the best you can do

October 2087, Laney Thompson is 28, Ingrid and Ian Thompson are 24, Wesley Grant is 30, Odin Grant is 27, Evie Bachman is 23, Jessica Pendleton is 25.

*previously: when Ian and Ingrid got kicked out // when Laney met Andreas // where Andreas went // Jessica's disappointing birthday

Laney was finally ready to date. She had spent two prime years of her life longing for an impossibility. She had built up Andreas in her mind as her ideal, her one and only, when in reality, they were only close for a couple of months. It sounded so silly when she thought about it that way. 

So she would try to date. She'd already struck out with the local dating pool, which was full of married men and eighteen-year-old college students. No thanks. Next step, online dating.  

Laney made herself a profile and sent it out into the world. She discovered that even a moderately attractive, bumbling woman would be flooded with responses within minutes. At first she was flattered until she read some of the messages and soon became annoyed. Ranging from the mildly lame, "Damn, you fine! Hit me up girl!" to a very detailed account of what exactly some Romeo would like to slide between her milky jugs. 

Beyond that, Laney found three eligible bachelors. Ronnie messaged her first, but she thought him too forward and a bit smarmy. Darwin sounded nice, but came with a dead wife and nine-year-old daughter—Laney felt guilty for passing. Wesley was educated, well spoken, career-minded, and interesting, if maybe a little snobbish. Laney would rather deal with snobbish than vulgar. 

So she wrote back to Wesley. 

He returned her message promptly, in full, properly punctuated sentences. And it was from that mutual respect and beautiful grammar that they began a very pleasant conversation. 

Mind you, Laney was no fool. She was a detective, so she performed a thorough background check and internet search. Wesley Grant was everything that he proclaimed to be—thirty years old, a sitting state representative in the San Catalina district, college educated in Florida, never married, no children. He had one recent breakup with a girlfriend of three years, and it was relatively amicable. He had one brother—an aspiring actor—and no other local family. No arrests, no unusual debts, no red flags. And most importantly, he hadn’t yet asked her to send nudes. 

The only problem she could find was that he lived in California. A minor flaw, considering her choices. 

They both had jobs holding them halfway across the country from each other, but they continued to chat around their different schedules and time zones. He liked to travel and read, she discovered. She told him about her trip to South America—he'd never been there, but would love to see it. He’d lived in Florida and now California, and she told him about how she'd never lived anywhere but a few minutes from where she was born. Wesley mentioned that his brother’s girlfriend was from up north, too, and she made it sound so wonderful. He'd love to visit the area.  

It was decided then. He would come up north and they would meet in person. Three weeks from now. 

Laney was filled with excitement and nerves. 

 —

Feeling a new spark of hope in her future, Laney wanted to share the wealth. Her brother could use some hope more than anyone right now. 

After their parents forced them to fly the coop and find their own places, Laney took in her baby siblings. Both Ingrid and Ian were whimsical souls, but Ian was still adrift two years later. He couldn't explain what he imagined he would do with his history degree, mountains of student loan debt, and deep knowledge of very niche subjects, but Laney knew she couldn't keep buying his beer and books forever. 

He hadn't had a job in years that his father didn't give him. He lost or rejected all of his friends. He seemed to fester in this deep funk, having branded himself the failure of the family. 

The two of them tried to brainstorm his situation over drinks at the bar. It was hard to know where to start when every area of his life—career, friends, romance, self-esteem—needed a complete overhaul. But money never hurt anybody. So, first, Laney thought they should try to find him a job that he wouldn't hate. 

Meanwhile, Ingrid was doing just fine on her own, surprising everyone. She worked hard on her art and was incredibly dedicated to her craft. She went to great lengths to find the most unique supplies. It wasn't easy, but Ingrid had always been thrilled by a good chase.

—

Three weeks later, in California, Wesley had some last-minute protests to attend to before his trip up north to meet his lovely new internet friend. Wesley was a dedicated environmentalist and cared deeply about deforestation, organic foods, and reducing his carbon footprint. 


His brother, Odin, was working on a pilot episode for a campy prime time pirate drama. They were banking on the hope that viewing audiences might finally be tired of all those zombie dramas by now. Unfortunately, the pilot had not been picked up by the networks yet. 


In any case, it gave Odin some good material for his portfolio, although he worried he was being typecast as an action-flick brute. He hoped to try something more expansive some day. 


But he liked this project, and he had faith in it. He wanted to share some footage with his doting girlfriend, Evie. They watched it—or tried to—on the tiniest television he'd ever seen. He didn't even think they made them that small anymore. 


"Is that a robotic arm?" Evie asked him, squinting at the far off pixels. 

"No, it's a giant sword," he said. "Your TV is just really really small."

The two of them had been dating for four months now, and Odin spent a lot of his time here in Evie's squalid, rodent-infested bachelorette pad. Otherwise, they stayed over at his brother's place, where Odin rented a room. While they both felt the relationship was developing beautifully, it felt like a little too soon to talk about moving into their own apartment together. Perhaps he would bring up the idea after Evie graduated this spring. For now, Odin would just dream of the amazing place they would share, and how very large their television would be. 

But Evie felt it was just the right time for Odin to meet her father. Mr. Bachman came out to California to see his youngest daughter, while the rest of their family lived out east now. He worried about Evie being all alone out here, and while it soothed him to know that she'd found a companion she liked so much, he was also suspicious at how quickly they'd taken to each other.   

The two of them were far too enamored with each other to notice whether Mr. Bachman was impressed by his daughter's new beau. 

—

Three weeks later, the anticipated weekend finally arrived. Laney and Wesley arranged to meet each other in a mutually non-threatening space—a small park on the lakeshore pier. It was a chilly and windy day, but their meeting felt instantly warm. Three weeks of nerves melted away. He was even more handsome than his profile picture had suggested, but he was every bit as intelligent and serious as she'd come to know.  

They were both terrible skaters. But when he reached out to steady her as she nearly fell, it felt both protective and powerful in a way that made Laney melt inside a little. 

Yes, this was going well. She could see herself liking Wesley very much.

So she discreetly signaled to her father, whom she had asked to watch from across the park, that he could go home. All was well. This man she found on the internet did not appear to be a con artist, rapist, or murderer. 

They sat beside the water and talked for a while. Laney was happy for Wesley to visit her home state. She wanted him to know about how she loved this charming place, where her parents lived, where her siblings had come back to. Home and family was very important to her.  

Wesley, to be honest—and he was very honest with her—felt no great drive to father children of his own. He was, in fact, ethically opposed to breeding more children in a crowded and impure world. But he understood it was something people did. A kid or two wouldn't be a deal breaker, he promised. 

But three or four or five, and a couple of furbabies? Laney wondered. 

And he hoped she would at least visit California and give it a chance. Wesley was quite happy there in his city, with likeminded granola-eating, tree-hugging, politically-engaged people. 

Were they getting too far ahead of themselves? This was Laney's first date in ten years and it was going rather well, in her opinion. Better than she hoped. And they both wanted to see each other again once more before Wesley went home. 

The following night, after a short breather, just enough time to decompress, to think, to grow eager for what might come next, they went out for dinner.

He was great to talk to. They had so much in common. Wonderful, wise, Wesley. Wasn't he just great? The ever-present feeling in Laney's heart was that she should really really try to make this work. If she stood a chance with anyone, he'd probably be the one. 

Dinner and conversation was lovely. 

Then she brought him back to her place for a coffee nightcap. Neither of them favored much in the way of beer or liquor.  


And as their pleasant conversation rounded to its natural conclusion—what should come next? Laney found herself suddenly terrified about sex. The walls shrunk in on her. 

Wesley was so quietly sultry. She couldn't remember if he had been like that over the phone, but here, now, he had a confidence and swagger that she couldn't have guessed. And that was a problem, because she was the exact opposite of sultry—she was mousy and awkward. She didn't figure he'd have much patience for such a virginal twenty-eight-year-old woman. Laney wasn't a technical virgin. She had a steady boyfriend once, all the way back in high school, with all the fumbling sexual exploration of two clueless seventeen-year-olds. 

Eleven years ago. Laney hadn't had sex in over a decade. Damn! Surely she’d forgotten how to do it by now. Surely it wasn’t like riding a bike!

Wesley was as wonderful as she could hope for, but she wasn't ready for this. 

She never got around to even as much as a kiss with Andreas, despite all her longing. But in her fantasies, he would have been so sweet and tender and patient with her. She didn’t know much about men, but she knew that tender and patient was hard to come by. As well as sultry, all in one package. Oh, Andreas could be sultry in just a few words, indeed. But he probably never meant to be. 

What did he ever do to her to get her so stuck?

"Would you come walk with me by the docks?" she asked Wesley.

She was sorry for being awkward. But if he wanted to be with her, awkward would be something he'd have to get used to.  

"I feel like I need to confess something to you" she said. "I was in love with a guy for a really long time. Deeply in love. It was stupid, never going to happen. He chose his girlfriend. They had a baby together. I feel like I'm still in love with him and it's been over a year. I feel stuck. I'm sorry, I should have told you that sooner. I shouldn’t have let you come all this way."

He had a kind smile on his face, while also looking slightly sorry for her. 

"I'm not sorry I came," he said. "I wanted to meet you, and I'm glad I did. You need more time, and that's okay. I’m in no hurry. To be honest, I just ended a relationship of my own not too long ago. It would probably do us both good to take things slowly." 

He wasn’t mad. He seemed genuinely not mad, which was very gracious of him.

How nice, Laney thought. She felt better having everything out in the open now. She felt better about Wesley all around. 

They hugged and promised to see each other again soon. The weekend left her feeling warm and hopeful.  

—

Laney couldn't wait to spill all to her friend, Jamie, as the Thompson and Pendleton siblings tried to resume their friendly happy hours again. Jamie was still in shock that an internet boyfriend hadn't turned into a murder case, and she wondered if she should put up a profile of her own and see what else was out there. Hopefully Laney hadn't taken the one good single person on the entire internet.  


Jessica came along to happy hour, too. After a long day of nursery rhymes, high-pitched shouting voices, and being the glue stick and crayon police, Jessica had always loved these happy hours. A stylish dress, a splash of perfume, thoughtful adult conversation—she needed this for her sanity! 

Which was why it was a shame she and Ian had messed up their friends group so badly. Jessica should have listened to her sister.  

Ian spent the entire evening glancing over at her from his foosball game. Finally, Jessica waved for him to come over. 

"We can talk," she said. "You don't have to avoid me. In fact, I always enjoyed talking to you. That's why I thought... well, never mind what I thought. Can't we still be friends?" 


They went ahead to have some of the most boring conversation two people ever had. The weather was terrible, the bar food was decent, the music was good, and an occasional, "uh," or "sorry," or "you go ahead."  

Jessica sighed. "Do you wanna dance?"


So they danced, and they didn't talk, trying not to even look at each other. When they did, they'd offer small smiles and quickly glance away. It was maybe better than avoiding each other completely. 

But Ian had a better idea... or else, he had a completely terrible idea. He was about to find out which it was.  

"So, I know we kind of crashed and burned, huh? And I know I'm playing way above my league, but hey. I'm not one to judge. I think, if you're inclined to slum it, I'd be game."  

"Uh," she croaked. 

But she didn't decline the idea. Maybe the whole romance/engagement/marriage/babies deal was off the table with this one. But he was still, somehow, after everything, incredibly cute. And she was lonely, if not downright desperate. And it wasn't like she had anyone else banging down her door. 

Jesus, she thought, I can’t believe I’m about to slum it. 

"Just don’t get me pregnant," she said. "You’re way too broke to become a dad." 

"Your place or mine?" 

—

notes: so, if you notice some of these guys' TS3 era stories are dated "1985," that's because I was doing an 1980's theme for that blog. The stories and events will remain canon for this blog. Let's just pretend the universe fell into a 100-year black hole, and here we are. 

^And on second thought, I finally revised the 100-year gap out. 1985 is just 2085. Because we don't need to make it confusing, lol!