Who: Laura and Albert What: A... talk. About Jacquelyn. And Jamie. With yelling. Lots of yelling. When: Sunday, May 30 - evening Rating: PG-13 for possible language? Status: Complete
Carefully placing her keys on the little hook by the door, Laura shut the front door behind her and eased out of her jacket. She'd seen so little of her own house in the past month that the place almost felt unfamiliar. Off-island visits had taken up most of her time on the weekends, so she felt her absence obligated her to work extra-long hours in the clinic on week days, especially with so many Project patients coming in. Despite her promise and desire to spend more time with her family, the desire had never quite manifested - she'd been away and working so much that she barely saw Albert or her children, at least when they were awake. It had become a late-night ritual for Laura to slip into Jamie's room for a few minutes every night while he was sleeping, just to pretend she was spending time with her troubled son. She had decided that it must be guilt that caused the seemingly-endless stomach pains that plagued her every day. Still, despite all the negative consequences her hard work was having on her personal life, Laura knew that it was necessary. Exigent, even. The Project officials wouldn't be calling her off-island so much if her presence wasn't important, and during this last visit, she'd learned just how important it was.
All the scientists had been informed that the delivery of patient X-1 to the island had not been particularly smooth, but Laura had slowly learned just how much of an understatement this was. Having witnessed the destruction caused by the patient's "episode," as they'd called it, Laura could understand why the project officials had decided to keep the girl under observation for another month. Given how stable the patient had been for the past several weeks, however, it seemed that the higher-ups were ready to reopen the possibility of the patient's transferring to the island. Laura's private thoughts on the matter aside, the problem of supervision now arose. And that, Laura had decided, would be a problem she was going to take into her own hands.
A quick sweep of the house told Laura that neither of the children nor Albert himself were present. She was just reaching for her phone when a little noise in the garage caught her attention. Ah. Last time she'd seen him, Albert was busily organizing the garage; perhaps he'd never left it. Crossing the foyer, she opened the door and peered inside, one long limb slowly following the other as she entered. A brief glance at the newly-organized space gave her pause. Had he really been doing this all weekend?