"Yeah, you've got Sam. I'm not here so leave a message. If this is Frank, whatever Ramon did, just clean it up and suck it up. You're in charge there."
The voicemail Natalie left in the afternoon sounded a little bit agitated, but she had a reason for that.
"Sam, it's me. The Perk staff is gone and I ran into some weird people there. Weirds as in might be responsible for all this crap. I'm fine and going back to the library but I thought you should know." She paused for a breath. "Don't do anything stupid."
The phone number was Natalie's. The voice was not.
"Hey tiny Dad, it's Ada. Yes, I'm older. Yes, you should get yourself to Fandom. Mom has sixty daughters and someone needs to pay more attention to me. So... Come here! Okay, bye."
Natalie had sent her little package with the idea that it'd reach Seattle and Sam's doorstep on Friday. But with the wonky time differences and multiversal post service, she really had no idea when it'd actually get there. Probably at some moddable time.
And it wasn't anything big or flashy. Just a compilation of music from the future from a few different parts of the world, stuck on a CD because more contemporary (for her) means would've required sending a player along. She knew what kind of music he liked, and she'd picked accordingly from her slowly growing collection. The cover listed the artists and the songs in a neat computer print, along with Happy Birthday Sam printed on the bottom.
Her name wasn't anywhere on there, nor her handwriting. But she wasn't expecting him to not get who it was from. It was pretty easy to guess.
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"Sam, it's me. The Perk staff is gone and I ran into some weird people there. Weirds as in might be responsible for all this crap. I'm fine and going back to the library but I thought you should know." She paused for a breath. "Don't do anything stupid."
Click.
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"Hey tiny Dad, it's Ada. Yes, I'm older. Yes, you should get yourself to Fandom. Mom has sixty daughters and someone needs to pay more attention to me. So... Come here! Okay, bye."
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And it wasn't anything big or flashy. Just a compilation of music from the future from a few different parts of the world, stuck on a CD because more contemporary (for her) means would've required sending a player along. She knew what kind of music he liked, and she'd picked accordingly from her slowly growing collection. The cover listed the artists and the songs in a neat computer print, along with Happy Birthday Sam printed on the bottom.
Her name wasn't anywhere on there, nor her handwriting. But she wasn't expecting him to not get who it was from. It was pretty easy to guess.
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Look at how Nathan was managing to be apologetic two days later.
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Succinct but sincere.
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At least he was honest.
Thanks, though. And sorry again.
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Very confusing.
Take care of yourself.
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