“You could at least give it a try,” she said. “There’s one in here with a full sports bar. They show all the games, huge screens. Beer. Wings. Lots of old guys in Falcons’ gear?”
“Old guys?”
“Look at the picture,” Jenny said, handing him a brochure.
The sports bar did look sporty, Marty thought. “I have frozen wings,” he said.
“Fresh is better. You know it is,” Jenny said.
“Is there one with no social activities? One with no bingo nights, dances or theme parties?”
“Sorry, Marty,” she said. “I think they all do. But you don’t have to go to any of them. You could come out for meals and football games and spend the rest of your time holed up in your room, all alone.”
“How is that different than what I have now?”
“Well, maybe you’ll make a friend. Maybe there is another old guy who loves the Falcons and you could talk with him about football instead of chatting with a teenager on the computer.”
“Jason16 is my friend,” Marty said defensively.
“Think about Diana. What would she have wanted for you? Would she have wanted you to spend the rest of your life alone, eating frozen meals?”
Marty didn’t answer at first. “Well, it’s her fault,” he finally said. “She is the one who left me like this.”
“I don’t understand,” Jenny said.
“Diana chose to Peace Out,” he said roughly. “She didn’t have to. She wasn’t terminal. She wanted me to Peace Out with her. But I refused and she did it without me. I held her in my arms while they put the needle in. While they lowered the mask onto her face. And the whole time I thought to myself, you are such a coward Marty. You are scared shitless of dying. That’s why you don’t have the guts to do it with her.”
“Oh, Marty,” Jenny said, tearing up. “I’m so sorry.”
“I promised her I would join an Enclave,” he said. “She begged me to promise her that. So she wouldn’t have to worry about me. But then I didn’t. I looked at all those brochures you have there. All those happy white haired folk eating at long tables, playing golf, taking salsa lessons. And I knew I could never be one of them.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t deserve to be,” he said, voice breaking. “I drove my son away long before he died. I nearly drove my wife away. When she decided to stay with me, I thought that we had healed whatever was between us. And the one thing she wanted in the end was to Peace Out together. I was too chicken shit to do it. I couldn’t give her that.”
“She had no right to ask for your life,” Jenny said. “It’s your life, not hers.”
“It was our life,” Marty said. “We were in it together.”
“She made the choice to leave,” Jenny insisted. “You couldn’t stop her and you had no obligation to go with her. You need to stop punishing yourself.”
“I’m not punishing myself,” he said. “I’m not good with people. You know that.”
“They just have to get to know you a little. You never let anybody do that. Listen, will you come with me to the Marietta Enclave? I’ll do the tour with you. If I see any harridans eyeing you, I’ll tell them you lost all your male parts in an unfortunate climbing accident.”
“Jenny!”
“What? The brochures are pretty clear on why they want men. I bet some of those old guys love it.”
SAMMY AND BECCA
There is all this hullabaloo over Peace Out, but there is really nothing to worry about. Peace Out underestimates that fact that at heart, we are animals. Animals with a basic instinct to survive. To live. Sure, they’ll get the terminally ill and people in comas, but this whole Pledge 70 thing? What sane person would voluntarily choose to end their life over some nebulous claims about the carrying capacity of the earth? This is just a new fad. It’s gonna go under in a year or two.
Mainline with Morris Pendergast, ABC, 5/27/2028.
Homeschooling really wasn’t so bad, Becca thought. The school part was way better than regular school. Mom never lectured them. She just gave the assignments, answered any questions and checked over their work when they were ready. Daddy bought them both tablets so they could keep track of everything. After watching them tap at the keyboard with two fingers he downloaded a typing game. The twins were at fifty words a minute in no time.
They completed the sixth grade curriculum in three months and were already a third of the way through seventh grade in everything but math. They had scorched through Algebra in two weeks and Geometry in a month. Mom had just started them on Algebra II. Becca heard her telling Daddy that she might need to find them a tutor for math beyond that because Mom really didn’t remember much.
They usually finished with school by lunch. Mom enrolled them in a club soccer league for their physical education requirement. The twins picked it up quickly and were both forwards. Daddy set up a goal in the backyard so they could practice. Most afternoons were spent outside. They still had Girl Scouts. It was their one time a week to see Christy. She kept them up to date on what was happening in school, including how Levi Mazzo was her boyfriend now and how everyone who did PO Ed had to write an essay about it for Mr. Eggers (who was not fired, much to the twins’ relief). The best essay from district got entered in the state level competition where the prize was a $10,000 scholarship. The national prize was $100,000. Christy asked her mother if it was OK to write a positive essay to try for the scholarship. Her mom said that a lawyer always writes to her audience, so of course she should write whatever she thought would win her that money. Mr. Eggers had picked Christy’s essay as the winner for class and now she was waiting for the results from district.
On rainy days Mom would put on a movie for them to watch with Grandma. Or they would read. Daddy gave them a monthly budget for books. Sammy used up her budget at the crystal library, but Becca hated the thought of books that disappeared after twenty days. She much preferred paper ones, even though that meant her budget didn’t go as far.
Mom was also teaching them how to cook. The twins now made dinner on Thursdays. They got to pick the recipe and do the shopping. At first Mom was very hands on, but now she only helped when there was a new technique to learn, like how to use the broiler or whip egg whites into stiff peaks.
Becca entered the final answer on her problem set. “I’m done,” Becca said. “Mom?”
Mom was on the phone, talking to Mrs. Whiting. She raised one hand for silence. Mom and Daddy had hired Christy’s mom to be their lawyer. Sammy and Becca knew they were suing about PO Ed, but didn’t understand why because Sammy was the one who forged the forms.
“Just a minute, Elaine,” Mom said. “Becca, you may be excused.” Mom went back to her call and Becca went up to her room to read. Sammy came in ten minutes later.
“Mom’s still on the phone,” she said, shutting the door. “Hey Becca?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you remember Andrew?”
Becca put down her book. The twins hadn’t really talked about him since Mom told them how he died. “A little,” she said. “I remember visiting him in the hospital a lot.”
“I remember him at our birthday party when we turned three. Remember he built us that dollhouse?”
“Oh yeah,” Becca said, “I remember that dollhouse. He made everything out of cardboard and we messed it up when we tried to give the dolls a bath in the tub!”
“I cried so hard about it and Andrew just dried everything off and made us a new bathtub.”
“He was a good big brother,” Becca said. “He was always nice to us.”
“He was,” Sammy agreed.
“Girls!” Mom called up the stairs. “I’m going to put a movie on for Grandma if you want to come down.”
“Want to?” Becca asked.
“No, I’m going to read.”
“I’m coming,” Becca shouted out the door. “Sammy is going to read up here.”
“I’m making popcorn,” Mom shouted back.
�
��I guess I can read downstairs,” Sammy said.
The girls settled in on the couch, Becca in the middle with Grandma and Sammy on either side of her. Sammy put her feet up on the coffee table and focused on her tablet, getting a handful popcorn from the big bowl in Becca’s lap. Grandma was drinking tea and nibbling a cookie.
“Are there any cookies left, Grandma?” Becca asked.
Grandma nodded. Becca dashed into the kitchen to grab some. She handed one to Sammy, whose eyes never left her tablet.
“What are we watching?” Becca asked as the movie started. “Oh, Mom told me this one was one of your favorites when you were a little girl.”
Grandma nodded.
Mom came in and sat in the armchair. She had her own bowl of popcorn. “Grandma thinks this is the greatest love story of all time.”
“WALL•E and Eve?” Sammy looked up from her tablet. “Two robots? Why?”
“Actually, I don’t know,” Mom said.
“Their love never has to end,” Grandma said, taking a sip of tea.
OLIVIA
Pledge 70. Do it for them.
POP Rail Ad Series, Buy Size Unknown, 2042. Text over images of adorable children with demographics targeted to location of the buy.
Olivia zipped her coat a little higher. The sun was bright and the sky was vast expanse of blue, but the air was still a tad chilly. She walked down the ramp, eyes searching for familiar faces.
“Grandma! Grandma!” her grandchildren shouted.
“Mom,” Mark called, waving. Olivia found herself hugged a dozen times. The children did not mention Joe. Olivia was glad they had been prepped for meeting her.
Bethany’s eyes were red as she gave Olivia a kiss on the cheek. “It is so good to see you.”
“How are you?” Jake asked.
“Let’s talk later,” Olivia said. “I’m hungry. Where are we eating?”
They had lunch at the Red Dog Saloon. Celia had called ahead, so several tables were pushed together for them. Afterward, Celia and the other spouses took all the kids to the steamboat for a cruise around the channel. Olivia and her children walked to a nearby coffee shop and found some open couches. “OK, Mom,” Jake said, after drinks and desserts were ordered. “How are you?”
“I’m not OK,” she said. “I may never be OK again. But I have decided that I am not going to Peace Out.”
“Thank God,” Bethany said with relief.
“Amen,” Jake said.
Mark took Olivia’s hand.
“I didn’t want Dad to go alone,” Olivia continued, “but he left without me. While he was in a coma, I could still pretend that he would live long enough for us to Peace Out together. And then he died. And I realized that I never truly faced the fact that Dad was going to die. By choosing to Peace Out, I didn’t have to grieve. I didn’t have to accept reality. I could make my own reality. I could choose my own ending.” Olivia sighed. “I miss him so much. I am still in the process of accepting that he is gone. But a dear friend said some things I needed to hear. She showed me what I have to live for.” Olivia smiled at her children.
“Will you come stay with us?” Mark asked.
“No,” Olivia said. “I need to be at home. To go through Dad’s things. To be by myself for a while.”
“You are welcome any time,” Mark said.
“My house too,” Bethany said. “The kids have been asking for bunk beds anyway. We’ll make room for you!”
“We will always be here for you,” Jake said.
“I know,” Olivia replied.
Olivia packed the last of Joe’s clothes into a box for the Salvation Army. The children had been by earlier that week to choose a memento. Jake picked a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches. Mark picked a soft sweater Olivia had knitted for Joe one Christmas. Bethany kept one of Joe’s hats. Olivia had started wearing Joe’s old bathrobe in the evenings. It still smelled like him. Olivia sealed the box and slid it against the wall with the others. Mark had promised to be by that weekend to pick up them up.
Olivia could hardly believe it had been two months since Joe passed. The first few nights at home she hadn’t been able to sleep, the emptiness in the bed next to her threatening to swallow her up. She moved to the guest room and it got better. The house held so many memories of them. Memories that she cherished, but that served as constant reminders of Joe. Sometimes they were comforting; sometimes she could barely stand to be in the house.
The dining room table looked too empty with just one plate and one cup. She had started eating in front of the television. She kept it on all day too, just so the house wouldn’t be so quiet.
The children had been wonderful, visiting as often as they could, checking in with her daily. She still felt like she was drifting, though. That her primary reason for existence had gone. Olivia was reading a lot about Enclaves in the area. They seemed to do a good job at filling the hours, at ensuring a constant community. Despite the big trip on the Lady Luck, there was still plenty left for her buy in.
In the time she had been back, the friends she and Joe shared faded away. No time for a widow when everything they did was in couples. Olivia was hurt by it until she recalled doing the same thing to another friend. Without her husband it just became too awkward to have her around. Olivia Indexed her and learned that she Peaced Out a year ago.
And now I’ve become her, Olivia thought. How awful I was to let my friendship with her fall apart when she needed a friend the most. How selfish.
Olivia put one hand to her necklace. The hand blown glass pendant held a small amount of Joe’s ashes. The artisan in Juneau made it right in front of her, swirling in different colors. Olivia wondered how Ned was doing. They hadn’t talked since he called to let her know Sophie was gone. Olivia had known something was wrong. She and Sophie had spoken every day since she returned to Chicago. Then Sophie missed two days in a row and hadn’t returned Olivia’s messages. Ned had looked so broken. She thought about calling him many times, but with the time difference to Sydney she never did. It was three weeks since Sophie’s death. She tried to remember how she had been feeling three weeks after Joe died.
It really was too bad that she had never been a pet person, Olivia thought. Taking care of a dog or cat would give her something to do. She decided to read a little bit more about the Enclaves. The phone rang.
“Hi Bethany,” she said, smiling at her. Bethany was in a slip, standing in her bedroom.
“Hi Mom,” she said, smiling back. “How are you?”
“Just doing some reading. How are you?”
“We’re good,” she said. “I’m trying to decide what to wear for the benefit tonight. Are you really OK with watching the kids? I can still call a sitter.”
“Don’t you dare,” Olivia said. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week!”
“So have you thought about taking a dance class?”
“By myself?” Olivia said.
“Not ballroom. Maybe ballet? Or how about a hobby. You cross-stitched all those samplers for the kiddos.”
“Maybe,” Olivia said. “But I don’t have any new grandkids coming, so who would I cross-stitch for?”
“Pillows? Napkins?”
“I’m not going to be one of those fussy old ladies with embroidered pillows and doilies on every surface and trunks of quilts and afghans.”
“Well, what do you like to do? You need to find something.”
“I’ve been looking at Enclaves.”
“Why? I don’t know if you have figured this out, but my brothers and I are competing to get you to live with us.”
Not Jake, Olivia thought dryly. “Free babysitting on demand?”
“Come on, Mom,” Bethany said. “Don’t pick a fight.”
“I am perfectly capable of living on my own. If I choose to do it in this house or in an Enclave, that is my decision.”
“Of course it is,” Bethany said.
“You all have done such a good job of letting me know I am loved and wan
ted. I truly appreciate it, I do. But think of what it would actually be like with me living in your third bedroom. The kids sharing a room, having to give up their privacy for me. An extra person at everything. It will be crowded. There will be conflicts. Maybe in a month or year or two it would be untenable. Then what? What will happen to our relationship when I am gently told I need to find another living situation?”
“Mom, it would never be like that.”
“You say that now,” Olivia said. “I’d rather not risk it.”
Bethany was silent for a few moments. “OK, Mom,” she said. “So which dress?” She held them up.
“The green one,” Olivia said. “It brings out your eyes.”
Olivia was in the middle of washing her breakfast dishes when the phone rang. She dried her hands on a towel and went to answer.
“Ned,” she said, surprised.
“Hi Olivia,” he said.
“It’s good to see you,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to call.”
“I’ve been meaning to call too,” he said. “It’s been so long.”
“How are you?”
“I’m OK,” he said. “I’ve thrown myself back into work. It has helped. How are you?”
“Lonely,” she said. “There is something so pitiful about making dinner for one. I’ve starting making a crock pot of stew on Sundays and eating it all week.”
“I’ve just been eating out,” Ned admitted. “I’m in the States for a case, though. I was wondering if I could come to visit.”
“You’re in Chicago?” she asked.
“Atlanta,” he said.
“I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way,” Olivia said.
“It wouldn’t be,” he said. “My firm has a branch there.”
“Oh, OK,” Olivia said. “Then that would be great! I’ll make you a home cooked meal.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Ned said.
ANNA AND SCOTT
Peace Out (The Futures Trilogy Book 1) Page 12
