Which means some future version of me has already had a conversation with myself and helped me make specific, logical decisions.
I move my hand to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. This idea is so crazy, and it’s so possible, I wish I could just blurt out the whole theory to Jake and Wilkinson right now just so I can share it with someone.
I’ll have to make do.
“Red,” I whisper. “I figured it out. I understand it perfectly.”
Red lifts an eyebrow, but otherwise doesn’t stir. He’s right: we have to stay calm.
But that’s hard right now because the implications are so huge. It isn’t just that maybe I’ve sent some message to myself back from the future to help push me in the right direction—which means there is a future version of me who survives all this and knows how I did it. That alone is a thrilling and comforting thought.
It means something else, too. Something that matters to me almost as much. It’s tangible proof of something I don’t think I’ve ever had in my almost eighteen years of life: that maybe I can actually start trusting myself.
I’m so used to doubting that I know the way. Doubting that my instincts are right. Doubting that I’m capable of handling whatever’s thrown at me, because who am I? Just Audie Masters. No one special, just me. I’m used to feeling awkward and uncertain and self-conscious and afraid. I’m used to feeling like everyone knows better than I do how to move through life and make the right choices and figure it all out.
But if there really is a future Audie Masters who’s taking the time and trouble to send back possibility waves to me, or maybe even to visit me in the same way the two Dr. Venns used to visit their younger selves, then maybe I can finally start believing that my instincts, my intuition, my ideas are right. That I might actually know what I’m doing. That I can trust myself to find the way.
If that’s not worth having a party here in the back seat, then I don’t know what is.
I’m so giddy with the whole thing, I almost miss the landmark. I tap on the divider and motion for Jake to put in his ear button.
“I need to stop at that bank again. Please tell Wilkinson to go back.”
“Yes, Miss Markham.”
Because that’s one of my instincts right now: to help Daniel and Sarah and their parents in whatever way I can. It’s the least I can do for everything they’re doing for me.
The car stops and Wilkinson opens my door and I bound out into the rain. I don’t even bother with an umbrella. Red jumps out with me, and the two of us dash up to the money machine to withdraw another stack of icies. We return to the car with now both of my pockets bulging with paper.
I can barely sit still for the rest of the ride to Daniel’s. I have so much to tell him.
But I’m even more interested in what he has to tell me.
37
“Excellent,” Sarah says as soon as I walk into the kitchen. “An expert taster. Please judge these.”
As if that’s any great chore. I happily sample her sugar cookie with chips of homemade praline and a chocolate and praline version, too.
I close my eyes to savor every morsel. “Sarah … heaven.”
She smiles and gives me a little bow. “Thank you, Miss Markham. Two dozen of both should nicely round out the collection.”
She glances over her shoulder at her parents, who are both sitting at the kitchen table enjoying their cookies with tea while they go over a set of reports. Although “enjoying” might not be the right word, based on their expressions. They seem pretty engrossed in their conversation. Sarah motions with a tilt of her head for me to follow her out into the hallway.
“Nothing yet. I’m sorry,” she whispers. “Mum’s had me helping with the party food ever since I came home for school. But I promise I’ll do your assignment the moment I’m released from service. It shouldn’t be much longer.”
“That’s fine,” I say, although the truth is I’m disappointed. But I also know that everyone has their own lives to live. It’s not like they can drop everything to work on my problem day and night. “How’s it all coming? The party, I mean.”
“Splendid, if it isn’t until next week. Slightly frantic if it really is the night after tomorrow.”
“Can I help?” I ask.
“No, but thank you. Mum has her own particular way of fancy-cutting the sandwiches. I’m afraid it’s a secret she’s willing to share only with her beloved daughter. I imagine you’re terribly jealous. Please say so.”
“Very,” I answer with a laugh. Sarah always seems to be able to get one out of me, no matter how tired or worried or preoccupied I am. “But I was thinking I could help in another way.” I flash her the tip of tonight’s wad of money.
“Good gracious,” Sarah whispers.
“So could I pay for your father’s party? I’d really love to.”
“That’s Mum’s decision,” Sarah says, “but I shouldn’t think she’d agree. She’s very principled. And you are our guest.”
“A guest she’s very generous to keep housing and feeding, even though I could clearly afford a hotel. Should I try talking to her?”
Sarah shrugs. “You could. It might convince her we could afford to serve something slightly upmarket to the sandwiches.”
“Okay, I’ll try. Is Daniel home?”
“Upstairs. I’ll be up as soon as I can. I’m cooking dinner, too, while my parents go over accounts. Rather grim, I’m afraid. It’s their monthly ritual. In any case,” she says brightly, “tonight’s fare is my famous potato and leek soup. Hope you’re ravenous.”
“Starving. Thanks, Sarah. I’m so impressed by you.”
“Why, Miss Markham! How good of you to say so.” She gives me a little bow. “And you, sir,” she says, kneeling down in front of Red. “I would be pleased to serve you a redolent mixture of the house’s finest dog food.”
He may not understand the words, but understands the tone. Red gives her an enthusiastic wag of his tail. Sarah fluffs up his neck fur, then escorts him into the kitchen for dinner.
I’m tempted to follow. To plop a wad of icies in front of Francie and Sam and tell them they never need to worry about money again.
But I don’t want them to just reject it right away out of politeness or some sense of pride. I’ll have to talk to Daniel and Sarah later about the best strategy for getting their parents to say yes.
I climb the stairs.
Daniel answers at the first knock and gathers me in for a warm hug and an even warmer kiss. We have a lot to talk about, he and I, but I don’t see any reason to rush this part. I take my proper portion of kissing, then lean against him for as long as I want and let him hold me nice and tightly. It’s a restorative feeling. Even better than Sarah’s cookies.
Finally I peel myself away. “I don’t have a lot of time right now, unfortunately.” I explain about the interview. “So let’s just give each other the highlights for right now.”
I pull out my five sheets of paper to show him, then take off his wet coat and drape it over the chair. I take off my wet boots, too. Then the two of us sit on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, leaning against the wall.
“Okay, the short version,” I say. I use my notes to help organize my report. It would be so easy to run off on a tangent and not get to everything.
Daniel listens with intense interest. He asks only a few questions.
“Now you,” I say. “Go.”
Daniel takes a breath. “Right. Well, the timeline isn’t quite what we believed. We assumed from that footage of the conference that Professor Lacksmith was the only one who accepted the challenge. But there was another. He approached Dr. Venn after the conference and became the first to test the machine, ahead of Lacksmith.”
I take a guess. “Dr. Sands?”
Daniel nods. “You can imagine that after that disaster, Professor Lacksmith wasn’t so keen to try it himself anymore.”
“Oh, boy …” I close my eyes and slump a little more against the wall. That d
oesn’t seem like very good news. I was really hoping someone else tried Dr. Venn’s machine and lived to tell about it.
There’s a knock on the door, then Sarah comes in carrying a tray with three bowls of soup. Red angles past her to jump up on the bed.
Sarah hands Daniel and me our dinners, then sets the tray on his desk. “Do you mind if I listen? I’ve finally been released from my duties downstairs.”
I guess she’s not so worried anymore about me ruining the mystery. “Of course you can stay,” I say.
She sits in Daniel’s chair and all three of us take a minute or two just to eat.
“Mmm, delicious,” I tell her. “As usual.”
She smiles. “Thank you. I really would have made an excellent expedition cook, don’t you agree?”
“I do.” I’m tempted to tell her she might still have a chance if I find Halli tomorrow and somehow sort this all out, but since I don’t actually know if I can pull off either of those, I decide to keep that private hope to myself.
“So where does that leave us?” I ask Daniel.
“Quite a bit further than yesterday,” he answers. “Professor Lacksmith might not have braved the machine himself, but he’s been studying Dr. Venn’s results for years. He wasn’t too eager to tell me—apparently it’s been their secret—but once I explained my personal interest …”
“You didn’t tell him who I am, did you?”
“Not precisely,” Daniel answers. “I told him I’d met another person with similar experiences. I shared a very broad outline of how you and I met. Needless to say, he wanted to know far more. So we worked out an exchange of information. We spent hours at it.”
I glance at the clock. Quarter to seven. I’d rather be late than hungry, so I finish the rest of my soup.
“Okay, I told him one hour. I wish I didn’t have to do it, but if it gets rid of him once and for all …”
“Sorry, who?” Sarah asks.
“Bryan Stewart. That reporter.”
“He’s here?”
“At that inn where Jake is staying,” I say. “I told him he could have his interview with me tonight.”
“Can I watch?” she asks.
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind it if you’d come and watch Red for me. Jake will be there, too.”
“Both?” Sarah says with a smile. “Well, then.”
“Perhaps I should go instead,” Daniel says.
“Don’t you dare,” Sarah answers. “I am Halli Markham’s apprentice, am I not?”
“Oh, that reminds me,” I say, digging the wad of bills out of my pocket and handing it to Sarah.
Daniel frowns.
“Get over it,” I tell him. Then I kiss his cheek before hopping off the bed. “We’ll talk about all of this when I get back. You can look at my notes and see if those help.”
“Sarah, if you’ll excuse us for a moment,” Daniel says.
“As you wish,” she answers. She loads our empty bowls back onto her tray and leaves us alone.
Daniel wraps his arms around me. “Are you certain about this?”
“Certain I’ll be happy when it’s over. I need fewer people following me around. This one’s going to keep bothering me until I get rid of him.”
“But you’ll be impersonating her on camera while being questioned by someone who presumably has done his homework.”
I tap my head. “I have enough material in here to fill an hour. And I already told him I reserve the right not to answer any question I don’t like.”
“Reporters can be devious.”
“Not as devious as I am,” I say. “I’ve been lying for two lifetimes.”
38
The night is chilly, but at least the rain has stopped. I’m still wearing Daniel’s oatmeal-colored sweater and his same damp coat, but it’s only damp on the outside. Inside it’s cozy and warm. Red bounds ahead of Sarah and me, sniffing everything that’s been freshened by the rain.
Sarah threads her arm through mine. “I like you for my brother.”
“Okay,” I say with a laugh. “Thank you.”
She rests her head against my shoulder for a moment. “Do you think you’ll stay?”
“Stay? I … honestly don’t know.” And it is honest, since I’ve barely given myself the chance to think beyond these next few days.
“I know it might be difficult,” Sarah says, letting go of me so she can bury her hands in the pockets of her coat. “I can’t imagine having to pretend to be someone else for so many hours a day, but you’d always with safe with us. We could even tell my parents—they wouldn’t mind, you know. They’d actually be very excited.”
“I know, Sarah. And I feel bad keeping it from them—they’ve always been so nice to me. It’s just for now, you know? Until I see how everything works out.”
“But then … I mean, if you do sort it out …” She turns to me and I can see just enough of her face in the light of the street lamps to see the hopefulness there.
“I don’t know,” I tell her again. “I’m just being honest. I really don’t know what my future holds.”
“Yes.” She nods. “Of course you don’t. I’m sorry for pressing. I used to be the same with my dolls. I’d squeeze them so hard because I loved them so much. Then I wouldn’t understand why their limbs fell off so easily.”
“Okay, I’m drawing the line at that.”
“Please do,” Sarah says. “It’s dangerous.”
Jake is waiting for us outside the inn. Red lets his feelings about that be known.
“Hello, Jake,” Sarah says with a smile. She turns to me. “I’ll take Red around to the side for now, shall I?”
“No, we’ll all go inside,” I say. “It’s too cold out here. You and Red can wait in the entryway again.”
I’m about to head toward the door when Jake pulls me back. “I need to talk to you first.”
“Okay.” I step back a little so he has to release me.
“I wanted to apologize. You were right about what you said earlier. I should have done my job better and made sure Bryan didn’t bother you. I’m sorry about that.”
I shrug. “It’s done. Let’s get this over with.”
“I wanted to tell you something else,” Jake continues. “Sort of in my own defense. I did keep your father from interrupting you with Dr. Venn.”
I keep my expression perfectly neutral. “Oh? When?”
“This afternoon,” Jake says. “Over lunch. He’d heard from one of those professors you were supposed to have an appointment with that you hadn’t shown up. He wanted to confront you about that himself.”
“So what happened?”
“I talked him out of it,” Jake says. “I told him it would be better if we came to see you at the end of the day.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t like it, but he agreed. Then you … handled it another way.” Jake smiles. “Very well, I’d say.”
I’m waiting. But he still doesn’t explain why he felt it necessary to show Halli’s father the invitation from Sarah, or why Halli’s father was so chummy with the way he patted Jake on the shoulder. Something about the whole thing still doesn’t seem right. But Jake is done with his confession.
“It’s cold,” I tell him. “Let’s go in.”
I lead the way. Jake follows, then Sarah waits until we’re into the lobby before going in with Red.
“I’d appreciate if you’d have someone bring Sarah some hot tea,” I tell Jake.
“Of course. Right away.”
While he goes to speak to the woman at the front desk, I survey the scene in the sitting area to my left.
Bryan is using a larger binocular camera tonight, mounted on a tripod. He’s set up lights behind two flowery chairs angled to face each other. There are other people standing around, maybe guests waiting for some excitement. Bryan sees me and heads over.
My pulse picks up. Suddenly I’m not so sure I can pull this off.
“Ready?” Bryan asks.
“Sure.”
He pulls out a small container of powder and a fluffy brush, and gives my face a little dusting. “For the reflection,” he tells me. “I have some other things in my kit if you want to add some color before we start.”
“I happen to like this face. Just as it is,” I remember Halli telling my friend Lydia as Lydia tried to put makeup on her before the ball. I feel the same way about Halli’s face. I accept the powder, but that’s it.
Jake has returned from his errand. He draws me aside again. “It’s not too late. If you want to cancel this whole thing.”
And this must be the Halli in me: just someone telling me I don’t have to do something or I shouldn’t do something is enough to make me feel stubborn about going through with it. Defiant.
I sit down in one of the chairs.
“Did you bring the dog?” Bryan asks.
“Yes.”
“I’d like him in the picture, if you think he’d do it.”
I can tell from his face that Jake doesn’t like the sound of that. Which again makes me want to do it.
“Sure. I’ll have Sarah bring him in.”
“Sarah’s here?” Bryan asks. Look at that eager smile. Sarah leaves a lasting impression.
“Jake, can you send someone to go get them?”
“Hello there, stranger,” Sarah says when she comes in and sees Bryan. “Did you miss me?”
Bryan looks flustered. It’s possible he even just blushed. Good. Sarah might be exactly who I need to throw Bryan a little off his game. I think I might need every advantage.
Bryan clears his throat. “If you could bring him over here, Sarah. Thank you.”
“Certainly,” she answers cheerfully.
“Come here, boy,” I say, and Red trots over on his own. Bryan is still too busy staring at Sarah to notice. “I only have an hour,” I prompt him.
“Yes,” he says. “Right.” He clears his throat again. I glance at Sarah and give her an approving smile. Jake has retreated into a safe corner of the room, well outside Red’s danger zone.
Parallelogram Omnibus Edition Page 85
