by Mel Teshco
‘Really.’ She sounded excited, as though the words would solve everything. ‘What does it say?’
He peered at the writing. ‘Choose.’
Disappointment bit into her words. ‘That’s it?’
He looked up, trying hard to act normal and keep his voice steady. ‘Yeah. But that’s not what worries me.’
‘What … what do you mean? Jessie you’re scaring me.’
His hands clenched. ‘The handwriting’s mine.’
Her eyes widened. ‘That’s not possible.’ Stunned comprehension flooded her face. ‘I guess it is,’ she added weakly. She searched his stare. ‘Do you think the ones in my attic will reveal more words?’
‘I don’t know. But I hope so.’
He straightened and opened his arms, needing to reassure her as much as he needed reassurance. ‘Come here,’ he said softly. When she stepped into his embrace without hesitation once again, he knew she was meant to be.
His woman.
In a place where nothing made sense, he’d never been surer of anything in his life. His chest ached, his throat suddenly thick. How had he ever lived without her by his side?
Was it possible that in another dimension they’d already met and loved one another? His gut told him he was right. Because what he felt for Tara was too deep and intense, too complex, not to be.
Perhaps they’d find out.
***
Thanks to the sleep they’d had during daylight hours, both he and Tara were wide awake when he pulled the Hummer in front of her house and business. Before they drove to Sydney, they had a backpack to fill with supplies and the underneath of some chairs to check out.
Tara unlocked her front door before turning to him. ‘I’m guessing you want to head to the attic first?’
He nodded, and brushed her lips gently with his own. ‘Yes.’
Somehow they needed to figure out the riddle that taunted and beckoned, just out of reach. Or forever be chasing the rainbow with no ending.
Following Tara into the attic, he tipped the nearest mustard-coloured chair onto its side and read out the one word beneath its seat. ‘You.’
‘That’s it?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ He could barely explain the shivers of denial trekking down his spine at seeing his own handwriting once again … handwriting that was done by his hand, which he’d never written.
He tipped the next chair over. ‘Where.’
She repeated the words out loud. ‘Choose. You. Where.’
‘You choose where. Where you choose. Choose where you …?’
‘What about the one in the second-hand shop in town?’ she asked, then added, ‘Except we can’t just break the window.’
‘Actually, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.’ At her disbelieving look he added, ‘But only if we have to leave Sydney again and come back here. It would take nothing to hit the window, read what’s under the chair, and take off to the next dimension.’
‘Leaving our other selves to deal with the implications.’
He shrugged. ‘True. But that’s the least of our problems right now,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a sister to think about.’
They each freshened up quickly before throwing bits and pieces into the backpack Tara had retrieved from under her bed.
There was no sign of Harrison across the road in his hotel, not even a vehicle in the car park to show he was busy behind the bar. In some way it was a relief not to see him, despite his warning in the previous dimension that just might have saved their arses.
Back in the Hummer, he turned onto the highway and then pulled into the twenty-four-hour service station that he’d used in the last dimension, where he’d discovered his credit card was all but useless.
‘What’s wrong?’ Tara asked when he simply sat for a moment and didn’t get out to refuel.
‘I’m almost certain this place didn’t exist in my world.’
‘So you don’t think we’re in the right dimension?—your dimension?’
He turned to her. ‘The thing is … I was tired and stressed. I’m not entirely sure I just didn’t notice it here in the first place.’
‘And you don’t want to rule out we’re in the wrong one?’
He nodded. ‘That’s it exactly.’ He ran a hand over his face, feeling weary beyond his years. ‘But that doesn’t explain the ancient garage with its ancient mechanic and one bowser that I used to fill my Hummer. That same old mechanic was the man who told me about the shortcut.’
She put a hand on his thigh, her face gentle. ‘Let’s just take each day as it comes. Even if this isn’t your world, you might be meant to uncover something here.’
He managed a smile, and covered her hand with his own. It was all he could do not to put his heart on a damn platter for her. But he hardly cared he was turning into a sap for her. ‘You might be right.’
The same lazy attendant sat in the same tiny seat, looking bored and clearly wishing he was anywhere but at work when Jessie pushed open the glass door with Tara beside him. The attendant looked up and gave Tara a familiar smile before he arched a bemused, bushy brow in Jessie’s direction.
The man evidently knew Tara—her other self—in this dimension.
But why was the attendant’s attention focused all on him?
‘Something wrong?’ Jessie asked.
The other man shook his head. ‘Nah. Not really. Feel like we’ve met before, that’s all. Bloody déjà vu.’
Tara stiffened beside Jessie, and he wondered if the same illogical rush of thoughts hit her as they did him. Was it possible, even probable, that déjà vu happened when someone from one dimension crossed over into another; triggering vague recollections from anyone they’d happened to meet?
About to pay with cash, instead he handed over his credit card. To the attendant’s knowledge they’d never met before. There was no harm in trying his card first. It would at least clue him into whether or not in this life he was a success or a failure.
Tara put a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t use it.’ When he looked at her she said softly, ‘We don’t know what sort of a person you are here.’
Jessie plucked the credit card from out of the machine before the transaction went through. Tara was right. If he was a killer in this dimension the police would be able to track him down through whatever purchases he put on his credit card.
Ignoring the dumbfounded look on the attendant’s face he turned to Tara and said, ‘You’re right.’ His smile was strained, though pride for his forward-thinking lover had him bend and kiss her on the mouth. ‘See, beautiful and smart,’ he whispered.
‘You’ll have me believe that soon enough,’ she said softly in return, pulling out the money packet and thrusting a couple of notes towards the attendant.
‘Good,’ Jessie said in approval. ‘I hope you do.’
She arched a mock-haughty brow. ‘I can only try.’
The attendant stared after them as they left the shop, but their attention was soon captured by the Kombi van with its swirling flower and peace sign design that had pulled in for petrol.
‘Think I’m getting a sudden case of déjà vu too,’ Tara said.
Jessie nodded. ‘Same.’
As the goateed driver climbed out of the van and headed to the bowser, he paused at seeing them, his eyes following their progress and a frown biting into his brow.
Jessie ushered Tara a little quicker towards the Hummer. He couldn’t help but think the less they met people they’d already encountered from other dimensions, the less likely the future would warp in another direction.
Or maybe he’d watched too many B-grade horror movies.
Still, as he began the long drive towards Sydney, apprehension tightened his gut and frayed on his nerves. This once, he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was more than a little afraid to face what lay ahead.
Chapter Nine
Jessie pulled into the driveway of his mother’s house, where a trike lay on its side, right next to an old swing set in the
front yard.
His belly churned, his fingers clamping hard around the steering wheel. Though there was no tree, no Tilly barking from the neighbour’s yard, the unfamiliar children’s play equipment indicated this wasn’t his dimension.
He sliced a hand over his face. The constant back and forth from Mirraway to Sydney seemed relentless on top of the anxiety of never knowing what he was about to find. His gritty eyes returned to the trike and swing set. Bloody hell. Kids. This definitely wasn’t what he’d expected.
‘What do we do now?’ Tara asked, the worry in her low voice telling him she too had worked out this dimension wasn’t the correct one.
He turned to face her, reading her disappointment for him. He put a hand over hers. ‘We find out what’s going on.’
The fierce heat of a midday sun was softened mildly by a wisp of cloud. Jessie was in no mood to appreciate the brief respite. His sister was in trouble and he was doing little more than chasing his tail.
Only Tara’s hand in his as they walked up the path to the house gave him any comfort. Her gaze was soft, her smile reassuring when he glanced at her before lifting a hand to knock on the front door.
A harassed young mother answered, her long dark hair lank and her face running into hard, as though she’d lived it tough in her short life. She juggled a sleepy baby in her arms while a chubby toddler clutched her leg. The woman eyed them with something between suspicion and disdain. ‘Yeah, what do you want? I don’t want no religious nuts—’
Sudden recognition lit up the woman’s dull stare. Her breath whooshed out. ‘Jessie?’
‘Yes.’ Jessie attempted a polite smile, wondering who the hell this woman was as he decided to try and work it out. ‘Ahh … my mother owned this house. And to be honest, I didn’t know she’d moved out.’
Confusion clouded the young mother’s eyes. ‘I don’t know nothing about your mother.’
He blew out a slow breath. How could he have been so stupid to expect his mother to be alive in every dimension but his own? ‘Of course you don’t,’ he said bleakly.
The young mother stared at him warily, as if he’d grown two heads, but she didn’t back down an inch. ‘You know, you don’t look like any drug dealer I know, but your memory sure does seem addled.’
Tara shifted uncomfortably beside him, but he wasn’t going to pretend he was something other than what he must have become in this dimension. Didn’t mean he couldn’t stretch the truth a bit. ‘I’m a recovering addict. And yes, I’ve lost big chunks of my memory.’
The woman shifted her baby in her arms, empathy softening her stare even as her lips pressed tight as though she was gathering an arsenal of words before she spoke. ‘I’m Marnie, you do remember me at least, don’t you?’ She shook her head at his silence and frowned, ‘Look, if it’s about the house, it’s too late. You signed it over to me.’
Tara pressed a hand to her mouth beside him, as he inwardly reeled. Why would he have given her this house? Dear lord, where was Lolita?
‘I don’t understand?’ he said hoarsely.
Her baby started wailing and Marnie’s anxiety grew. ‘What don’t you understand?’ Her voice sharpened. ‘The house is mine, you can’t take it back just because you don’t remember giving it to me. I know my rights! I spoke to your lawyers often enough on the phone.’
Tara dropped her hand. ‘We don’t want the house back, it’s yours.’ She flashed Jessie an apologetic look. ‘With Jessie struggling to recall things, we’re here because we hoped you might be able to fill us in on a few missing details.’
The young mother rocked her squalling baby. Her top teeth bit into her bottom lip, her indecision clear. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’ When her baby’s cries grew in volume, she wilted a little, gazing up and down the road before stepping aside. ‘Dan’s hungry … you’d both better come in.’
The house was pleasantly cool and tidy, the polished floorboards gleaming and the windows spotless and adorned with bright new curtains. Something in his chest tightened, as a sad smile curled the corners of his mouth. It seemed Marnie had brought life back into the house where he’d grown up.
Jessie pulled a seat out for Tara at the round table, right next to an attached high chair, while Marnie made her baby a bottle of formula, her wide-eyed toddler still attached to her leg.
Tara scraped her chair back a little and bent low, holding out her arms and coaxing the little boy towards her. After a moment’s hesitation, the toddler let go of his mother and went to Tara with one cautious step after another.
Tara scooped him up onto her lap, and then commenced playing peek-a-boo until the little boy couldn’t help but giggle.
Marnie tested the filled bottle’s temperature on her wrist before giving her baby the formula. She raised a brow Tara’s way on hearing her son’s laughter. ‘You sure are good with kids. He’s not real trusting with adults.’
Tara smiled. ‘I love children.’
A flicker of yearning burned in Jessie’s gut. A family wasn’t something he’d considered, but the woman holding the toddler so lovingly made him yearn for the very things he’d never wanted before.
He cleared his throat and forced his focus on Marnie.
There was a whole level of unspoken words behind her telling them her little boy didn’t trust adults. The toddler’s fearful eyes, especially every time he glanced at Jessie, told him it was men he seriously didn’t trust.
‘You were in a bad relationship?’ he asked gently.
Marnie blew out a breath. ‘Yeah, well, unless you really have forgotten everything, my children’s father was a drunk. Worse, he was a mean drunk, if you get my drift.’
Jessie nodded. Domestic violence aggravated by drinking. He glanced at the toddler, who already appeared relaxed and happy under Tara’s obvious love of children.
But Tara had evidently paid attention to their conversation. She paused for a moment in playing with Marnie’s son and asked her, ‘Did you move here to keep your children safe?’
Marnie plunked herself onto the nearest chair, a bent knee resting on the lip of the table, a bemused expression on her face as she continued to feed her baby. But her smile didn’t make it to her eyes, not with the world-weariness etched into her features. She arched one of her finely plucked eyebrows, her stare swinging from Tara to him. ‘Christ, you really don’t remember a thing, do you?’
He shook his head, his mouth going dry. He wasn’t sure about much of anything anymore, but he was certain right then he was about to learn something momentous, whether he liked it or not.
Marnie sucked in a breath, her stare watchful when she finally answered carefully, ‘My low-life husband was the man who killed your sister.’
Jessie froze. If the world had stopped revolving, he wouldn’t have been surprised. Bile, thick and acidic, rose in his throat. He fought to keep it down.
Lolita was dead in this world too.
Marnie continued, clearly conditioned to grief. ‘I was heavily pregnant when you shot and killed my husband. Immediately afterwards your picture was plastered all over the television, it’s why I recognised you. Of course you went on the run, but you took the time to contact your lawyers with specific instructions regarding me and my kids.’ She shrugged, as though she was talking about nothing more mundane than the weather. ‘Guilt, I guess.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Jessie croaked.
‘Don’t be,’ Marnie said flatly. She pulled the bottle’s teat free from her baby’s cupid mouth before she lifted him gently to place against her chest. She patted him between the shoulderblades, then added, ‘You did me and my kids a big favour. No more beatings. No more abuse. No more being terrified in my own home. And no more worrying where I’m going to find rent money. For the first time in years I’m content.’ She lifted her eyes, made softer by the threat of tears. ‘And I owe it all to you.’
No words formed as Jessie digested that bit of news. Tara remained silent too, while Marnie pushed to her feet on the pretext of putting the baby
down to sleep.
Jessie wanted to yell out to the young mother and tell her not to run and hide. She should be letting the tears come and cry out the demons still clutching at her soul that made her so hard and bitter.
He dragged in a breath, aware that Marnie’s life had also been forever affected by the monster who’d killed Lolita. And though Marnie’s tears never came, somehow a little piece of him wept for the once soft, generous spirit that he glimpsed whenever she looked at her kids.
‘Are you okay?’ Tara asked, her voice quiet and her eyes understanding.
‘Yeah. I think so.’
Such much for his bastard qualities.
Marnie returned, her face brittle and a little pale, but her hard façade back in place. ‘I think you guys had better leave now.’ She swung to Jessie. ‘No matter how grateful I am for what you’ve done, you’re still wanted by the authorities and I’m no longer willing to put my family at risk.’
Jessie nodded. ‘Of course. I understand.’ He turned to Tara, and when she nodded he added, ‘We understand.’
Tara stood and placed the toddler in Marnie’s arms. She smiled at the other woman. ‘Stay safe.’
Jessie perceived the exchange of understanding between the two women. Tara had experienced abuse, even if at a different level.
Back in the Hummer, Tara turned to Jessie. ‘You know, what you did for Marnie was seriously amazing.’
‘Yeah, maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact I killed a man.’
‘No it doesn’t, and I’m not commending you for doing it. But you’re no killer, Jessie, we both know that. I’m betting you did whatever you had to, to protect your sister.’
Her faith in him created a huge lump in his throat. She was so much more than a woman he’d fallen in lust with. She was a part of him now, heart and soul. Yeah, perhaps the unknown journey they were taking together had helped cement their bond, but again he suspected there was more to it than that. Tara’s idea of soulmates reuniting seemed more and more likely.
Somehow he kept his emotions at bay and instead focused on the hard facts. ‘I’m not so sure the police would agree with that logic.’
