by Cate Lawley
The door opened to reveal a much scragglier version of Devlin than she’d yet met. Dark stubble covered his chin and jaw, but when the light hit it just right she could see a few silver hairs. He had a T-shirt on, but it had at least three holes. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was wearing boxer shorts.
He scratched his jaw. “I’d apologize, except it’s too early for any reasonable person to be dressed. So you get me as I am at—” He glanced over his shoulder. “Seven forty.”
“Right. I get it—magic’s a thing. It exists. It’s here in the world with us.”
That perked him up. Suddenly Devlin looked very awake, so she marched forward with her list. She’d rehearsed it on the way over, but she was worried she’d forget something.
“Here are my concerns. First, if we were such a great couple, why did we break up in the first place? Also, just because we were great back twenty years ago, who’s to say we’re a good match now? And even if we’re eminently compatible, how could we ever work when you have access to all of this shared history that is a complete blank for me?”
Devlin wasn’t grinning, but his eyes were smiling. And she couldn’t help but find that utterly charming. Which annoyed her, because she was on a mission.
“So?” she asked.
“I was waiting to make sure you were finished. Your parents, a relationship strained by distance over several years, and some wild miscommunication that I never understood.” He held up his index finger. “Glenda told me that we’re compatible, and she’s a very talented seer. That gave me the courage to try to reconnect—although I was already pretty determined—and once I met you I just knew.” He held up two fingers. “And I have a plan to get your memory back.” He held up three fingers. “I think that covers it?”
She drooped, but only from released tension. Everything he said sounded feasible to her. “I guess until I have my memory back I won’t know about the first question, and seers are little off my radar, but I’m game to hear that plan.”
“Would you like to come in? And since that gorgeous pie you brought over disappeared with Tara, maybe you’d consider making some coffee and digging around in the fridge while I get dressed?”
She tried to blink innocent, not-pie-stealing eyes at him. “Sure. I can make coffee.”
Chapter 18
Devlin fidgeted on Felicity’s sofa. The reunion was this evening, and Devlin’s stress-level easily topped his most difficult court appearance, his worst reaping day—including the fiasco with Tara’s predecessor—and even the last days of his marriage. The stakes this evening were too high to fail, and that was a terrible place to be when he was gambling.
He still had feelings for the girl he’d been engaged to all those years ago, but he also had developed feelings for the woman he’d come to know over the last month. He wanted the chance to get to know her better, to fall in love with her all over again. And that wouldn’t happen if they couldn’t pull off this time travel trip tonight.
It wouldn’t be long now. He’d arrived a little early at Felicity’s and Tara had let him in as she’d left. He was surprised the two women had become so friendly, but glad. Tara needed as many friendly faces and as much support as she could find.
Felicity called from the back of the house, “Almost ready.”
She and Tara had made a trip to The Goode Witch Shoppe for her dress. Apparently Glenda had been absent, which was a shame. He would love for the two women to meet. But that meant that Tara had been her only shopping buddy. He was certain Felicity would look lovely in anything, but Tara’s taste ran to leather jackets, skinny jeans with holes, and Converse. One could only wonder at what the two had come up with.
“Can I get you a drink? You don’t look so good.” Felicity swept into the room wearing a gorgeous navy dress. Either vintage or of vintage design, it hugged her like a second skin.
“You can pick your jaw up off the ground—but thank you.” She spun around. “It’s called a wiggle dress, if you can believe it.”
Devlin stood up belatedly. “Yes, I can absolutely believe it. You look stunning.”
“You don’t think the hair and make-up are too much? I thought it would be fun to do a vintage do with the dress, and Tara is surprisingly handy with a curling iron.”
He was speechless. He couldn’t tell her she’d asked the same thing when he’d picked her up for homecoming so many years ago. He just shook his head.
“All right then, let’s go.” Whether it was intentional or a subconscious gesture, she reached for her sapphire ring and twisted it on her finger.
She grabbed her clutch from a side table, and they headed out the front door together.
Felicity knew Devlin was worried. He didn’t show it, but she knew. And quite honestly, he had more invested than she did. He had their shared history, and she had a few weeks.
Sure, she might never find another nice guy. And while she’d accustomed herself to the idea of being alone, the idea of finding someone who loved her for who she was, someone who didn’t want to change her, that was a heady thought. And add to that the fact that the someone was a handsome, kind, somewhat conservative but incredibly generous man who was also a wonderful father and exceptional company...
Okay, she had a lot invested in this night, because she had a lot invested in him.
As he parked the car, she realized—it didn’t matter. Whether she got her memory back or not, it didn’t matter. She was willing to give them a chance. She was willing to give him a chance.
“Devlin, you are such an incredibly nice man.”
He took the keys out of the ignition and gave her a curious look. “Is this you damning me with faint praise?”
“No. Nothing could be further from the truth.”
Before she could reconsider, she leaned over and kissed him. Briefly their lips met and their breath mingled. He leaned closer and gently cupped the back of her head, and that brief kiss became something more.
She pulled away, out of breath and flushed.
Their eyes met, and he said, “I’m not complaining, but why now?”
“Because I believe in Glenda.”
He grinned and she knew he’d understood. She didn’t know Glenda from the next little old lady walking down the street, but she believed that they had a shot together. A real chance at love.
“All right. Are you ready to take a trip back to 1986?” He was grinning like a little kid.
She couldn’t help but reciprocate; his excitement was contagious. “I have no idea, but let’s do it.”
They entered the school arm in arm, in part because she’d chosen three inch heels and hadn’t realized how unaccustomed she’d become to walking in anything so impractical, but also because it felt nice.
He pulled out his cell and checked the time.
“Are we on schedule?” As she understood it, Glenda had planned for them to take their trip shortly after their arrival.
“Yes. We even have a few minutes to mingle, although that’s a little awkward on my end given the circumstances.” Devlin glanced around with some curiosity, but he quickly returned his attention to her. “Or, if you like, we can dance.”
A loud pop song played in the background. Before she could decide if her heels were up to eighties pop music, a woman with an elegantly sleek chignon, flawless skin, and a trim figure approached. She was wearing a champagne evening suit made of raw silk, and she could have been thirty or fifty. Like most bone-deep, beautiful women, she defied time.
Devlin leaned in and air-kissed her left cheek. “Felicity, this is Glenda. We weren’t expecting you. I thought you were casting from afar.”
“So very good to meet you finally.” Glenda shook hands with Felicity, and she seemed genuinely pleased. She leaned close and said, “An exceptional choice. That dress could not look better on anyone else. I would have sworn it was made for you.”
Felicity wasn’t sure how to take that, because this was Glenda. The Glenda. Maybe that meant that the dress had been made for
her. Who knew? “Thank you. I love it. And your store, too: it’s fabulous.”
Felicity kept turning to look at her over and over again. Glenda couldn’t have been further from the little old lady Felicity had imagined. She wasn’t even sure where the image had come from, but it was unnerving how different reality was from her imagination.
“So, I’m here to ensure everything goes to plan. I’ll just mingle in the background while the two of you have a good time. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of everything.”
She murmured another thank you before Devlin steered her away. Trying not to sound ungrateful, she said, “I’m not sure how she expects us to not worry and to focus on having a good time with everything that’s going on this evening.”
Devlin swept her onto the dance floor. “Let’s try.”
She hadn’t even heard the change from eighties pop to country, but they were two-stepping before she could think about the fact that she didn’t know how. Devlin was a strong lead, so she didn’t give it much more thought.
They’d danced a waltz, and a few slow songs when her feet started to hurt a bit. She leaned close and said, “Do you think we can take a little break?”
The lights changed subtly and as Devlin walked her off the dance floor, she saw cheesy streamers, ill-fitting blazers, and a live band where there had been cute table decorations, stylish men and women, and a DJ before. And the crowd was thirty years younger.
Devlin wrapped his arm around her, steadying her. She hadn’t noticed that she’d wobbled until after she was securely tucked against his side.
“The bad hair and clothes say we’ve arrived,” he said.
“I wouldn’t say ‘bad.’ Eighties, but not bad.” Before she’d finished the sentence a pimply kid with a mousse-spiked mullet wearing a baggy neon jacket walked by. He’d even rolled back the sleeves of his blazer.
“You were saying?”
“Yeah. I give up. There’s no defense.” She lowered her voice. “Did we just pop in here? I mean, no one seems surprised to see us.”
“If anyone asks, we’ll just claim to be chaperones.”
“All right. Now what?”
“Now we find ourselves.” Devlin scanned the crown of kids.
“Well, unless you have some insider information on where we’ll be, I say we plant ourselves on the path to the bathroom. No girl goes all night at a dance without powdering her nose.”
“I have a better idea.” He jerked his head to the right where a couple was just exiting through a side door.
“No—that’s us! Hey, I’m dressed like a 1950s pin-up doll. I do not remember that.”
Devlin tugged on her hand. “That’s because you don’t remember anything. Can you walk faster in those heels?”
“You betcha.”
“And you looked like a gorgeous, but demure, pin-up girl.”
She couldn’t help it—she giggled. She was weaving through pimply teen couples dressed in the worst clothes imaginable with eighties pop music blaring in her ears—and all at a trot in three inch heels. “We’re in an eighties film.”
“Oh? What do you think, Back to the Future?”
“I was thinking more John Hughes, but you may be right. There is a certain sci-fi flare.” As she stepped outside of the gymnasium, the hot, humid air hit her. “I guess we weren’t in the middle of a drought in the mid-eighties?”
“I honestly can’t remember, but I do know it rained tonight.” He stopped abruptly.
“What? Are we there?”
“Yeah. I forgot about this. In my defense, I was a horny seventeen-year-old.”
“What?” But then she saw what had caught Devlin’s attention. She was making out quite acrobatically in the backseat of a Jeep with a cute boy—not at all pimply from what she could see. Or, rather, the sixteen-year-old version of herself was. She smacked Devlin in the arm with her clutch. “This is what you had me trotting in heels to see?”
“No.” He gave her a half embarrassed, half amused look. “We were enthusiastic, weren’t we?” He pulled her behind a pickup truck so they weren’t so obviously watching.
She covered her eyes with one hand and intermittently peeked out. “And this doesn’t make you feel skeevy?”
“Of course not. I can’t spy on myself; I was there.”
“Well, clearly I was, too, but I don’t remember it, so—”
He tugged her hand down. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “This is it. Pay attention.”
The kid in the Jeep ran his hand through his hair—she’d seen 2016 Devlin do the same—and then he pulled something out of his pocket. Unlike a lot of the other kids, he wasn’t wearing a blazer with a T-shirt. He’d opted for khakis and a button down shirt. So whatever he had must have been tucked away in his pants pocket.
Devlin’s whisper tickled her ear. “This is when I gave you the sapphire ring. Thankfully, vintage jewelry wasn’t nearly as popular back then, so it only took a month of lawn-mowing to pay for it.”
She tried not to laugh, but that was such a different world. Boys who mowed lawns to pay for their girlfriend’s presents. “You were a good kid, huh?” She ignored the rambunctious interplay in the Jeep. Apparently her younger self really, really liked the ring.
“Over-confident, thought I knew everything…thought you’d wait forever. We should have eloped.”
She bumped her head affectionately against his shoulder. “And you’d have gone through law school married.”
“That’s your parents talking. And I did go through law school married…just not to you.”
He sounded so sad. She wished she could remember, if only to know how they’d ever split apart.
“Hey, this is the good part. I almost act like an adult. Check it out.”
Young Devlin was tucking a strand of hair behind his date’s ear. He lifted her hand—the one wearing the ring, if Felicity had to guess—and kissed her fingers.
“That’s the first time I told you that I loved you.”
Felicity’s throat burned. It was so sweet. And innocent, for all the youthful groping that had preceded. She blinked away a tear for what was not meant to be and cleared her throat. “So, when exactly am I supposed to have this revelation?”
When she turned to Devlin, she noticed the air had lost its heaviness and again the light had subtly changed.
Devlin looked around the parking lot, confused. “We’re back. I thought…”
Felicity sighed. “You thought there’d be more. Yeah, so did I. Maybe we missed something?”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer. He looked upset, and doing seemed like a better choice than talking right now. She twined her hand in his and headed back to the gym. Glenda had some explaining to do.
The side door they’d exited was locked, so they went around to the front. This time when they entered, it was Felicity leading.
As soon as the doors opened, the music hit them. It had gotten a little louder and a little rowdier since they’d left. She turned back to Devlin and asked, “How long have we been gone? It seems like more time has passed here.”
“Very possible.” Devlin’s face had a grim cast that Felicity was trying not to notice.
Because this experiment hadn’t failed. Not yet. Not till they found Glenda, and she told them it had. Until then, Felicity was holding out hope.
At least she tried to hold out hope. Forty-five minutes later, they still hadn’t spotted Glenda.
“She’s not exactly easy to miss. A gorgeous woman in a fabulous evening suit with impeccable make-up and beautiful jewelry…I mean she would stand out in almost any crowd.”
Devlin shrugged. “Who knows with Glenda; she may have disappeared minutes after she sent us back. Oh, and she doesn’t always look like that. She’s like a chameleon, with a costume for every role. I’ve seen her as an adventurer, a distracted librarian, and an elegant lady so far. I’m guessing those are all intentional impressions.”
“An adventurer?”
“She was
involved in cleaning up a work mishap.”
Felicity stopped scanning the crowd and turned to him. “A reaper work mishap?”
Devlin nodded.
“Well that’s terrifying.” She reached for his hand and squeezed. “I’m glad you’re retired.”
He lifted their twined hands and he kissed the back of her hand. “Me, too.”
When his lips touched her hand, the edges of her vision narrowed and she felt nauseated. She had one last thought before her vision narrowed to blackness: she was going to pass out.
Devlin couldn’t believe this evening. He knew Glenda had tried, but he’d expected so much more. And then his date had passed out.
She seemed fine, except for losing consciousness—good color and even breathing. He had a suspicion it was related to flitting thirty years back in time in the blink of an eye, so he needed to get her out of here and to Glenda before someone got wise and called an ambulance. He could just see himself explaining to the paramedics that she needed a witch because this was likely a side-effect of time travel.
As he steeled himself to pick her up, he hoped his back was up to this. Then he paused, briefly considering a fireman’s carry, until he realized Felicity would kill him if she woke up slung over his shoulder. He took a breath and heaved her off the ground. He’d never say a word to her, but carrying her to the car about killed him. He had no idea how much she weighed—120? 150? She could have weighed a hundred pounds and it still would have been torture. He was too old for this kind of thing.
He’d only encountered a few curious couples inside, and he’d simply explained that she’d had a little too much to drink and he was bringing her home. No one stopped him, so it must have been at least halfway believable.
Getting an unconscious woman strapped into a car was much more difficult than he’d anticipated, and he was reconsidering his earlier decision. Maybe paramedics would be useful.
Five minutes later, he’d finally tucked Felicity into his car without shredding her dress—he was certain she would appreciate that effort—and, more importantly, without anyone seeing him stuff an unconscious woman into his car.
