plant. Kindra caressed her sweet oval face and smoothed silky strands of blond hair away from eyes that were gradually returning to their lively crystal blue. Like mother, like daughter. Brianna was sensitive, intuitive, demanding. Kindra smiled, amazed at how a genetically engineered generation, one far superior to her own B Generation, could be created with such scientific precision, yet remain so defined by age emotionally.
“I’ll bring a fresh, blooming flower home with me when I return from work, okay? This one”—she firmly tamped down the soil around the base of the stem—“will take a few days to open.”
Brianna brightened and tilted her head with an impish nod. “Not a cloned one.”
Where do kids learn these things?
“I’ll do my best.” She wrapped her arms around Brianna and breathed deeply of her little girl scent. When had this child she’d rescued from the embryo discard bin come to mean so much to her? It had been an impulsive, weak moment. The Committee had discarded so many embryos, she felt that if she could save at least one, it would fill the void inside her. But as time passed, and the more she learned about being a mother, the more her discontent with the Committee grew.
Brianna filled Kindra’s heart with love, aching in its intensity. Had her own mother ever cared for her this way?
Doesn’t matter.
She shook her head as Brianna wiggled out of her arms. Clearly ready to play, her child swept up a doll from a nearby chair.
Kindra stood. “How about if you and Chloe go do a unity session? The quiet time will help you center yourself.”
Brianna ignored her and headed down the hall without looking at her. “Can’t,” she said before disappearing through her bedroom door, Chloe hugged to her chest.
Kindra’s breath snagged in her throat, and she frowned. Brianna had never refused the spiritual exercise. Another warning signal tripped—another odd occurrence. First the tantrum. Now, this.
With her usual rigid posture and head tilt that didn’t displace a single dark hair, Sally held out a square box that housed Kindra’s computer key, the coded chip she needed to access files at work. “Time to go.”
Fingers curling around the key, Kindra ripped her attention from her daughter. “Call me if she gets upset again.”
“I will. Don’t forget that my updated replacement arrives tomorrow.”
“Yes. I have it in my system,” she said absently, grabbing her satchel from the foyer table. As she closed the door behind her, Kindra couldn’t shake the mother’s intuition that told her something bigger was wrong with Brianna.
She gave her head a shake. Perhaps it was simply growing pains. Brianna had a birthday soon.
* * *
He jogged up to Gina just as she was unlocking the apartment door. She jumped. He took hold of her hands, pulling her abruptly toward him. A little winded and a lot exited, a moment passed before he could speak. “It’s done.”
“What are you talking about?” She looked at him blankly, leaning backward so that her cornflower hair draped down her back. Her fine, sculptured brows knit with confusion.
He wanted to grab a fistful of that hair and tug her into submission, but resisted. He was a man of willpower, after all. Didn’t his planning and careful execution of that idea, prove that?
“Remember I mentioned I’d discovered a way to make them pay for all their slights over the years. To show them once and for all I was just as smart and capable as their top scientists.”God, he longed to share his accomplishment. She’d be so proud of him.
“What did you do?” she asked hesitantly.
He smoothed his fingers over her cheek, changing his mind about telling her. He didn’t want anything to dampen his mood, his elation. “Nothing. Never mind. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” He interlocked his fingers with hers and led her into the apartment and his bedroom.
