June 2085: adult supervision, part 2

Ingrid Thompson is 22, Laney is 26. Andreas Tsoukalos is 27. 


Laney was the responsible one. Laney was the good one. Laney didn't get in trouble, she didn't say bad words, she didn't stay out late, and she certainly didn't go to dive bars in the south end to watch male strippers.

But Ingrid did, and this was Ingrid's idea. "It’s kind of hot," Ingrid said. "But I'm not sure if they're actual strippers. I think they're wearing too many clothes."



"They're cute," Laney said. "But you're not going to distract me with pretty boys. I'm still kind of mad at you."

"You don't get mad."

It was true, Laney didn't get mad either. "I should be mad at you."

"Laney, really? You never want your own place? You want to live with mom and dad until you're a wrinkly old woman?"

Laney shrugged. "Or until I get married."

"When are you getting married? You aren't even dating anyone."

"I don't like living alone."


"I know," Ingrid said. "You buy the place since you have all the money, and I’ll live there with you. You won't be alone, and I’d rather pay rent to you than Mom and Dad."

Laney couldn't stop watching the men dancing on the counter tops. She could hardly even blink.

"Why aren't they wearing firemen's uniforms?" Ingrid asked. "Where are we supposed to put the dollar bills?"

"I don't know," Laney wondered out loud. "Maybe between their teeth?"


Ingrid's eyes went wide. "Why didn't I think of that!?!"

"I was just joking."

"No, for real, gimme a dollar!"

Laney gave her sister a dollar.


Ingrid went up to the one in the blue sweater first, and he came down off the counter. "I don't want a dollar," he said. "I was just dancing. That guy over there dared me. I don't even know who he is."

Ingrid was charming, but mostly unrelenting, and she managed to learn that his name was Andreas, and that he was twenty-seven and new to town.

"And I have a girlfriend," he said.

"Damn," she said. "What a waste. Because God, you are pretty. I think it’s a crime to be as pretty as you are and have a girlfriend."


He shook his head. "It’s not a crime last I checked."

"What are you, a cop or something?"

"In fact," he said. "I am."


"No fuckin' shit," Ingrid said, and then shouted across the room, "Hey, Laney, get over here!" She turned back to Andreas and grinned. "My sister’s a cop too."

"Hey, Laney, this is Andreas. He's a cop, and he has a girlfriend. Sucks doesn't it?"


Laney reached out her hand. “What depart—”  She made the mistake of looking in his eyes at the exact moment she touched his hand, so that hers went floppy and stupid, like she’d forgotten what a handshake was. “De-partment?”


“Forensics,” he said.

Laney blushed, and in her head she was thinking, fuck me—and she wasn't sure if that would be an exclamation or a request. “Me too,” she said, her voice something between a whisper and a swoon.

“I started last week,” he said. “Are you Elaina Thompson?”


“Yeah. I was out on... vacation last week. If you call babysitting my grown siblings a vacation.”

“I think you're my supervisor.”

“Oh my.” She wasn't sure how she’d manage to supervise this one and still get any work done.


He was friendly and talkative, which was good because she didn't feel like she had any words in her head. He joked about how crappy the work computers were, and then they both laughed about some stupid crime drama everybody raved about these days and how factually impossible it was. After some time, she began to forget she'd ever been nervous to shake his hand and wished she could have another try. But people didn't do that—shake hands halfway through a conversation. She just wanted to touch him again.

What a shame about that girlfriend.

"So what brought you guys here?"

"My girlfriend, Gwen. She got a job at the newspaper. She was really excited about it, so it came down to either I follow her here, or we break up."

"You picked to follow her. How sweet."

He seemed to pause, but then he smiled gently. "I didn't know if I'd like it here, but it seems okay."

"It'll grow on you, don't worry."

"Thanks, Laney. That’s reassuring. Or should I call you Elaina?"


"No, Laney is fine."

"Good to meet you, boss."

She giggled, and a happy feeling bubbled from her head to her fingers to her toes. Laney had never been in trouble in her whole life, but like her sister would say, there's a first time for everything.

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