“I made jello surprise for dessert,” Rosemary announced once everyone was finished. She dabbed her lips with a napkin before standing up and brushing off her clean green dress. “Ya’ll stay seated, I’ll be right back.”
I knew I should offer to help, but I was nervous to disobey her instructions. Lillian followed Rosemary without being asked. Their whispers floated in from the kitchen, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I was left alone at the table with three men who were all looking at me for the first time since we sat down.
“Tell me about yourself… Annabella was it?” Herbert asked. His voice was rich and covered with that vintage southern drawl. He was an exact replica of Wren but scratchy and overweight from age. As he spoke, he looked as if he were trying to solve a 1000 piece puzzle. I was looking at him the same way.
“Oh… actually it’s Vanessa.” I flinched my head back slightly as I looked at him with narrow eyes. Annabella sounded nothing like Vanessa.
Herbert scratched his beard and apologized under his breath as if he were having a conversation with himself. His voice got more sure of itself as he spoke up. “Of course it’s Vanessa. A name that means butterfly suits a little beauty like you.”
“Thank you?” I stuttered starting at him wide eyed as I thought of Gina’s butterfly on the pier and the butterfly stickers stuck to my pink envelope. I had never looked for the meaning of my name, so I wasn’t sure if that’s what it meant or not. Regardless, it made no sense at all that Herbert knew such a random fact. I looked to Wren and Dean for answers, but they were looking at one another with equally questioning looks.
Wren glanced down at me and caught my plea for help. He wrapped his arm around my chair and cleared his throat. “Vanessa is a spectacular artist.”
“I’m not,” I said, shaking my head. Warmth rushed to my cheeks.
Herbert leaned back in his chair and tilted his head to the side. He turned to Dean then to Wren but landed back on me. “Dean, what do you think of this fine young lady?”
“Well, I like her just fine. I’ve only met her this once… and the one other time,” Dean said.
“And when was that?” Wren asked sitting up a little straighter.
I looked toward Dean with worried eyes. I wanted to move past the first night. I didn’t want anyone to remember me in jeans and a ratty t-shirt I’d had since eighth grade. I wanted to be looked at as I was now, a girl in a clean yellow dress.
Dean’s eyes apologized then shifted his focus above me at the sound of Rosemary and Lillian entering the room. They each had two glass dessert cups filled with fruit filled red jello and a dollop of whipped cream on top. They placed the glasses down in front of each of us, serving Herbert first and me last.
“Well, if this isn’t the nicest dessert I’ve ever seen,” Herbert gushed. “Are those pineapples?”
“You’re favorite.” Rosemary said, leaning down to kiss him on the head before taking her seat.
“Well, I certainly didn’t get this treatment while visiting John and Cynthia these past few weeks,” Herbert chuckled. He looked at me when the name John left his lips.
The jello in my mouth tasted sour, and I wished I could spit it out. John. My father. He was far from Port Swan, and was still best friends with the man my mother once loved.
j
As I stood on the front porch waiting for Wren to finish his chores, I watched as Rosemary and Lillian talked and cleaned up from dinner through the lit window. In another life, if Gina had stayed, it could have been us cleaning up in that very dining room.
In the still of the night the sound of waves crashing across the street met my ears like I was standing in front of them. I wanted to run up the dune stairs and down to the water to stand with my arms held out wide as the wind carried all my worries away.
A deep clearing of the throat startled me, bringing me back to reality. Herbert sat behind a dim yellow flame coming from the porch swing to my right, he held his feet firm so the swing wouldn’t move. “Tell me about yourself, Vanessa,” he said my name with question, as if I was only pretending that’s who I was.
I looked around to see if we were alone. Dean has already left and Wren was in the far distance walking with the trash over his shoulder. “Like I said, there isn’t much to know.”
Herbert puffed a few times allowing smoke to fill the air around him. He picked his feet up and scooted himself backwards making the rhythmic creaking of the swing cover up the sound of the ocean.
"What are you doing with my son?” He asked.
“We’re just friends.”
“You’re not the kind of girl that Warren sees as a friend.” Herbert said as he continued to swing and puff. “You’re a Marshall. Correct me if I’m wrong.”
My eyes darted to his. “You’re not wrong.”
“Of course I’m not. It was a given with your wide eyes and dark hair. What year did you jump from?”
“2019,” I whispered.
He shook his head in disgust. “You’re both going to get hurt.”
I walked across the wooden floorboard with fear as I sat down next to the man that my mother once loved. The man that could have very well been my father if Gina would have found him first. He looked at me the same way he had at dinner, like he was trying to figure out who I was. He may have known I was a Marshall, but he didn’t know I was Gina’s, not for sure.
“I’d never hurt him.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Herbert said. “You’ll be leaving in two weeks’ time, then what? What about Warren? He’s already fallen for you.”
“How do you know my secret?”
“Well, it’s not your secret now is it?”
“How do you know the secret,” I asked with harsh words, correcting myself.
“I’m a Davenport. Your family made it our job to know well over 100 years ago now.”
“But you didn’t know when Gina was here,” I said before I could stop the words from coming out of my mouth.
He stopped the swing as his sharp eyes ran over me. “Did you read that in one of your precious journals?”
I sat up straighter and clenched my jaw.
“Sweetheart, just because someone writes something down on a piece of paper doesn’t mean that’s the way the story went.”
He stood up from the swing, as if sitting next to me was causing him pain. A cloud of cigar smoke lingered around me as he walked away, leaving me on the creaking swing alone.
Seventeen
n
I kept the journals stashed inside of the window seat along with my backpack to keep them out of sight from Wren. I planned to stash all of my 1949 purchases in there when I jumped, in hopes that they would all be waiting for me in 2019.
Dear Luna,
My name is Vera Ann. I jumped on July 13th, 1908.
My daughter Louise jumped in moments before me. My heart aches knowing that the friendship we formed during her visit on Luna Time will never be anything more than a memory.
I’m anxious to meet the man I will marry, so that I’ll be one step closer to having her with me again. Louise told me his name is Benjamin and I’ll meet him when I’m 19, so I don’t have to worry about dating while I’m here.
In the morning, I plan to find out when I landed straight away in hopes to find her here.
Vera Ann
June 26th, 1983
Dear Luna,
I found Louise. She is living in a small but comfortable house on the end of our inlet. She welcomed me in with open arms and made a bed up for me to stay while I’m here. She is unmarried, and her only daughter passed away five years ago, her name was Jo. I can tell she is broken without her, but she has two granddaughters she is very fond of, both of which live next door. Dorothy and Liza.
“No,” I said out loud, throwing my hand over my mouth. “No, no, no.” Thirty-seven was too early for anyone to die, especially Jo. I threw the journal down on the ground, refusing
to believe what I read was the truth. After a few minutes of pacing the floor in the same small but comfortable house Vera Ann stayed in, I picked the open journal back up to find my spot.
1983 is a strange year, but I don’t feel unwelcome here. The air on the island feels carefree and loose compared to at home. I like the clothes and the way the girls wear their hair. I bought two dresses to wear in an attempt to fit in, both come above my knees! I feel naked in them, but I don’t entirely hate it. I think I’ll enjoy my visit very much.
Vera Ann
June 27th, 1983
Dear Luna,
I met Louise’s girls today. Dorothy is far more serious than young Liza, however, both are lovely. Dorothy is married to a man named Terry, and they have a young boy called Shane and a baby girl called Gina. I like their curly brown hair. It makes me feel like they’re partly mine.
Vera Ann
My family. A single tear fell from my eye. I wiped it away and continued on.
June 30th, 1983
Dear Luna,
When Liza isn’t around, Dorothy and Louise tell me all kinds of stories about the travelers in our family. Liza is only 14 and is at her friend’s houses more than she is at home, plus she doesn’t know the secret yet. She’s really quite hard to be around with the constant bad attitude she wears on her face, so I don’t mind her absence.
Vera Ann
July 14th, 1983
Dear Luna,
I spend most of my days watching Shane and Gina, while Dorothy and Louise garden. I get to hear endless stories of their lives, and I never grow tired of it. I think I’m going to live a good long life, but they don’t give me specifics. They say that my future is meant for me to enjoy, not attempt to piece together.
In the evenings when Luna’s light fills the sky, I sit outside and marvel in her magic. Once the kids are asleep, Dorothy joins me. Louise rarely comes out at night and when she does, she never looks at the moon.
Vera Ann
July 27th, 1983
Dear Luna,
I jump back tonight.
Last night Dorothy and I cried ourselves to sleep laying in Louise’s lap outside under the stars. She stroked our hair until we were asleep, just as she says I’ll do to her every night of her life.
I remembered the comforting feeling of Gina stroking my hair until I’d fallen asleep. A small act of love, and yet one strong enough to be passed down through generations.
I had no doubt that Dorothy had stroked Gina’s hair, and Jo had stroked Dorothy’s. I thought of the kind way Louise always spoke to Jo, despite her harsh tones with me, and was sure she did the same.
I know that there is a lot of good to come, but the thought of going back makes me hate that I ever came. I don’t wish traveling on anyone, not even my greatest enemy. The heartbreak it brings is worse than death.
Vera Ann
Knowing that I had to leave Jo and Wren did indeed feel worse than death.
Eighteen
n
In the chilly evenings when Port Swan was quiet, I would make my way down to the Swan Pier and sit with my legs dangling, tracing Gina’s butterfly with my finger while Luna watched over me. Over the weeks, I watched her change from a crescent to nothing and back to a crescent again. Oftentimes, I would stay until she was a white shadow in the soft blue morning sky.
But my favorite time spent with Luna was also spent with Jo. We’d sit on the 600 foot mark watching the early morning dark fade into a magnificent sunrise over the sea. Neither of us would say a word because we could both feel the magic of a new day.
During the mornings when Wren was working and Jo was at school, I would sit on the pier and paint. At noon, I’d meet up with Wren and help him pick grapes or pretend to read while I watched him pick. I would browse the lighthouse library and sit on the velvet green couch thinking about the secret behind the shelves. Being with Wren helped me remember to be the weather and kissing him tasted like fall.
We stayed away from most other people with the exception of Jo. She came to my house like it was her own everyday after school, and I liked it that way. In the afternoons we would ride in the back of Wren’s truck to the beach to take long walks looking for shells and dolphins. Wren would hold my hand or walk with his arm rested on my shoulder. Jo never laughed at the sweet things we said to each other or thought it was gross when Wren kissed me like he meant it. She only watched with eager eyes wishing for the day she would be loved.
I had given up my search for Gina for two full weeks because living was more interesting. The night I told Wren about her everything changed. I knew she was out there, but my gut assured me she wasn’t in 1949. I wanted to be like her, despite what Louise thought that meant. I wanted to be her daughter, and in two days, when the full moon lit the sky and I jumped back, my search would begin again. My heart would be broken from losing the only home I’d ever known, but the void would be filled with her. I was sure of it.
j
It was Wednesday, October 5th, the day of my 18th birthday and there were only three hours left until Wren would pick me up for our date. I was sitting on the pier by Gina’s butterfly as the cool breeze drifted up to me from the ocean. I looked out at the water with pain filling my chest; I didn’t want to leave.
“You’re right, she’s just like her mother,” I heard a man’s voice shout from underneath the pier. It was a voice I’d recognize anywhere, too similar to Wren’s not to. Herbert.
The salty wind whipped around my ponytail as I moved a few feet down to eavesdrop. I squatted down, trying to peek between the wooden boards. I couldn’t hear anything other than the crashing waves beneath me and occasional words which didn’t piece together to mean anything. Finally, I laid down flat, with my ear over a small space where two pieces of wood didn’t quite meet.
“Did Warren tell you that she bought a house?” A woman’s voice asked.
The wood was hot against my face, but I was numb to its heat in comparison to the cold fear that ran through me. My life was being discussed underneath a pier, without me being there to defend myself.
Dark brown hair and a blue dress was all I could see standing next to Herbert. The woman threw her head back to move her hair out of her face. Louise. She had her shoes off, making her look much shorter than she normally did. She was holding her blue shoes in her fingers as she allowed her toes to wiggle in the shaded sand.
“Who sold it to her?” Herbert asked.
“Owens,” Louise said. “She paid cash.”
I watched as Herbert walked around Louise in circles. “How much?”
“$5,000.”
“How does an eighteen year old girl have access to that much cash?”
“She’s not from here, there’s no telling how she got it,” Louise said. She threw her head back as she sighed. I rolled away out of her view, only to bump into the thick leg of a fisherman.
“Watch it, girl!” A fisherman I hadn’t seen before shouted. I put my finger up to my lips to shush him. He waved me off and moved a few feet down the pier. I crouched back down, crawling back over to the open crack. The topic had changed when I put my ear back down, but the subject hadn’t.
“She’s already traveled,” Herbert spat.
“How are you so sure?” Louise asked.
“I saw her in 1930 at my wedding reception. John was talking to a dark haired girl and I thought it was Gina, so I ran over. As soon as she spotted me coming, she ran. John said her name was Annabella. When Warren brought her home, it all came back to me,” Herbert said.
“This has to be her first time. She panicked to the point of fainting the day she arrived,” Louise said, walking closer to the water to put her feet in. “I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if Gina has made her way to you more than once. She jumps whenever she feels like it.”
I thought I was going to be sick. My stomach churned at the thought of my mother traveling as her career. I rolled down a few feet followin
g Louise’s movement, bumping my side into the thick legged fisherman once more. “Get out of the way. This pier is for fishing, and you ain’t got no pole.”
Herbert and Louise both looked up. I rolled on top of one of the wider boards so that none of me could be seen from below. I gave the drunken fisherman an evil look as he stepped over me and mumbled something rude under his breath.
“It’s not safe to talk here,” Louise said. “Meet me tonight at the lighthouse?”
“I’ll be there at eleven,” Herbert agreed.
A sudden hatred filled my mouth. Gina left me behind to spend her life jumping, when she should have been raising me. As much as I despised Louise, she wouldn’t leave Jo for anything, that much I was sure of.
Herbert walked away with the situation sitting heavy on his shoulders. Louise stayed on the beach looking for shells as the waves rolled them in and out. She admired each one she picked up and dropped it back down if it wasn’t to her liking, a small pile grew in the cup of her hand. I wondered what made her choose the shells she liked and what Jo would think of them when she brought them home. When her hand was full, she began walking toward home. I kept my eye on her until she disappeared into the shoreline.
Nineteen
n
In the middle of the second journal, a stack of papers slightly smaller than the notebook were stapled in. They were worn and yellowed and had doodles of flowers and moon phases all along the edges.
April 13th, 1873
Dear Luna,
I traveled from April 12th, 1979. My mother was always very excited for me to go on the grand adventure of being a Marshall, but she died six months ago. It was her dying wish for me to jump so I did, for her. My sister, Liza, is thirteen and is having a rough time with it. We don’t have a father, so the only family we have left is our Grandmother Louise. I’m already anxious to get back to them both and I just got here.
On Luna Time Page 10
