Undead and Unfinished
Chapter 61-64

Chapter 61
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!"
"Okay, wait. It's not as bad as you think."
I started kicking and beating on the door closest to me. Because we were, of course, still stuck in hell's waiting room. "I hate everything! Satan, you bitch, let us out! Your daughter can't take over the family business if I strangle her with my disgusting leggings! Which I'm going to do! If you don't let us out!"
"Betsy, stop screaming and look."
"Why?" My fists were getting numb. They had good craftsmanship in hell. "Look at what?"
Laura pointed. I looked. "There's only one door left. All the other ones are gone."
I stopped in mid-pummel.
She was right. When we'd started this series of timehoppin' hijinks, the entire room had been wall-to-wall doors, each about two feet apart. The others were gone; there was just the one left.
"This better mean what I hope it means."
"Sure it does. Otherwise, what would be the point?"
"Yeah. Why would the devil want to fuck with people just for the sake of-"
"Okay, okay, you made your point. Really loudly, as usual. Come here so I can hit you in the face so we can time travel some more."
"I just wish that was as cool as it sounded." I straightened and faced her. "Sock it to me. Literally, I guess."
"Nah, watch!" She gave me a gentle shove . . . and the knob turned! "See?"
"You are getting the hang of this!" I wouldn't deny it; I was happy for her and delighted for me. "Damn, Laura! Niiiiice!"
"Yeah, I figured it out after we came back from rescuing Nick."
"Well, that's-wait. What?"
"I just wasn't completely sure I didn't have to smack you . . ."
"Nice try. Remind me to accidentally kick you in the shins for a couple of hours." The door swung open, and we stared into the abyss. "Onward and upward."
Chapter 62
Okay. This is ... anticlimactic."
Laura had never spoken truer words. We were in a small cement-lined room, maybe twenty by twenty. No windows. Sizeable double doors . . . metal doors, on either end of the room. There was nothing in this big, boring room except the two of us. No table, no chairs, no carpet. Not even a shoe bench.
We looked at each other. Laura shrugged, and I stepped forward to try the doors closest to us. They opened with identical pneumatic hisses, efficient and chilly, like the back-to-school sale at Kohl's.
We could see a corridor lined with doors and, at the end of the corridor, another set of doors, these made of some sort of dark wood. Cherry, maybe, or mahogany.
Laura and I looked at each other again, and this time, we both shrugged. I extended an arm to open the wooden door, but that opened on its own, too. The place was crawling with electric eyes.
We stepped into a gorgeous office, and the first thing I saw was the enormous dark wood desk. It took up half the plush office, practically.
The second thing I noticed was the woman sitting behind the desk.
I was sitting behind the desk.
Chapter 63
Oh, you're here. Finally," the other me said with a disapproving tone.
"Uh," I said, because as God (or Laura's mom) was my witness, I had no idea what to say. At all.
"I thought I remembered us arriving a day earlier." The other me sighed. "But you're here now. I guess:"
Laura was looking at me, and then at me. And I was looking at me, too. I looked the same-same blonde hair, same red lowlights. Same thirty-year-old face. I was wearing a steel gray sheath dress with a sharp, square neckline. No jewelry . . . not Erin's necklace, nothing.
No engagement ring, no wedding ring.
"You look . . . nice."
"And you stink," Other Me said, opening a drawer and rummaging through it. "Ye gods. I can't believe I didn't take five minutes in one of those time streams to hose off. The Mississippi River was right there in one of them, and I didn't take so much as a quick dip."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," I snapped back, and Laura's hand flew up to pinch her lips. But her shaking shoulders told the story and restored some of my equilibrium. "So, where are we?"
"Don't you mean when?"
"Are you going to tell us, or do we have more of your stand-up to listen to?" Yep, I was a real bitch. Times two.
"You're in Minnesota, of course. I'm entirely too attached to this part of the world," Other Me muttered. "Though I did try to like Hawaii before things got chilly." She had taken a sort of computer thingie out of her drawer-it was flat, like a pad, and only about eight inches tall and five inches wide, like a Kindle, but complex. No plugs and no buttons. Now she was sliding her fingers across it, talking to us without looking up. So rude. "It's July third and if memory serves, you're here to observe, panic, raise a ruckus, be irritating, ask many unnecessary questions, start a couple of fights, judge our way of life without suggesting how we might improve, then depart vowing to save the world. As you can see," Other Me said, laying her weird electric-pad computer thing aside, "you failed. Because I remember being here, talking to me. I remember you." She pointed at Laura and finally showed an expression that resembled warmth: she smiled. "I remember being dismayed at what I found here, and I remember swearing to find a way to fix it. As you can see, I didn't."
Neither Laura nor I could think of a thing to say.
"Since you now know you can't fix anything," Other Me said hopefully, "maybe you can skip all the nonsense and just return to hell. Which reminds me." Another warm smile for Laura. "Say hello to your mother for me when you get back."
"Okay," she replied, wide-eyed.
"I'm kind of in the middle of things right now," Other Me said, running distracted fingers through her fabulous highlights. "But I've arranged for a tour. And for your many pointless annoying questions to be answered."
"Well, gee whiz, I didn't get you anything."
"Yes, very funny."
The big wooden door opened and a gorgeous guy poked his head in. "Hi, you rang? Oh!"
"Yes, they're here, finally, could you . . . ?" Other Me was back at work, not looking up from her thing-that-wasn't-a-Kindle.
"Sure," Gorgeous Guy replied, and grinned at us. "Come on, I'll give you the fifty-dollar tour."
"My mom always called it the nickel tour."
"Mine, too!" Laura said, brightening. "My adopted mom, I mean."
"Well, inflation," he said, and ushered Laura and me back out into the hallway.
Chapter 64
Okay! So, what can I tell you guys?"
"How about your name?" Laura asked. "I'm Laura, and this is my sis-"
Gorgeous Guy burst out laughing. "Oh, jeez, I know who you guys are. Or maybe you didn't notice that she looks exactly like the busy lady in the office."
"It hadn't escaped me," Laura admitted.
He was looking from her to me and me to her, and his grin was so open and sunny I had a terrible time not smiling back. But most of me was still stumbling around in shock, mentally speaking. There was a lot of info to take in, and there hadn't been much time to do it.
Our tour guide was taller than both of us, a good two inches more than Laura (yeah, my sis: prettier, smarter, thinner, taller . . . bitch!), and slender, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He was wearing khaki pants and a blue T-shirt, practical clothing that didn't disguise his flat stomach and (I assumed, and would check out the first chance I had) awesome butt.
He was pale-not sickly or unhealthy, but the guy hadn't been getting a lot of sun, which made his shock of black hair seem darker and his blue eyes bluer. His jaw bloomed with dark stubble, but despite the slight beard, he gave off an air of youth and exuberance and-it was hard to explain-good times.
Some people, they just seem cheerful all the time, and when you're around someone like that, it's hard to stay worried or grumpy.
"Come on," he teased. "You guys can't figure out who I am? You both know me, back in your when."
So he knew us (obviously) and knew we were time traveling. (Also obviously, since Other Me had clearly prepped him.) But who could we know who was around now-when-ever now was-but who also-also-
"Holy God!" I cried. It was the hair, really. That shock of black hair, startling on someone so fair-skinned. It was the first thing I'd noticed about him.
About my brother.
"BabyJon!"
"Aw, man." Gorgeous, grown-up BabyJon covered his face, then dropped his hands and shook his head. "I outgrew that nickname a while ago, Mom."
"Mom?" I nearly yelled.
"Okay, technically you're my big sister-like you're Aunt Laura's big sister-"
"Aunt L-"
"-but I grew up calling you Mom. But if that's freaking you out, since I'm still shitting in my crib where you come from-"
"That's a weird way to put it," Laura said.
"Look, I'll try to master the whole toilet thing as quickly as I can, but bottom line, right now in your when, I'm suffering the heartbreak of fecal and urinary incontinence." He threw up his hands. "I'm owning it, okay? Don't judge."
It was too much. I burst out laughing. And Babyjon-Jon, I s'pose-joined me. It was kind of nice. I remembered it for a long time, because it was about the only nice moment we had the ninety minutes we were there.