What Happened to Lori
Page 71
He suckled.
She cried.
“I love you, Fabler. I love both of you, so much.”
FABLER ○ 12:11pm
Fabler knocked on the glass of the hospital nursery, to try and get his newborn son’s attention.
“It’s daddy, Grim. Can widdle Grim see daddy?”
Grim
“Is it me, or is he the cutest baby in the world?”
“He is. Because he looks like my sister, not you.”
“I got cigars. Proud papa. Let’s duck outside for five minutes.”
“You betcha, daddy.”
They walked through the hospital hallways, and Fabler couldn’t pinpoint any moment in his life when he’d been happier.
“You ever have nightmares, Fabler?”
“A few. Lori more than me. You?”
“Every night.”
“You were there for five months, Grim. That’s a long tour in hell.”
They stepped outside, and Fabler tugged out two Cohiba stogies. He handed Grim one, and began to unwrap his.
“How’s Sinatra?”
“He loves the ranch. Room to roam around. Thanks again for the loan.”
“It’s not a loan. The money is yours, Grim. Lori and I insist on it.”
“I consider it a loan. I finished three months at the laundromat, and they’re going to offer me the assistant manager position. It’ll be a little more money. I can start making payments.”
Fabler bit off the end of his cigar, then lit it up. After getting a nice ash, he passed the lighter to Grim, wincing at the pink, mottled skin on the side of his face.
“You know, Jake 1 and Jake 2 are working on synthesizing the Reformant. I’ve heard they’re getting close. Maybe they could do something about the scars.”
Grim rubbed his face. “I kinda like them. Makes me look tough. Have you, uh… heard from…”
“Presley?”
“Breast cancer hasn’t come back?”
“No. Surgery got it all.”
“She working?”
“She’s doing some military advising.”
“Is she… seeing anyone?”
“Christ, Grim. My son was born today. Let’s celebrate. Quit torturing yourself.”
“Sorry. Yeah. You’re right. Let’s toast to new family arrival. To Pilgrim Fabler.”
Grim took a flask out of his jacket and handed it over. Fabler raised an eyebrow. “Drinking again?”
“Try it.”
Fabler took a swig.
“I get it online. Supposed to have ten times the caffeine as a normal cup of joe. Keeps me up at night, but I can’t sleep for shit anyway.”
Fabler passed the flask back. “You doing okay, brother?”
“I am. You know, the first week after we got back, I kept expecting her to call. I mean, it all worked out, didn’t it? We saved Lori, along with a bunch of other people. Brooklyn got her heart. Presley caught the cancer in time. You have a baby. I got a giant sloth with a two hundred buck a week banana habit. I thought it would be a happily-ever-after ending. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this is how it should be. I mean, a woman like Presley? She can do better. So I’m okay with it now.”
“Really?”
“Really, Fabler. I think I’m over her.”
“You are?”
“I am.”
“Tell me you’re full of shit.”
“She’s actually behind me, isn’t she?”
Presley’s voice was music. “Tell me guys, is this a sausage fest, or can a lady get a cigar?”
GRIM ○ 12:16pm
Luckily, Presley brushed right past Grim and hugged Fabler. “Congratulations. How big?”
“Seven pounds, four ounces. Thanks for coming out.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Fabler gave Presley a cigar and a light, and Presley made eye contact with Grim.
Presley nodded as she started the cigar. “With my dad.”
Fabler clapped their shoulders. “I’m going to go check on Lori. See you guys up there.”
Presley took a puff of smoke and nodded, waving Fabler away.
“You look really nice, Presley.”
Presley coughed. “Let’s cut the bullshit, Grim. Are you dating?”
“No.”
“Lori told me you have a ranch. I got a flight back home on Tuesday. Can I stay with you until then?”
“Sure. Of course.”
“You got an extra bedroom?”
“Yeah.”
“If I take that extra bedroom, are you going to be banging on the door at two in the morning, demanding sex?”
“Of course not.”
“And what if I bang on your door at two in the morning, demanding sex?”
Presley cleared her throat. “I, um… I wrote you a letter. I wrote it a while ago. I almost mailed it to you about fifty times, but I thought it would be better to read it in person. Is it okay if I read it to you?”
“Sure.”
She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket.
“Dear Grim. You know that line people always use when they’re breaking up with someone. The line, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’? Well, in this case, it isn’t a line. Everything that happened to us was so intense, and I didn’t even go through everything that you and Fabler went through. But I still needed some time to myself, to figure things out. And you gave me that time. Thank you for that.”
She cleared her throat again.
“I can’t imagine what it was like for you. Watching me die. Being trapped there for five months. But you stuck with it. And you saved me. And you helped save my daughter. And you left me alone even though I know you love me. Except for my dad, I never had a guy treat me like you have. Even Brooklyn’s father. Good guy, but not a great guy. I think you’re a great guy, Grim. And I didn’t think I deserved a great guy. That’s why I’ve been avoiding your for so long. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
She folded the letter back up, and handed it to Grim.
“I know you were hoping for more. I’m sorry there isn’t more.”
“It’s okay. It’s just nice to see you again.”
Presley chewed her lower lip. “I was thinking, after we visit with Lori and Fabler and the baby for a while, maybe you know a good place to get a cup of coffee?”
He dared a small smile. “I know one or two.”
“And a Napoleon? I heard there’s a place in town with good Napoleons.”
“I think I know a place you’d really like.”
“I want to take this slow, Grim.”
He nodded. “Slow is fine.”
“But I also want to kiss you right now.”
Grim backed away, widening his eyes. “Oh, shit, Presley. Fabler and Lori didn’t tell you?”
Presley’s face sank. “You just said you weren’t seeing anyone.”
“I’m not. But since you broke my heart, I entered the priesthood.”
Presley cracked a grin. “You asshole.”
“Mind your language, my child. You may address me as Father Asshole.”
She laugh
ed and punched him on the shoulder. Grim reached out and took her hand and they walked back to the hospital.
“Tell you what, Presley. Maybe I’ll let you kiss me later, after coffee, if you show me some pictures of Brooklyn.”
“Maybe, huh?”
“I’ll be blunt. Odds are seventy-thirty, against. But if you’re extra nice to me, I can’t rule it out.”
“I guess I’ll have to be extra nice, then.”
“One more small thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Sinatra has the second bedroom. If you want to stay over, you have to sleep with him.”
“That giant furball? Lori says he farts all the time.”
“He’s so gassy he sounds like a lawnmower.”
“I’m not sleeping with the giant sloth.”
“His farts smell like dead fish.”
“I’m definitely not sleeping with the giant sloth.”
“Well… we’ll work something out.”
Grim held open the hospital door for Presley and they walked inside, hands clasped together.
AUTHOR NOTE 8
Thanks so much for reading.
I know this was a long and sometimes challenging book.
I appreciate you sticking with it.
I also appreciate you reading the author notes.
The notes weren’t just the ramblings of a narcissist. They also had a point.
Because there is actually more to this story.
Do you want to read more?
If not, stop here.
But if you’re curious what happened next for many of the characters, and you have some suspicions that everything isn’t quite what it seems, then read on.
I want to warn you, though. Sometimes it is better not knowing.
If you just ate a delicious hamburger, would you want to be told later that the meat came from the thigh of an old homeless woman?
Think about the kindest person you ever met. Would it benefit you in any way to learn that person robbed a liquor store, killed three people, and got away with it as a teenager?
In science, having more data is always preferred.
In life, secrets and lies make society manageable.
This book ended with a, HEA.
Do you really want to ruin that?
If so, read on. If you dare.
But I’m warning you; what comes next may taint what came before…
EPILOGUE 1
JAKE 1 ○ February 9, 2018 ○ 2:21pm
“I brought you guys some breakfast.”
Holly set down a plate of hot cinnamon rolls on the stainless steel lab table, next to a ring stand.
“Thanks. I’ll save him one.”
“Where’s Jake 2?”
“He went to work today. I’m staying home and grading papers.”
Holly tore a roll in half and perched onto a stool “And the University still doesn’t know there are two of you?”
“We record our classes so we don’t repeat anything.”
“And you guys are getting along okay?
“Why wouldn’t we get along? We’re the same person. I’m just a day older, and travelled to the future.”
“Anyone else would find the whole thing freaky. But you guys treat it like nothing has changed.”
“A lot has changed. We can now get twice the work done.”
“After work, Lori and I are going shopping for new baby shoes. That kid is growing like a weed.”
“He’s not a weed. We’ve sequenced his genome and he’s entirely normal.”
“It’s an expression, Einstein. Not everything is creepy. Speaking of, how are your creepy experiments going?”
“Want to see?”
Holly picked up the rest of the roll and followed Jake 1 into the incubation room. He pulled the sheet back on the cage.
“He’s actually cute.”
“Good morning, Ophie. Want some nice frozen crickets?”
The lizard, no bigger than a TV remote control, croaked.
“Does he understand you?”
“Too early to tell. He’s about as smart as a cat.”
“Neat. And how’s it going with the Elixir?”
Holly tried to sound nonchalant, but Jake 1 knew better.
“Not ready for trials yet. We haven’t synthesized the formula exactly, and we still aren’t sure how it works.”
“But you promised me I get to try it first.”
“When we’re sure it’s safe, we’ll let you try it. It won’t be as strong, because we aren’t harvesting cells from the human central nervous system. We’re using mealworms. But if it works like we hope, it’ll be big. Not just as a recreational drug. But for those who suffer with acute and chronic pain, depression, post-surgical recovery, addiction, grief; the applications are endless.”
“And the Reformant?”
Jake 1 frowned. “A much tougher nut to crack.”
“And what about…”
Jake followed her gaze to the other cage, covered with a tarp.
“Want to see it?”
“No. It creeps me out. You sure it won’t get away?”
“One inch bullet proof Lexan.”
“What if it gets bigger?”
“We don’t feed it, so it can’t absorb any organic tissue.”
“That’s cruel.”
“How is it still alive?”
“We don’t know. We tried poisoning it, drowning it, pumping all the air out of the enclosure, crushing it, and burning it. The thing won’t die. Jake 2 wishes we never injected that poor mouse with black serum.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
“Hellooooo, Hollllllllllllllllllllllly.”
“And I’m out of here.”
Jake 1’s sister hurried out of the lab.
“You should let me out, Jaaaaaaaaaaake.”
“That isn’t likely going to happen, Bub.”
“We can make a deeeeeeeeal.”
“No deals. I admire your physiology, and I know you’re smart.”
“Smarter than yoooooou.”
“And you’re also evil. You’re staying in there forever.”
“It is never forever, Jaaaaaaaaake. We always get ouuuuuuuuuut.”
AUTHOR NOTE 9
How’d you like the little surprise ending?
Bub will be back. Obviously.
But there is more to reveal.
Are you sure you want to keep reading?
You can stop here.
Nothing has been ruined yet.
If you keep reading, it might blow your mind.
Is that what you want?
If so, read on…
EPILOGUE 2
GRIM ○ March 29, 2018 ○ 1:17pm
“Grim, Sinatra pooped in the kitchen.”
Grim hit pause on his controller. “Brooklyn, I’m playing Gears of War 4. You know how important it is to kill monsters, right?”
Brooklyn pinched her adorable little nose. “It smells stinky.”
“Is it a big poo or a small poo?”
“It’s always a big poo. It looks like he dropped a giant chocolate cake on the floor.”
That sloth had massive dumps. Months ago, Grim toyed with the idea of somehow teaching him to use the toilet, but there was no way it would flush.
“I’ll give you five bucks to clean it up.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Why? You like chocolate cake.”
“You’re gross.”
“You’re grosser.”
“You
’re super-hella gross.”
She folded her arms. “I want ten bucks.”
“I’ll go six bucks, but you can’t tell Mom we let Sinatra in the house.”
“Deal.”
He shook her tiny hand and unpaused the game.
“YEEEEAAAAAAAH.”
“Don’t talk to me, Sinatra. You know the rules about shitting in the house.”
“YEEEAAAH.”
“And wipe that smile off your face. That poor, innocent child has to clean up after you. It’s abominable.”
Sinatra stuck his nose in Grim’s face, cold and wet.
“Brooklyn! Give Sinatra some bananas!”
“Okay. Come on, Sinatra.”
Sinatra heard the magic word and waddled off.
“What do you want for dinner, sweetie? Tater tots or Cap’n Crunch?”
“Tater tots!”
The landline rang, and Grim picked it up.
“Yeah.”
“YEEEEAAAAAAAAH!”
“Sinatra! Quiet! I’m on the phone!”
“Is this Mr. Pilgrim? The guy who brought in his iPhone because it had quote demonic dragonfire damage unquote.”
“Yeah. You fix it?”
“That phone is borked, dude. Broken screen, half-melted, battery blew up. But was fire damage the only problem? Because when I tried to pull your data off it a virus crashed our system. Then it took out our server.”
Grim’s stomach dropped. He paused his game. “What do you mean? A virus?”
“I saw some of the code before my computer went down. More complicated than anything I’ve ever seen before. You a hacker?”
“No. What do you mean virus?”
“Some weird name I never seen before. You ever hear of a virus called Mu?”
AUTHOR NOTE 10
Everyone is the hero of their own story.
WHAT HAPPENED TO LORI isn’t Lori’s story.