Jack And Anna - Back To Winnipeg

8. Their Pretty Life-2

Maybe she should start charging for her services. Just how much would these hens pay for the privilege of going to sleep at night without worrying that some monster was going to show up in their bedrooms?

“We’ll only be on Earth for a few weeks,” Anna said. “And then we’ll be going back to Alios.”

With that, the girls resumed their discussion of office politics. Anna sat quietly and counted the seconds until she could leave without offending anybody. She just hoped that Jack was having an easier time inside.

* * *

The huge, flatscreen TV cast a pale glow over the living room. Holly James stared intently into the camera. Her face glistened with sweat, and her long hair was just messy enough to look wild without compromising s*x appeal. At least, that was what Jack took away from that particular closeup.

“Oh, yeah,” Mike growled. “I so would.”

soSitting on the couch with his hand closed around a beer that he rested on his thigh, he directed a smug smile toward the TV. It was almost as if he thought Holly could see him. And thank God she couldn’t.

Mike was handsome enough, Jack supposed. A big and burly dude who left the top buttons of his shirt undone, he had a bit of a paunch and a thick, brown beard to match his curly hair. Some people liked the bear aesthetic, but the way he leered at the television? Nobody would like that. About five minutes ago, Jack had moved to a chair on the other side of the room just to get away from him.

Standing next to the couch arm, Peter smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. “Easy there, buddy.”

“What? You telling me you wouldn’t throw it in her?”

Peter took a swig of his beer, shot a glance toward the balcony and sighed. “I think we’ll save this discussion for a time when my fiancé isn’t twenty feet away.”

“What about you, Jack?” Mike pressed.

Deep creases formed in Jack’s brow. “I think we should interrogate our tendency to evaluate every woman we see in terms of whether we want to have s*x with her.”

“Thank you!” Randy exclaimed.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you buy into all that woke bullshit too.”

“Speaking of,” Peter cut in. “Jack, is there any chance I can get you and Anna to join us for the protest on Saturday? We need all the bodies we can get.”

“That depends. What are we protesting?”

“Logan Beck. He’s a right-wing influencer, and he’s giving a talk at the university. We’re gonna show him that his brand of politics isn’t welcome here.”

“Yeah,” Mike scoffed. “Heaven forbid you should listen to someone who tells the truth! You guys are such snowflakes.”

A very flustered Peter turned to his brother. “So, you got the letter from Mr. Hunter,” he began in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “That’s great!”

The new topic might have been a relief for Peter, but anyone could see that it sent Randy’s anxiety shooting through the roof. The poor guy was a wreck! Pale-faced and wild-eyed, he started to fidget. “Yeah! Yeah! It’ll be great!”

“Are you excited?”

“Uh…Yeah.”

Dismayed, Peter offered a weak smile. “Well, I think it’ll be nice to have some stability in your life.”

“Stability?” Jack prodded.

“He’s been searching for a job for a while now,” Peter explained. “Things haven’t always gone his way, but I think working with the police will be a great opportunity.”

“And you?” Jack asked, unable to stifle his curiosity. “What field did you end up going into?”

Peter chuckled, falling back against the wall as he took another sip of his beer. “Insurance,” he said. “I do claims analysis. It’s not exactly thrilling, but it pays the bills.”

And it paid them quite well if this condo was any indication. The Peter that Jack remembered had been obsessed with game design. It was all he would talk about in their final year of high school: shooter mechanics and ray tracing and the ethics of letting players buy better gear. It was all a jumbled mess in Jack’s mind; he hadn’t paid much attention during those long screeds. For him, video games were just something to do when you needed a break from homework. But he remembered how much his friend loved them.

He had always assumed that Peter would find his way into the gaming industry. The thought of his buddy in some dreary office job saddened him. But then who was he to judge? If Peter was happy, that was all that mattered.

“So, when do you start?” Mike asked.

“Um…Next month,” Randy mumbled.

“Trust me,” Peter said, “you’ll be so much happier once you get yourself settled into a steady routine.”

Randy perked up. “Well, see, I was talking to Anna earlier.” He looked to the balcony as though hoping she would come through the door and back him up. “She was telling me that I could apply to an arts program at a Leyrian university.”

Groaning, Peter turned away from his brother and raised a hand to his forehead. “Randy, not this again! I thought you were over this!”

“What’s the harm in letting him apply?” Jack asked.

The other man replied with a glare that told him to shut up. “He gets these flights of fancy. He thinks he’s gonna be some famous artist.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be famous,” Randy interjected.

Whirling around, Peter made sharp, chopping gestures as he strode toward his brother. Poor Randy was forced to retreat. “No, you’re not going to be famous! Do you know how b****y hard it is to make a name for yourself in the art world? Do you know how good you have to be to make a living doing that?”

Randy was pinned against the wall, shuddering as he tried to collect himself. “I just like painting,” he stammered. Jack’s heart went out to him.

Rising, he cleared his throat. “Maybe we should get going,” he suggested. “It’s getting late. Anna and I are still a little jetlagged.”

“Yeah,” Randy mumbled. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

* * *

Anna wasn’t sure exactly what had happened while she was out on the balcony, but it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. She had caught a few snippets of Peter’s outburst. It seemed Randy would be facing quite a bit of resistance if he chose art school over a job with the cops. Which was a shame. She was ninety-nine percent convinced that he would be much happier if he pursued his passion, and not just because he loved painting.

muchRandy was a sensitive lad; you only had to spend five minutes with him to figure that out. Guys like that didn’t last long on a police force. Not on Earth, anyway. Cops weren’t quite so severe where she came from.

The kid had potential; there was no denying that. He might make a good Keeper if he found just a little more confidence. The Nassai preferred hosts who showed a great deal of empathy. But an Earth cop? No. They would berate him for sympathizing too much with a homeless woman or a d**g addict.

She thought about saying as much, but the poor guy had been through enough pain for one night. She didn’t want to get him in even more trouble, so she kept her mouth shut. The minutes passed in utter silence until finally, Randy dropped them off in front of Arthur’s house.

She was tired – and she suspected that her husband was even more so – but neither one of them found the will to go inside. Instead, they just hung out on the porch, listening to the crickets chirping. It was going on eleven o’clock; this sleepy, little neighbourhood had turned in for the night.

Anna sat with her legs curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. “I’m sorry I made us go to that thing,” she muttered.

In the dim light, Jack was little more than a shadow who sat beside her, gazing off into the distance. His lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile. “I’m glad you did. It was nice to see Peter again.”

“Somehow, I’m guessing it didn’t go quite as you imagined.”

“Well, he’s different,” Jack admitted. “The fancy apartment, the expensive wine: those weren’t really his style back in the day. But I figured I could adapt to it, you know? Sure, he’s a little Fraiseresque, but so what?”

“Mmm.”

“Then I saw him tearing into Randy…”

Anna pursed her lips, nodding slowly. Hearing all of that second-hand was bad enough; the other ladies went silent, pretending they hadn’t noticed Peter’s tirade, while Anna Lenai fought the urge to go inside and make a scene. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for Jack, being right in the thick of that nonsense. “Way out of line,” she agreed. “I don’t know. Sometimes, I forget what it was like for you, growing up on a world that was always trying to force you into this mould of normalcy.”

“Yeah, well, Jack smash, right?”

She couldn’t help but smile as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Yeah,” she murmured. “But now it’s happening to Randy. I’m starting to wonder if you guys might have a few things in common.”

“You think he’s living in Spectrumville?”

“The thought had occurred.”

Jack slipped his arm around her, pulling her close so he could smooch her forehead. “That’s why I’m glad I have you: the one person in this messed-up galaxy who gets me.”

“Sounds like you’re feeling better,” she remarked. “Helps to get all that pain off your chest, huh?”

“Yes. Although I am wondering how many times I’m going to hear ‘I told you so.’”

amGiggling, Anna nuzzled his cheek. “Meh, only five more times,” she promised. “But I reserve the right to space them out over the remainder of your life. So, be prepared for me to bring it up randomly when we’re like sixty.”

She stood, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet. “Come on,” she said. “It’s happy, sleepy, cuddle time.”