Time and Space Between Us

by Diana Knightley

  He chuckled. “Then there was nothing tae do but enter the palace for our audience with the king and queen. The entire time I was shifting and writhing as pebbles crawled down the inside of my shirt. A few were in the back of my breeches, some down my legs, and as I bowed in front of King William and Queen Mary, three small pebbles rolled from the bottom of my breeches tae the floor.”

  “Oh my god, were you mortified?”

  “I was, but the queen merely laughed. She asked me what other gifts I had brought. I had nae answer, and had been warned nae tae say a word, so instead I went red-faced and my uncle had tae apologize for my state.”

  “Oh, that must have been awful!”

  “The way home my uncle wanted me tae tell him how the pebbles came tae be inside my pants and I refused tae tell him. He did nae trust me much after that, but my cousins would follow me anywhere.”

  “That’s a nice story.”

  He laughed. “Tis — unless I need my uncle’s help someday.” We both laughed. “Now ye owe me three things.”

  “You’ve already seen my biggest thing to tell.”

  “Tis the most shameful thing, nae the most important, if ye daena let it be.”

  “True, okay, how about this — I used to make movies, whole stories. I would create a script, convince a couple of friends to come over, and pull out a box of dress-up clothes. We would act it out, and I would film it. One of the main reasons I adored Hayley. She would be my lead actress and took it all very seriously.”

  “Much like a play.”

  “Exactly. I’ll show you one someday. They were very silly.”

  “Okay, two more things.”

  “I took ballet when I was a little girl.”

  “The French fancy dancing?”

  “Yep,” I spun away and performed two mediocre leaps and very sandy pirouette, but I ended in a perfect pose.

  Magnus dutifully said, “beautiful.”

  Then I had to come up with a last thing. I thought for a few moments before I said, “My grandmother has Alzheimer’s.”

  He looked quizzical.

  “It’s a disease that takes memories away. My grandmother, Barbara, can remember me as a child, my mother as a child, but when I talk to her now, I have to remind her who I am. It’s really hard because until about three years ago she was my favorite person in the world to talk to.”

  “Tis a tragedy.”

  We came to our boardwalk. I climbed a step and turned to face him. “It is. She used to be such a sparkling, funny person. And so smart. She and my grandfather were university professors. They were always reading and learning something knew. I thought they were the smartest people in the world, and if they gave me advice I followed it, because they were always right. Now she doesn’t even know who I am most of the time. It makes me wonder why our brains would do this? It’s so unfair to keep some memories, but lose others, to have these terrible gaps.” My voice caught in my throat. “What must it be like to suddenly not remember a person, someone you used to love?”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “Where does your grandmother live?”

  “In Maine.”

  “How far away is it?”

  “Thousands of miles. I usually fly when I go to see her.” I added, “In an airplane,” because his brow furrowed familiarly as he tried to work out what I really meant.

  “Maybe she is nae meant tae be so far away. Her memories might be fainter than before, but if ye were nearby she winna have tae peer so far back tae remember ye.”

  “That’s a good point. We thought it was better for her to be in her home, but it might be time for her to move…” I leaned on the railing and looked up into Magnus’s eyes, his were concerned. “I’m sorry I brought the whole mood down.”

  “Talk of our family is important. It may as well happen during a walk on the beach than anywhere else. But this story ye have told me is of your grandmother. I still get tae hear one more thing of you.”

  “I love to cannonball off my grandma’s dock in Maine. I was the—“

  “Cannonball?”

  “Yes, you jump, grab your knees, tuck your whole body like this, and plunge into the lake. I would do it over and over and over again, just taking a moment to eat and then doing it again and again.”

  “How auld were ye then?”

  “Ten.”

  “Ah, I can see it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’ve never seen a cannonball jump, an American lake, a dock, a Maine summer, or a ten-year-old American girl in a bathing suit. I seriously don’t think you have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  He chuckled. “I am imaginin' my cousin Mary, jumping into Loch Awe in her full gown, and aye, she has now slipped on the ice, fallen through, and frozen tae death. I suppose I might nae have a clear picture.”

  “We’ll go someday, me and you.”

  “And then I shall see our children jump off the dock.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Do you do that on purpose?”

  “What?”

  “Say things about our future and love and our family as if it’s easy for you — to suddenly be married and thinking about forever with me.”

  “Tis the easiest thing in the world. Nae for ye?”

  “I just spent two months wondering if I’d ever see you again. I’m a moment from saying goodbye. It’s hard to get past how sad I know I’ll be in a few hours when you’re gone.”

  In answer he put his arms around me and held me tight to his chest until finally after long moments we turned to walk back to our house.

  Chapter 10

  At about two in the morning I heard quiet sounds from the kitchen. I felt on Magnus’s side of the bed. It was empty. I pulled on a t-shirt and pajama bottoms and crept into the living room. Magnus was sitting at the kitchen counter while Zach and Emma were washing our dishes and straightening up from our earlier meal. They were telling Magnus about their evening out.

  It was a lovely domestic scene, warm and comfortable, and it came to me finally, truly, how hard it must be for Magnus to leave. This was his home now. I could see it in the casual comfortable curve of his wounded back. Wounds that had been inflicted in his past. He was talking to Chef Zach, his second most favorite person in the world. He was hours away from leaving, yet up, sitting in the kitchen, talking a last long goodbye. I joined him at the counter.

  Zach greeted me with, “Flavor?”

  I chose chocolate chunk with drizzled caramel. My bowl held two enormous scoops. Magnus’s bowl held a gigantic banana split. He face was covered in a wide grin. “I have asked Chef Zach tae surprise me with ice cream and he created this masterpiece.”

  Zach said, “Hopefully, this will tide you over while you’re away.”

  “I wish it were so, but tis impossible tae tide m’self when I’m surrounded with dry bread and porridges. I’ll miss ice cream a great deal.”

  “When you return, we should make it. I’ll get a churn and you can see the magic of it.”

  Emma said, “Ooh, or one of those balls. You make ice cream by rolling a ball back and forth.”

  Zach said, “Definitely, when you come home we’ll have an ice cream party.”

  Magnus and I ate our dessert and listened to stories about the Greene family dinner they had just attended. Apparently it was awful, Zach and Michel’s parents were putting the pressure on Michael to marry Haley.

  I said, “Real pressure, like in the middle of dinner?”

  “Yep, telling him to get real and marry her already.”

  “Haley must have been freaking out.”

  Magnus asked, “But nae ye, Chef Zach? Ye haena married Emma. . . ”

  Zach said, “Well… about that. You see, we aren’t getting married, but she’s um, pregnant.”

  Magnus jumped from his chair. “Congratulations! Twill be a bairn! Tis braw, verra braw.” Magnus swept Zach up into a manly hug and then Emma. Then I hugged Zach and Emma and joked that Emma should be eating the ice cream instead of me.

>   She said, “Ugh, I can’t keep anything down right now.”

  Zach said, “I know this complicates things — we live here rent free, and a baby is — we’ll look for an apartment nearby, but we would like to continue to work for you, Magnus, sir.”

  Magnus scowled. “I canna understand your words Chef Zach, you art a member of my family. Do I nae pay ye enough?”

  Zach said, “You pay me plenty. I just—“

  Magnus squinted and shook his head. “In the Highlands if a man lives on the land of another, he is as family. I winna force ye tae leave because of a baby. Tis madness tae suggest it.”

  I put a hand on Magnus’s arm to stay him. “What Magnus is saying, I believe, is that you, Emma, and the baby, are all welcome to continue living here. If you want to. If you think you’d rather have your own private home, we will help in any way. Magnus would, of course, like it if you can feed him ice cream in the middle of the night, possibly forever, but you might need to feed a baby in the middle of the night instead. You and Emma can think of this as your home, but talk it over and do what you think is right in the long run. Also, do you have health insurance through the temp agency, and is it good enough? We might need to go ahead and make you a full-time employee. I’ll research the smartest way to handle that.” I grabbed a pad of paper and started a list, my third of the day.

  At the end of our middle of the night snack, Zach and Emma departed for their bed and Magnus and I went to our room. But it was hard to think about sleeping even though it was very late, or early, depending on your perspective. He climbed into bed, held up an arm, and I curled up under it. And we talked.

  He began with, “What did ye mean when ye said ‘health’ tae Zach?”

  “Health insurance, it pays the medical bills for the hospital care. It’s kind of confusing, but it’s the employer’s duty to provide it.”

  “Aye. I would like for Chef Zach and Emma tae have it, whatever they need. Do ye believe they need bigger rooms?”

  “Probably, we could give them Lady Mairead’s rooms, they’re much bigger.”

  “Aye, and health assurance. We pay them enough?”

  “He says we do. I don’t think they were able to get married before, and now they can. I think it’s good.”

  “Quentin as well, he is a good man. I would like him tae have health assurances as well.”

  “Of course.”

  “There is enough money?”

  “I was going to ask you about that. There are paintings, in the office. I think they belonged to Lady Mairead, I was thinking about getting them appraised — do you know where they’re from?”

  “She journeyed for them. I would assume they are verra valuable. She studied a great deal.”

  “Okay, I’ll locate an art dealer then.” I twisted the cloth of his shirt around my index finger. “Magnus?”

  “Aye?”

  “My phone number is 310-499-2398. Can you repeat it back to me?”

  He did.

  I made him repeat it four more times. “You know your address here?”

  “Aye. But why do ye want me tae know of this?”

  “Because wherever you come back to, I want you to be able to find me. If you end up anywhere in the world, ask someone to call me for you.”

  “What if tis a different time?”

  What if it was a different time?

  “Do you remember my maiden name?”

  He repeated it, “Kaitlyn Sheffield.”

  I traced a circle around on his chest. Connecting the dots, building a map to find me. “I was born in 1995. I lived with my parents here in Fernandina beach, Florida, until I was 18. Then I moved to Tallahassee Florida and went to college. In 2014 I moved to Los Angeles, California. I lived there until this summer, 2017.” I tried to think of what else I could tell him, to solidify it in his mind. It was simply abstract dates and names, no way to reference it for him.

  “My parents, Paige and John Sheffield have lived here since 1990. My grandparents, Jack and Barbara Sheffield, live in Orono Maine. Can you remember all of this?”

  “I will.”

  “Good.”

  And we lay there — I reminded him of numbers and dates and told him histories of my life and the others close to me. He repeated softly spoken assurances that somehow, journeying through space and time, using a technology he didn’t understand — he would find me again.

  The guy from the 1700s. The early 1700s. Born in the 1600s, would find me.

  Though he couldn’t even grasp the tech of a cell phone.

  Though FaceTime freaked him out.

  He promised me he would. In the softly growing light of a sunrise sky through our wall of windows on his last night in September 2017 — he promised me.

  Chapter 11

  We woke slowly and made love quietly, spooned together. That lovely kind where you barely wake but caress and cajole and crave and cuddle through it. No acrobats, no heroics, just slow and simple, wrapped around him within his arms sweetly moving against and with. When we finished, he held me tightly for a long time without words just breaths along my neck, his heartbeat against my back.

  I didn’t need to hear what he couldn’t say. It would break my heart to hear it. And it would break him to speak it. I understood it now. How hard it would be, and all I could do was try to help.

  When we finally broke the embrace, he rose and sat on the edge of the bed. I checked his back. It looked even better and after applying some new bandages, he left our bed and began to set aside a few things to take with him. He placed a prescription ointment and some antibiotics in his sporran.

  I wondered if that had ever in the history of man happened before?

  He laid out his clothes, a kilt and shirt, his cloak, a pair of leather shoes. Everything had been mail-ordered from a site Emma found and matched what he was used to wearing almost perfectly. The kilt was a single color, deep green, because the only tartans the website carried were associated with clans the Campbells had been feuding with Magnus’s whole life.

  While he laid out his clothes, I sat on the bed, watching and talking.

  I said, “I have the photos of the vessel, the numbers written down, I’ll try to figure out how to work it. All you have to do is come back here and I’ll have answers when you do. Just come back.”

  “Aye. Kaitlyn, I will come back. You know I mean tae.”

  “Repeat to me my phone number, my full name, where I lived just before I moved back here. The date I was born.”

  He repeated it all perfectly, and we went to the kitchen to eat the goodbye breakfast that Zach had made.

  Chapter 12

  Debbie from Amelia island stables arrived just after breakfast to drop off Magnus’s horse, the horse trailer, and truck we rented for the day. It would be my first time driving a truck with a horse trailer, and I thought about asking her to do it for us, but Magnus and I needed to do this alone.

  It would be difficult enough to explain that the horse and Magnus were gone when I returned.

  While Magnus washed up after breakfast, I tore a strip of leather, about a foot long, off the sheath of one of Magnus’s practice swords and carved my initial, K. I wrote 310. . . and the rest of my phone number. It looked terrible, not well-crafted at all. I took a sharpie pen and wrote the number better on the inside and then carved a heart at the end of the number. It was a panic move. I was flailing for ideas. I wished I had engraved his ring with it. Or gotten him a tattoo. Or sewn it into the seam of his kilt.

  When he emerged from the bathroom, I showed it to him sheepishly. He nodded and I tied it in a knot around his left wrist. He put an arm around me, pulled me in tight for a hug, and then we looked around the room for anything else he might need.

  He was dressed in his gear, cloak over his shoulders, sword on his back, dirk at his hip, sporran at his waist. His leather shoes. His prescription meds. I remembered he should have a photo. Hayley had framed the photo of the two of us, leaning together the night of our wedding surround
ed by the feast. I was in my wedding dress; he was in his wedding suit. We hadn’t touched beyond the Handfasting of the wedding, but already we glowed. It looked very much like we were in love.

  I could easily print another. I pried the back of the frame and peeled the photo from the matte. I folded it small, careful not to crease our faces. He opened the sporran and I stuffed it in. I glimpsed the vessel nestled inside — ready to be used.

  He said, “We should go I think.”

  “Yes, it’s a two hour drive.” I grabbed my keys and purse and we headed to the driveway.

  * * *

  Debbie walked us around the trailer, the truck, and explained all the odd things that might go wrong, then she left.

  Quentin met with Magnus and received his last orders.

  Zach and Emma stood on the driveway to say good bye. I climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Magnus opened the passenger side door, a second away from climbing in — then he turned, looking over his shoulder, past the house, toward the beach.

  When I followed his gaze I saw it, storm clouds, rising roiling rolling out over the sand.

  I said, “Magnus?”

  He continued to watch the sky, body tense, his expression focused. I asked again, “Magnus?”

  He glanced at me across the seat, “I may need tae—“

  “The horse, you need the horse and the—“

  He turned and ran, fast, under the house, sprinting toward the dunes. His cloak rippling behind him. His arm reaching over his shoulder to unsheath his sword.

  “Oh my god, oh my god,” It took me two tries to work the dumbass door handle, crash it open, and spill out of the truck to the ground.