A Tale of Two Centuries msssc-2

by Rachel Harris

Leaning my elbows onto the table, I say, “Reyna, my sixteenth-century life was spent putting other people’s desires before my own. You know that—you were there. But this experience taught me that while doing so on occasion may be noble, I made myself into a martyr. Now it is time for me, for me to follow my own heart and passions.” Hoping she can see the depths of sincerity shining in my eyes, hear the conviction ringing in my voice, I say, “I’m stronger here. And it is in this century that I belong.”

  The silence after I finish speaking is heavy. It taunts me with its shadowy edges, causing me to wish my words back from the air and start again.

  Maybe I went too far.

  Has anyone ever stood up to Reyna before?

  To fate?

  Asked the stars to realign themselves just for their own purposes and then arrogantly expect them to listen?

  I begin losing feeling in my limbs from abject terror of the divine…but then I see it. Under my wide-eyed scrutiny, Reyna’s close-lipped mouth twitches.

  That miraculous ghost of a smile holds for a moment, and then an actual burst of laughter explodes from her mouth.

  Were it not laced with her rough undertones, I would not trust my own eyes and ears.

  “Well done, Alessandra,” she says, clapping her hands twice. “You have grown.”

  It feels as though the world has tipped, and I don’t know how to react to this new side of Cat’s gypsy girl. I decide to go with gratitude. “Thank you. I, uh, I’m glad you think so.”

  She chuckles softly and strikes a match. The smaller white candle beside the sapphire one flares to life. A shadow dances across her face. “You have more than fulfilled my expectations and your destiny,” she tells me, indeed sounding pleased. “But I must ask one more question.”

  And I slump. Foolishly, I had thought that the hard part was over, but the sudden graveness of her request causes a hummingbird to knock against my rib cage. Drawing on every drop of courage left in reserve, I say with only a slight waver, “All right.”

  Reyna’s eyes flash over the flickering flames. “Is your desire to stay based upon your affection for a certain young man?”

  Here is the real test. Intuitively I know that my answer here matters more than anything else I have said. And while everything in me wants to rush to answer in the negative, I sit back and truly ponder her question.

  It is a fair one, and truthfully, one I should have expected. For the last two nights, I’ve stayed awake at night thinking about the second half of the vision I received during Reyna’s initial spell—the faceless boy with dark hair who held me in his arms. I thought about how my spirit seemed to respond to Austin even when he was still driving me insane, and I realized that he was that boy. I thought I was calling out for adventure, and I was—the first part of the vision, the glimpse of me onstage, proved it. And the reality was everything I pictured it would be. But I was also calling out for a chance at love.

  So it would be a lie to say that Austin has no bearing on my decision tonight. He is, after all, the first man to inspire the true stirrings of love in my heart. But I know as well as I know my own name that he is not the sole reason.

  “No,” I tell her with certainty. “Austin is wonderful, and I do care for him, but I want to stay here for me. I want the life I can live here. I want to be the person this place has made me. And I want to continue growing into the person I know I can become because of the freedoms and possibilities this century allows.”

  Reyna drums her long, black-painted nails along the matching tablecloth, and I realize that is the first sound I have heard other than the soft clink of her jewelry and our own voices since entering the tent. Having grown accustomed to the noises of Cat’s world, I know that even in this short time, I should have heard the wail of an ambulance, the screech of tires, and at least a dozen impatient car horns coupled with yells of annoyance. I tilt my head, straining to listen, but hear nothing. Not even the melodic bubbling of a fountain that would signal home. It is as if we exist in our own dimension, being neither here nor there.

  Pinpricks of trepidation prickle on my skin as I wonder if my arguments have all been for nothing, that I am already on my way back to my own century. But Reyna has never given me reason to suspect she would mislead me, that she would have me explain my reasons simply to yank my dreams away. The powers of fate and destiny can be overwhelming and scary for certain, but Reyna has proven herself time and time again to be on our side. One of the good ones. A friend.

  I close my eyes and begin rocking back and forth in my chair. The creak of the aged wood lulls me. And I decide to choose trust even in the middle of so much fearful uncertainty.

  But then Reyna asks, “Tell me, Alessandra, do you remember the message I left you with?” and my eyes snap open.

  It takes a moment to notice the small smile playing upon her lips. When I do, the air around us shifts. Holding onto hope that I’m finally going to learn my fate, I repeat the words I can probably recite in my sleep—and probably do. “You said that the adventure I seek is full of possibilities, but that I should always remember where my real strength lies. Though that is what confuses me. You came to Cat’s home prepared to send me back before I even performed on the stage. Is that not where my strength lies? The stage?”

  “No, it is not.” Reyna reaches across the table to grasp my hand. She uncurls the fingers I’ve formed into a fist and traces a long line down the center of my open palm. “Your true strength lies in yourself.”

  I pull back my hand and stare at the series of squiggles. “I do not understand.”

  “You say you are stronger here,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice, “but that strength has been inside you all along. Your strength lies in your heart, in your selfless caring for those around you. When you trust that inner voice, when you let go of expectations and follow that loving heart of yours, Alessandra, you’re able to move mountains. Cat and Austin can attest to that. If you had found a way to embrace that strength in the past, in your own time, then that would be where you should return. But if the trappings of the modern world and the opportunities here are what you need to become your true self, then that has always been an option. You just had to realize the possibility and grasp it.” She pauses. “For the right reasons.”

  She lets her words sink in and then clears her throat delicately. “All you needed was to challenge yourself to figure it out. And to help you do so, I might have given you a little push in the right direction.”

  I note the inflection on the word challenge and the sharpness of her gaze, and it clicks in my mind. “You are Miss Edwards.”

  She winks. Rubbing my tense forehead, I ask, “So the other night when you said that the decision was not in your power, you meant it was in mine?” She gives me a knowing smile, and I shake my head in amazement. “This was certainly much easier than I expected.”

  Reyna chuckles. “Alessandra, I have learned that our world is filled with two kinds of people: old souls, and people who were born before their time. You, dear girl, are the latter.”

  My chest swells, knowing that is as close to a compliment as I may ever get from her. I lower my gaze to the table and land on the white candle. “So that is it?” I ask, wondering why she lighted it if so. “No spells to perform? No magic tricks?”

  She shakes her head. “Once you walk out of this tent, history will be forever changed. So you must be sure that this is what you want, for once history is altered you cannot go back.”

  Amazement and profound relief that I—formerly timid me—actually took a stand for what I wanted and won consume me. But then I remember everyone I am leaving behind.

  How is it possible to feel so much happiness and sadness at one time? Can a heart withstand such turmoil?

  I know this is the right decision. My parents are grown, and my father has always told me to follow my heart.

  You are a good girl, Alessandra, with a good heart. Follow that, and you shall never be led astray.

  The memor
y of his words brings fresh tears to my eyes.

  This is what my heart is telling me is right…but that doesn’t keep it from shattering. Never again will I feel Mama’s arms hold me. I will not hear her singing or the lilt of my father’s laughter, or see the crinkle around Cipriano’s eyes in the very rare moments he shucks his overwhelming sense of duty and smiles.

  I brush away a tear as it glides down my cheek. “What will my family believe happened to me?”

  Reyna purses her lips and considers me. “I suppose we can handle it any number of ways. It was my intention for them to awake in the morning with the belief that you ran away for love. But if you wish something different, I am open to your suggestions.”

  I do wish something different, but I have asked for so much already. It seems selfish to request anything more—and what I want may not even be possible. But I have to try. “If I wrote a letter telling them good-bye,” I say, “could you get it to them?”

  Reyna snickers. “You are just like your cousin. I transport the pair of you across hundreds of years and rewrite history, and you think me unable to perform the simplest of tricks.” She shakes her head with a grin. “Yes, I think I can manage sending a letter.”

  Mumbling to herself about skeptics, she reaches into the small dresser behind her and pulls out a piece of parchment and a pen. After sliding the materials onto the tabletop, Reyna says quietly, “I will give you a few minutes alone. If you need anything, just call.”

  I watch her disappear into the dark. Then, holding the pen in my hand, I stare at the paper. I think about all the things I wish I could have told my family before I left, things I want them to know and remember about me, and as the words come for my final good-bye, salty tears splash on the thick paper.

  Dear Mama, Father, and Cipriano,

  I know my disappearance may come as a shock. But please know that I am stronger than I ever gave you reason to believe. It is because of your love and endless faith in me that I am now able to step out in faith, choosing a life filled with love, hope, and possibility. Do not doubt that I have loved every moment of my life, and a portion of my heart will forever remain behind with you.

  I cannot explain where I am going. I cannot even tell you how you can reach me to reply to this letter. Just know that I am safe and that I am happy. Father, I am finally following my heart. It is my fervent prayer, if fate and Signore will it so, that we shall all meet again someday. Until then, know that I am forever thinking of you and missing you.

  Your loving daughter and sister,

  Alessandra

  Postscript: Tell Lorenzo I shall miss my childhood friend, and that “Goddess Victoria” wishes him well. Also, tell him to continue painting…he has more admirers than he could ever dream.

  Chapter Thirty

  Back on the streets of Hollywood, I close my eyes and savor the sounds of the future. The wail of the ambulance, the honks of disgruntled drivers, and the squeal of tires provide a beautiful melody of my new home. The very things that terrified me when I first arrived, standing in this spot crowded with painted creatures and ill-mannered people, are the very things that will be a part of my everyday life. And I can’t wait.

  Confidently strolling to the curb, I tell Cat’s driver that I would rather find my own ride, and with reluctance, he agrees. But he does not drive away. Grateful for the caring way he watches me, I take a few steps, thrust my hand into the air, and let a whistle rip. Almost immediately, a yellow taxi pulls over.

  Yes, I can do this.

  Grinning wide and proud at the driver in the black car behind me, I slip into the backseat of the cab. The smell of food lingers inside, just as it did for my first ride, but this time it is almost pleasant. The cloth seat is comfortable and dry, the ground under my feet not sticky.

  A very good omen.

  I rattle off the address, and the driver eases into traffic. As the streetlights and sights I once found scary fly past, I think about my last moments with Reyna.

  Once I completed my carefully worded letter to my family, she took it in her hands. She did not read it but merely folded it in half, then folded it again, forming a perfect, neat square.

  Then, she thrust it into the flame of the white candle.

  Of course, I screamed—I worked hard on that letter and it was my only chance to tell my family good-bye. But she merely grinned, assuring me this was how it worked. A magical form of delivery, she said, and I had no choice but to trust her. She is the expert, after all.

  Once I calmed down (though to be honest, my tender heart may never fully heal, always having a hole where my family should be), Reyna led me to the entrance of the tent. She told me where to find an account that had been set up in my name for college, a modern-day version of a dowry I suppose, courtesy of the stars.

  Then, staring deep into my eyes, she said, “Never forget your strength, Alessandra. Follow your heart, and you will always find your way.”

  Hearing her reiterate my father’s words, although I never shared them with her aloud, was my cosmic sign that everything would be all right.

  Of course after that, she shoved me out of the tent.

  I laugh quietly at our gypsy girl. Reyna is impossible to figure out. She never seems to act the way I expect, and she loves speaking in incomprehensible riddles, but underneath all the veils and mystique, she is a kindred spirit. And I will dearly miss her.

  The taxi slows to a stop, and the driver glances at me over his shoulder. “Here you go, miss.” He looks back at the bright red meter beside him and says, “That’ll be twenty-five fifty.”

  I smile, knowing exactly what he means. Then I pat my lap and remember I am in my costume. With a sinking in my stomach, I open my purse and find my cell phone, a pack of gum, and a pair of dark sunglasses. But no wallet.

  It is well and good that I understand modern currency now, but it still helps to carry it.

  Sighing, I lean forward and ask, “Sir, do you mind waiting for a moment? I somehow forgot to put any money in my purse, but I know the person inside will be happy to help.”

  The man chuckles under his breath. He yawns and rubs a hand over his eyes. “No problem, honey. This kind of thing happens all the time.”

  I guess if nothing else, it is reassuring to know I’m not the only forgetful person in this century.

  I thank him profusely for his understanding and hop out of the backseat. Jogging to the front door, my only thought is yelling from the rather high rooftop that I am here to stay. Before I even think about the time, my finger shoots out to depress the doorbell. And as the very loud dings chime inside, I stare at the intricate carvings in the glass, impatiently shifting my weight from foot to foot, peering inside for signs of life.

  Finally, a dark figure appears on the other side. I know the moment he realizes who is at the door because Austin’s slow pace transforms into a run, and then his front door is open, and I am in his arms.

  Soon I will go home and twirl around the room, dancing with Cat in celebration, and tomorrow we’ll invite Lucas over so he can stuff me full of pizza, but right now, this is exactly where I need to be.

  Leaning away, I manage to say, “Guess you’re not getting rid of me,” just before his mouth descends upon mine, and any other words I would have said fade into oblivion.

  Austin lifts me into his arms and buries his face in my neck, breathing roughly and squeezing me so tight it is as if he wants to meld us together. “I told you to believe, didn’t I?”

  He sets me down and brushes the hair away from my face, gazing at me so reverently that my heart clenches. In this moment, I know that every heartbreak was worth it to get me here.

  “Austin, I’ve always—”

  A quick interrupting beep of a horn reminds me that we are not alone.

  “Oh, yes,” I say. “That would be the taxi driver. It appears that in my fancy modern day purse, I forgot to pack anything remotely useful. Such as bucks.”

  Austin looks at me strangely, obviously not getting m
y private joke from the first day I arrived. “You know, Princess, I don’t think we need my challenges anymore. I can already tell life with you is going to be adventure enough.” Then he smiles, a shiver-inducing grin that has me wanting to pull him right back into my arms, and says, “Be right back.”

  As he runs down the driveway to pay the kind gentleman driver, I glance up at the stars and issue a silent thank-you. I look down to see the man wave his hand out his opened window, reverse down the drive, and be swallowed up by the moonlit night.

  “Now, where were we?” Austin says when he returns, sliding his hands around my lower back and tugging me close.

  He lowers his head for another kiss, and as much as I would enjoy giving him that very thing, I lay a palm against his chest.

  “Before we get to that,” I say with a grin of my own, “there is something I need you to know.”

  Austin runs his fingernails over my back, his gaze curious, but he doesn’t say anything.

  I take a breath.

  “I’ve always believed, Austin,” I tell him. “At first, I believed solely in the power of destiny and fate. Then, magic. But I’ve learned during these last few days that there is something even more powerful than those things.” Austin raises an eyebrow, and I grin. “Choice. True happiness is something we create ourselves with our own choices: whom we want to be with, whom we let into our worlds, and how we choose to spend what little time we are given in this world. And I, Alessandra D’Angeli Forlani, choose this life, this time.” I press my lips against the curve of his delicious mouth, then draw back just far enough to whisper, “And I choose you.”

  Acknowledgments

  I’ve always heard that second books are hard. Pressure mounts, a blank page looms, worries descend. Since A Tale of Two Centuries is technically my third book, I figured I’d be spared the drama. (*insert snort laugh here*) Yeah, I was wrong. So many people stepped up, providing encouragement, support, commiseration, and love. So many times over the past year I’ve shaken my head and then looked above, thanking God for all that He’s given me. What an amazing ride this has been!