Chapter 14: On A Jet Plane
The men looked ridiculous standing on the tarmac: Charles in his fluffy white bathrobe, his chest hairs bristling out, and Todd scowling in his black trench coat.
“I could get used to this,” Charles said.
Malia giggled. “All you need is a loofah. But don’t get too comfortable. It’s only temporary,” Malia said, eyeing him and smiling.
The womens’ clothes would appear odd in America, but just right in Aeonia. Malia ran her hands down her robe, savoring the soft texture of the garment. In the past, whenever she had worn these clothes, she engaged in make-believe, playing dress-up, but this was real. The thought sent shimmers down to her toes.
The private jet’s staircase descended from its body with a whoosh.
“I feel like the president is going to step out of this thing,” Malia said.