by Marc Jedel
I pondered a bit and latched onto the first idea that wandered past. “How about Labrador puppies sitting in your lap while you eat peanut butter sandwiches?” After a long day, my creativity doesn’t quite reach exalted heights.
Megan made a sour face. “That was last night’s dream. We need a different one every night.”
“Umm …” This had expanded into a bigger challenge than anticipated. While they grew up, children lived at home for thousands of nights. Did Laney really make up a new dream every night? What if one didn’t work, could she use it again? Could she repeat dream suggestions every year? Did she use a special dream database to keep track of all the previous dream recommendations? This demanded a careful, systematic approach.
Megan interrupted my deliberations. “Uncle Maarty …”
Startled, I returned to find Megan tugging at my arm and scrambled for an idea. “Okay, okay. How about dreaming of striped horses running in the grass?”
Skye may have damaged her corneas by rolling her eyes so hard. “You mean zebras?” she asked, incredulous, “Do you practice making up bad ones?”
Wow, sarcasm and an eye roll. I was on fire. “How about, um, … you’re drinking every kind of milkshake while Labrador puppies try to get some from your cup,” I said in a burst of inspiration.
“Ok!” With a huge smile, Megan squeezed her eyes shut, pulled up the blankets, and announced, “Good night.” Dream time needed to come right away. Skye looked at me with a surprised look and gave me an approving nod.
Phew. That felt good. I turned off the light and shut the door quickly. With both girls inside their room. Just to be sure, I double-checked that the apartment door chain was in place.
GROUP TEXT TO AMANDA, ELI
…
ELI: Thanks for update on Aunt Laney
AMANDA: And how was tonight?
MARTY: I suck at telling them what to dream but I’m good at milkshakes
ELI: Go with your strengths
Tomorrow I needed to shake loose some answers. I had to figure out what was going on or get Laney more protection. Rollag would be my key.
6
Wednesday Morning
Staying up late to catch up on my work for Rover made the morning arrive that much earlier. I yawned as I walked down the hallway to wake the girls. When I opened the guest room door, I saw Skye, asleep alone in the bed again. Adrenaline slammed into my body. This works better than caffeine. At least it was a smaller adrenaline rush than yesterday, so that’s progress. Before saying anything, I turned and looked in the office. Sure enough, Megan lay asleep on the floor next to the futon. Regaining my breath, I knelt to touch her head. “Megan, it’s time to get up.”
Megan woke up bright-eyed and alert like only a child seems capable. “Good morning, Uncle Marty.”
I rolled my shoulders to release the tension. I’d lost the battle of the bedrooms once again, but at least Megan remained safe and inside the apartment. I didn’t want the girls messing with my stuff in the office. Yet, I had a hard time staying annoyed with Megan for long. Curious about the effect of my suggestion from last night, I asked, “What did you dream about?”
“Milkshakes and Labradors, of course, silly. And that made me starved. What’s for breakfast?”
“Cereal again. Remember, I forgot to have the groceries delivered. I’ll schedule them to show up for this evening.”
Skye, awakened by the talking, wandered out of her room.
No, the guest room. Not as bright-eyed as her younger sister, she bumped into the wall a few times as she made her way down the hallway to the bathroom. Today had gotten off to a better start than yesterday. I walked out to the kitchen to get breakfast and lunches together while the girls got ready for school.
When Megan came to the kitchen for breakfast, she asked, “Do we have to go to school? Can’t we go see Mom instead?” She stood with fists clenched and a concerned look on her face.
I turned to face her. “No, we’ll go later. She’s got a lot of pain medicine so she’s very tired and probably still sleeping anyway.”
She started to sniffle. “But we didn’t get to see her yesterday either.”
I stood there for a moment, finally recognizing that she was just a child of eight. Or maybe seven. I bent down closer to her. “I tell you what, I’ll call the doctor and make sure she’s doing better. Then we’ll go see her later.”
Skye had come up behind Megan without my noticing. “Yeah, I want to see her too.”
Her lip trembled. I looked back and forth between the girls. “I promise. I’ll call them this morning. Remember the hospital had an emergency yesterday so we couldn’t visit her.”
The girls nodded. I left two somber girls eating breakfast while I went to get ready for work. When I got back, they were talking to each other again. Catching their attention at the table, I said “Girls, I’ve got something important to do this morning. I’m not supposed to do this,” I hesitated before committing. “I’d like for you to take the Rover car to school by yourselves. Are you okay doing that?”
A huge grin spread across Megan’s face as she gave a vigorous nod and looked over at Skye. “Ha! I win. Told you we’d get to drive Rover.” She smirked with her arms crossed over her chest. “Pay up.”
Skye made a face at Megan. She didn’t like to lose, especially to her sister. Ignoring her debt to Megan in her excitement to use the Rover service, she raced down the hall to grab her phone. “Can you put the app on my phone?” She panted as she handed me her phone.
Megan wasn’t so readily dismissed. She shoved her hand toward her sister, making the international “show me the money” sign by rubbing her thumb across her fingers.
Skye dismissed Megan, “I don’t have any money.”
“You gotta pay up.”
Those are THE RULES.
Skye looked up at me as the app downloaded onto her phone. “My money is at our house. Can you give me a dollar?”
I sighed and reached for my phone. “I wasn’t even part of this bet and still lost.”
Laney had insisted that using paper bills would better teach her girls the value of money. Megan wanted a dollar bill to add to her collection. She held out her phone for the transfer anyway. At this rate, I’d need to find some small bills soon. Old-fashioned cash hadn’t yet gone extinct, although almost no adults used it these days.
I still remembered when cash was common. During my college days, my dad would obsess that I needed to carry cash whenever I traveled, in case of emergency. I only needed to use cash once when the gas station credit card machine had broken. I never told him to avoid reinforcing his paranoia. Besides, whenever I mentioned I didn’t have any cash, he’d hand over some extra money and I liked that scheme just fine. All I’d needed to do would be to pretend to forget to get money from the ATM and he’d give me some along with a lecture. Cash wasn’t critical back in those days and it’s even less so now.
Setting up the Rover app and lying about Skye’s age didn’t feel right, but I had to meet Rollag and discover what he knew about Laney and the drone. Besides our car service worked great now. I’d helped build it so I would know. Our lawyers were overly cautious on things like this. I finished adding the Rover app to Skye’s phone under my account and made sure it was connected to the fully working version. I didn’t want her running into problems with the beta version.
My petty crime accomplished, I asked, “Ok, everyone ready to leave?”
That set off a last-minute scramble before departing for the day. Locating forgotten items took less time today than yesterday. Pleased with my progress corralling the girls, we headed out of the apartment to wait for the Rover car.
Mrs. Kim opened her door as we walked past. “Good morning, girls.” She had impressive psychic skills or she must move like a cheetah when her superhuman hearing noticed someone approaching her door. She had to disguise these skills by walking slowly in public as one would expect from an elderly woman.
They chimed, “G
ood morning.” Nothing else to add this early, so we kept walking.
The car arrived and after the girls were safely on their way, I called another Rover car to take me to the Starbucks to meet Jean Rollag and straighten out Laney’s situation.
The Starbucks buzzed with energy when I walked in. Rollag wasn’t there. I’d recognize him on sight from the many stories about him over the years. Despite no Rollag in sight, the place made me a wreck. Like Pavlov’s dog, I got nervous every time I walked into a coffee shop. It wasn’t just cops that affected me like this.
I didn’t drink coffee. Never liked the taste and never got hooked on it. I avoid Starbucks like the plague. Somehow, I’d missed the worldwide training session which explained all the confusing menu options. The rest of the world understood how a cappuccino differed from an espresso, but not me. Once upon a time, coffee came in black or with milk. After those easier days, the choices had expanded to fill the available space on the menu boards and beyond. Everyone in line got antsy if you asked questions, fidgeting, and grumbling as their aggression built while they awaited their latest fix. When my turn came to shuffle to the counter like a good caffeine-seeking robot, I ordered a mere bottle of water and a muffin. Muffins were easy.
Grabbing one of the few open tables, I sat down to wait. Surreptitiously, I scanned the menu board trying to decipher the options. As an engineer, puzzles have always intrigued me. Who knew that Starbucks now sold tea? I like tea. Maybe they always had. I didn’t understand most of the tea options either. I guess I wasn’t on the right email distribution list. Or I’d worked late one evening and missed the training class. Other engineers drank Starbucks. When did they get their training?
My thoughts were interrupted as the door flung open like a tsunami hit it. A tall, trim, good-looking man around thirty entered right as the line disappeared. Dressed in Valley business attire of faded designer jeans, a crisp dress shirt, and loafers, Rollag made his appearance. He strode in with his chest puffed out and strutted over to the counter. His grand entrance wouldn’t have looked half as impressive if a line of customers had clogged the path. Perhaps he had an app that notified him of the best time to make his appearance.
Without waiting for the cashier to look at him, he barked, “Get me a Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Extra-Hot, Caramel Macchiato. And hurry, I’m late for an important meeting.”
I had no idea what all those words meant. It sure didn’t sound like coffee. I got up and approached Rollag as he fiddled with his phone. I shifted from foot to foot as I gathered my courage. “Hi, Mr. Rollag. It’s nice to meet you. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Laney Tran?” I blurted out in a nervous rush.
“Sorry. All interviews need to go through PR.” He answered without even looking up from his phone.
Trying again, I said, “No. It’s not an interview. I wanted to ask you about Laney Tran.”
“Who? I’m pretty busy right now,” he said as he flipped through Instagram pictures.
Sure, real busy. “Laney’s an HR consultant and had a meeting with you on Monday.”
He paused, finally looking at me as he registered her name. “Oh, Laney,” he leered. “That hot HR chick? I think she’s into me.” A rather unpleasant smile broke out on his face.
“She’s my sister.” I tried to remain calm.
“Cool. You can put in a good word for me.” He spoke with confidence as if simply announcing his needs would make them come true.
Unbelievable. “She was hurt badly on Monday. Do you have any idea how it happened?”
Rollag flushed and stepped back as if I’d struck him. His words spilled out. “Not me. I didn’t touch her. I barely know her. Why are you asking me about it?”
He slowed as he remembered. “Hey, she blew off our last meeting anyway.” Raising his hand as a stop sign in front of my face, he turned away and brought his phone to his face with his other hand. “Remind me to get another HR consultant.”
I held it together. “What was your meeting about?”
Putting down his phone, he turned back to me. “Look, our meeting was confidential. I can’t talk to you about it. But if your sister wants a good time, tell her to give me a call.”
“Don’t hold your breath. She doesn’t like assholes.” I felt like smacking him. He didn’t care that she was hurt but he still wanted to see if he had a chance with her. What an ass.
Before he could respond and our discussion went even further downhill, a barista bellowed, “John”, while holding a large cup as he looked straight at Rollag.
Rollag broke off our conversation but pretended not to hear the barista. He raised his chin and looked off in another direction. Tapping his toes, he shifted his head looking in all directions except the barista holding his coffee. I didn’t understand why he ignored his order. No one else waited for their order.
The barista walked around the counter and approached Rollag with a smile. “Hey dude, here’s your coffee.” He handed over the cup. “John” was written on the side.
Nailing the barista with a poisonous glare, Rollag said, “My name is Jean, not John.”
I heard him say both names but couldn’t discern any difference between them. Not that there might be two orders as crazy as that today, let alone at the same time.
“Yupsters, that’s what I said.” The barista maintained his good-natured poise as he handed over the cup. “Have a beautiful day, dude.”
Rollag ignored the good wishes, grabbed the coffee and took a sip as the barista turned away. Rollag put the cup down in disgust and sneered, “This isn’t what I ordered. It’s too sweet and not extra hot.”
What an arrogant ass.
The barista turned back with a friendly smile, apologized and promised to make another one right away. He rushed back to the bar to create another drink.
A few beats later, Rollag snorted. “Forget it,” he said to no one in particular and strode out.
Rollag’s callousness pissed me off, but I had to get to work even though the morning had been a bust. I requested the Rover car but the app showed I’d have to wait a short while before it arrived. Hard to complain that too many customers used the Rover service this morning. I decided to wait inside and sat down.
A minute later the barista walked out from the back with a new cup of whatever Rollag had ordered. He stood in a pleasant manner, searching for his thirsty, demanding customer, but couldn’t locate Rollag. He came over to my table. His blond, spiked hair with bright orange tips contrasted with the green apron he wore. On a name tag reading “Brody”, he’d added a yellow, smiley face sticker.
Tilting his head as he smiled at me, he said, “Good morning. Here’s the coffee for your friend.”
“Hi, uh … Brody … He’s definitely not my friend. He left.”
Unfazed, Brody said, “Well, dude, then I guess it’s your lucky day. You can have his drink and have a beautiful day too.” His smile was contagious.
I smiled back. As he left the drink on the table and turned back to his hissing, smoking machines, I mumbled, “But I like tea,” as I surveyed the steaming drink with suspicion.
An intoxicating scent of caramel wafted over me. Resistance was futile. I finally reached over to the cup and picked it up for a small taste.
Mmm, good. Before I could make sense of that impression, my Rover car arrived.
7
Wednesday Midmorning
I called Laney’s doctor on the way to my office. She had good news and bad news. On the positive side, Laney was doing much better and she thought Laney could leave on Friday afternoon, or most likely Saturday morning. On the other hand, the doctor had Laney on pain meds and expected her to drift in and out of sleep all day. The hospital was still restricting visitors on Laney’s floor until after dinner tonight. I’d take the girls to go visit her then.
A few hours later, I looked up when Raj showed up. Normally he’s so quiet, I don’t notice his comings and goings. But today was different. He bounced up and down in his c
hair and started rearranging everything on his desk.
Surprised by his energy, I asked, “Where were you?”
“Testing with marketing.” Raj moved some papers for the third time and accidentally pushed his phone off the desk to the ground. He popped out of his chair and picked it up, holding it high with a triumphant grin on his face.
“What’s going on?”
His leg kept jiggling as he answered. “Too much caffeine.”
“I thought you don’t like caffeinated drinks.”
“That is correct. But I cannot tell you more because of top secret.”
Raj’s attempt at secrecy succeeded only in drawing my complete attention.
“What’s the secret? It’s okay to tell me. I’m an engineer too.”
Buckling under the intense pressure, Raj blurted out, “Marketing has a new idea for Rover cars to get Starbucks coffee for customers automatically.”
I scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”
Raj nodded in agreement. “Yes, this is true. But our boss told me to be nice to marketing, so I helped them.”
I hadn’t seen an over-caffeinated Raj before and I struggled to keep a straight face. In his amped-up condition, Raj wouldn’t break any productivity records today. I needed a break anyway. Pushing my chair back from my desk, I stretched while I told him about my experience with Rollag at Starbucks.
I realized that Sergeant Jackson hadn’t yet returned my call after my Rollag meeting. Thinking I could start checking out Rollag without waiting for the police, I did an online search for Jean Rollag. Reading the first article, I whistled softly.
“What is it?” Raj popped up again and came over to see my screen. He might have actually jumped over the cubicle wall.
“Look at this. DroneTech’s now a deca-unicorn,” I said.
Raj screwed up his face in confusion, then started babbling as the caffeine boosted him into overdrive. “I do not understand. Are not unicorns imaginary? We believe so in India. Do you have real unicorns here in America? And DroneTech has not one unicorn, but ten?”
