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Geri
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I’m wondering if there’s a quantifiable way to measure what spreads news faster: small-town talk or social media. Judging by the number of cars parked in front of my parents’ house, I’m going with small-town talk.
“Seriously? A welcome home party?” I whine from the back seat of my parents’ Audi, feeling like a little kid again.
It’s almost embarrassing—the child being brought home from the police station by her parents. And now I have to go in there and face everyone. I have to receive their concern and respond to it then reassure them I’m okay without coming off as internally broken and requiring psychiatry.
Mom looks over her shoulder at me from the front passenger seat. “Well of course, honey. Everyone is concerned, and there’s still a lot of family in town from your brother’s wedding.”
“It’s just...” I don’t finish the sentence because I know better. The thing that goes hand in hand with small-town talk is small-town support. Half of Pembroke is going to be in my parents’ house, plus a table full of casseroles, nacho dips, and potato salad. A smorgasbord of love and calories.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but I have been itching to write my reportage all day, to get online and reach out to news agencies so I can sell my first-hand account of a story that has gripped the nation for the last five days. This is my window of opportunity, and it’s going to close fast.
God, I had no idea it would feel this great to leave Global. Now that losing my paycheck has come to pass, the fear is gone, and I can see how that fear was holding me back, blinding me to a world brimming with possibilities. And I’m excited to get started on a new direction in life.
So it’s been a struggle today, because instead of writing my story and getting the scoop on my own captivity, I’ve been stuck in protective custody on account of Caveman giving his jailers the slip and being on the loose. Despite my begging the RCMP to stop at the lodge so I could collect my things, they took me straight to Pembroke Regional, where I had to sit idle for hours in the waiting room, watching someone else report on my story with incorrect facts on a flat screen TV with missing pixels.
So even though I appreciate the outpouring of love and support by the community that’s jam-packed into my parents’ house, I would rather be heading back to the lodge to get my laptop... and see Sean.
He’s been on my mind too. A lot.
I owe him an apology. How many times over the past week did I tell him that I’m not a kid anymore? Then I went and gave him the silent treatment the minute I didn’t get my way. Let’s face it, he was the mature one to say no to me, to make the choice not to cheapen our relationship with casual sex. It just hurt when he said he couldn’t offer me a future. I wanted to save face and cover up that crack in the veneer that left me looking vulnerable and weak.
In hindsight, the smart thing would’ve been just to respect his decision instead of stomping away, shutting him out, and sloughing off his offer to come with me to find the hunters. If he had been with me, the odds are good that I wouldn’t have been taken captive. And I really need to see him again to explain all that, just in case he’s feeling as though he failed in his big-brother duties.
My car door opens, and Dad is staring in at me. I hadn’t even realized the car was parked.
“You going to get out, Geri?” he asks.
Mom is already halfway to the front door, standing on the tiled walkway, waiting for us. I notice her tulips are up in the front garden. They weren’t last week.
“Yeah.” I shake myself out of my deep thoughts and try to clear my mind for the event ahead.
Dad gives me a helping hand out of the car and holds me there for a moment. “You okay?”
“I just spent half the day at Pembroke Regional and left with a clean bill of health. I’m fiiiine,” I say, a little exasperated.
The corner of his mouth turns up into a half smile. “Did anyone check to make sure your head and your heart are in sync?”
I huff out a laugh. “Do you know how much I love you?”
He hugs me. “I never get tired of hearing it.” Then he takes me by the hand and leads me into the house.
As I step inside, there’s a pause in the chatter coming from the kitchen. An eager voice exclaims in a raspy whisper, “They’re here.” I’m suddenly struck by a bashfulness that sears my cheeks. I hate being the center of attention.
“Geri.” Aunt Janice walks down the hall to meet me, arms outstretched, eyebrows knitted fretfully.
She embraces me and hugs me tight. Over her shoulder, I see Emma staring at me with tears running down her cheeks. A lump blooms in my throat and tears sting my eyes, completely taking me by surprise because I didn’t even know I was upset.
I hug Aunt Janice back, my eyes never leaving Emma’s. As soon as she lets me go, Emma runs and practically body slams me then grips me in a hug that threatens to cut off my breathing. And I can’t help it—I break into wracking sobs while I cling tightly to my sister.
“I’m okay,” I whisper in her ear. “I really am. He didn’t hurt me.”
“Oh my God, Geri. He could’ve killed you.” Emma’s voice is thick from crying.
An audience has gathered in the hallway, and I quickly sniff back my tears, push out of Emma’s embrace, and use the heels of my hands to dry my cheeks. “I’m really okay,” I say to the crowd at large. “And starving. Did anyone bring a casserole?”
At least five hands go up, and there’s a round of relieved laughter. Aunt Janice insinuates herself at my side, links an arm around my elbow, and steers me toward the kitchen while she launches into an apology for bringing store-bought potato salad, but the kitchenette at the hotel where she’s staying wasn’t big enough to even make toast.
I’m surprised to see Michelle Asston and Lacey Holmes here, standing side by side as they lean against the counter by the sink. It feels out of place for them to be here without Mark.
Michelle puts her hand to her chest when she sees me. “Geri, I almost died when Mark texted me the news.” She steps forward to hug me, but Emma runs interference, putting an arm around my shoulders.
“I texted Mark when I heard the news,” Emma says.
I lean closer to my sister. “But he’s on his honeymoon.”
“He’d never forgive us if we didn’t let him know. I talked him out of coming home after Mom called me and said you were doing okay.”
“We were all sorry to hear what happened to you, Geri,” Lacey says.
I force a smile. “Thank you, Lacey.”
“Oh, and”—Emma flicks a subtle, disparaging look at Michelle—“Sean got in touch with Mark because he didn’t have our phone numbers. He’s on his way here, bringing your things and Mark’s SUV back.”
Understanding washes over me. That’s why Michelle is here. She knows Sean is on his way.
“So you and Sean were, like, together?” Michelle asks, unabashed disbelief crossing her features. “You met each other at the hotel?”
I want to tell her it’s none of her business, but Mom is lurking nearby, trying unsuccessfully to look as though she’s not eavesdropping. So for her sake I put to rest any ideas about a secret lover rendezvous with Sean Eastman.
“It was coincidence that we ended up staying at the same lodge.” My mind travels back to when I first saw him, jumping up over the side of the bluff, half-naked and beautiful, ready to battle the coyotes that were chasing me. Superman to my Lois Lane. “He was up there for a government project, looking for alloys or something. Anyway, I didn’t see much of him while I was there.” Except for the night he tore my hotel door off the hinges. That night, I saw a whole lot of him, and the memory is making my heart thud in my chest.
Why did he break into my room? I have to wrack my brain to remember it was because I crashed my lamp after I swallowed a bug, and he mistook the ruckus as an intruder attacking me. I seem to be having a lot of difficulty remembering all the details about my weekend at the lodge, and it’s troubling. Am I suffering some kind of amnesia?
“Oh, so you weren’t together,” Michelle says, a satisfied look of understanding replacing the disbelief.
“So what if they were?” Emma asks disdainfully. “It’s their business and no one else’s.”
With her arm still around my shoulders, Emma turns me toward the table full of food. I shrug a shoulder at Michelle, feign a look of innocence, and let my sister guide me to the food.
It takes me forever to fill a plate and even longer to eat it because I have to recount my ordeal, as it has been dubbed, to each and every person in the room. I retell it over and over again—the thrill of meeting the Sasquatch hunters, hiking through the woods on my own to find their camp, taking pictures of the tracks they found, then the terrifying excitement of finding an injured Sasquatch, which turned out to be my captor in disguise.
Throughout the evening, my eyes keep straying toward the door, wondering when Sean is going to get here, and when the doorbell finally rings, my stomach clenches from the butterflies taking flight. I have to set my plate down lest my trembling hands give me away.
Michelle rushes to the door before I can.
I make as though I don’t care, as though it doesn’t matter to me if she’s the one to greet Sean.
But Emma sets her plate down and marches out into the hall. “Sean,” I hear her say as she disappears into the hallway.
Even though I knew he was coming and I’ve had over an hour to get my nerves in check, the emotional lightning bolt that hits me when he walks into the kitchen damn near buckles my knees. His eyes lock onto me, their usual crystal brightness replaced by a dark stormy blue that blends in with the dark creases under his eyes. He looks exhausted.
The lump in my throat is back, and I’m appalled to feel my lips curve downward of their own accord as tears escape down my cheeks. It was one thing to have this reaction with my sister but quite another to have it with Sean, whom I’ve already confessed to the room at large means nothing to me.
He crosses the room and gathers me against him, chanting in a whisper, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The feel of his lips moving against my hair is an oddly familiar comforting touch that soothes my sobs.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I manage to say, getting myself under control. “I shouldn’t have gone off by myself to look for the hunters. I was just angry, and I had no right to be. You were only being...” I hesitate, feeling self-conscious again as the faces in the room emerge out of the blurry white noise they faded into when Sean walked into the room. And I remember that he turned down my sexual advances because he couldn’t offer me a future, because he didn’t want to cheapen what we already had with a one-night stand. I lean away from him, collecting myself, and drop my arms from around his neck to pat him on his forearms. “You were only trying to be a good big brother, and I was being pigheaded.”
His lips tug up into a smirk, his tired eyes lighting up with a playful spark. “You’re right, McKenna. You should listen to me more often.”
I exhale a shaky laugh as I step out of his embrace and chuck him in the arm. “Not likely, Eastman.”
A stilted laugh escapes Michelle. She puts a hand on her chest and expels a sigh of relief. “For a moment there, I thought you were going to profess your love. But that would’ve been weird, right?”
Sean ignores her. “C’mon.” He gives me a nudge toward the hall. “Your stuff is in the SUV. I hear you’ve been missing your laptop.”
“You have my laptop?” I ask excitedly, practically skipping down the hall. Now if everyone would just leave, except Sean of course, life would be good again.
“I’ll come and give you a hand,” Michelle says.
I turn my eyes heavenward, seeking the strength not to lose it with Michelle, asking the universe in general why she has to be a constant prick in my side.
Then Sean does something unexpected. As soon as we’re in the hall, away from the eyes of everyone in the kitchen, he turns around and puts a hand up to halt Michelle. “Sorry, but I’d like some time alone with Geri,” he says in a voice that doesn’t invite argument.
I continue to the door, thinking I’m not getting in the middle of that conversation. But my heart does a somersault as I wonder why Sean wants to be alone with me.
“Oh. Ummm... huh,” Michelle stammers.
My hand is on the doorknob, so I go ahead and open it, making my escape from whatever awkwardness is going on between them.
Ten seconds later, Sean steps across the threshold and closes the door behind him, muting the sounds coming from the party inside. I continue my way to the SUV, listening to the sound of his footsteps coming up behind me, and the rustle of his jacket as he reaches a hand toward the small of my back. I feel the gentle pressure of his hand as he falls into step beside me. A nervous tension begins in the pit of my stomach and starts billowing out from there.
Get a grip, Geri, I scold myself. It’s my chance to apologize and set the record straight, and I don’t want to lose the opportunity because I’m too tongue-tied.
“I’m really sorry,” I say, breaking the damnable silence between us. We stop by the side of the SUV, but Sean makes no move to open the door. “It was um, noble of you not to take me up on my, uh, offer that night at the lodge,” I say with considerable humility, hoping he gets my drift without having to spell it out. “And I shouldn’t have gotten angry and accused you of being involved in Lisa’s disappearance. That was really low and immature.”
The smirk is back on his face, and it’s maddening. “Go on,” he says, as though he’s enjoying this.
I breathe out a sigh, fighting the urge to say just forget it and stomp back inside. That would be juvenile, and I’m turning over a new leaf. No more trying to bulldoze my way to what I want. I’ve finally figured out that I only get out of life what I put into it. “I just hope that I didn’t ruin things between us because I’d hate to lose my other big brother.”
He steps closer to me and puts a hand on either side of my face, his thumbs gently caressing the sensitive skin close to the corners of my eyes. My heart starts pounding, and my hands shake because I think he’s going to kiss me.
“I just have one thing to say, Geri.” He pauses, his eyes looking intently into mine. My lips are parted, waiting in anticipation. “Pleiadian.”
His eyes lose their dreamy quality, and he stares hard at me, his thumbs no longer moving.
“Pleiadian?” I ask. He nods. “Is that a punch line, Eastman? Because if it is, I missed the joke.”
“Pleiadian,” he says again, starting to look worried.
“Am I supposed to know what that word means?” I think this is getting a little weird. It’s right up there with the name Kasnid, or however the hell he pronounced it. Karl was easier to say, and... what the fuck?
Every square inch of me erupts into gooseflesh as memories come spilling out of a part of my brain I didn’t know existed. They stumble over each other, elbowing their way to take center stage, and it all comes back to me in dizzying clarity. Everything. The Saurian, the Pleiadians, the EUC, the Migoi, my night of lovemaking with Sean.
“Holy shit.” I’ve been staring sightlessly into Sean’s eyes as the memories flood back, and I focus in on him again. “Karl. How is Karl? Is he alive?”
Sean smiles, closes his eyes, and rests his forehead against mine. “Yeah. He’s going to be okay.” He opens his eyes to look into mine. “And so are you.”
“The EUC? Am I off the hook?” Then another memory pokes at me, demanding my attention. “Wait a minute,” I say in a blunt tone, taking a step back from him and grabbing his hands away from my face. “I woke up chained to a wall with a psychotic Neanderthal threatening me.”
He straightens up and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry about that, but, ah, we had to come up with a plausible scenario to return you and Lisa and shut down the Bigfoot frenzy.”
I glare at him and smack him in the arm. “And you stood there, listening to me apologize for nearly having sex with you—actually goading me on—when you knew all along that you’d chained me to a wall and left me there?” I smack him again.
“Okay, I’m sorry. Take it easy.” He catches my hand before I can land another blow. “I actually had this whole groveling scene planned out, the flowers are in the truck, but then you started apologizing and you looked so darn cute.”
I wrench my wrist out of his hand. “It’s going to take more than flowers, Eastman.”
“How about a job offer?” he asks.
My mind flashes back to our night together on the spacelab, lying naked in each other’s arms in Sean’s childhood bed. “You mean the Pleiadians are actually going to offer me the job?”
He tilts his head back and forth. “It’s not quite what we expected. Mary and Joe Ross will be retiring in a year or two, and the Pleiadians are asking us to replace them, to help with the hybrid program. And if you happen to take a pen name and do some social media for them as well, that would be a secret bonus.”
“Me?” I point to myself. “I don’t know anything about the hybrid program.”
“But you do know about it, which makes you the most qualified person on Earth for the job.”
He has a point. “Okay, but I don’t know anything about running a lodge.”
He takes my hands in his. “Neither do I.” He swallows hard. “But I think it will be fun to learn together. What do you say?”
It takes a few seconds for the gravity of his words to sink in. “You mean...” I trail off, not wanting to be the one to say it, having finally learned my lesson after the shed and near-sex incidences.
“You and me, together. Marriage, kids—” he pauses at my look of alarm and rushes to say “—or whatever you want. It’s too late to ask you if you want to be part of my crazy world because it’s already been thrust on you. No matter what decision you make, the EUC is a wild card that will remain a threat, but they won’t dare to touch you if you’re working for the Pleiadians.”
“Right.” I focus more on what he didn’t say than what he did. “So this is one big, inclusive job offer.”
His face goes blank as his eyes search mine. “What? I’m talking about a life tog—” He stops midsentence, and a light bulb seems to turn on somewhere. “I screwed that up.” He holds up his index finger, motioning me to wait for one second.
He unlocks the SUV, opens the driver’s door, and half of him disappears inside. He emerges a few seconds later with a bouquet of red roses. He shuts the car door and holds his hand out to me. “Would you mind joining me?”
I take his hand, intrigued. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He leads me around the house toward the backyard. “It’s a beautiful night,” he says conversationally.
“It is.” I look up at the stars, wondering where he’s taking me.
He leads me behind the shed. “A good night for a fire.”
I can’t suppress my smile. “Oh my God.” I put a hand over my crimson face.
He gets down on one knee, my hand still gripped in his, and he offers up the flowers. “Geri McKenna, I’ve loved you since you kissed me here in this very spot eight years ago, and you would make me the happiest hybrid on Earth if you married me. Or live with me if you don’t want to get married. I’ll just need some time to prepare myself to tell your dad I want to live with his daughter without putting a ring on her finger.”
I’m looking into his eyes, and I see it—I know he loves me. I felt it when we made love. And all I have to do is say yes, and I could have it all. I would finally become a hard-hitting reporter, armed with knowledge guaranteed to change the world, married to the man I’ve been in love with since I was fifteen, sharing a life of intrigue and adventure.
I get down on my knees, set the flowers aside, and hold both of his hands. “What about your work at MIT? You can’t give that up.”
He shrugs. “We can divide our time between the lodge and Boston if that’s okay with you. Our first year at the lodge will be learning the ropes from Mary and Joe, which gives me plenty of time to find a university lab closer to home.”
“Home,” I repeat, thinking that it’s been a while since I had one of those. My cramped apartment in New York City with transient roommates has felt more like a boarding house.
“Our home,” Sean says. “Will you marry me and give me a legitimate last name?”
Then it happens. Everything clicks into place. I finally understand what my dad has been telling me all these years, because my head and my heart are finally in sync.
“Yes,” I say.
Then I kiss him behind the back of the shed and feel the earth start to shake.
The End