With a brush in one hand and a can of hair spray in the other, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and tried to decide which hairstyle road to take.
"Your hair?" Katie asked.
"No. I mean your dream, silly. I'm still trying to figure it out."
"What's there to figure out? I dreamed I saw a boy in the oval mirror at the fair – a boy who looked just like Mike. I walked through the mirror to be with him, woke up, and heard you crying. I don't think the whole thing lasted five minutes."
"You really think that's what happened at the fair?" Ginny asked.
"I know that's what happened. It's the only thing that makes sense."
Ginny laughed.
"Why are you laughing?" Katie asked.
"It's nothing."
"You don't laugh over nothing, Gin. Spill it."
Ginny smiled.
"I just never thought I'd see the day when you dropped everything, including your precious skepticism, and did something reckless to hook up with a guy."
Katie flicked Ginny on the back of her neck with a finger.
"Ouch!"
"I didn't hook up with a guy. I just accepted his invitation to walk through a mirror."
Ginny laughed again.
"You accepted his invitation to visit la-la land. What did you think you were going to do when you got there, Katie? Saddle up a unicorn and ride into the sunset?"
"Stop it!" Katie said. "Or I'll mess up your hair."
"OK. OK. You have to admit it's kind of funny though. Boys in school had to work ten times as hard just to get your phone number."
Ginny looked at her twin and saw a sulking smile. She knew she was right. She had watched Katie put books above boys for nineteen years. The idea that she would throw caution to the wind and pursue a boy she had just met – a boy in a mirror, no less – was positively hilarious.
Katie sighed.
"I know. I don't know why I followed him. I just did. It seemed like the natural thing to do."
"It's no big deal, Katie. I do stupid things all the time."
"It is a big deal though. It's the reason we're here. If I had exercised common sense, we'd still be in 2020 getting ready for college."
Ginny tugged at her locks and shook her head. She didn't like where this hairstyling session was going.
"It doesn't matter now. We're here. We can't change what happened," Ginny said. "It is kind of weird, though, that the boy in the mirror was Mike. What are the odds of that?"
"You would think not very good. Then again, what are the odds we'd find ourselves stuck in 1964? I still haven't figured why we're here and not some other time."
"Don't even try to figure that out, Katie. You'll just work yourself into a lather. Then I will have to call the guys in the white coats. Let's just enjoy our time here and make the best of it."
Katie cocked her head and looked at Ginny closely.
"Speaking of lathers, you haven't said much about last night. Are you all right now?"
Ginny put the brush and the hair spray down and turned to face her sister.
"I'm fine," Ginny said. "I just had a little episode, that's all. I'm better."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive. I just have to find a way to focus on other things. So do you."
"I know," Katie said.
"By the way, what are you doing tonight? Watching TV?" Ginny asked. "I scanned the TV guide and saw that Lawrence Welk is on at eight thirty. Gunsmoke starts at ten. You can't beat six channels, Katie. I'm going to recommend this place when we get home."
Katie laughed.
"I'm not watching any TV. I have better things to do."
"Like what? Read Catcher in the Rye?"
"No," Katie said. "Something better."
"OK. You have my attention."
Katie smiled.
"I'm going out with Mike. He's stopping by after he gets off work at nine. We're going to go for a walk and then get some ice cream."
Ginny gave Katie a sidelong glance.
"Didn't you just go for a walk the other night?"
"Uh, huh."
Ginny turned toward her twin. She saw a puppy-love face she didn't like.
"You're not getting serious, are you? We have only four months here, Katie. We don't have time to be interlopers or whatever you called us the other day."
Katie put her hands on her hips.
"We're going out for ice cream, Gin – not running off to Vegas. Calm down."
"OK. I'm just checking. I want you to have fun, but not too much. We have to stay focused."
"You're one to talk," Katie said. "You've spent as much time with James at the store as you have with Steve on the phone. Are you planning to gift-wrap both and take them with us?"
"Of course not," Ginny said smugly. "I wouldn't think of taking just two. If I can't take three boys back to the future, I won't go."
Katie giggled. When she collected herself, she leaned against the doorway to the bathroom and took a long look at the girl in front of the mirror. She brought a hand to her chin.
"What's with the hair, anyway?" Katie asked. "You looked fine just the way you were. Now you look like Sandra Dee."
Ginny fluffed her locks with both hands.
"Don't you know anything?" Ginny asked.
"What do you mean?"
"When in Rome, you do as the Romans."
"Did the Romans spray their hair with DDT? Seriously, Gin, there are probably enough toxins in that can to fill a Superfund site."
Ginny smugly raised her nose.
"I don't care. It's how they do things here."
"When did you become a conformist?" Katie asked.
Ginny glared at her twin.
"I'm not a conformist," Ginny said. "I'm a pragmatist. Steve told me Thursday night that he has always liked this look. I'm simply adjusting to the times."
"That makes you a conformist."
"Whatever. Hand me a pin, please."
Katie did as instructed.
"When is Steve supposed to pick you up?"
"Six," Ginny said.
"It's six fifteen now. Do you think he stood you up?"
Ginny glared again.
"I'm just asking," Katie said.
Ginny looked in the mirror and saw silly hair and a face full of doubt. Maybe Katie was onto something. Maybe Steve had stood her up.
"You don't think he did, do you?" Ginny asked.
Katie gritted her teeth.
"OK. Now you're scaring me."
"He probably got a late start," Katie said.
"No. You're right. He stood me up."
"I was just teasing."
"It doesn't matter. He stood me up. I know it. I'm going to spend the rest of the night with Lawrence Welk and Festus. I . . ."
Ginny didn't utter another word.
A knock on the door took her breath away.
CHAPTER 19: GINNY
"I hope you know you scared me tonight."
"How's that?" Steve asked.
"I was sure you were going to stand me up," Ginny said.
Steve chuckled.
"I wouldn't do such a thing – not to you, anyway."
Ginny smiled at the hunk in front of her and reminded herself that her trip to 1964 was a bad dream from which she might never awake. Nightmares had never been so much fun.
"I hope not. I don't think my delicate system could handle it."
Steve laughed again.
"Like I told you on the phone last night, I've been looking forward to this all week. If I had known you were going to wear that dress and fix your hair that way, I'd have run some red lights."
Ginny beamed.
"You like my hair?"
"I do. You look better than Sandra Dee, my childhood crush."
Be still, my heart.
Ginny studied the man sitting at her candlelit table. Dressed in a white button-down shirt, a blue blazer, and light slacks, Steve Carrington looked like a millionaire on loan from the nearby yacht club.
She couldn't imagine a better date.
She gazed at him as long as she could, soaking up every second, until a waiter interrupted the blissful moment by plopping two menus on the table.
"I guess we should think about food," Steve said.
"Yeah. I guess we should."
Ginny browsed her menu, the one with fancy French words and reasonable 1964 prices, but didn't look at it long before putting it down. She was far more interested in her surroundings.
While Steve looked at his menu, Ginny scanned the dining room of Mon Refuge and made mental notes of almost everything she saw. She noticed two differences from 2020 almost immediately: nearly everyone was dressed to the nines and more than half the diners smoked.
The latter, she quickly concluded, was a clear-and-present problem. Among the million and one substances that triggered her allergies was cigarette smoke.
"Achoo!"
"Bless you."
"Achoo!"
"Are you all right?" Steve asked.
"I'm OK."
"Allergies, huh?"
Ginny nodded.
"It's the cigarette smoke. It really gets to me."
"If it's a problem, we can go to another restaurant. I'd be happy to take you."
Ginny shook her head.
"No. I'll be all right. I just need a minute to adjust."
"You probably deal with that a lot."
"Thankfully, no," Ginny said. "This is the smokiest restaurant I've ever been to. I've never seen this many people light up in one room."
"Don't people smoke in California?"
Ginny laughed as she thought of the places she could go with that question.
"Oh, they do," she said. "They smoke lots of things. They just tend to do it outside and in their houses. Most restaurants where I live don't allow it."
"I take it you don't smoke," Steve said.
"Nope."
"I don't either. My folks do though. I guess it's a generational thing."
Ginny put her menu aside.
"What do your parents do?"
Steve began to answer Ginny but stopped when the waiter arrived to take their orders. Ginny needed only a few seconds to decide that wine-poached salmon with black truffles sounded better than ratatouille and crepes. Steve went for the cognac shrimp with the Beurre blanc sauce. When the server left five minutes later, he resumed the conversation.
"Let's see, where were we?"
"You were going to tell me about your parents," Ginny said.
"That's right."
Steve sipped his water.
"Let me start with Dad. He's kind of a Renaissance man. He's an attorney and a real estate developer who also dabbles in politics. He's currently running for a state senate seat."
"Wow," Ginny said. "How about your mom?"
Steve smiled.
"She's busy, too, but in other ways."
"What do you mean?"
"She volunteers, advises, and tutors. If there's a cause to join or a needy person to help, she jumps right in."
"She sounds like a nice lady."
"She is," Steve said. "How about your family? Tell me about them."
Ginny sat up in her chair and folded her hands atop the table. She wanted to make the best possible impression on a young man who was getting more appealing by the minute. What she would tell her date about a family from fifty-six years in the future was another matter.
"They live in Thousand Oaks, as you know. My dad's a geologist who teaches at one of the local colleges. My mom stays at home and raises my youngest sister and three younger brothers."
"What are their names?"
"My sister is named Cindy. My brothers are Tom, Patrick, and Joseph."
"Those are good names – solid names," Steve said.
"Of course, you met my twin sister Katie on Saturday."
"You mean the one that thinks I'm a serial killer?"
Ginny blushed fifty shades of red.
"You heard?"
Steve laughed.
"I can read lips through rear-view mirrors."
Ginny brought her hands to her forehead.
"Ugh! I am so embarrassed."
"Don't be," Steve said. "I think it's endearing. She cares about you. I wouldn't want my sister hitching rides with strangers either."
Ginny sighed.
"Still, she didn't have to be so blunt."
Steve reached across the table and grabbed Ginny's hand, a gesture that turned the confident, independent daughter of Joel and Grace Smith to putty.
"I didn't mind," he said. "I still don't."
Ginny moved her hand farther into Steve's and began to wonder whether her stars had aligned. Steve Carrington was not only handsome and smart but also understanding, thoughtful, and kind. She knew right then that she would never give the two-timing philanderer known as Cody Williamson another thought.
For the next thirty minutes, Ginny wallowed in the moment. She coped with the smoke as best she could and focused on things that pleased her senses: the view of Lake Washington, Steve's smile, the soft music streaming from above, and the smell of the food. Dates like this, she thought, were as good as they got.
She loved talking to this man, though she didn't particularly like talking about herself. When you lived a lie, talking about that lie invited trouble.
"You mentioned college the other day," Steve said. "Are you and Katie still thinking about enrolling at the university this fall?"
"We are," Ginny said. We just haven't picked a year.
"That's good. I think you'd both do well."
Steve sipped some coffee.
"Have you thought about a major?"
"I'd like to get into marketing or public relations," Ginny said.
Steve chuckled.
"You should. You'd be a natural. With your face and personality, you could warm the image of even the coldest corporation."
"You think so?"
"I know so," Steve said. "I've met a lot of women in similar positions working for my dad. Most are very good at what they do, but none have a smile like yours."
OK. I surrender.
"Thanks for the encouragement," Ginny said. "I really do want to enroll. When I get the chance this summer, I'm going to spend some time on the campus and investigate the possibilities."
"Why wait until summer? Why not investigate the possibilities now while school's still in session?"
"I don't know. I wouldn't know where to start. I just got here, remember?"
Steve smiled.
"How could I forget?"
Steve rubbed his chin.
"I have an idea," he said. "When is your next day off from the grocery store?"
"I'd have to check the schedule, but I think it's Wednesday," Ginny said. "Why?"
"Why? I'll tell you why, Miss Smith. I'm giving you a tour of the campus."
CHAPTER 20: GINNY
Sunday, May 10, 1964
Ginny Smith, mesmerized, watched with unbridled awe as the young blond woman, wearing a cashmere sweater, a pencil skirt, and pearls, sang and swayed in a New York studio. Even through the dusty screen of a flickering black-and-white television, the time traveler could see that this lady had it.
"I want her hair," Ginny said.
"You want what?" Katie asked.
"I want her hair."
"You have her hair, Gin. It's just as blond and just as loaded with hair spray."
"Yeah, but it's not cut that way. I want mine cut that way."
"Then go to a salon," Katie said. "I'm sure Dusty Springfield went to a salon."
"Don't be silly. Ed Sullivan would never let a salon do a performer's hair. She has a bouffant bob, Katie. You don't throw that together at a salon. I'll bet Ed flew in a team from Paris. It's the only thing that makes sense."
Katie sighed.
"Paris? Really, Gin? That would be insanely expensive."
Sitting upright on Room 17's only bed, Ginny turned to her left and looked at her sister like she had just made the dumbest
comment in history.
"Of course it would be expensive! That's the point. Perfect hair is priceless," Ginny said. "I'm sure Ed did the same thing for the Beatles."
Katie smiled and shook her head.
"Whatever."
Ginny yawned.
"Speaking of the Fab Four, I saw them on a poster the other day."
"So?"
"It was a concert poster, Katie. The Beatles are playing here in August."
"Really?"
"Really," Ginny said. "Getting tickets may be tough though. Paula Benson is a big Beatles fan, and she said the only way people will be able to get tickets is if they have money, connections, or a desire to camp for two days outside the box office."
"You don't want to camp on a sidewalk for two days?"
Ginny smiled.
"Not unless I can choose my camping buddy."
Katie laughed.
"I take that to mean you had a good time last night. You still haven't told me much."
"I may not either," Ginny said. "I like to keep some things private."
"Oh, please," Katie said. "You're the most open person on the planet. If we were still in 2020, you'd have pictures of dinner posted on your blog already."
"OK, Miss Nosy Nelly. What do you want to know?"
Katie looked at her sister thoughtfully.
"I just want to know if you had fun."
"I did," Ginny said. She smiled and reddened. "I think I'm in love."
Katie's eyes grew large.
"What? Love?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's lust. What's the difference?"
"Plenty," Katie said.
"All I know is I can't stop thinking about him. Steve is perfect! He's kind and thoughtful and forgiving too. He even forgave you for calling him a serial killer."
"What?"
"It's no big deal. He knew you were kidding," Ginny said. "What's important is that he wants to see me again. He's giving me a tour of the campus on Wednesday."
"What if you have to work?"
"I don't. I already checked."
Katie tilted her head.
"Where did you go after dinner?"
"We drove around," Ginny said. "We considered going to his fraternity house but didn't go because workmen are painting the inside this weekend."
"So why didn't you come back here?"
"We didn't, Katie Lou, because I wanted to give you and Mike some time alone."
"We just went out for ice cream, Gin. What did you think I was going to do? Sleep with him on our third date?"
The Mirror (Northwest Passage Book 5) Page 9
