Reading the names on the nearby headstones, one fact is fairly clear. There may be a multiverse of realities, but my time in any of them will eventually have to end. The grave for Piper’s dad is near mine. A row beyond it, there are several monuments for Dr. Quickly overgrown with wildflowers. I recognize engravings for Abraham and Cowboy Bob among the scattered other graves. There are even a couple of headstones with Mym’s name on them.
“Does it bother you?” I ask. “Knowing that there are times out there when you didn’t make it? Alternate endings to your story?”
Mym holds onto my arm and looks up to the clear blue Montana sky. There are no meteorites to watch today, but this spot isn’t far from the hillside where we first lay talking under the stars. It makes me wonder if she’s recalling that night too.
“I think part of me is okay with knowing that there are versions of me that have died,” she says. “I remember how terrible it was the first time I lost my dad. And when I’ve lost friends. But I think that knowing they’ve been through it already—been to where we’re all headed—it makes the thought a little less lonely. I feel like the biggest part of our adventure is yet to come, but we’ll have friends when we get there.
“When I look out the window of the farmhouse and see the graves out here, I used to be sad or scared, but not anymore. It’s just a reminder that the universe has more to show me, and some piece of me is already there experiencing it.”
“You don’t think that makes us somehow lessened? Like pale copies of the originals?”
Mym stretches up and pulls my face toward hers, standing on tiptoes and pressing her lips to mine. She kisses me softly and slowly, then drops back to her heels. “Did that feel like I love you any less?”
I can’t contain the warm feeling rushing through my body—the electricity of her touch. “No. It most certainly did not.”
Mym wraps herself around my arm again and leans her head onto my shoulder. “Good. Because we have a lot of life left to live.”
Mym and I are still hand-in-hand when we walk back into Cowboy Bob’s farmhouse. His resident housekeeper, Connie, is baking something delicious-smelling in the oven. The long wooden table is set for a meal, but Piper and a younger version of Dr. Quickly have commandeered one end and are busy wrapping a package.
“It won’t do to keep it now. Otherwise it won’t ever end up in our collection later,” Harry is explaining. “What is it I always say?”
Piper mumbles in a monotone. “I know. What happened, happened. You can’t change the past.”
“Exactly,” the scientist replies. “But sometimes we must be the ones to ensure that the past happens.”
I squeeze Mym’s hand, then leave her in the kitchen to go see what Piper and Dr. Quickly are working on. I rest a hand on Piper’s shoulder and look over her head to discover that the package they are wrapping contains the framed photograph of Piper in the welders goggles—the same art piece that we spotted in the museum in Rome.
“Tying up some loose ends?” I ask.
Piper still sounds exasperated but she nods. “Grandpa says I have to send it to the museum or my whole life won’t make any sense.”
“I didn’t phrase it like that,” Harry replies. “But it’s true. Creating temporal paradoxes is—”
“Universally irresponsible,” Piper and I complete his sentence in unison.
“Well, yes. Exactly.” Dr. Quickly surveys both of us. “I see my work here is done. I’ll see if Connie needs my help taste-testing dinner.” He checks his pocket watch and heads for the kitchen.
Piper and I look at each other and laugh. We finish wrapping her package, and I help her position it near the front door. When we get back to the kitchen, her parents arrive through the back door. They are holding hands. Piper runs to them. “Are you both staying for dinner this time?”
The other Ben looks at his wife and smiles. “Yeah. I think we will. Don’t want Grandpa to think we’re only using him for his babysitting services.”
“I’m not a baby,” Piper argues. “I’ll be ten any day now. If you would let me have my party already.”
“Well, you know what terrible tyrants your mom and I are about birthdays. Only letting you have one a year and all.” He looks at me and winks.
“That reminds me,” my Mym says from the kitchen. “What day did you choose for her birthday? Did you pick it or just let it happen when it happened?” She’s absentmindedly resting her hand on her belly.
“My birthday is February 29th,” Piper says. “Because I’m a leap child.”
“Ha. Makes sense,” I say. “Doesn’t that mean you should technically only get a birthday every four years?”
Piper scowls at me as though I have completely betrayed her. “No! It means that my birthday can be whatever day I want. Or it should be.”
Mym smiles from the kitchen. “Would you recommend that day as a birthday? Do you think we should pick the same day for our Piper, or something else?”
“Yes!” Piper exclaims. “Then we can have the same birthday! We can have parties together and share presents. It will be like having a twin sister. Only she’ll be little, and I’ll have to teach her all about time travel.”
“I’m glad you don’t mind sharing,” Piper’s mom replies. “But it might be a while till you’re teaching anyone to time travel. Let’s concentrate on sticking together.” She looks across the room to my Mym, who smiles gratefully.
“Okay, dinner is served!” Connie announces from the kitchen. She waves a wooden serving spoon at us. “Buffet style, because Lord knows I can never tell how many place settings to put out around here. More of ya’ll could be popping in the door at any moment.”
“You know you wouldn’t have it any other way, Mrs. A.” Our host, Cowboy Bob, descends the staircase into the hallway, followed by Abraham. “Don’t pretend you don’t love every bit of this life.”
Connie blushes as he enters the room. “Oh, you know I’m not complaining, Bobby. A full house is a happy house in my book. Don’t care how many of you there are. At least this way, I don’t have to learn as many new names!”
I grin as I move into the kitchen and take a plate.
Before long, all of us are seated around the farmhouse table. We pass salt and pepper shakers and pats of butter around as we get situated. Dr. Quickly pauses before we dig in and lifts his glass. “I’d like to propose a toast.”
I elevate my wine glass.
“There are many times and places worthy of note in this wild and wonderful universe, but few could bring the joy of the evening we are sharing right now. So here’s to the present moment. If we never have another, we can still count ourselves blessed.”
“Hear, hear!” I raise my glass. The others cheer their agreement as well. Mym sips her sparkling water and smiles. Her blue eyes crinkle at the corners. She looks happy.
As I look around the table full of faces from my past and future, Dr. Quickly’s words make sense. I couldn’t have put it as eloquently or as succinctly, but he’s accurately summed up my feelings about the life and family I’ve stumbled into.
I’ve come a long way since my first accidental trip on a rainy Wednesday night in 2009. It’s been an exciting ride. I have no idea where the future will take me from here, but I’m not in a hurry.
I’ll find out in time.
Epilogue
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About the Author
Nathan Van Coops lives in St. Petersburg, Florida, on a diet comprised mainly of tacos. He enjoys old planes, motorcycles, and Volkswagens; and contends that there is such a thing as "dressy" flip-flops. He is the author of the time travel adventure series, In Times Like These, and The Skylighter Adventures.
Learn more at www.nathanvancoops.com
Copyright © 2018 by Nathan Van Coops
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