Lost in La La Land(38)

I opened my eyes to see him blushing. “Forgive me for being so forward, Miss Jane.” He swallowed hard again and offered his arm. “It won’t happen again.”

“That would be disappointing,” I whispered, noting the heat in my own cheeks.

“You are remarkably strange.” He chuckled, squeezing my arm.

“You know that isn’t a compliment, right?”

“I mean it in the most complimentary way possible.” He bent and kissed my cheek once before we walked from the garden.





Chapter Seventeen


“So then I told Mary that if she spent more time taking a turn about the garden and less time popping sweets into her mouth she might actually be able to keep up with her kids.”

Lana’s eyes widened as she took another chip from the bowl. “You didn't. About time someone told her off.”

“I wouldn't normally say anything about the amount someone eats, but she complains so much. I tire of it and her.” I sighed and ate a chip with dip, being the pillar of virtue I clearly was.

“Has Anne arrived yet?”

“No. They think she might come in the next couple of days. She said a fortnight, but I suspect she’ll want to get to Wentworth faster. She still loves him.”

“But he loves you.” She brushed her foot against my leg.

“Maybe. How is motherhood?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Wonderful. The labor was awful, as I imagined it would be. But Celeste is beautiful and sweet. She sleeps like an angel and I swear she smiles at me. The doctor says no, says it can’t be a smile yet. Just gas. But I know my baby. It’s a smile.” Her eyes lit up.

“How does Danny love it?”

“He’s amazing. I don't know what I ever did to deserve him.” She gushed. “I wish you could meet him. You would get along so well.” She grabbed another chip and my brain did its usual what if.

I sat back, pausing in thought.

“Shall I go first or you?” She remarked, not realizing she had spurned an idea in my mind.

“Emma, you or me? Who’s first?”

I blinked. “You.” My story could wait and it would give me time to think.

We went upstairs and I hooked her in, setting it for ten hours. We were able to go that long now. It was our full night’s rest.

As Lana drifted off to sleep, I contemplated everything Marguerite had said and what we needed to do to fix up the house.

I’d gone over several contractors’ business sites, choosing a few to have a meeting with.

I also considered having someone who would be here while we were in the machine. As it was, we only spent a few hours together per day, as each person was in for ten hours. It was like a married couple working shift work opposite each other. But if we had a helper who could put us in and monitor us, we could go in at the same time, a night shift. And then we could live and go on during the day, like normal people. Not to mention, the added bonus of going into each other’s worlds.

The outside world, apart from our helper, wouldn't know how we spent each night. How we left this world for another, exploring and creating it together.

I combed through the résumés we’d received, unsure of exactly what kind of qualifications I was looking for. What exactly did this caretaker need?

One stood out.

Her face and eyes reminded me of Mrs. Humboldt at Wentworth’s. She had a soft look to her, but maybe also that little bit of extra sass we needed in our lives. She would ensure the garbage never got piled up again and that we didn't spend all day lying about.

I opened my email and sent her a reply.

The pay would be over the top and the compensation would be worth what she’d be doing, working night shifts, and a nondisclosure order was a lot to ask of anyone. Being a retired nurse in search of a job, she was perfect. She could administer the needles. She could see to us both nutritionally. And most importantly, she could understand the equipment.

It was a lot of trust to place in another person, but if Lana and I were ever going to be able to enter each other’s worlds, we would need to be under at the same time.

The technology was there already. I’d used it years ago when sending family members and loved ones into the minds of coma patients and such.

It was going to work. Quite easily if we had a caretaker.

But first we had to fix up the old house.

We couldn't ever have a caretaker come to us in the house as it was.

No, we would fix the house up first and then get the caretaker to watch us sleep each night.

And if Marshall or Marguerite or Stanley or our parents ever showed up, we would be ready for them. We would be ready to defend ourselves. Not only would we be awake and revived during the day, but also the house would be tidy. Marguerite’s stories of garbage and ruin would be seen as lies. Thinking her name nearly made me ache for my friend. Not just to have her friendship back but also for her understanding. I wished she could have gone into the machine so she would get it. But she was never a reader, hated fiction actually.

And now she had said we were over. I had to let that be the case.

We had the house in a not bad spot right now. Three days of cleaning teams had come in and junked out the house. We told them bad tenants were to blame. To which they’d replied that of course they’d heard of the witches who lived here.