by Vicky Savage
“Boston,” Ash says without blinking an eye. “I have a summer internship with Sikorsky before finishing up my degree at Northeastern.”
“Ah, good school. When do you graduate?”
“Next spring.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy our little hamlet. It’s quite a change from Boston.”
“Yes it is. Thanks, Mr. Beckett.”
I’m completely thrown by Dad’s altered appearance, and I stammer a little. “Um, I know you’re going out tonight. But I was wondering if you’re going to be around tomorrow. I have some, uh, college stuff to discuss with you.”
“Yes. I actually have a day off tomorrow. First one in three weeks. Lisa and I plan to catch a movie in the afternoon, but I’ll be here all morning.” He cups my chin in his hand and raises my face to his. “Anything wrong, sweetheart?”
“No, no. Nothing’s wrong, but … well, let’s just talk tomorrow.”
“All right.” He checks his watch. “I need to get ready for my date. You’ll find chicken, pasta, and some leftover salad in the fridge for dinner.”
“That’s great, Dad. Is it okay if Ash stays?”
“Sure. Just don’t be up too late. You’ve got exams next week. Got to keep up that GPA or Yale may rescind their offer.” He winks and heads for the stairs.
I whirl around to Asher. “Something weird’s going on,” I whisper. “My dad does not have a beard.”
From the hallway Dad calls, “Oh, and Jade?”
“Yeah, Dad?”
“Remember to feed the cat.”
“Uh. Sure thing.”
I clutch Asher’s arm. “And we don’t have a cat.”
“Are you sure, Jade? You’re not just shaken up by the time travel, are you?”
“Ash, I think I’d remember if I had a pet.”
He makes a little circuit through the kitchen scanning the floor. Inside the laundry room door, he bends down and comes up holding a white porcelain bowl with Brady printed on the side between two painted paw prints.
“Brady? He named the cat after Tom Brady?” I say. “Oh man, Ash, I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to contact Narowyn. Something’s terribly wrong.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’ll go back to my place and try to get her on the polycom. Dr. McDonald showed me how to do it. It’s a little tricky because of the time element. If I can’t reach her, we’ll have to go back together. I can’t risk leaving you here alone, especially when we don’t know where here is.”
“Okay, but hurry. This is creeping me out.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Dad kisses me goodbye before leaving for his date. It’s uncanny, but he seems exactly like himself—only with facial hair. I’m too nervous to sit still, so I remove a few things from the fridge and begin preparations for dinner. I put the water on for the pasta and take a sauté pan from the cabinet for the chicken breasts.
Asher appears in the kitchen doorway as I’m drizzling olive oil in the pan. “Did you get her?” I ask.
“Yep. I have some answers. Turn that off, and let’s sit down for a minute. I’ll explain the whole thing to you.”
I switch off the burners, wipe my hands on a kitchen towel, and join Asher on the couch.
“So what’s up?” I ask. “Do we need to go back and try again?”
“Narowyn says no. According to her we’re just experiencing a temporary cosmic wrinkle.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She says it’s a phenomenon that occurs occasionally in time travel. You can—”
“Yeow!” I squeal as a ginger-colored ball of fur lands lightly in my lap. The feline intruder doesn’t seem to notice he’s scared the stuffing out of me. Purring loudly, he rubs affectionately against my neck.
Asher chuckles softly. “This must be Brady.” He runs a hand over the cat’s sleek head. Brady leans into his touch.
I hold him out and study his face. Kind of cute. The second I let go of him he hops to the floor and scuttles off to the kitchen.
“Dinner’s going to be late tonight,” I call after him, “and don’t get into my chicken.” Turning back to Ash, I say, “Okay so you were about to explain this comic wrinkle thing to me.”
“Right. Apparently we landed in the correct existence. Narowyn confirmed that with Dr. McDonald. But we’re just a shade off center. That’s why everything seems normal with just a few subtle exceptions. It has something to do with quantum physics and the fact that all possibilities exist at any given time. What we’re seeing are shadows along the edges. The slight variations are the decisions that could have gone either way.”
“I’m not sure I understand. So at some point my dad considered growing a beard, but decided against it? And what we’re seeing is what might have been?”
“Exactly. He must have thought about getting a cat, too.”
“I asked to get one last year, but he said no.”
“Well, in a discarded scenario he obviously said yes.”
“All right so what do we do to fix it?”
“Nothing. Narowyn says we just go with it, and eventually, it’ll straighten itself out. According to her, it’s impossible to ride the edges for any significant period of time, because the universe pulls you back to the center. It’s like gravity. Anyway, she claims we’ll be back on track in no time.”
A shiver passes through me. “It’s just so weird. What happens if we get stuck in this shadow land? I mean what about my real life?”
He pushes a limp strand of hair away from my forehead. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. We should give it a little more time.”
The touch of Asher’s fingertips on my skin, feels uncomfortably intimate. I know he didn’t mean anything by brushing the hair out of my eyes, but I spring to my feet.
“Okay then. We’ll just wait it out. Come help with dinner, and let’s see what that cat’s up to.”
“Just one other thing,” he says. “Narowyn sent a couple of people to keep an eye on you, but they haven’t located us yet, since we’re kind of in no man’s land. She wants us to be extra careful until things are back to normal.”
“She told me she didn’t think IUGA would try anything here since the court issued its restraining order.”
“Apparently Captain Watterson picked-up some intelligence that IUGA’s director is really pissed about the screw-up in Domerica and about the court’s order. We just need to be super cautious.”
“Fine, but if the Transcenders can’t find us, I doubt IUGA can either.”
He shrugs. “You may be right.”
We busy ourselves in the kitchen. Our chicken and pasta meal turns out to be pretty tasty, thanks to some fresh basil I clipped from the plant on the window sill and Asher’s impromptu pesto sauce. Gotta love a guy who cooks.
After the cat is fed and the dishwasher loaded, we schlep the Target bags over to Asher’s place and make up his bed with the fresh linens.
He brews some coffee, and we talk over the day. “You’d better call Liv tonight before you turn in,” he says. “She obviously doesn’t like being ignored.”
“That’s putting it mildly. She’s been my best friend since forever, and it was nice spending time with her today because I really missed her, but I feel like a big gulf has opened up between us. I took a sharp turn onto a different road, and now I have to keep all this stuff from her. She used to be the one I talked to about everything.”
“Yeah, I get it. Arumel’s about the only place I don’t have to pretend,” he says.
“Have you ever thought about telling your family you’re a Transcender?” I ask.
“Nope. Mom would think it has something to do with the devil. Amber would just be pissed that I got the bonus DNA and she didn’t. Anyway it’d be too hard to explain.”
I snort a small laugh. “I hear ya. Every time I visualize telling Liv about Domerica and about Ryder or about being a Transcender, I realize it would be a disaster. I wish I had someone to talk to, though.”
He lays his hand over mine. “You can talk to me, you know. About anything.” His eyes are soft and sincere, but I can’t make out if there’s something more than friendship underlying his offer.
I withdraw my hand. “Thanks Ash. You’re a good friend.”
“Hey, why don’t I stay at your place tonight, to be on the safe side? Your dad will never have to know.”
“That’s so sweet, but I’m looking forward to being in my own room tonight.” Alone. “I could use your help in the morning, though. This Oxford thing’s going to be a tough sell for Dad.”
“Right, okay then, let me walk you home. And, Jade, don’t worry about your dad, we’ll figure out a way to win him over.”
Back in my room, I change into my ratty old pajama pants and a gray tank top. I sit cross-legged on the bed and slide my embroidered bag over. Rifling through the things stashed inside, I locate all the Oxford information and stack it on top of my dresser, for the morning. Next, I take out the blue leather Barclays bank case. A shimmering ball of warmth forms deep in my belly as I thumb through the information and realize that I’m semi-loaded. According to Narowyn, I’ll never have to worry about money again. That’s a good thing, and I mentally add it to my gratitude list.
Closing the bank case and tucking it back in the bag, I stare for a moment at the zipper compartment. I conduct a little mental tussle with myself before unzipping it and reaching for the next item. I know it’s probably not in my best interest, but whether I want to admit it or not, it’s the reason I opened the bag in the first place.
Tears trickle down my cheeks as I carefully withdraw the folded sketch of Ryder. “I miss you so much, love,” I whisper to the small square of paper. The sight of his eyes and mouth, so faithfully captured by Princess Jaden, crushes my heart. “I’ll never forget you, I swear.”
Slipping the paper beneath my pillow, I press my face to the soft cotton case that smells so familiar. The tears I’ve held inside all day are finally allowed to flow freely, and I cry myself to sleep.
* * *
Dad sleeps-in late in the morning. Being that it’s Sunday and his day off I guess he’s entitled, but I’m nervous as a double espresso. I wish he’d get up so we can get this over with.
I spread out the Oxford materials on the coffee table, and Asher and I rehearse what I’m going to say several times.
“Got anything to eat around here?” Asher asks. He’s on his second cup of coffee, and I haven’t offered him any sustenance at all. My stomach’s a turbulent acid lake, so the thought of food hadn’t entered my mind.
“I’m sorry, Ash. Let’s fix some breakfast. Maybe the smell of frying bacon will get Dad out of bed.”
“You know you’re going to have to give him a few minutes to wake up before you hit him with all this.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll let him eat first. That ought to put him in a good mood. Let me see if we have any of those refrigerated cinnamon rolls. He loves those.”
I open the fridge and find the blue cylinder of dough in the door. Each time I make these I swear I’m not going to eat any because of the generous helpings of sugar and chemicals concealed inside each decadent swirl, but the smell never fails to override my good judgment.
Ash and I are a great team in the kitchen once again. Watching him expertly flip the hash browns to crisp on the opposite side, I feel a surge of affection for him. He could be my best friend in Arumel if it wasn’t for my sneaking suspicion that he wants more from me. I know I’ll have to confront that issue sooner or later, but my plate’s overflowing as it is. So, it’s going to have to wait.
Brady the cat rubs against our legs as we finish setting the table. A few minutes later, we hear Dad padding down the stairs. He’s surprised not only by the lavish breakfast spread on the table, but also by Asher’s repeat appearance in our home.
“Well, what have we here?” he asks running a hand over his bed-head.
“Oh hey, Dad. I … we made breakfast for you.”
He scratches his whiskered chin and nods at Asher. “You haven’t been here all night, have you?” I can tell he’s only half-joking.
“Nah, I got here about an hour ago. Jaden kicked me out early last night but said I could come back for breakfast if I knew how to cook hash browns.”
Dad’s eyes light up. “We have hash browns?”
“And cinnamon rolls,” I say, holding up the plate of frosted pastries.
“Let’s eat!” Dad takes his chair at the head of the table and begins filling his plate. “Jade, do you mind getting me a cup of coffee?”
“Coming right up.”
Breakfast passes pleasantly. Asher asks Dad about his work at the hospital. Dad shares a few funny stories of his days as an ER nurse, before he moved over to Cardiology. Brady begs for food under the table, and Dad slips him a few nibbles of bacon.
After we’ve eaten our fill, Dad clears up his plate and announces he’s heading upstairs to shower.
“Wait a sec. I have something important to discuss with you. Remember?”
“Oh yeah. Sorry sweetheart. Something about college?”
“Yes. Come into the living room, I want to show you some stuff.”
Dad and I sit on the sofa facing the coffee table. Asher perches in an armchair across from us. The colorful brochure of Oxford catches Dad’s eye and he picks it up.
“Oxford University?” he asks. “You thinking of some kind of summer program?”
“Uh, no. I’m thinking I may want to go to Oxford instead of Yale for college.”
He laughs mildly. “Isn’t that a bit unrealistic, sweetheart? For starters, you haven’t even applied. But England? It’s so far away. What put this idea into your head?” His eyes flicker to Asher, like maybe he’s the culprit.
“Mrs. Colgate, one of the placement counselors at school, told me about a new program Oxford started at the Rothermere American Institute.” Ash and I made that up earlier this morning. “Anyway they’re looking for American students and she encouraged me to apply. And, well … they accepted me.”
“What! When did all this happen? You didn’t mention it to me.” Brady chooses that moment to hop on Dad’s lap and rub up against his terry bathrobe. “Bad timing, buddy,” Dad says, setting him on the floor.
“Jade, you can’t be serious. Oxford University?” He shakes his head slowly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I could never afford to send you there. The only reason you’re able to go to Yale is the package of loans and grants they put together for you.”
“But Dad, Oxford’s paying for everything, even my housing and plane tickets. See?” I slide the financial aid information in front of him.
He squints at the papers and furrows of worry rumple his forehead. “Hand me my reading glasses, will you?”
I pass him the glasses, and he scans the papers. “I’m not sure I understand this. What’s a bursary?”
“It’s a scholarship,” I tell him. “The way it was explained to me, none of it has to be repaid. That’s better than what Yale is offering.”
He leans back against the couch and goes over the papers once again, this time more thoroughly. “This does look mighty attractive,” he admits. “Would you live on campus, then?”
“They’ve reserved a small flat for me in the foreign student housing section.” I hand him photos of the apartment. “They say it’s very secure and other American students live there.”
After examining each of the photos, he tugs off his glasses and slumps back. “This is all so sudden, Jade. The idea of being an empty-nester wasn’t so bad when I thought you’d be down the road in New Haven. But Oxford? Are you sure about this? You wouldn’t know a soul. I’d hate to think about you being there all alone.”
I cut my eyes to Asher. We cooked-up an answer for this also.
“Actually, Mr. Beckett, my great aunt lives in the town of Oxford,” he says. “I stayed there often as a kid. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to have me for a visit, and she’d love to meet Jaden. I
thought Auntie Millie and I could show her around a little.”
Dad raises an eyebrow. “That’s quite a coincidence.” His voice carries a tinge of suspicion.
Asher shrugs. “My whole family’s from England. I’m a first generation American. My own father’s an Oxford man.”
I cast a cautionary look his way, like don’t get too cute.
“I guess I’ll be a little scared—my first time out of the country and all,” I say. “But it’s such an amazing opportunity, I think I’ll regret it if I don’t go for it.”
