Goldilocks Forever

Chapter 65

Walton, New York

March 2043

Beau's alarm chirped from inside his coat pocket. Toby stopped speaking and looked in the noise's direction.

"Sorry." Beau checked his phone. A notification from the medical injection device warned him his oxygen levels were dropping. A message from Parker quickly followed: U better b in bed!!! Dispensing another dose now...

"You okay?"

Beau nodded as he laid back against the pillows on the couch. He typed a message to Parker. I'm lying down. Feel okay. But he felt tired, so tired. Weak.

"You need anything?"

Beau's head buzzed. "No. I'll be fine in a few minutes." He closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders so his head fell back against the pillow.

Toby went into the kitchen and poured two mugs of tea. He handed one to Beau. "Sip on that."

Under Toby's watchful eye, he obeyed and drank the slightly sweet, slightly acrid brew. It warmed his belly comfortingly.

Toby guzzled his tea and then reclined into the chair again. His forehead creased as he looked at Beau. "What'd your doctor say?"

Beau hesitated. He could lie. "He said I should be in bed."

Toby frowned. "Maybe we should take a break for a while. You can crash in my room. Get a good sleep in. I have some work to do, anyway."

"No. I mean, I'm fine, but if you need to work..."

"Well, I don't need to work. I should work, but should and need are two different things, right?" He smirked.

Beau returned the expression. "You've been here ever since, huh?"

"Thirty years now."

"Don't you get lonely?"

Toby opened his mouth, but then shut it and nodded. "I miss her."

Beau was too tired, too consumed with feeling for his cousin to make more demands on him. He'd assumed all along that Toby wanted to talk about Anna, that he enjoyed it. Now he reconsidered. Perhaps discussing her brought back too many unpleasant memories. He looked at Toby, tried to read his eyes, the movements of his mouth. His feet tapped against the coffee table as usual.

But no, there was more. Toby chewed on his fingernails and drummed the fingers of his other hand against the armrest of the chair. His eyes darted to the window, the computer, the monitor on the wall.

When the alarm went off, he didn't move. He made no startled jump and didn't even look at the computer, the source of the noise. He turned toward the door.

"Trouble?" Beau said. He didn't have the energy to be alert, to defend himself or Toby. He was a passive passenger on whatever ride Toby was about to take him on now.

Toby kept his eyes on the door. "Let me do all the talking."

They watched and listened as a key turned in the lock. The knob turned slowly, silently. The only sound was the crackling of fire in the woodstove and his breathing—it echoed in his head, amplified. They waited.

"Don't make any sudden movements," Toby whispered.

The door flew open, and a woman kicked her way into the cabin. She stood in the entryway, a gun raised in her hands. "Toby?"

Beau stared without moving from his supine position on the couch. She looked unassuming enough in blue jeans and a thick winter jacket. Her hair hung in long blonde waves and her hands around the gun were gloved, her cheeks pink from the cold.