Jerry and Betty’s saga continues to grow. I’m liking the rewrite. Wish it would come faster, and I’m liking what’s going on.
You?
How Jerry and Betty Became the Least Entertaining Couple in the Neighborhood (Fourth Section)
Betty wrenched somethng warm, soft, and somewhat sticky from her face. She sat up, surprised she wasn’t restrained.
She was home, on her bed, under the covers. Jerry stood beside her. Worry lines criss-crossed his brow.
He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and took the warm facecloth from her. “It’s okay, Princess, we’re home, we’re safe.”
She focused on his hands holding the cloth.
When did his skin get so dark? So mottled? Where those liver spots? He wasn’t that old a man. He travelled in cryosleep but at translight speeds for most of the trip. She knew he’d age differently but this?
Nobody told her about this.
Dr. Koss –
She chilled under the covers. Her hands went numb with cold as if holding arctic ice. Her head snapped back and forth as she searched the room.
“What is it, Betty? What do you need?”
“We were at the MFA. In Boston. How’d we get home? I don’t remember coming home.”
“Dr. Koss said you passed out. Exhaustion. He gave you something to relax and sleep.”
“How long was I out?”
Jerry pulled back slightly. His eyes widened. He sat beside her on the bed and took both her hands in his. “Out, Princess? You slept for about a day. We came home on a transport out of Logan. Don’t worry, you had a full team monitoring you.”
She pulled her hands back. “I wasn’t exhausted, I was drugged.”
He held his hands out for hers. “Princess, Dr. Koss – ”
Her face blanched. She clamped onto his hands with fingers like claws and She screamed, “I don’t want to hear about Dr. Koss!”
His fingers wrapped around hers. “Okay. Whatever you say.” He nodded. “Would you be willing to see your own doctor? Just to be sure?”
She stared into his face.
Those weren’t worry lines, they were wrinkles. When did he get so old?
“Fine. Yes. Sure.”
He didn’t move.
“Let me get up. I’ll make us some breakfast. Is it morning? Doesn’t matter. I’ll still make breakfast.”
Questions or comments? Bring ’em on. They’ll help me craft a better story.
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