He was in immediate danger of getting sick everywhere. "California? You decided to go to Hollywood? When...god, when, come on, there has to be something in here..." He finally found it. Bills, none of them past due which was so not very Mark. How the hell were they affording this place if that was their mortgage? Seriously? But the date on it said quite clearly that it was 2020. No, thank you, he was way too old to be having kids. Oh, weird. He was old now. And he'd thought thirty was bad.
"It's been eight years, Faith. We're...we're in the future." Rubbing his temples with his fingers, he shook his head. This could not possibly be happening. What about their friends back in Lawrence? God, eight years... Roger. Mimi. What if... Again, he fought a wave of nausea. "Try and find something with this kid's name on it. He's not going to be pleased if 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' don't even know his name."
One thing he would say, though. The picture of the two of them and the little boy...they looked happy. Genuinely happy. And that almost worried him more than being there.