The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “We have to really go back and review our theories.” Ellen walked into Jeff’s room.

  “I don’t understand,” Dean said. “We mutated the cells to match human . . .” He saw he was in Jeff’s hearing range and whispered, “To match human ones.” He spoke at a normal level. “You said it took. No rejection. What’s the problem and why do you have a surgical kit?”

  “We have to remove our grafting slash transplant.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Ellen walked to the bed and to Jeff. A full bandage covered his mouth. “Take a look, Dean.” She gently took off the bandage. “We have fur.”

  Dean placed on a poker face as he stared at what Ellen exposed under the bandages. It once was skin they created in the lab, a new cross breed, that they layered to form lips they surgically placed on Jeff, connecting them to his nerves and muscles. Lips that once looked good were now a patch of brown and white fur. “Oh.” Dean nodded. He saw Jeff’s curious shifting eyes. Jeff didn’t know.

  “Well? Dean?” Ellen questioned. “Should we prep to remove them or what?”

  Dean stared back down to the fur ball lips. He had plans and things to get ready. The removal was going to take up time, not to mention it would be disheartening and painful to Jeff. Hem-hawing in thought, Dean peered to Ellen. “Let’s uh . . . see how bad they look when we shave them.”

  “O.K.” Shrugging, Ellen moved aside the surgical pack and sought out a good razor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Quantico Marine Headquarters

  George cringed as he rubbed his eyes, and listened with the phone held to his ear. He wished he could lower his head and shake it but that was impossible with the pins that held his head up. “Bev,” George tried to interrupt her. “Bev . . .” So fatherly, he tried to be calming. He couldn’t make heads or tails out of her words. The hyperventilated breathing inhibited that. “Bev.” Finally, George lost it. “Bev!” He smiled at the silence. “Thank you. Now calm down. Why are you having such a problem with this?” George closed one eye, listening to her go on. “What? Are you stupid? You don’t think you can get out of it? . . . . Well, of course Johnny’s not gonna be mad about it. Johnny doesn’t like you. Bev . . .” George tried. He really tried to remain calm. “Dean’s a man, goddamn it. You been throwing yourself at him and his wife left him. It’s called revenge. He wants to screw away his depression. Bev . . . Bev . . .” He grumbled. “Bev! Damn it! Listen to me. What time is he coming over? O.K., listen O.K.” George spoke pacifying. “Leave before he gets there. It’s that simple. Bye.” Before he could hear anymore about it, George hung up. He took a moment to feel good about himself. It wasn’t very often he got to give fatherly advice.

  ^^^^

  Dean noticed Ellen’s fixed stare on the pair of lips that were submerged in the special solution in the Petri dish. She walked blindly as she carried the dish in her hand and looked, almost sadly, down to the lips. “El?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s so sad. I thought we were doing well.”

  “We did do well,” Dean told her. “It’s just that the mixture was wrong. Hey, the transplant worked, right?”

  “True.” Ellen kept walking.

  “At least we didn’t do the nose first. He may have grown whiskers.”

  Very seriously, Ellen stopped walking. She turned her head to Dean after his comment and, with closed eyes, allowed herself to smile and shake her head. They were right in front of the lab and both of them walked in. “We’re done for the day.”

  “Yeah.” Dean grabbed his jean jacket off the coat rack.

  “Are you going down to the lab?”

  “Me? No. It’s three-thirty.” Dean adjusted the collar on his coat. “I’ll grab the kids and head on home, maybe get supper . . .” He saw the stare Ellen gave him. “ Shit. Sorry.”

  Ellen shook her head.

  “El,” Dean said her name painfully. “I forgot because it’s so natural with you, walking, talking, and working. It’s natural. I’m a smart man El. Would I do something so stupid as jeopardize something so good?”

  “Dean, you told her it was going to be you and your fantasies. I heard you. You gonna deny that?”

  “No.”

  “No.”

  “I’m not . . . I’m not even gonna try. I won’t.” Dean took a step back. “Goodnight, El. See you tomorrow . . .”

  “No. You won’t.”

  “I won’t?” Dean turned in the door. “Why?”

  “I’m going to New Bowman. Remember? Or is your mind too cluttered with Bev thoughts?”

  “No it isn’t. Don’t forget the blood work on Elliott.”

  “Dean.” Ellen cleared her throat. “Elliott is a man of integrity. He’s a good man. He didn’t deserve to have you in your sick childish games name a killer baby after him . . .”

  “El, I . . .”

  “No. So I would prefer, in my presence, until he tells me otherwise, I would like if you refer to him as Sgt. Ryder.”

  A hard stare went to Ellen along with slightly angry puckered lips stemming from the insulting blow Dean took. He turned and walked out.

  Grabbing the Petri dish with the deformed lips, Ellen walked to the refrigerator. She wasn’t in the mood to take the removed transplant all the way down to the cryo-lab. She figured if she hid them far enough in the back of the fridge, no one would see them until she got them the next afternoon. Opening the refrigerator, she extended her arm through the racks of blood. She laid the dish in the back and, as she went to move a rack to in front of it, she saw a half filled tube with Elliott’s name on it. Ellen pulled her hand back out, looked once more at the blood, and closed the refrigerator. She took a single step away and stopped. Looking at her watch, Ellen knew she didn’t have much time, but how much time did she need for what she was thinking? After all, what was in the tube was only a minuscule amount of blood. Only a few tests could be run. Debating shortly in her mind, Ellen returned to the refrigerator. She reached in, pulled out Elliott’s blood, and stared at it.

  ^^^^

  Dean supposed it was probably Joe’s routine in the old world as well. He could see Joe doing that, stopping at the local bar for a drink to relax on his way home. Joe did the same thing in Beginnings before heading home, especially on Fridays. That’s where Dean went to look for him.

  He had to talk to Joe. He needed to. He had not spoken to Dean all day. When he and Frank went to speak to him about housing, Joe was a man of little words to Dean then as well.

  Joe was sitting at the bar when Dean walked in, right where he always sat, fourth stool down right before ‘Sam’ the mannequin. The stool next to Joe was empty and Dean walked up to it and sat down. “Joe,” he spoke softly.

  Joe raised his eyes up. “Dean.” His cigarette dangled between his fingers and he flicked the butt of it with his thumb, sending the ashes into the ash tray.

  “Joe, there’s something I need to say to you.”

  “Dean.” Joe took a sip of his nearly gone drink. “There’s not much to discuss. Does this have to do with community welfare?”

  “No.”

  “Problems at the clinic?”

  “No.”

  “Security matter?”

  “No.”

  “Personal?”

  Dean hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Then I’m afraid I can’t discuss this with you. If you have a problem, I’m not your man.” Joe didn’t speak coldly, just matter-of-fact.

  “Joe, listen . . .” Dean’s fingers ran nervously in a small circle on the bar. “I know . . . I know it looks like I did wrong . . .”

  “Looks?” Joe gave a chuckle. “What will it take? Just look at it from an outside point of view for once, O.K.? Because you aren’t doing that. I’m sorry. You have a community that is ninety-plus percent men. You, Dean, had a wife. You, Dean, played the field. That’s an underlying no-no. There are men in this community who would give their right arm for just a small taste
of what you had. But you not only had that, you took a part of what maybe someone else could have had. I have to tell you, word run rampant. Men are pissed and rightfully so. She’s carrying your baby. Tests show that.”

  “The tests are wrong.”

  “Now am I correct in assuming that all other possible means of fertilization have been eliminated?” Joe asked.

  “You’re right. They have been.”

  “And how many people ran that paternity test?”

  “Five.”

  “Five.” Joe nodded. “Ellen said she tested it to make sure it wasn’t tampered. Did you?”

  “Yes,” Dean said sadly.

  “And you still insist they’re wrong. Son, if they turn up to be wrong, you will get a heartfelt apology from me. But . . . until then, I’m a man of fact. There’s an awful lot of fact staring me blankly in the face. And it’s staring at you too. Covering it up is useless.”

  “I’m not covering anything up.”

  “Dean, you need to wake up and see the situation.”

  “So does everyone else. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Dean . . .”

  “No. Joe,” Dean tried passionately, “I lost my wife, my kids. I did nothing but love them.”

  “And you want me to believe you did nothing wrong.”

  “Yes. Yes you, of all people, I need to believe me.”

  “I can’t.” Joe finished his drink and set it down. He stood up. “I just can’t, Dean. Why it’s so important that I believe you is beyond me.”

  “Because you’re Joe . . . you’re . . . Joe,” Dean said. “God, I look up to you, how strong you are and the way people respect you. You are the last person, aside from my wife, I want to disappoint. You’re so fair, Joe. I’m asking for a chance. Please don’t turn your back on me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Joe turned from their conversation. With his hands in his pockets, he walked out without ever looking back at Dean.

  ^^^^

  Before Ellen closed the file folder, she kept her hand over her mouth as she stared inside. She brought her opened hand into a fist before her lips, shut the file, and placed it on top of the other folders she had to take to New Bowman with her the next day.

  “Knock-knock,” Jenny called pleasantly into the lab.

  Ellen sprang up in surprise and spun around. “Jenny.”

  “Bad time?”

  “No I’m . . .” Ellen peered at her watch. “Shit. I’m sorry. The kids. I . . .”

  “Josh took them home.” Jenny stepped inside. “We figured you were busy.”

  “I got caught up.” Nervously, Ellen took off her lab coat.

  “I need your signature.”

  “For?” Ellen walked to the counter where Jenny had a stack of papers.

  “It’s a petition. I have an appointment with Judge Grace. We want Bev removed from Beginnings. Joe said no.”

  “Removed? Grace isn’t over Joe’s head.”

  “True, but if I get enough signatures, she said she’ll try to influence him”

  “They can’t oust her, Jenny.”

  “I know.” Jenny handed Ellen the pen. “It’s to get her new residence moved to the House of Lesbians.”

  Ellen snickered and snatched up the pen. “Perfect.” She smiled and signed her name.

  “How are you?” Jenny took the pen back.

  “I’m doing O.K.”

  “Robbie’s bragging about your date tonight.”

  Ellen snickered. “It’s a date now?” She started to walk. “I’m heading home. Walk with me?”

  “Sure.” Jenny followed. “So it’s not a date?”

  “It’s a night out.”

  “You’re so lucky.”

  “Hardly,” Ellen stated.

  “No, that’s not what I mean.” Jenny held the main doors open for Ellen. “I mean to get to go to New Bowman.”

  “You haven’t been there?”

  “No.” Jenny shook her head. “Patrick works mostly nights. He can’t take me. Blake, he won’t spend any Danny-Dollars, and John, well, he’s comatose,” Jenny sighed.

  “You can tag along with us tonight,” Ellen suggested.

  “Thank you. But I can’t. It’s Moon Lodge meeting night.”

  “That’s right. Maybe next time.”

  “O.K.,” Jenny said perkily as they headed to the living section. “Maybe, you know, with you being so close to the men of New Bowman, you could find me . . . a date?”

  This made Ellen stop. “A date?”

  “Yes. It’s time to move on. Not from Patrick, mind you. He’s rather boring though. Blake . . .” Jenny shook her head as if the thought of being with Blake was shuddering. “Blake is a God, yes, but self centered. John, I love him. I do. But he’s done some things . . . . We have a lot to work out.”

  “Jenny.” Ellen chuckled as they walked again. “You getting a date should not be a problem on your own. You certainly don’t need my help. The men love you around here. Hell, pick up the radio, tell them tomorrow you want a date to New Bowman, and they’ll be knocking at your door.”

  Jenny blushed. “Thanks, but . . . I don’t want a Beginnings man. The men of New Bowman, they are so . . .”

  “Nice.”

  “Exactly. And respectful.”

  “We don’t have that.”

  “A part of me thinks this may sound silly.” Jenny paused. “But part of me thinks that these men of New Bowman would appreciate a woman for who they are, not what they could give in bed. Make sense?”

  “Perfect. And I see your point. Sure.” Ellen exhaled. “I’ll find a good one for you.”

  “I have someone in mind. You know him.”

  Ellen’s walk hesitated as she looked at Jenny.

  Jenny tried not to chuckle at the semi-frightened look on Ellen’s face. “No. Don’t worry. Not Elliott.”

  “I uh, wasn’t worried,” Ellen stated.

  “Sure. Anyhow, ready?” She waited for Ellen to nod. “Hal.”

  “Hal?”

  “Hal,” Jenny repeated. “Hal is such a gentleman and so nice.”

  “He is nice,” Ellen agreed. “And don’t forget . . . he’s hot.”

  “Oh yeah. And he’s the Slagel with more hair on his head than chest.” Jenny grinned. “I didn’t want to mention that, being he’s like your brother.”

  “Hal’s a great guy,” Ellen said. “He really is. A little arrogant but I think it makes him sexy.”

  “Would it bother you?” Jenny asked. “If it will I won’t proceed any . . .”

  “No.” Ellen stopped her. “No, not at all. In fact.” Laying her arm around Jenny’s shoulder, Ellen guided them in their walk. “I’m seeing Hal tonight. I’ll make the suggestion.”

  “Will you build me up?” Jenny questioned with slight giddiness.

  “Without a doubt,” Ellen replied.

  “Will you make sure Robbie doesn’t say anything negative?”

  “Absolutely.” Ellen knew she was being overly nice but it wasn’t a front. It was genuine. It was her thank you to Jenny for a moment of relief, for giving her the first conversation of the day where Dean’s name and the pregnancy did not come up once.

  ^^^^

  There was that slight ‘Peeping Tom’ feel that Jess has just before he entered Robbie’s bedroom. He took a quick look at Robbie who was standing in his boxers before his mirror then Jess tossed at him a pair of tan pants. “Here.”

  The clothes smacked off of Robbie’s chest and Robbie grinned. “Thanks.” He stepped into them. “Hey, Jess?”

  Jess stopped in his turn from the door. “Yeah?”

  “Don’t let it get around that I was in your pants.”

  Jess closed his eyes and smiled at Robbie’s bad humor. “I’ll make you a deal.”

  “Sure.” Robbie picked up the black shirt he was going to wear. “What’s that?”

  “I won’t let it get around that you were . . . in my pants if you do your hair differently tonight.”

  “What
?” Robbie buttoned his shirt. “Jess, man, my hair is my best asset.” He walked to the mirror.

  “Robbie, you have better assets. Trust me.”

  “I didn’t know you didn’t like my hair.”

  “I do like your hair but I think you should style it differently.”

  “Why?” Robbie asked innocently, looking at his wet head in the mirror.

  “What did you say when you asked to borrow my pants.”

  “I said I wanted a different look so El can see me differently.”

  “Exactly. Do your hair differently.”

  “Jess, I love my hair. It’s easy . . .”

  “Robbie,” Jess snickered. “I saw the picture your dad has of you four boys when you were young. You had the same hair.”

  “True.” Robbie held up a finger as he put a comb through his hair. “But that wasn’t on purpose. I just hated coming my hair in the morning.”

  “So now you comb it and make it stick up like you never combed it.”

  “Yes. It makes me look young.”

  “Yes. I would think that you would want Ellen to see you other than the little boy with messed up hair.”

  “Jess, look.” Robbie pulled open his shirt. “Hair. I’m no little boy. I’d, uh . . .” Robbie closed his shirt. “Show you more but I don’t want to get you worked up.”

  “You’re an ass.” Jess shook his head with a smile.

  “Did I tell you I trimmed my arm pit hair?”

  “No.” Laughed Jess. “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” Robbie grabbed the Hair Hold and placed it on his fingers.

  Jess watched. “You’re really going to place that stuff in your nice combed hair and pull till it stands on end?”

  “Jess, it’s an acquired look. I have cowlicks.”

  Though Jess cringed as he watched Robbie deliberately make his hair look messy, he moved off the hair subject. “Seriously, Robbie can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Are you having expectations about this date tonight?”