Ty and Damon unloaded boxes, with Jennifer taking them into various rooms.
He paused before lifting a box from the bottom of the pile. Someone had scrawled in black marker: SAM'S STUFF.
Wordlessly, he handed the box to Damon. Ty hadn't bothered his brother for updates, because Damon's haggard face and crumpled clothes spoke volumes. When Damon had something, he would let his brother know. Ty was sure of it.
An hour later, the moving truck was empty. Ty rested on the couch, sweat running into his eyes.
"Here."
Jennifer handed him a cold glass of water.
He took it with a thanks, trying to hide the surprise in his tone. Old Jennifer would've never thought to bring him anything. She thought of herself, even when sober.
"If you want, I can get you a beer."
Ty shook his head, sipping the water. "You don't have to," he sought the word, "cater to me."
Jennifer lifted her own glass to her full lips. Then, "I'm not."
It's a test.
She wanted to see if he was going to drink on a regular basis, and perhaps on a dangerous basis. Like she (or the Old Jennifer) had done.
"It was just a bad night," he said, swirling the water around in the cup and wishing Damon would walk in and interrupt them.
"I get that. But do you notice how you manage to avoid looking at me when we talk?"
"I don't know what you mean," Ty said, looking to the side of (semi) Jennifer instead of directly at her.
She laughed, actually seeming amused. However, Ty was not trying to be funny, and he thought she knew that. With what she said next, (semi) Jennifer illustrated she was keenly aware.
"I'm gonna say this and be done with it: I don't have much time, and I want to be with my daughter." She paused, and once again, Ty willed Damon to waltz through with a box. Probably overhearing the domestic row, he stayed away.
Lucky bastard, Ty thought.
"My parents," to her credit, (semi) Jennifer didn't stumble over the phrase, even as it was odd, "are gone, and I don't have anywhere to go." She pointed at the back bedroom, what would've been Sam's room. "I'm going to sleep in there, but I'm not leaving. I want to watch my daughter grow up, because that's all I'll have. It's up to you to decide how difficult that time might be. I understand why you might feel a certain way, but this holding pattern is no way to live. So decide."
Though Ty understood most of what she said, he needed to know: "Decide what?"
"Am I a roommate, or your wife?"
The reincarnation of Jennifer raised a brow, chugged the remainder of her water much in the way Old Jennifer would've chugged a beer, and left him alone in the living room.
YOU ARE READING
Obsolution ✔
Science FictionTy, a shift manager with an alcoholic wife, creates a female replicant in a dystopia veering toward full mechanization. For Ty, the surreal drudgery of working in a retail environment is interrupted when robotic interfaces are installed at his job...