The Rewind Series Boxset

by Jill Cooper

  Her mouth is open slightly in a gasp and beside her stands Dad. They glance at each other and quickly away.

  “Miranda,” I say loudly, “keep remembering where I grew up. Remember the macaroni and cheese. All right?”

  I doubt Miranda will see the images and hear the dialogue as I say it in this virtual world, but she will see the raw data, the technology of my brain. I’m hoping if she sees a pattern maybe she will notice. Maybe she’ll become open to what I’m about to say. Maybe, just maybe, Mom will begin to remember.

  And then I’ll have an ally.

  A real ally.

  I hug Molly goodbye and wave at the rest of the crowd. Molly bounces on her toes and throws petals of flowers in the air. The raining petals cascade around us as we get inside the limousine and we are whisked away by the driver. I lean into Donovan’s arms and he gives me a slow, drawn out kiss.

  “What was that about?” Donovan asks softly. “Calling your mom Miranda?”

  I shrug. “Just trying to get her attention.”

  Donovan seems suspicious and I’ll need to remember to be more careful. I don’t know if Mom will drive the plot of the virtual reality, but Rex will. I don’t need to plant doubt in his head before I manage to make any progress.

  “Nervous about tonight?”

  Our wedding night. Joy overcomes any nerves that may be bubbling inside my belly. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “I’ll make it special.” Donovan tightens his arms around me. “Maybe even some truffles.”

  A girl loves chocolate. “We’re an us now.”

  “Montgomery, don’t you know we’ve always been an us? Always.”

  ****

  The house my mom shares with Jax is cozy as ever as autumn sets in. From the kitchen window I can see the big elm tree on the street has lost most of its leaves and the ones it does still have are orange and red. Such a beautiful sight; I wish the twins were there to help me rake a big pile, but they have an important day too, out with their dad to the pumpkin patch along with their new big brother-in-law, Donovan.

  Our family has become seamless and, as Mom bustles in the dining room, I am hoping for more.

  The pot on the stove is boiling so I pour the macaroni in from the old blue and yellow box. I’ve made mac and cheese so many times I can do it without even looking. On the counter is a small bowl where four tablespoons of butter wait and beside that a quarter of a cup of milk.

  I stir the macaroni with a wooden spoon and cover my mouth with my arm. For some reason the act of cooking makes my stomach roll. I feel like I am going to be sick. The steam is warm and wafts into my face and I turn from it as I set the stove to a low simmer.

  The clang of silverware in the dining room draws my attention. “Are you all right?” Mom asks as she sets the final place setting on the table.

  The table is set for three.

  “I’m fine.” I stand still as Mom slides her forearm onto my forehead.

  “Normal.” Mom sounds disappointed. “But you look so pale.” She pats my cheeks and stares at me like she’s very worried.

  “I’m probably just hungry.”

  “Probably,” Mom’s voice echoes. “You want to tell me what we’re doing here today? Who is the mystery guest you’ve invited to dinner?”

  “Dad,” I said with a scrunch of my nose and Mom’s face goes pale and limp right in front of me. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Lara Montgomery James, if you’re up to some sort of reconciliation nonsense—”

  I shake my head. “No! Of course not. Just macaroni and cheese. Just like all those other times.” I slide my hand onto hers. “In our old brown paneled apartment. Don’t you remember?”

  Her eyes flutter. “Well, of course I remember. Who could forget? We were as poor as mice.” The doorbell rings and she jolts. Fear shows in her eyes.

  “Don’t be nervous. Just go get the door.”

  “I’m not nervous. I’m just… Okay, fine, I am. I testified at his trial, Lara. I helped convict him of something he didn’t do. I supported him being released, but how can that be enough?”

  “You’ve been together before.”

  “Yes!” Mom’s eyes widen. “For you. To stand by you at Patricia’s trial, but this…” When the doorbell rings again, Mom gasps and stares off toward it even though it’s blocked by a wall.

  “Unless you actually have x-ray vision, you can’t actually see him.” I push her toward the hallway. “Dinner is almost ready.”

  I hurry back to the kitchen to drain the water from the pot and the steam surfaces up from it. I can smell the macaroni and it turns my stomach. What the hell is wrong with me? I love macaroni and cheese. So I can’t begin to even fathom—

  “Thanks for having me over,” Dad says and Mom giggles with nerves. “When I was here for Lara’s birthday I didn’t get a chance to tell you what a nice place you have.”

  “Oh, thanks John. That’s so nice of you. You didn’t need to bring wine.”

  “Sorry it’s white. I didn’t know what Lara was making. She said it was special.”

  Happily, I present mac and cheese in a large mixing bowl. “Surprise!”

  “Your favorite.” Dad shakes his head with a chuckle and kisses my cheek. He grabs my arm when he does it and I feel so warm inside. Everything feels so perfect that I start to forget that this place I am in isn’t even a real place. It isn’t a place at all. It’ s just a corner inside my mind.

  “Hi, Dad.” I place the bowl down on the table and I dish it out into the three floral bowls that are on the table. Mom has gone all out with the yellow placemats and special silverware. As I set everyone’s filled bowls down, she is leaning across the table and lighting the white pillar candles in the center.

  “You don’t need to go to so much trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble.” Miranda gives Dad a sly smile. “Please, sit.” She gestures to the seat in the middle, which puts him closest to me.

  We settle in and I pick up my fork. I poke at my mac and cheese and watch the heat rise on up. Taking a deep breath I can smell that starchy mix of pasta and cheese, but it turns my stomach. I get close to gagging so I pick up my ice water and sip it.

  No one seems to notice as they are chewing their food. “Should I open the wine?” Mom asks and holds the bottle. “For us adults anyway.”

  Married, but still too young to drink, I force a smile. “Do you remember, Dad, when you taught me to make mac and cheese after…” Crap … after mom died. “Well, you used to let me stir. When Mom was out late.”

  “Yeah, I remember.” Dad spins the fork in his hand and his eyes darken. He glances over at Mom across the table. “It was a long time ago.”

  “It sure was.” Mom fiddles with the edges of her napkin. “We used to tuck you into that small bed. The one with the … brown walls.” Her voice flits and her eyes flutter.

  “We covered it up with pink fabric and cute drapes. But I don’t get why the walk down memory lane, Lara. I thought we were trying to move on,” Dad says.

  “We are. Some of the memories are happy ones, for me. They make me feel good.” I spoon some mac and cheese into my mouth and it’s hot, but that isn’t what bothers me about it.

  It’s the taste. It’s disgusting. Squishy and like someone warmed wet socks in my mouth.

  I try to force it down, but I can’t. I grab the nice, yellow, cloth napkin by my bowl and bring it to my mouth. I spit the mac and cheese out and rush the moldy taste away with water. “Ugh,” I sputter out and take another sip.

  “What’s wrong?” Mom asks.

  “Yeah, you love this stuff. You probably need to buy stock in the company.”

  I scowl at my bowl. “It just … tastes funny. Don’t eat it. Maybe the milk’s expired.”

  “Funny,” Mom says, “but the milk’s fine. And so is this.” She chews. “Yes, this is fine. What do you think, John?”

  “Tastes just like mac and cheese should. Over processed, which I’m pretty s
ure that’s what we are going for. You used to think it tasted funny too.”

  “I did?” Mom scrunches her nose as she thinks back. “Oh, I did! I didn’t know why until I found out about food aversion…” Her eyes go wide. “Lara!”

  “What?” This dinner isn’t going like I thought it would and not only am I frustrated, I’m annoyed.

  “When I was pregnant with you I couldn’t eat mac and cheese or chicken. Only fruit and cottage cheese. Everything else tasted, well, wrong.”

  Dad’s eyes grow. “You mean… You think…”

  Mom nods like it’s going out of style. I put down my fork and cross my arms. I have no idea what she’s getting at until she blurts out the words. “Maybe we’re going to be grandparents!”

  “You’re not talking about me, are you?” I lean across the table and study their faces. “You think I’m pregnant? Me?”

  “Well you are married, honey.” Mom smirks on one side of her mouth. “Imagine Mike and Molly as aunt and uncle. They’ll be so tickled about this.”

  “We don’t know anything yet.” Anxiety raises up from the pit of my stomach. I can’t believe where this conversation is taking us. But then I tick back the dates and realize it’s not out of the realm of possibilities.

  I am four days late. So Maybe.

  Maybe?

  ****

  Possibility turns into a bright pink stick.

  Neither of us can believe it, but Donovan and I snuggle in his study. The lighting is a warm, brown amber that matches the color of the leather the sofa we sit together on. I’m nestled in the crook of his arm and his fingers glide down my arm.

  “I just can’t believe it.” He kisses the top of my head and there’s still the track of shock in his voice. There is never a question of acceptance from him and I’m not surprised. I knew how Donovan would feel, but there is the question of Rex.

  The real Rex, not the dead one in the virtual reality.

  Somewhere he’s out there and now with a growing Montgomery-James inside of me… But it’s not real. It can’t be. Why would Rex give me everything I want? Only one reason, leverage. A way to manipulate me.

  If Rex comes for the baby to make me suffer, for revenge, I’ll end him.

  There are so many unspoken words between us, but I gaze up into Donovan’s eyes and understanding connects us. The flicker of his eye tells me everything I need to know.

  He’ll protect us.

  He’ll do whatever it takes. I just hope it won’t take that much.

  “My mother’s dead.” Donovan’s words echo around me and they threaten to pull the truth from me. I never told him I’m the one who assassinated his mother, but I never felt the need. In the still of the night, as he lays beside me, I’m sure he already knows.

  “She’s dead and the board, everyone is pressuring me to take my seat at the head of the Rewind Agency.”

  I prop myself up. It’s been a while since he’s said something that completely shocked me, but this one is a doozy and it’s one I’m not prepared for. “And you’ve turned them down?”

  Donovan nods, but he’s not gazing at me, he is gazing across the room at our wedding portrait on the wall. “All but the last time. This last time I told them I needed to talk to my wife.”

  “Me? You want me to what, get on board with you going to work for them? The Rewind Agency? The group that—”

  “—I know.” He takes my hand and kisses it. “It’s everything that nearly destroyed you and your family, but someone has to take the reins. It isn’t just going to fold or disappear, Lar. Someone needs to control it, teach it boundaries.”

  “And you think that person should be you?” I’m confused by his actions, confused by what it is I am supposed to do, why Rex wants me to go along with this. I don’t know what to do.

  Donovan’s smile relaxes me even though it’s not real. Nothing about this place is, but I love it. I feel like I’m at home. “I think that, together, you and I can pull it back on track, make it so scientists aren’t running experiments that are secret and illegal, that we can follow the law and make the Rewind Agency be what it’s supposed to be. A novelty. Not something that is meant to change the world. I think we can do that together.”

  His eyes squint and I see something in them that isn’t Donovan. For a split second the façade drops and for a moment in time I am staring at Rex. But then Donovan relaxes again and everything is the same.

  I know what I have to do. I have to lie to keep Rex off my trail. To keep him from realizing I am trying to find a way out of everything.

  So I smile and my hand squeezes my husband’s thigh as I lean in with a passionate “Yes.” I seal my sin with a kiss.

  ****

  “Blue tie or red?” Donovan holds them up as he stands by the window. The bedroom in our sixty-sixth floor apartment is larger than most people’s entire homes. I have to walk across the plush carpets before I can even see what he is holding in crisp detail.

  “Blue.” I take the sides of his pale blue shirt and button them up. Biting my lip, I reflect on how handsome he is, how mature he’s growing. Have I been plugged into the system that long or is Rex speeding up time to get me where he wants me to be? How much time have I lost?

  “Big day.” I’m proud of the person Don is becoming. I kiss his cheek as he slings the tie under the collar of his shirt.

  “Help me with this, will you, rock star? I’m all thumbs. I’m too nervous to do this.” Donovan lets out a deep breath and closes his eyes.

  I’d never let him down. I take his tie and in a few swoop of movements I have a fine example of an Eldredge knot. Donovan gazes at his reflection with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

  “YouTube.” I pat his chest with my explanation. “You want breakfast? I can have someone whip you up something.” I start to move away, but Donovan slings his arms around me and squeezes me from behind.

  “Just tell me it’ll all be okay,” he whispers against my neck and it sends a chill down my spine. “Tell me I’m not an idiot for trying to reform that place after what it did to you. To everyone.”

  I close my eyes and place my open palm against his cheek. His cologne is spicy and it drives my heart to madness. Do I think he can do it? Yes, of everyone he is the one I trust the most. Do I really want him in the belly of the beast? I’m too protective to want that.

  “You’re not an idiot,” I whisper and turn to glance at his profile. Being with him makes my heart swell in ways I’ve never felt before. Being pregnant with his child is compounding all my feelings for him. Now they are so deep, intense, I know I would do anything for him and the small family that grows inside me.

  It’s like Donovan can read my mind as he places his hands on my middle, but I’m barely showing. If I am, it’s mostly just bloat from my raging hormones. Deep inside, I feel different. My stomach is stretching and sometimes the cramping makes me think I might lose the baby and that thought horrifies me.

  But if this is a virtual reality, how do I know that? Does that mean Mom, on the outside as she monitors me, is feeding me this information? If so, does that mean she can remember what it was like when she carried me and my twin siblings? When will they wake me up again so I can talk to her, see how all these ‘experiments’ are going?

  “Come with me,” Donovan says.

  “Not yet.” I pivot to face him. “Let’s see how it goes first, then I’ll join you. Until, of course, we have the baby.”

  The baby. My heart skips a real beat.

  His face lights up. “All right. That sounds like a promise I can live with.” He kisses my nose. “What are you filling your day with today?”

  “Mostly philanthropy exploits. A kid’s charity down town. Then lunch with my mom, if I can keep anything down. But a girl has to eat.”

  We embrace and I nestle myself deep into his arms. “Be safe, rock star. Everything I’m doing is for you. Us. We’ll make sure Rewind never hurts anyone else like they hurt you again.”

  “I’m
counting on it,” I whisper and rest my chin on his shoulder. For a brief moment, I wish this virtual world were real. I wish I could really hold Donovan. I wish he hadn’t died in the back of an alley.

  ****

  Mom meets me at the café and she’s carrying a binder under her arm. She looks relaxed in a pair of jeans and a long sleeved fitted shirt. It’s spring time again in Boston so I grab a small, brown table on the curb that is bordered with a black fence. The air smells of a mixture of lavender and diesel fuel, thanks to the nearby subway station. But that smell brings back so many memories of being young in the city that I love it. Nostalgia swirls through me as Mom waves.

  I return the greeting and sip my milk as Mom slides her chair in, it grates against the sidewalk as she does so. The sound reminds me of the last time we sat at this café, only then it was real. Then I was piecing all the information about Mom’s supposed mugging together. It feels like a lifetime ago and, in a lot of ways, it actually was a lifetime ago.

  “Hi!” Mom flags down a waitress to order an iced tea and some lunch, like she always does. “How was the meeting?”

  “Good.” I hand her over a flyer. “Things are really coming together.”

  Mom reads it over. “I’m so proud of you, Lara, for wanting to help out these children. Disaster can come hard and fast, believe me I know.” When her iced tea arrives, she sips it. “Jax and I don’t have much spare money left anymore after all the legal bills, but we want to help out as much as we can.”

  I smile. “I appreciate it, really. Maybe you could help spread the word with your contacts? Or help me organize. I’m new at all this and feel like such a poser.”

  Mom reaches across the table and pats my hand. “You are not a poser. You’re a young, talented, vibrant woman.” Briefly she glances at her phone. “We have an hour before I have to pick up the kids.”

  “How do you like staying home with them full time?”