Three Months Later
Alice found herself alone in a booming nightclub that she had gone to with Alfred, trying to remember what she was personally doing there herself. Sure, Alfred needed to be there for publicity and all, but she personally had no business being there. So that once again posed the question the kept entering her mind. What was she doing there?
Of course, there was a very simple answer to that. Alfred. Why else would she be there if he hadn't invited her to come along? The only thing was, though she was his date, she had barely seen him since they had gotten there, due to adoring fans and such. She had quickly found a corner booth to wait for him in while she nursed a bottle of apple ale.
"I'm sorry about that, Alice," Alfred apologized nearly an hour later, as he slid into the spot across the table from her. "I finally found a bouncer to hold them all off. It's just us now, I promise."
She glared up at him. "Why should I care?" she huffed. "It's not like this is an actual date. Go dance with all of the girls for all I care." Even though she tried to sound indifferent, her voice betrayed her, showing her true feelings on the matter of being ditched by the man who had invited her along.
"So you're upset with me," Alfred concluded.
"Of course I am!" Alice nearly shouted, struggling to be heard over the music. "I could have been doing better things with my night, Alfred! I'm your bloody manager, for crying out loud! But no, I'm stuck in an exclusive dance club by myself for your publicity or whatever it was! I'm so mad that I don't even remember anymore!" She was fuming, surprised by the lack of steam shooting from her ears. "I just want to go home!"
"Then I'll take you home," Alfred said, fishing around his pocket for his car keys. "It's that simple, Alice."
"And what will you do once I'm back home? Come back out here?" she demanded. "Annika told me to keep a close eye on you, Jones!"
Alfred chuckled to himself. "No need to worry about me coming back here. The music is killing my head. I'll just go home after dropping you off."
"Swear to me that you will," Alice told him.
Alfred stuck out his pinky. "I pinky swear."
"What are you? Five?" Alice scoffed. Yet even though she dissed it, she still linked pinkies with him.
"Hey now," Alfred defended. "Pinky promises are legit. I've never ever broken one." His words slightly slurred as he spoke. "Now let's get going."
"Just how drunk are you right now?" Alice asked him, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Why does it matter?"
In one swift movement, Alice snatched Alfred's keys out of his hand."I'm driving," she decided. "And you're just going to have to stay over on my couch tonight. End of story."
Alfred sighed, but he didn't argue.
.
"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" Alfred asked Alice as she half-dragged him down the hallway to her apartment. "Because you're, like, really pretty, Alice." The alcohol had made its way to his head, and Alice was certain that he was spouting nonsense. "I remember when I saw you for the first time at that Beatles concert. I couldn't take my eyes off of you."
"What Beatles concert?" Alice asked him, confused. She took out her key and unlocked her door. "In you go, Alfred."
"You were squealing over John Lennon. Damn, you were so cute," he continued. He followed her into the apartment. "You had no idea that I even existed at the time, but you were all I saw."
"That's very sweet of you, but it's time for you to go to bed now," she told him, locking the door behind them and leading him over to the couch. "I'll take you home tomorrow morning."
He grabbed her arm as he sat on the couch and kicked off his shoes. "Wait, I'm not done yet," he told her. "I finally got the nerve to walk over and talk to you, but you brushed me off. So I sang to you."
"What song did you sing?" Alice asked, giving in and playing along.
"I'll Get You," Alfred answered, face completely serious. "You laughed at me, Alice. But I couldn't give up on you. I remembered you from all of my past lives. I needed you."
That was when Alice became uncomfortable. "Past lives, you say? And which life are you on now?"
Alfred yawned. "I lost track," he sighed, laying back and closing his eyes. "But you're in every single one of them." And at that, he fell asleep.
Alice sat there for a moment, confused. Being only twenty-three, she was far too young to have ever been to a Beatles concert before. That was for sure. And what did Alfred say about past lives? None of it made sense. She decided to dismiss it as drunk babble and went to bed herself.
.
Alice woke up the next morning being snuggled by a sleeping Alfred. Her heart began to race as she realized that he was in her bed with her. When had that happened?! She tried to calm herself down, but nothing was working. At this rate, she was going to wake Alfred up at any moment. Then again, why was she so worried about waking him up?
She placed a firm hand on his shoulder and gently shook him. "Alfred, I need you to wake up," she stated to him. "Alfred? It's time to wake up."
He groggily opened his eyes. "Hmm? What?" he asked before yawning. "What's going on, Alice?"
"That's what I was about to ask you," she replied. "For starters, what are you doing in my bed when I left you on the couch last night?"
His eyes flew open as he realized the blunder he had made when half-drunk and half-asleep. "I am so sorry," he said, quickly moving away from her. "I didn't mean anything by it, Alice! I swear! I guess I got up and went to the bathroom and came in here instead of the living room last night."
Alice sighed. "Could you be more careful in the future?" she snapped at him. "I don't appreciate waking up to random men in my bed, whether they're famous or not."
"Understood, ma'am," Alfred answered with a nod. "I really am sorry, Alice," he sincerely said. "How can I make it up to you? I can make you breakfast, if you'd like?"
She thought it over. "That actually sounds lovely," she decided after a few moments of anxious silence. "Yes, Alfred, I would appreciate you making me breakfast."
He pulled the blanket off of himself. "Then I'll go and do just that. What would you like?"
Alice was quiet as she thought for a moment. "I would like blueberry pancakes. I was going to make some this morning anyway, so it's perfect. The instructions are right on the box that the powder is in."
"You make yours from a box?" Alfred asked. "How sad. Don't you know the best pancakes are made from scratch?" He tisked at her for a moment. "Lucky for you, I have the recipe memorized." His mouth formed into a grin. "So I'm going to go and get right on that."
Alice smiled to herself after Alfred left the room. How did she get so lucky as to be his manager? Then again, she wished they could have a closer personal relationship than this, one where they purposely woke up in bed together. But all she could do was dream.
A thought suddenly popped into her head. Alfred's drunk ramblings from the night before echoed in her head, and she wanted to go and tease him about them. Getting up out of bed, she put on her fuzzy, green bathrobe and tied it securely around her waist before walking to the kitchen.
"Alfred, you said some rather peculiar things last night," she told him. "When you were drunk, you were telling me about a Beatles concert we had met at, but the thing is, I've never been to a Beatles concert."
He nearly dropped the sugar he was pouring into a measuring cup. "Wow, that is peculiar," he nervously said. "What else did I say?"
"You were talking about serenading me with Beatles songs and how I laughed at you," she said, making tea in the corner of her kitchen. "And then you said something about me being in every one of you past lives." Alice turned to him. "Were you just messing around, or do you actually believe in past lives?"
Alfred was frozen in place. How could he answer a question like that without either seeming insane or like a liar? He was pinned in a corner by her. "Well, er," he began. "I don't really know how to answer that. You see, I was drunk and-"
"You were drunk and talking about us going to a Beatles concert!" she laughed. "I think you thought of the Beatles because I'm English, isn't that right?" She smiled at him. "But how amazing would it be if we had actually gone to one back in the sixties?" Alice sighed out as she waited for her tea to be ready. "But it was just the way you talked about it that made it seem so realistic. It's almost as if you were actually trying to convince me that it really happened. No wonder you're such a wonderful actor!"
Alfred sheepishly smiled. "Yeah, I think it was just a scene from a movie I was in," he said. "I think I was just reenacting it."
"Probably," Alice answered with a shrug. "It seemed so real, though. I'll have to check that movie out sometime."
"Yeah, if I can remember the name, I'll tell you," he lied, biting his lip. He hated lying to Alice like this, but there was no way she could know about the past lives they had spent together. It was too early for that. And it was too early in the morning to remember how she had died in that life.
.
Once Alfred was home that day, he sighed to himself. Just what exactly had he done the night before? Everything was blurry to him. Did he really tell her about the Beatles concert he had met her at in their last lifetime together? How embarrassing!
He covered his face with his hands, though there was no one around to see him blushing. All he wanted at that moment was to crawl under a rock and hide from Alice for the next thirty years! How could he have let that information slip so easily while drunk? That was insane! Every part of his brain was screaming at him for being so stupid.
He then thought back to her from that life. She had been so happy and carefree back then. Then in this life, she was strict and disciplined. Was this the universe's way of getting back at her for the way she had died? That was something he constantly pondered. It didn't make any sense at all. Why was she this way in this life?
In all of their past lives, they would laugh and joke together. They had barely done that in this life, and it was bugging at him. Was it because he had to get her to remember? Because once she remembered him in all of the other lives, she was a lot happier to be with him. Why were things so difficult this time around?
.
Late August, 1993
Alice Jones laid back against her husband and smiled up at him. "What do you think it's going to be?" she asked him, placing a hand on her stomach. She was so excited to be a new mother. Her whole body seemed to be humming with life and joy.
"I don't know," Alfred answered. "But I'm sure the baby will be beautiful, just like you."
"Oh, stop that," she giggled, blushing. Everything about that moment was perfect for them to share a kiss, so she put her hand on the back of his neck and led his face to hers so they could. "You're just too sweet to me."
"How else should a husband be toward his beautiful wife?" he asked her. "I mean, we've been trying for this baby for years, right? And look, we're finally getting one. I mean, we're in our mid-thirties, but we have a baby on the way. Isn't that just incredible?"
Alice blushed. "I know that," she said. It was true, she and Alfred had been trying for over a decade to get pregnant, and it had finally happened. She just hoped that they would get to keep it. "I'm so happy right now."
"I can feel it in the vibes you give off," Alfred told her, smiling. "You're wonderful, Alice."
"Not nearly as wonderful as you," she told him before pulling him in for another kiss.
.
Present Day
Alice sat up on her couch. Had she really dreamed something that seemed so real? What was going on? Was it because of Alfred's talk of past lives that she had dreamed something like that? It was so real to her that she placed a hand on her stomach to make sure she wasn't pregnant.
When she realized she was still Alice from 2017, she heaved a great sigh. What a strange dream to have. She didn't know what to make of it, so she just let it go and drift to the back of her mind as she thought of what kinds of things were on her agenda for that day. After all, now that she was in charge of two schedules instead of just one, she was a lot busier and needed to keep track.
"Alfred Jones, what have you done to me?" she muttered to herself as she opened her planner with a sigh. "You have me dreaming of 'past lives' and other stuff that makes absolutely no sense at all."