by Rysa Walker
Katherine bit her lip but nodded. “Which means we’re going to have to move very carefully this time.”
“Yes,” I agreed.
I was quiet for a moment, not sure how to broach the subject that was nibbling away at the back of my mind, but I finally just decided to tackle it head-on. “You handled it okay, didn’t you? Having two different sets of memories? So how can you be so sure that Trey wouldn’t have handled it, too?” I could hear the petulant tone in my voice and didn’t really like it, but it was hard not to feel a bit cheated.
“I can’t know anything for certain,” she admitted. “But Trey doesn’t have the CHRONOS gene. And with me, we’re not talking about recent memories. Even something as vivid as being trapped in a burning hotel with a serial killer hot on your heels fades after a while, so it’s not quite the same as two conflicting sets of memories. It’s more like reading an old diary and remembering things you’d forgotten you knew. Or remembering both the truth about an event and a lie you’ve told so many times to so many people that both versions seem equally real. Does that make sense?”
“No,” I admitted. “Not really. But I’ve kind of gotten used to things not making sense. I’ve decided the only way to stay sane is to just roll with the punches.”
“I’m afraid that reconciling the past month will be a more difficult task than reconciling the distant past. Connor and I have been talking about the best way to adjust our own little slice of the timeline. The only reasonable thing is to have you go back to the day of the time shift—otherwise, your mom and dad are going to be very worried.”
Mom. Dad. It felt unbelievably good to hear those words and be reminded that I was back in a world where I had parents again.
“You’ve been gone for over a month in this timeline, at least from their perspective, and this way, we can spare them that agony.” Katherine traced her fingers along the edge of my bandage. “I took a peek while you were asleep and applied a bit more of the hydrogel to the two spots on your scalp. The burn on your neck is pretty deep, but I don’t think the scar will be major after a few weeks. It would have been a very different situation if Kiernan hadn’t been prepared. So any ideas for a cover story that your parents might buy?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Maybe we could pass it off as an idiot with hot coffee on the Metro? I could tell Mom that I just had a cab bring me here, rather than trying to find Dad on campus. And you took me to an urgent care…?”
“If we give it another day or maybe two, to heal, I think that might be plausible,” she said. “And then, once you’re settled with them, I think it might be best if Connor and I made ourselves scarce for a few weeks—fewer points of overlap for you and for us. We’ll tell Harry and Deborah that there was a last-minute opening with an experimental drug trial in Europe.”
“I’m going to tell Dad everything, Katherine. I mean, he’ll be living here, so we’d be lying to him constantly. I’m not good at that, so we can tell Mom the cover story, but—”
I broke off suddenly. Her comment about a drug trial had finally reached my brain, and it reminded me of my conversation with Kiernan. “You’re cancer-free in the other timeline, Katherine. Kiernan was certain of it. Can you think of any reason why you’d be sick in one timeline but not in the other? I know that there are some environmental causes for cancer, but they don’t develop suddenly, do they? I thought something like that would take years to develop.”
“It should,” she agreed, looking a bit stunned. “The only time I was outside of the protection of a medallion after Prudence disappeared was during a hospital stay when they were doing a biopsy. I was adamant that I needed to keep it on me at all times—I told them it was a religious medal. But when I came to, the medallion had been placed in the plastic bag with my other belongings.”
She was silent for a moment and then shook her head as though to clear it. “Just one more thing to think about when Connor and I go on our little vacation, I guess. Do you think you could keep an eye on Daphne for us?”
Daphne thumped her tail once at the sound of her name and then went straight back to her nap. I laughed. “I don’t know, Katherine. She’s a real handful. Of course, we’ll watch her. Dad won’t mind staying here on the nights I’m with Mom. The kitchen might actually get some real use for a change.”
Just the mention of food started a rumble in my stomach. “Speaking of food… I’m starving. Is there anything to eat?”
“I saw half of a large deli sandwich, if that sounds okay?”
“Yes,” I said, thinking that Connor must have already raided the fridge at least once if all that was left from O’Malley’s was half a sandwich. “That sounds amazing. And chips. And a banana or anything else you can find. It’s been at least twenty-four hours since I’ve eaten.”
Katherine started toward the door and then turned around, crossing back to the couch. She opened the cover of the book she’d been reading and took out a computer disk. It was sealed in a white disk envelope, with my name in large letters across the flap.
“I found this on the porch, right next to the door. I’m guessing it’s from Trey?” She walked back over to me and placed the disk on top of the computer. “I really am sorry about Trey, Kate. But I still think it was for the best.”
I closed my eyes until I heard the door shut behind her and then picked up the disk. I was pretty sure it was just the Cyrist financial information that Trey’s dad had promised to give him, but I held it against my lips for a moment before opening it. My hands weren’t very steady as I opened the envelope and placed the disk in the drive. I expected to see a file directory, but after a couple of seconds Trey’s face popped up, and my breath caught in my throat. He was wearing the same shirt that he’d worn that last night. His gray eyes were a bit red around the edges, and he looked dog-tired, but he smiled into the webcam.
“Hey, pretty girl. If you’re seeing this, you’ve successfully saved the world, just like I knew you would. And if you’re seeing this, I’m probably only a few miles away, but totally oblivious to the fact that I made this video and that the most beautiful girl in the world is watching it. But I’m missing you, Kate. Even if I don’t know it, I’m missing you.”
He took a deep, shaky breath and then continued, looking down at the keyboard and typing in a few strokes. “So—what follows is a brief video compilation of Trey and Kate’s greatest hits. All those nights when I’d come home and then we’d end up on a video chat for half an hour or more? Well, I saved them, all except that first time, ’cause I didn’t have the software yet. I don’t really know why I saved them. It’s not like I ever had a chance to rewatch them, since I was always with you. But they’re all here, on my hard drive. I’m going to burn them to disk, along with a couple videos I took on my phone and the ones we recorded at your party. Everything I can find. Oh, and if you check out the file directory, the stuff Dad promised is there as well.
“The DVD was Connor’s idea, so if it helps, we owe him big. It didn’t even occur to me, but he told me that anything I left there, with you, would be protected, just like the books are. You need to make a copy, once you’re back here, in the present. Or past, I guess. Ask Connor. He can explain it better than I can. I think this could work, Kate—this would be pretty hard to fake. I mean… I’d have to be incredibly dense not to recognize a message from myself, right?
“Here goes then—Lawrence Alma Coleman the Third, also known as Trey. If you have any doubts that this is you talking into the computer, I know what you did that Saturday afternoon when you were thirteen and Mom, Dad, and Estella went to that art gallery opening over on R Street. Never told anyone about that, did you?”
I smiled and made a mental note to ask him, one day, exactly what he’d done that Saturday.
“The girl who gave you this disk is Prudence Katherine Pierce-Keller, aka Kate the Time-Traveling Ninja. She has a few memories that you don’t. Maybe these videos will help bridge that gap. But really, all you need to know is this—she h
as the prettiest green eyes in the universe and very ticklish feet. She’s a sucker for Princess Bride quotes, onion rings from O’Malley’s, coffee—but not if Connor made it—and you’re so in love that you cannot imagine life without her.
“Now, back to you, Kate,” Trey said. “Find me, kiss me, and make sure I get this message. In that order. And hurry, okay? I love you—and I miss you already.”
He was still staring at the camera as the video faded out and shifted to one of the webcam shots, with my face in the big screen and Trey’s in a smaller inset window in the upper right-hand corner. We weren’t talking about anything, really—just an excuse to be together for a few more minutes before sleep. I clicked through quickly, knowing that I would go back later and watch every single minute. They were all there, in chronological order, as best I could tell. Every conversation, every silly joke, me painting my toenails while we talked, Trey offering me a bite of ice cream and dripping chocolate syrup on the camera.
I was laughing and crying at the same time when I heard a soft knock at the door.
Connor cracked the door and stepped in, carrying a large tray. “Should I come back?” he asked.
“No. You have food,” I said. “Don’t you dare leave.” I moved the computer to the other side of the bed and slid over to make room. “In just a minute, I’m going to start shoving that into my mouth as fast as possible, and it wouldn’t be polite to talk then, so let me say thank you first. For everything, but especially for giving Trey this idea. This is why he was able to let go, isn’t it? Why he stopped fighting me about staying here when I made the jump.”
“I suspect I would have had to evict him bodily otherwise, and he would probably have still camped out on the porch.” Connor smiled, shaking his head. “I thought he’d tell you himself, but maybe he didn’t want to jinx it. You’re going to need to make a copy of that disk—once you go back to before the last time shift. Make it here, at the house, and it should be okay. It’ll be a video from this time, but the disk—that will be in the same timeline as Trey, so… you should just be able to give it to him.”
I had the sandwich unwrapped and was already eating. “It won’t vanish? Or be blank?” I asked, with my mouth half full.
“Not as long as you make a copy,” he said. “I’m not positive, but I can’t see why it wouldn’t work. The diaries still work, right?”
I glanced down at the sandwich in my hand. “You’d better be glad that I’m too happy to be mad at you,” I said between bites. “This is Trey’s roast beef. Did you eat my pastrami?”
“Didn’t know if you were coming back,” he said. “Shame to let a good sandwich go to waste.”
I spent the next few days sleeping, eating, and recording everything that I could remember about the past month. Then I saved the files in a CHRONOS diary to give to Katherine and Connor, and backed everything up on a DVD to give to Dad and eventually, I hoped, to Mom as well.
By day three, the burn on my neck had faded to the point where a scalding cup of coffee actually could have been a possible cause. I dragged my Briar Hill uniform from the back of the closet and very gingerly pulled my hair back, being careful to hide the few bare spots near the nape of my neck.
I retrieved my ID holder—now short two photographs—from the dresser drawer. I’d eventually add new photos of Mom and Dad, but for now I put in a photograph that Connor had taken of me and Trey in the backyard with Daphne, and the picture of me with Charlayne, our arms around each other, grinning from ear to ear with our new belts—mine brown and hers blue—tied around our white jackets.
Both of those photos would vanish if I ever took them outside of a CHRONOS field. If Connor’s theory was right, I could always make copies later—and a vanishing photo might come in handy. Either way, the CHRONOS key was going to be a permanent accessory from now on. That was kind of annoying, since one of the reasons I’d agreed to this insanity was because I didn’t want the constant worry of what might happen if something separated me from the medallion. But given everything I’d been through over the past few weeks, being stuck with an odd piece of jewelry seemed like a small price to pay for a little existence insurance and an emergency exit option.
There were a few other items I couldn’t leave behind—like the necklace and T-shirts Trey had given me, even though I knew that I could never take them out of Katherine’s house if I wasn’t wearing them. I shoved the items into Katherine’s handbag along with the Book of Prophecy and the DVD that Trey had made.
It seemed a bit silly to be sad about saying good-bye to Katherine and Connor when I’d be seeing them in just a few minutes, but I was. They wouldn’t be the same Katherine and Connor. Our relationship would have to be rebuilt, and I could tell that they were thinking the same thing. I kissed them both, and gave Daphne a pat on the head. At least with her, I was pretty sure everything would be the same if I threw in a couple of dog treats and a few minutes of belly scratching.
And then I pulled up the stable point for Katherine’s foyer, set it for 9 A.M. on April 7th, and went back to my life.
Connor was surprised, to say the least, when I appeared without warning in the hallway. He was just coming out of the kitchen, wearing the same jeans and plaid shirt he’d been wearing when he’d rushed out to pay the cab driver after my backpack was stolen. He yelled for Katherine, and she came hurrying down the stairs in her red bathrobe. And then we all sat down on the couch, and Connor made the bad coffee. But instead of Katherine telling me her story, I told them mine—or at least enough specifics that they could play their parts for a few days. And Connor passed me the entire box of gingersnaps, instead of three measly cookies this time.
I borrowed Katherine’s phone to call Mom and tell her about the accident—nothing major, I said, just a scald. But I’d lost my backpack in the confusion. Of course, I started crying the moment I heard her voice on the other end of the line, but she mistook the tears for worry about the backpack.
“Kate, sweetie, it’s no big deal. I’ll cancel the credit card; we’ll get you a new phone and iPod. We’ll pay for the books. I’m not angry about this, so you don’t need to be upset.”
“I know, Mom. I love you.”
“Do you need me to come there, Kate? You sound really shaken.”
“No, no. That’s okay, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then I called the Briar Hill office and asked if they could give Dad a message—I’d had a minor accident and wouldn’t be in trig class, but I’d see him back at the cottage.
Connor drove me to the cottage a few minutes later. My hands shook as I slid the key into the lock, just as they had when Trey was waiting on the steps. There was no #1 Grandma mug. Dad’s wok was in its usual place on top of the cabinets. I rushed to the fridge, and saw the jambalaya on the second shelf.
There would be plenty of time to tell Dad everything when he got back from class. For now, I just sank down on the sofa and closed my eyes. Home.
Telling Dad was a multistage process, and the fact that I broke down into tears the first time I saw him didn’t help to expedite matters. At least Dad understood what was going on after a long conversation with Katherine and Connor and a few demonstrations with the CHRONOS key. He and I agreed that it was probably best, for now, to keep this between us. So Mom didn’t have a clue why I hit her with a waterworks display and extra long hug when she walked in the door after classes on Wednesday evening. That’s really not our typical style of interaction, and I think she was seriously considering scheduling another session with the shrink. I talked her into dinner at O’Malley’s instead. Extra onion rings.
Most pieces of my normal life fell back into place over the next few days. I returned to my typical routine of Mom’s house, Dad’s house, and school. The only major changes were packing up some of my things for the upcoming move to Katherine’s house and having to remind myself that there was no Charlayne for me in this timeline.
And I kept putting off the very thing I’d promised to do first.
Finally, on Sunday afternoon, when we were clearing away the dishes from a wonderful spinach lasagna, Dad suggested gelato for dessert. From Ricci’s, near Dupont Circle. Just a few short blocks from Kalorama Heights. Walking distance to Trey. My stomach sank.
Dad watched me a moment and then shook his head. “You can’t put this off forever, Kate. You said you made the boy a promise. Even if it isn’t exactly the same as the relationship you remember, it isn’t fair to Trey or to yourself not to give it a chance. And,” he said with a grin, “I’m getting tired of hearing you play that DVD. Did you two ever talk about anything remotely substantive?”
I snapped the dish towel threateningly in his direction, but I didn’t argue. He was right. I missed Trey. And there wasn’t any chance at all of getting him back if I couldn’t muster up enough courage to make the first move.
I sat on the front steps, staring at the neat border of grass that ran along the walkway between the house and sidewalk. I realized I was chewing on my knuckle about the time I heard the door open behind me and I tucked my hand underneath my jeans to hide the bite mark. The early-evening breeze picked up the faint, familiar scent of his shampoo, so I knew it was him before I even looked up to see those beautiful gray eyes with their tiny flecks of blue. His smile was as open and friendly as it had been that first day when he followed me across the soccer field. And suddenly I wasn’t nervous. This was Trey, my Trey. He just didn’t know it yet.
