Julia

I rummaged around in my purse for the house keys while Danny stood behind me with his hands in his coat pockets, his brooding lips pressed in a tight line.  Poor fella. He never did like the sound of the word "no." 

I opened the front door of our small but comfortable Jersey home, and we were instantly greeted with Farnsworth's raspy squawk from the corner of the living room.  "Good news, everyone!"

"Hi, Farnsie," I called.  Any time someone opened the front door, that's what that bird would say, rather like a security alarm with feathers. 

In the laundry room Fry started barking and whining to be let out, which Danny took care of.  Like a frankfurter-shaped rocket, the dog careened into the kitchen and jumped up onto my legs and then Danny's, making sure we knew he was already hungry for supper.  (Danny had named Fry; he thought it would be funny to have two animals named after characters in the same show.)

"I'm going to start a quick dinner for us, if you could please feed the dog while I'm doing that," I said.

"Yes, ma'am," he grumbled, letting Fry outside into the backyard.

I looked at him.  "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

But I knew better than to believe that.  "Danny, what's so bad about Cousin Roxie coming over to babysit you?  Only last week, you were beside yourself about how much fun you had when you were playing together on the Sega Genesis."

My Cousin Roxie was a character, a psychology major-turned- boutique owner. She had been married on at least five occasions, though currently she was enjoying her time as an unchained divorcee and part-time chauffeur for Danny.  She was forever lost in the 1980s- she still wore her gray-blonde hair in a Sheena Easton cut, and dressed in mom jeans and loose-fitting sweaters, even though she was turning sixty-six next April- she was a sucker for anything by Ronnie Milsap or Glen Campbell, and she rode a vintage 1984 Suzuki Katana motorcycle, which Danny absolutely adored.

Life is funny.  All throughout childhood, I'd never known anything much about my Brooklyn-born cousin, Roxie, save that as a young woman that she had disgraced the Brazzis, my mother's very old-school Italian family, with some wrong apparently so unspeakable it was enough to get her practically disowned. 

But as soon as word circulated that I had become pregnant and I wasn't married, I too became a bit of a black sheep.  Not, of course, to the point of Roxie's shame, as my parents and I had fully reconciled a long time back- but in me she spied a possible new friend, an actual blood relation who understood.  And so, three years ago, when Danny and I moved to New Jersey for my new job at Princeton, she reached out to us- and we had been tight ever since.

He sighed.  "I don't like how she talks to me."

"How does she talk to you?"

"Like I'm four."

I tried not to smile.  "Danny, you say the exact same thing about Stuart."

"Not really.  He treats me like I'm five.  And five is better than four, so..."

I sighed.  Ah, the logic of a nine-year-old.  "Danny, I won't be gone that long.  The talk should only last about an hour and a half, at most.  And it's probably going to be about boring stuff anyway.  I bet you'd fall asleep halfway through."

Danny folded his arms and planted his feet, eyes sparkling with defiance.  "I bet I wouldn't."

"I bet you would."

"Wouldn't." 

"Would!"  I broke into a grin.

"Wouldn't!"

"WOULD!"  With that I sprang at him, hands outstretched.  He squealed and tried to run, but I was too fast.  I tackled him to the floor, fingernails digging into his ribs while he laughed his high, hearty laugh.  There was more than one way to get that boy out of a funk- and I knew them all.

About a minute later, when we stopped acting like complete idiots, Danny sat up, still giggling, and asked, "So- now can I come?"

I squinted at him.  "Really?"

"Oh, okay," he sighed.  "If I have to stay, can I - I mean, may I please watch Bill and Ted tonight?"

"Absolutely," I said, dusting off my hands.  "You know, in all honesty, Danny, I'd much rather stay home with you, pop some popcorn, and watch a silly time-travel movie than go to this lecture thing, but Stuart wants me there, so I really ought to go.  Sort of be his support, you know?"

"Yeah," he muttered.  Fry started scratching at the door; Danny rose to let him in and feed him.

Bill and Ted, I chuckled to myself, then stood and reached for my phone on the kitchen table.  They actually got the time loops and the whole fixed-history universe thing right.  Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.

I had one received text, which was a response from K.  "Hope he does!  Long time no see," it said cheerfully- very cheerfully, in fact, it even featured a winking emoji. 

I frowned, realizing I was in a bit of a spot now.  For Danny, K was the closest thing he'd ever met to a mad scientist- and K was actually quite mellow, but to Danny, anyone with a white coat and "Dr." as their prefix deserved some extra respect.  And for K, Danny was the living proof that T-Rod had worked- and then some.

For those of you who don't know, I'll get into T-Rod a bit later. 

"K seems to want to see-"  I started to say, then cut myself off.  But it was too late.

Danny looked up from the can of dog food.  "K?  Dr. K's gonna be there?"

"Yup," I nodded.  "But hopefully, C won't put in an appearance-"

"K's gonna be there and I can't go?  Oh, Mom!  Please can't I come along?"

"I thought you wanted to watch Bill and-"

"But K's cool!  He shows me all kinds of stuff, and- and I watched Bill and Ted last week anyway!  Please?"

Now I was weakening, for now I had Stuart's very own colleague, and a very good friend of mine at that, asking me to bring the boy.  "Well- Danny, I don't think- look-"

Then Danny played his trump card.  He took off his glasses, blinked pleadingly at me.  "Please, Mom?"

I looked into those naked, wide eyes of his. God. What dead giveaways. Those hooded, liquid dark brown eyes that just barely sloped upwards at the outer corners, bordered by those thick, black lashes, set under less arched versions of my own brows. 

How he had figured out how fragile the sight of him without his spectacles made me, I couldn't say.  He didn't know why it worked, but he at least knew that it did, somehow- and that was something he never failed to do upon detecting a chink in my armor.  That boy was so smart- too smart, in some ways, especially for a nine-year-old. 

With a deep, heavy sigh, I told him, "Okay, look, if I take you, you have to promise me you won't talk about how bored you are by the talk-"

"I won't!" he shook his head vigorously.

"And you can't sit there and keep on asking me if we can go, you're going to sit there quiet as a mouse and be respectful.  Promise me that's what you'll do, because if you don't, you're not coming to any more of these and-"

" I promise, I promise!" he said.

"Then... I guess you can come along-"

"YES!" Danny cried, pumping his fist.  "Can't wait to see all the science stuff!"

"Danny, I wouldn't count on a grand tour, K's not there to look after you-"

"Oh, but he's gonna.  He always does.  Maybe he'll show me the secret lab!"

"Danny-"

"Poetry in mo-tion!" Danny sang loudly, putting Fry's food bowl down and skipping to his room.  "When she turned her eyes to me-/ As deep as any o-cean/ and sweet as a-ny har-mo-ny/ She blinded me with sci-ence BOOP BOOP BOOP BO-" And then he shut the door, still singing to himself in that boyish soprano.

I laughed, rubbing my eyes.  "What a little kook." 

And the thoughts flew, coming a little too naturally, Good grief.  He's Freddie in miniature.

My smile froze, as well as my blood.

That name.

Why did I have to think that name.

My insides pulled taut.  That was a bad sign.  I had deflected these feelings earlier in the car with Danny- but now they were moving too fast. 

This didn't happen as much as it used to- I'd become much stronger as I had matured, and put more days between me and my time with Fr- Danny's father.  But it was happening now - all because of that name.

I could feel my head start to divebomb into territory I'd very pointedly pushed aside- a place where all my sweet memories of those impossible days had been stored and locked away. I shut my eyes. The room leaned to one side as I fought to keep control.

Don't look back, I ordered myself, involuntarily entangling my fingers in my fine gold chain.  There's no point.  Don't look back.  That's all ancient history.  What matters now, is now.

After a minute or two my heart stopped racing anxiously.  My sight cleared, as did my head.  I took a deep breath.  God, that was a close one.

Over the years I had learned to will the darkness from my heart, if only temporarily.  Thanks to Danny and the Deacons (who still lived in England, but we still managed to see them once a week thanks to the miracle known as Skype), I was never completely free.  But I knew how to ward it off; I put up a shield in my own head built of firm, unshakeable realism, reminding me that what I had once was never meant to be in the first place.  Fate was not my friend, it seemed- but I was a staunch believer in it nonetheless.  After all, I had witnessed it in action firsthand.

The attack having been thwarted, I started cooking some dinner.  My mother called a few minutes later, and we had a nice little chitchat about the week, politics, Danny's upcoming Christmas program at church.  Stuart sent me a text, asking me when I planned to be there, so I gave him a rough estimate.  In all, it was a nice, routine, peaceful precursor to the evening- and therefore, all things considered, the best kind.

And in retrospect, things might have ended much more routinely, much more peacefully, that night, if I had stood my ground, and Danny stayed home watching Keanu Reeves play air guitar.  But I was a squish, and I buckled.

I am ultimately to blame, yet again, for everything that followed, from the moment Danny and I stepped out of the car in the Princeton parking lot, and onward...

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

************************************************************************************************

"Ladies first!"

This he said after he walked a little ahead of me to hold the double doors open. 

"Thank you, Danny," I laughed.  The doors of Preus Hall slowly closing behind us, we approached the man posing as a security guard, who inspected my quasi-ticket.

He looked at my son suspiciously.  "Does the kid have an invitation?"

Danny's eyes narrowed.  Quickly I cut in, tongue-in-cheek, "This is my therapy child."

"Therapy child?"

"Yes, of course," I continued, still deadpan.  "It's the latest development in procuring mental and emotional well-being, even more effective than therapy animals, some doctors say."

The security guard looked at me, and I winked back.  Then he smiled.  "Dr. Preus is expecting you two."

"Us two?  But-"

"I was just messing with you.  Take a left down that hall, there'll be an elevator a few paces down.  They're on the third floor."

I nodded and thanked him, walking as he instructed while Danny asked me what the heck was a therapy child.

"A joke, sweetie," I chuckled.  "Something Stuart called you once in fun."

Danny pushed the elevator button.  "Mom, is Dr. Preus your boyfriend or something?"

I didn't answer him immediately.  Funny, but he'd never thought to ask that before, so I honestly wasn't sure how to respond.

Only after the doors slid closed did I ask, "What brought this on?"

"'Cause you're always going to dinner with him, and doing stuff for him- I mean, are you guys dating?"

"I guess you could say that," I nodded.  "I guess- to some extent, Stuart is my boyfriend, and we are dating."

"So- you guys kiss and stuff?"

"Danny, you've seen me kiss Stuart."

"I mean, kiss like they do in the movies.  You- you guys don't do that, do you?" 

I smiled sheepishly.  "Well," I murmured, "maybe just a little..."

"Oh."  He wrinkled his nose at the very idea of his mother necking with Stuart Preus. He might have asked even more questions, but then the elevator doors slid open, and from then on, Danny was acting on his best behavior.  We made our way to the back, which was serving as a kind of greenroom for Stuart.  There were just a few people standing around, as we were rather early; I didn't see K just yet, but Stuart saw us.

"There she is!" Stuart exclaimed, coming over for a hug.  "Hi, Jules."

"Hey, Stu.  I brought Danny, hope that's all right!"

"That's great!"  Stuart put his hand down toward Danny's for a fist-bump.  "How's it going, buddy?"

Danny blinked, and fist-bumped him politely.  "It's okay.  How's are you?"

"Doing great, kiddo.  Thanks for asking!"

I could almost feel Danny's back tense up.  I don't know why, but he just hated being referred to as "pal," "kiddo," or "buddy."  Unfortunately, Stuart tended to call him all three.

"How many people are going to be here tonight?" I asked.

"Everyone that was asked to come, and then some.  Apparently a few people posted it on their socials and got their colleagues interested, so it's gonna be a full house tonight.  And they're coming from all over, too- there's this one physicist from Singapore, perhaps you've heard of her, Dr. Ma-"

"Danny Samuels, is that you?" cut in a slow, soft voice comparable to that of John Malkovich.

All three of us whirled.  And there he was, in all his five-foot-three glory, one of the two main reasons that I was even standing there in that hall alongside my dear Stuart (I still couldn't voluntarily call him "boyfriend") and my son.  My slightly off but nevertheless good friend, Dr. Steven J. Kurzweil, or better known as simply-

"Dr. K!" Danny ran up to him and gave him a big hug, wrapping around so tightly K let out a little muffled "oof."  Stuart and I chuckled.  It was so wonderful that Danny had as many good men in his life as he did.  That was such an important part of a boy's childhood.

"I swear, you were this tall last time I saw you," K exclaimed, placing the side of his hand up against the tip of Danny's nose.  "Next time you come around, you'll be tall as me."

"I hope so!" the boy said enthusiastically. 

"He's growing way too fast," I agreed.  "I try to tell him to slow it down, but he doesn't listen."

"How've you been, Julia?" K asked, patting Danny's shoulder.

"Oh, we've been all right.  It's getting so close to Christmas, and I still have so many things to take care of- not the least of which, getting you to write your letter to Santa so I can mail it in time," I added to Danny.

"Oh, yeah," he said.  "I'll do that tomorrow."

Stuart leaned over and whispered softly, "He still believes in Santa?"

I nodded.  "Why not?"

He smiled.  "Don't you think he ought to know the truth by now?"

"I'm waiting till he's ten or until he asks," I whispered back.  "Childhood is fleeting enough as it is without me urging it on out the door."

"So are you going to show me the laboratory, K?" Danny asked hopefully.  "Or wherever you guys go to do your science?"

"Danny," I reminded him, "that's not why we're here-"

"Jules, don't worry about it!  Steve, if you want to show him around, go right ahead.  This building is basically mine to do with as I like- they named it after me, for Pete's sake."

"I'd love to," K nodded.  "Just stay right with me, Danny, okay?"

"Yes, sir!"

And with my reluctant blessing, and Stuart's last-minute reminder that Danny would please not touch anything, K led him back into the elevator and pushed a lower level.  The last thing I saw was Danny waving goodbye, a little smile on his face.

The doors closed.

Stuart turned to me then and confessed, "Okay, Jules, I got some good news and some bad news."

My eyes widened.  "C's not here, is he?"

"C?"

"Dr. Timothy Christopher."  The very words sent chills through my body.  "He wasn't invited, was he?"

"Nope," Stuart said.  "That's the good news, though."

"What's the bad news?"

He cleared his throat.  "The bad news is, his boss George got word of the talk, and-"

The elevator doors opened behind us, and I heard that voice I loathed to no end.

"Well, hello, Ms. Samuels," C said.  "Never thought we'd see you again."

"Let's just say, the party was crashed," Stuart finished with a sigh.  "Science and Politics.  They just don't mix very well, do they, Tim?"

"It didn't work out so bad for Ms. Samuels," C quipped, turning to me.  "You sure had a good time at it, remember?"

I bit my tongue, and Stuart replied, "Tim, I think that was a little uncalled for."

'Maybe so," he mused.  "Sorry, Julia, if I offended you."

"No offense taken, C," I said softly.  Inwardly, I clenched my teeth and raged against him with every bad word I could think of.  C hated me almost as much as I hated him.  Almost, but not quite- and I had reason for my feelings whereas he did not.  The very fact that C was here with us tonight made me want to collect Danny, and leave that very moment- but for Stuart's sake, I kept it together, resigning myself to the situation.

Well, then I'm covered, I said to myself.  This is probably the worst that could happen here tonight, C showing up.  That's not so bad.

Famous last words.

Somehow I'd conveniently forgotten, what happened the last time a Samuels went down in an elevator, with Dr. K at their side...