Dinner that night was a rather uneventful affair for Lincoln. He was too caught up in his thoughts to engage with the rest of his family, and questions from his parents were almost always met with flat, laconic answers ("So, how's school?" "Good." "Making any new friends?" "Not really.") He didn't even react when his little sister Lana tossed a gob of mashed potatoes at him, in an attempt to start a food fight (much to her confusion). Part of him was itching to talk a little more about his alternate timeline with Lisa, but he knew that once the rest of his sisters knew about the goggles, they'd all want a turn with them, so he held his tongue.

After dinner, Lincoln figured that there was no harm in giving the goggles another go. Having finished his homework and read all his comic books, it wasn't as if he had anything else to do; besides, he was wondering whether his alternate self would continue to keep Connie a secret from his sisters (sans Lucy).


4:30 p.m.

October 6

The Loud House

Lincoln sat on the couch with his ever-twiddling fingers in his lap. At this point, he had his exact course of action planned out in his head; once his mom came home from work, he would walk her into the kitchen and tell her about his planned dinner with Connie, out of his sisters' collective earshot. Since most of them were upstairs doing homework, he figured that there was little, if any, risk of his plan getting loused up.

As he expected, Rita walked through the door about half past four, looking appropriately weary and frazzled from a full day of work. Out of courteousness, Lincoln gave her a moment to hang up her coat and put her handbag down on the easy chair before approaching her.

"Hey, mom?" he said, rising off the couch as soon as Rita put down her bag.

"Oh, hello, Lincoln. How was your day?"

"It was okay. Do you have a minute?" He gently took her by the wrist and used his other hand to gesture towards the kitchen.

"Of course, dear," said Rita, following Lincoln into said kitchen. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, see, there's this new girl at school named Connie, and..."

Lincoln paused, as he sensed a shift in his mother's facial expression. Sure enough, once he got a better look, he noticed a burgeoning smile.

"Oh, don't mind me, Lincoln," said Rita. "Go on."

"...well, see, she and I have been hanging out a lot lately. You know, getting to know each other. And she wants to set up a dinner... thing." Lincoln tried to skirt around using the word "date", knowing that the word would send his mother into an excited frenzy. "With me, you, Dad, and her parents."

Rita's smile swelled in size; apparently, Lincoln's avoidance of the "d" word did little to quell her excitement. "Aww, my little boy is growing up!"

"Shhh!" hissed Lincoln, nipping Rita's smile in the bud before it could grow any bigger. "Not so loud! I don't want my sisters to hear."

"You don't?" asked Rita. "Why not? I'm sure they'd love to hear the news."

"That's the problem. If they hear about the dinner, they're going to want to come with us."

Rita raised an eyebrow at him. "And?"

"Well, you see...uh..."

Lincoln paused and looked up at his mother, who was sporting an uncomfortably vague frown. He couldn't quite discern what she was trying to convey. Disappointment? Suspicion? Hurt? Lincoln knew he would have to brace himself for at least one of those if he didn't pick his next words carefully.

Fortunately, it was at this moment that he recalled something Connie said to him earlier that day:

"My parents are, um- how do I put this- conservative. Traditional. Well, my mom is, at least."

Bingo.

"See, Connie's parents are kind of traditional," said Lincoln. "You know, nuclear family. If they see that you have eleven kids, they might frown upon that."

"Hmm..."

Rita drew her hand towards her chin, stroking it. Lincoln couldn't tell if her furrowed brow was meant to signify deep thought or disapproval; in truth, it was a bit of both. Granted, one could argue that a family who would judge her for having a lot of kids wasn't a family that was worth befriending. On the other hand, she didn't want to keep her growing son away from a girl he was interested in.

"But Lincoln," she said, "they're going to find out eventually, aren't they?"

Lincoln, ever the quick thinker, already had an answer prepared. "Here's my thinking; first, we let them get to know us. You know, introduce ourselves, befriend them. And then, by the time they've grown to like us, the fact that we have such a big family won't matter to them!"

After taking a moment to process Lincoln's suggestion, Rita looked down and gave her son an approving smile. "Okay, Lincoln. I'll do it!"

"Great!" cried Lincoln, pumping his fist. "But remember, don't tell my sisters. I don't want to hurt their feelings."

"Don't worry, Lincoln. Your secret is safe with me."

After a firm handshake, Rita began to turn away from Lincoln, only to see him gesture for her to wait.

"Hold on. Before you go, here's Connie's home number."

Lincoln pulled out his phone, scrolled over to Connie's name in his contact list, and read the number aloud - just loud enough for Rita to hear without alerting the attention of anyone else in the house. Once Rita programmed the number into her own phone, the two parted ways. As soon as he heard her bedroom door close behind her, Lincoln heaved out a huge sigh and collapsed backward onto the couch. It was as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. With a little bit of quick thinking, he had managed to salvage what could have otherwise been a horribly awkward affair.


Meanwhile, the other Lincoln was facing a similar obstacle. The difference was that he planned to overcome it not through deception and secrecy, but through earnestness and trust. He only hoped it would work just as well.

In the hours leading up to their next multiverse lunch, Lincoln had rehearsed what he was going to say several times over, mapping out a plan for every conceivable response he could predict from Ronnie Anne. Depending on how the conversation went, he was ready to employ reason, logic, guilt-tripping, appeals to her sensibilities, and in a worst-case scenario, shameless begging. Once the two of them took their seats at the lunch table, he felt like a star actor prancing onto the stage on opening night. It was his time.

"So, how was your session last night?" she asked.

Hmm... standard opening, thought Lincoln. Nothing too difficult yet.

"Pretty cool," he said. "Remember that new girl I meet, Connie?"

Ronnie's eyelids flipped open just a bit. "Oh, yeah. You haven't mentioned her in a while. What's up with her?"

Okay, good. No signs of jealousy or resentment yet.

"Well, we- I mean, she and my alternate self just set up a dinner," he said. "It'll be me, her, my parents and her parents."

"Mm-hmm."

A moment of silence ensued as Ronnie Anne took her eyes off of him and went back to her lunch. Even after all of his preparation, this was an outcome that Lincoln hadn't anticipated. Jealousy, anger, worry, and even excitement were all reactions he had counted as possibilities. But apathy?

Lincoln kept his gaze locked on her as she ate, waiting for her to make another move. Surely, he thought, she'd have something more to say to him than just, "Mm-hmm."

But he thought wrong. That was the last word she spoke to him about the subject. Or, rather, it would have been, if she hadn't noticed him staring at her out of the corner of her eye.

"What?" she asked, looking up from her food. "Why do you keep looking at me like you're expecting me to say something?"

Lincoln gulped. He could sense that he was veering into dangerous territory. "Um- no reason. I mean, not no reason, but-"

"You expected me to be jealous, didn't you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"N-no!" cried Lincoln, desperate to avoid a repeat of the whole egg baby fiasco. Unfortunately, his nervousness and desire for reassurance got the best of him, and the following addendum squeaked its way out of his mouth:

"I mean... you're not, are you?"

Every muscle in Lincoln's body locked up and froze as soon as the last word left his lips. He sorely wished he could grab those words and shove them back into his mouth. Alas, he couldn't, and now all he could do was brace himself for the inevitable chewing out.

But to his surprise, Ronnie Anne did nothing of the sort. On the contrary: she laughed. Ronnie Anne kicked her head back and cackled, smacking the table. "Gosh, that's priceless. That's really something."

Lincoln experienced a brief feeling of relief upon hearing that raspy laugh of hers, which ended a second later when she rose from her chair and started walking over towards his seat. Before he even had time to maneuver, she put the boy in a headlock and gave him a light noogie.

"Was wittle Winky afwaid that I was gonna be angwy? Hmm?"

"H-hey! Cut it out!" exclaimed Lincoln, his cry interspersed with short bursts of laughter. In a weird way, he liked it when Ronnie Anne played rough with him, though that didn't happen quite as often as it did when they first started dating. He suspected it was because of her growing maturity, and consequently, her fear that she could hurt him if she wasn't careful. Regardless, he couldn't help but feel giddy when she gave him the occasional noogie or bear hug.

"See why I call you Lame-O?" she asked as she released the hold. "You don't have to be so afraid of me, y'know. You're my boyfriend, not my puppy."

Lincoln chuckled, as his cheeks assumed a light shade of red in response to her emasculating (but accurate) assessment of his behavior.

"O-okay, I'll keep that in mind," he said. "Oh, and here are the goggles."

He took them out of his backpack and gently tossed them to her.

"Thanks," she said as she caught them and dropped them into her own backpack. "By the way, where do you want to meet up tomorrow to get the goggles back?"

Lincoln's eyes flipped open. He was going to suggest that they just meet at school like they usually do, but it suddenly dawned on him that today was Friday. How in the heck did I forget that?

"Um, how about the Royal Woods Park?" he suggested. "I'll meet you there around noon."

"Sounds good," she said. "Actually, now that I think about it, why don't we make a date out of it?"

Lincoln peered at her with intrigue. "A date?"

"Sure! We'll bring a frisbee and a picnic lunch, and just, you know, spend a few hours hanging out."

She looked back at him, giving him a light smile that put her buck teeth (which he always found to be pretty cute) on display. "To be honest, with all the time I've been spending with the goggles, I've kind of missed spending time with you."

Lincoln, knowing full well he couldn't turn down such a heartfelt request, gave her a sharp nod. "I'd love to!" he said. "I'll meet you outside the big fountain in the center. See you then!"

And with that, the two of them parted ways. For the remainder of the school day, Ronnie Anne found herself feeling far less anxious about the upcoming session than she usually did. In the two days since her extended session, she had come to accept the fantastical nature of her alternate timeline, and it helped that she had just reassured Lincoln (and herself) that their relationship was just fine. So while she had no way of knowing what to expect for her next venture into the multiverse, she was pretty confident that it wouldn't be anything she couldn't handle.

In fact, once she got home, it took her a couple of hours before she even touched the goggles again. She took extra care to do a thorough job on all her homework, since she knew she wouldn't have any time to do it tomorrow. Furthermore, if her grades started slipping, her mom would invariably blame the goggles and forbid her from using them.

And worse, Ronnie Anne wouldn't blame her. She was getting a little more invested in that gadget than she wanted to admit. Part of the reason she set up that date with Lincoln was to stave off her persistent fear that she'd end up more involved with her alternate timeline than her current timeline. But she took solace in the fact that she at least recognized that danger, and was doing what she could do avert it.

For the time being, anyway.