A Tiroir is a Drawer

"If your vision changes, will you tell me?"

I realized she was believing me, sort of, hesitantly. I replied honestly and fast, "Of course! I zero incentive to lie if the vision changes, that'd be stupid... Self-defeating."

"Yeah." She considered me, and said, "You've always been really formal with me, Kev. Now, you're... going way too far, really opposite. Marriage? Why would we need to do that?"

It was my turn to laugh, "Marrying you?" I kept chuckling. "Yeah. That's the definite way to cheat the system, Jane. Marry them, then they'll just _Have_ to sleep with you."

She laughed, too, and said, "There are other options. Still... Why did you give me that line downstairs?"

"I had to get you upstairs. I do know some things. I'm a geek. I know how to spot a good line from a movie. Just like I know how to kiss a girl... in ... all the right places. From an academic point of view, of course."

She ignored that last part and I didn't blame her. It was a reasonable attempt. Instead, she asked, "What movie is that pickup line from?"

"Dunno, I wrote it down a long time ago." I shrugged. For the romantic line, I'd made up the line on the spot, and my brain filled in the rest. I continued, "The 'throw away the room' one is about a kid making a nuclear bomb."

She stood up but stayed there, obviously way too much on her mind.

I stood up facing her. "One question, Jane."

"Yeah?"

"If, and I say IF, I decide to ask you... to ... propose, do you have any... requests, about how I do that? Anything special?"

Her mouth dropped open again, and she inhaled, looking into my eyes, and I saw tears start to form. She blinked, suddenly, and exhaled in a fast pant, looking down and sideways, then back up at me. "I ... no, nothing... just... the normal way? That's a negotiation..."

She was right, to a point, there was a lot to talk about before we got that far.

I was crying, then, and I realized it. I said with mock disgust, still half-smiling, "Great. Now I have to go downstairs and pretend I wasn't crying."

"Powder room is there. Rinse your face, looks better. Tell them ..."

She was obviously trying to think of what to say.

I waved her off, "I'll get it. I'll be fine, I'll just beg off and say I'm tired. True enough. Had a good run this morning, I could be 'tired' from that."

She stepped in and gave me a hug. "If you're lying, Kevin, I will gut you."

I looked at her and nodded at the reality of that, "I don't doubt it, I know you. And, I would deserve it, but I'm not. We'll see, though."

We broke the hug, and I stepped towards the stairs. Looking back at Jane, I whispered, "I have to tell Amy, too... sooner would be better, or she won't believe me later when things happen."

Jane's acceptance of this seemed to be complex, like she was looking at it from different angles. Girls did that. I knew that from talking with my ex wife, in The Before.

Stepping down two steps to see them, I ducked to look. "Guys? Not feeling great, gonna head home. Amy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stop by on Saturday afternoon? I'm horrible with colors and I don't want my mother picking what colors I paint my room."

My question was an inspiration. I knew I had to be alone with her the same way as with Jane.

Amy shouted up, "Sure!"

"About 3? That work for you?"

"Sounds good! Feel better!"

"Just tired from running a long way this morning, catching up with me. See ya. Thanks for hosting, Rich!"

Coming back into the kitchen, Jane was waiting. She gave me a hug and a kiss on my cheek. "You never said anything before."

"No vision of this, before. Kind of put a rush on things."

Her cheek was soft and slightly damp. I felt her head pull on mine, like we were connected, but I realized I had to go.

We said goodbyes and I left, walking home

My plan was coming together.

Slightly differently than I thought, but still mostly on track.

Walking home, I realized how different my body felt from the way I used to be, so much lacking in flexibility and strength, my body was SOOO much more powerful than I had been.

Stopping there on the quiet and snow-covered sidewalk, the suburban street empty of traffic and few porch lights on since it was past 11 on a weeknight, I looked around and was struck, again, at how different this world was from the one I'd just left. On the surface, yeah, same trees, same houses, same kinds of people.

Under that, though, American culture had changed so much in 40 years! Parts were almost unrecognizable! Flirting with racist fascism, we managed to get past pandemics and global warming challenges, only to find ourselves under the thumbs of a set of public and private AGGI supercomputers that could make wishes come true, for a price.

That price in my case had been a considerable fortune, which of course was irrelevant because I'd left that reality.

For the new me, I wanted a do-over, with lessons learned in a long life coming with me.

I'd missed out on huge things due to my devotion to working so hard on so many irrelevant things.

I'd missed out on love.

I'd had some love, sure, but not the kind I wanted. I wanted LOTS of sex. Sex was fun and great and by the time I had any, I'd gotten too old to spend all night making love. Much past your 20's, staying up all night even for sex wasn't entirely an appealing choice.

Here, I was young again! My body was fully developed, at least as far as I could be, and my brain was that of a guy in my 60's, so I was definitely mature enough.

I could date Jane, even though she was older. I could even marry Jane, if I wanted to, and I was pretty sure I wanted to, presuming she was anything like she was in my reality.

I wasn't afraid of marrying Jane. I already loved Jane. I had loved Jane my whole life.

I even went to her funeral, and met her schmuck of a husband.

This time, THIS TIME, things would be Different.

Bending down, I did some stretches, kissing one knee then the other, then turning to do standing-splits one direction and the other. I wasn't going to run or anything, it's just the feeling of strong muscles responding to my movements gave me such a feeling of power.

Walking on, I thought about what my life would be like going forward. I could do so much good in the world, but it would be useless without a degree. The problem was, I was signed up for classes and I would have a huge learning curve to pick up algebra again, much less pass trigonometry. Going into this, I knew I'd have that challenge, but Morgg said I'd pick it up quickly.

My expertise had been in coding - writing software - using languages that hadn't been invented yet in this reality, running on a Finnish operating system that was 15 years off, using software libraries that hadn't been built either, for an internet that didn't exist, tracked by Agile development methods that no one had invented, either.

I had Zero skills in the subjects I was studying in high school!

In fact, the ME person I had displaced had to have been FAR more skilled at math than I was, and likewise with my chemistry. I'd have to work exponentially harder, climbing the S curve from nearly nothing to catch up with my classes.

Having ADHD, I knew some things about myself that still applied, that I had NO idea about when I had first been a sophomore. I had study skills. I knew coping strategies. I had a goal in mind and could work towards that.

I even knew which amphetamine-variant drugs could counteract my ADHD and let me calm down and focus on one topic for long enough to get my homework done. Of course, it presumed I was ADHD in this reality - Morgg might have fixed that, there wasn't time to ask.

Plus, I had more goals than the classes I was taking. I was going to bring the world to a safer place than we'd been in when I left - maybe with fewer pandemics, maybe with less of the Amazon burned and turned to desert, maybe with edible fish still in the sea.

When I got home, I couldn't do anything about moving into my new room for fear of waking the house, so I cracked open my first Algebra book (found on a shelf) and started working problems at the end of chapter one.

ALL of the problems.

I had to be right, and fast. I had to be ALWAYS right, Never wrong, fast and confident on every problem. Once I had that, like I'd been later in my career with the tech I used then, I could move on to the next topic, building on a solid pyramid. I was practicing piano scales, with a math textbook.

Eventually, I slept.

== Chapter: Friday ==

I'd moved my alarm to 8 am. Six hours of sleep - not enough, but I had work to do.

Out to run, then back and working on the garage again, clearing the last bits out, last nails removed, down to studs even for the ceiling. Considering my options, I looked at the work remaining and it wasn't so bad. I'd have to pull new romex, but that was simple.

I knew things. I was an engineer. First rule of houses is, always put in more power outlets than you think you'll need.

The garage looked odd without a garage door opener. I wondered if they were expensive, but I remembered having one from pretty early on.

This house was a mess. Like my life before, it was full of half-done things, stuff that could be fixed but would take a lot of time, and I Just Didn't Have the Patience.

Wasn't that always the case?

I spent most of the day finalizing the garage, pulling wire up from the main panel, through a sill plate and up to the right stud-bays... and then just getting tired, showering, and working on Chemistry and algebra.

Reading the history of the chemistry, it seemed like some of the timeline details diverged about world war 2 timeframe, but there were some words that didn't make sense, too.

I needed more clues.

Wondering what classes I'd supposedly taken previously, I searched my room for more clues.

I'd always been mostly organized, though by the look of the desk I'd put off getting ready for the next semester until the last minute. That was Entirely Typical. Procrastination is a hallmark of ADHD folks.

My previous year's assignment notebooks were on a high bookshelf, all from the same company and lined up in a row. They went way back - this was a boon, and if I hadn't moved the sci fi novels, I'd have missed them.

The previous years (1985, 84, 83, etc.) were 11th, 10, and 9th grades... uh... whut?!?

I was in 13th grade, as a... sophomore?

What the fuck was happening?

I opened my notebook and started reading. The grade-'12T-4' and grade-'12T-5' had me doing half schoolwork and half intense workouts and yoga conditioning. It looked like at least four hours of the school day were dedicated to gym, sport, stretching, and conditioning, and only the rest to schoolwork.

So... how old was I?

My wallet was in my other pants, I got it out and checked for a driver's license.

I did the math... I was... Almost 19!?!?!?? What!?!? I'd been aiming for 16! I'd said, halfway - through - sophomore -year!

Instead, I'd turned 18 in the 11th grade, and Sophomore year was technically 12th grade by their counting? Odd! Fair, but odd. If I had spent so much time working out, no wonder school took longer.

That would mean, Jane was 2 years older, she was 21 or 22? She didn't look it. She looked younger, like me. I didn't look 19, in the mirror, but then again, it'd been such a long time since I was that age, I couldn't count on my memory to give me good estimation skills.

I had to figure this out. Was I screwed?

Technically, Morgg had put me in the correct spot - it was halfway through sophomore year. That's what I'd asked for.

The dynamics in this high school would be different - REALLY different.

If everyone was 18 or 19 years old as a sophomore, and it was a 3 year senior high, then...

EVERY SINGLE GIRL WAS ELIGIBLE. Everyone in the building.

This was Interesting. Was Morgg trying to help me get laid after all?

Something was very different about this world. I had a lot of reading to do, and a lot of WTF to ask about how things could be ... this way?

Woooooowww.

I read and read, until I crashed and fell into bed exhausted.

== Chapter: Saturday Morning ==

Saturday morning I went out for an early run, before 7. I had awoken early and went with it. Favoring a relaxed pace but a longer route, I let my age and wisdom inform me - overdoing it was the downfall of any exercise program.

Fighting this idea was a strong innate desire to Go Faster, but I kept a reasonable pace, at least as far as breathing hard counted for it. My legs made quick work of distances I hadn't covered that way in Nearly Forever. I loved it!

Choosing to not-shower after my run (I was going to get dirty all day), I started cleaning my new over-garage room, moving boxes and stuff to the basement.

Mom reviewed my progress and decided we needed basement shelving, and fretted about the cost of that until I said I could make some with 2x4's. I spec'd out what I needed, she went off and got some of these super-cheap materials. If I disregarded aesthetics, the results were pretty (functionally) sweet.

Egads, I was tired, and Amy was due any minute.

By the time Amy got there, I had ducked into the shower and came out refreshed. I thought about having a coffee to pick-me-up, but I didn't even know if I was going to be able to sneak it past my mother. Generally when I was growing up she held that coffee was not for kids.

Amy came upstairs when I was tying my shoes. She had 'just come in' rights to our house for forever, though I didn't quite do that at her house since she was a girl.

Different rules applied for girls and guys.

She helped me carry some more boxes to the basement and arrange them, as well as some larger items like an antique steamer trunk that I didn't think I could carry by myself anyway. Dad was off at some business meeting - sometimes he had to work weekends even in this world, and my mom had some AAUW thing that she went to sometimes.

We were in the house alone.

Amy was working up a sweat, I could tell, tromping up and down the stairs, and her habit of overdressing was wearing on her.

After some number of trips, she pulled off all but one t-shirt and I was treated to the exact reason why she covered up. Or, at least as close a reason as I could get, given the t-shirt and bra that held a formidable presence.

I looked at her as she took off the shirt, but then moved my eyes away quickly.

Starting the conversation, she asked what I had to talk with Jane about.

I had a choice. I could fill her in, or I could wait. I decided that waiting was dangerous, I didn't know if, in this multiverse, the two events I was citing really happened in 1986, or if it was coming or not going to happen at all.

Being casual, I said, "I had to tell Jane about some dreams I had. Premonitions."

"That sounds ominous."

"Yeah, well, it was odd, so I told her. I don't want it to be spread around, so I had to get her to promise secrecy. Same would apply to you. Really, ever. Can I have..."

I waited until we were done with a trip, and I stopped her. We were in my basement. "I need something from you, a solemn promise. Can you do that?"

"Uh... I guess? Maybe?"

"To keep a secret. Forever, if need be. Until I say it's okay to tell."

She got concerned. I didn't remember talking with her like this, probably ever. We were friends, but I didn't have many secrets, I wasn't that kind of guy. She said, with some deliberation, "Okay. I agree. Secret, between us, only."

I told her the same story I'd told Jane, but said that if she wanted to talk it over with Jane, she could, but that's it, just her and me.

When I told her that Jane and I would be married, but that she, Amy, would be married to us, too, to both of us, her eyes got wide and she half-smiled, like this was a joke.

I said, "No Joke. You and I have kids, in this vision, too. Lots of kids, first toddlers, running amuck and knocking things over. You're a nanny for our first kid - Jane's and mine - I think - but that part faded, I don't remember that exactly. There are at least two other women there, too, in the house with us, but I don't know what that's about. I didn't mention it to Jane, it was a bit much to talk about at once."

"Can I tell her about that part, too?"

"Yes, with my apologies, I didn't mean to leave it out, it... I should be completely open about this, it's just toooooo odd."

I was talking out of my ass, of course, I'd made this whole thing up. But it was a great cover story.

Amy's face was confused. "You want me... as ... a ... wife? One of... four?"

I shook my head, "I'm telling you what was in my vision. I care about you, Amy, I'm not going to hold back on something this important. Plus, you'll know if I'm full of shit in about 3 weeks."

She nodded, "the 'space shuttle', got it." Her voice was like she'd never said that before, which seemed odd but I went past it.

"Premonitions are sometimes way off, with timing. One time, I thought something was going to happen really fast, it ended up taking over a year."

"What?"

"Bicycle. New bike. I had a set of visions about that, but the visions kept changing. I didn't know when it was going to happen. Finally did. Color was different in each vision, until I just ignored the color. Same style, though. It's in the garage now, or it would be if I hadn't put it under a tarp in the backyard."

I motioned for us to go upstairs again, and we did, carrying down boxes, until time came to go to the paint store. She had her mom's car, so we drove that.

I didn't say anything but her car was an ancient shitbox.

We picked out paint - pretty bland stuff, it's what I wanted, white primer and semi-gloss for the trim, then a gray for the walls that wouldn't offend anyone, least of all my Asperger-tainted senses. I wasn't bad off, by my former-life's therapists' estimation, but I'd found strong sensations (colors, flavors, smells, sounds) stressed me out.

On the way home, Amy dropped a bombshell. It was almost casual, but I could tell something was up.

We were going home, she was driving. She said, "Get in my purse. Find the brown wallet."

I picked up her purse and looked in it, a green canvas thing that didn't need much looking to find her checkbook-wallet combo.

"Yeah?"

She was really nervous, but she said, evenly, "Find my driver's license. Look at it."

"Uh... Okay?" I found it quickly and got it out.

It was a not-flattering picture. No one's DMV pictures were flattering, no matter what universe you're in.

Looking down the front of it, it had her eye color, hair, address... and ...birth date?

I got a big surprise. "You're... 20? I thought you were the same age as me."

"Yeah, not really the same. I was in a car accident in 2nd grade, and then I got sick. I only have one lung, and had a huge scar on my back and chest - they've faded now, but for a while they were wicked-looking. The thing was, I had to be out of school for over a year, and then just started 3rd grade as if I was a new student. Nobody knew me, my friends had moved on to the new grades, and the next year, my parents moved here, so no one knew at all."

"Why keep it a secret?"

She chuckled, "Have you met people?"

"Older isn't bad." I was older than she knew, for Damn Sure.

She shrugged slightly but kept her opinion. "Older is fine, I guess, when everyone isn't in school. I know some real bitches. It's hard enough to be in gym class with them."

"That's why you wear four shirts all the time?"

"I wear four shirts because I have big boobs and it gets me teased."

Smiling, I stared ahead at the road, "You're probably right, I know. But, I like them."

"Hrm, yeah, I guess, but again, you're not most people."

Considering it for a moment myself, I said, "Amy, you're ... beautiful. Yes, I do like your boobs. Sure, I want to see them, play with them, kiss them, nuzzle, lick, all that. But I like the rest of you, too."