Dear Readers: From your reviews, it sounds like several of you figured out what Elizabeth forgot! 😊

CHAPTER 65 - The LAST MINUTE SHOPPE

"Are you okay?" Jack asked when Elizabeth – a petrified look on her face – tensed in her seat as she finally remembered what she had forgotten. Her mind finally stopped thinking CRAP and now just froze.

"Elizabeth, are you okay?" he asked again.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I – uh – I just need to . . . um. . . .go to the bathroom," she explained as she stood up.

"Don't be gone long. They may call our flight."

"Right. I'll be right back."

Elizabeth grabbed her handbag and hurried down the crowded concourse lined with shops and places to eat. Donut Delight. Hummus Heaven. Artichoke Adventures.

Who can eat at a time like this?!

She hastily walked past Biscuits by the Basket, and the ladies' restroom, not even slowing her pace as she frantically scanned the establishments' facades.

A hundred yards down the long hall, she found the store she was looking for.

A slightly out-of-breath Elizabeth approached the young cashier wearing a bright cheery red sales shirt with the name 'Last Minute Shoppe' embroidered on the front pocket.

"I need condoms," Elizabeth declared with a gasp.

She hoped that the store's spelling of Shoppe, which was meant to evoke a sense of old-fashioned charm and quaintness, didn't mean that it only sold things from centuries ago. If she pulls out a clunky metal medieval chastity belt and offers it to me instead of modern birth control, I'll scream.

"How many?" the unfazed woman behind the counter asked as she turned to the cabinet behind her.

"How many?"

"How many condoms do you need?" the cashier, who appeared to be in her early twenties, repeated in a bored voice and then blew a bubble with her chewing gum.

How many? How many? Elizabeth thought frantically.

We have sex two to three times a week. Let's say three to be on the safe side. No, twice a week because Jack will likely not speak to me for a while when he finds out I forgot to get the BCHD implanted. And he can hold a bit of a grudge. No, go with three. Wait, I'll get my period each month so no sex then. No, that never lasts more than three days. What about Aaron? He leaves me too tired for sex sometimes. . . but I won't have much to do on the transporter and even living in Coal Valley won't be that demanding because there's not a lot of distractions or places to go. Okay, if we have sex three times a week . . .three times a week times times -

"Ma'am?"

"Give me a minute!" a frazzled Elizabeth exclaimed.

Three times a week times fifty weeks a year. That gives us two weeks to account for being sick with a cold or something. Oh wait, we won't get colds. We're going to a sterilized environment where everyone is healthy. Okay. Three times a week times fifty-two weeks a year equals -

"You can estimate," the well-meaning cashier interrupted Elizabeth's thoughts. "I think most people find two are fine for a romantic evening. Unless it's a weekend retreat that you're going on. Then maybe four. If I was going on a weekend retreat, I'd go somewhere warm and sunny. We don't sell bikinis so I hope you remembered to pack that if you're going somewhere beachy. We have sunscreen, though. They're over there", the woman said with a nod to the far wall.

When Elizabeth didn't immediately respond but continued to look flustered while she did the mental calculations, the cashier gave her an odd look.

"Ma'am? Is it a long weekend? Do you think you'll need more than four?"

"I'm counting!"

Three times a week times fifty-two weeks is . . . one hundred fifty-six. One hundred fifty-six times two years.

"I need three hundred and twelve." Elizabeth declared confidently.

"Three hundred and twelve?!" the woman repeated in astonishment.

"Three hundred and twelve. Give or take one or two because things can come up."

"Ma'am, I don't mean to pry or to pass judgment but maybe you-" the woman began hesitantly but Elizabeth was fidgeting and looking over her shoulder as if she was about to get pounced on, that the cashier stopped her lecture before it even really began.

"Please hurry," Elizabeth urged. "I need three hundred and twelve condoms."

"They come in packs of four," the cashier said apologetically as she placed a packet on the counter.

"Packs of four ?!" a wide-eyed Elizabeth erupted.

Okay, remain calm she told herself as she mentally calculated the math. Thank goodness I'm good at math.

Bad at remembering to finish appointments, but good at math.

"Packs of four. . . . . I need seventy-eight packs."

The cashier had handed Elizabeth the three packs which she had behind the counter and then gone to look for more in the back room, where she found another two packs.

Five packs.

Five measly packs of four condoms each. For a total of twenty.

Twenty condoms for a twenty-four month journey.

The fact that Elizabeth was good at math made the situation seem even more dire.

"How can you not have any more?! Can you look again, pleeeasse?"

"I've already looked twice. We don't usually carry a lot. This is an air-space port. People come here to get a bag of potato chips, gum, life-savers, maybe a bottle of aspirin or a toothbrush that they forgot to pack. We're not a motel in Las Vegas, Ma'am."

The cashier seemed to feel the depth of Elizabeth's anguish. "Wait", she suddenly said happily. "I think I've got one in my purse!"

She pulled out her bag and rifled through it before handing a single condom to Elizabeth. "Sorry, that's all I've got – no charge for it."

"It's glow-in-dark!" she added encouragingly in an attempt to lessen Elizabeth's anxiety.

Elizabeth realized that it didn't matter that the store only had five packets. She never could have carried all of them in her handbag and pockets anyway. She was already at the twenty-five pound weight limit for luggage.

What am I going to do?! How do I tell Jack that I didn't get my birth control implanted? Think.

Remain Calm.

Just think.

Who would know what to do in a situation like this?

Who can handle situations like this ? Men and romance.

"You what?!" Julie shouted at Elizabeth. "How could you be so careless? How could you forget to get your birth control implanted? You're going into deep space! I'm supposed to be the careless one. You're supposed to be the sensible mature daughter."

"Just help me!"

"How?"

"Bring me some birth control," Elizabeth whispered. She kept her mouth hidden by one of her hands in case anyone watching her could read lips and was interested in what an attractive frazzled woman was discussing.

"Even if I get to the store and then to the airport in the next thirty minutes, you've already gone through security. You'll have to come out into the nonsecure area to meet me, and they'll never let you do that just before a deep space flight."

Elizabeth, standing behind a tall column in the corner of a vacant lounge for extra privacy, stared at the small image of Julie in her messenger bracelet.

"What about Father? It's one of his company's transporters."

"You want me to tell Father that you need several hundred condoms?" Julie said wryly. "Because I think that for the first time ever, he'll think higher of my morals and judgement than of yours."

"I'm married! There's nothing wrong with my morals!"

"But apparently there's something wrong with your planning."

"It's been a really busy last three days! I had a lot going on!"

"So, do you want me to tell Father to see if he can stop the transporter from lift-off, delay a mission that's been planned for months, and inconvenience all the other passengers so that I have time to have male protection delivered?"

"I don't know", Elizabeth moaned.

"Because I have a feeling that he'll just tell you to miss the flight. Mother will say it's a sign that you're supposed to stay on Earth. She really wants you to stay. But, hey, if you want me to tell them, I will. I love drama!" she said a little too eagerly.

"No. Don't tell them, but . . I don't know. . . Think of something! I am going away for two years and I only have enough protection for three and a half weeks!"

"Do you think Jack will notice?"

"Of course, he'll notice if I stop wanting to have sex!"

"What's the worse that can happen? I mean other than the obvious of some marital riffs?"

"I could get pregnant," Elizabeth hissed.

"Would that be so bad? I love being an aunt."

"Acorn is six months old. It's too soon to get pregnant again! –"

"He's so adorable. Like a miniature version of Jack."

"We got lucky that he was healthy," Elizabeth reminded her sister. " I don't want to chance it again. It's too risky with radiation and unknowns. We're going to a deep space colony that does not have an OBGYN, labor and delivery staff, or a neo natal unit! I am not getting pregnant and having a baby in deep space! I am not wearing a radiation apron again!"

"Fine. Stop getting over-excited. Let me think," Julie said. "Are you sure you just can't get birth control on the ship or in Coal Valley?"

"Positive. We had this whole drama on the last flight when my BCHD stopped working. Jack practically hyperventilated when he found out we didn't have protection. But then we found out we were pregnant anyway so it didn't matter after all."

"If I can't get into see you by your gate, how about I go buy a box - or crate of them - and bring them to the airport. I'll use my Thatcher Company credentials to get into the holding area and tell them that the crate-"

"I don't need a CRATE of them", Elizabeth interrupted disagreeably.

"Fine. I'll tell them that the large box of – shall I say – romantic apparel – ooh, no, I'll call them anthropology-evolution-related devices -" she said in a voice indicating that she was taking way much too pleasure in the drama. "- it goes into the cargo hold. Then, once the flight is underway, and you have time – and provided that you can control you desires and not go through your entire supply in the first day and night – you can go to the cargo section and get them."

PASSENGERS ON TRANSPORTER FLIGHT S9E1, THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. WE ARE NOW BOARDING. PASSENGERS ON TRANSPORTER FLIGHT S9E1, WE ARE NOW BOARDING.

"They just called my flight," Elizabeth wailed.

"I'm sorry, Sis. There's no way I can get them there now."

"Hold on, Jack's messaging me." Elizabeth noticed Jack's typed messaging crossing over Julie's image. "He's asking where I am. I've got to go."

"Good luck."

"I don't need luck. I need birth control," Elizabeth muttered as she disconnected her conversation with Julie and hurried back to her gate's waiting area.