“I saw Sammy,” Jack said. “He works at the garage, Sam’s Garage.”
“That must’ve been his dad.” She shook her head and offered him a miniature bottle of vodka.
He shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed. “No, it was him, he was like fifty, but it was him.”
“Yeah, that’s his dad.”
“You’re not thinking Peg. I saw him here, in this time. So, he would be about fifty. He told me to come get you.”
“Why didn’t he come get me himself if he’s so alive?” She crawled back under the covers.
“He said he was going to freak you out because he was all old, something about it was my job to get you. But he gave me his car.”
“What car?”
“A Mustang. It’s downstairs, come see.”
She stood in front of the Mustang in her sweatpants and dirty hair with her jaw on the floor.
“He's alive, Peg. I don't know how, but he is. There's no way in hell I would make this up. Why would I?”
She ran back through the casino of the hotel and up the stairs with him right on her heels.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Packing.”
“You can't drive, you've been drinking.”
“As if I care about that,” she stopped herself and shook her head. “No, you're right. You'll drive me.” She was like a whirlwind, grabbing everything and packing it all into her duffel bag within minutes.
“And what will happen to your car?”
“You'll get the bus back to Vegas. I’m paid up for the week, so you can stay here if you want, bring Jayne. You can pick it up then,” she said, zipping up the bag.
“And then what?”
“Keep it.”
“I'm not driving that thing.”
“Sell it, whatever, I don't care.”
Jack picked up her bag and walked to the door.
“Let’s get lattes to go,” she said, instantly returning to her usual self.
He wanted her to be happy. He loved her enough to want that for her and it made him want to cry, but he couldn’t cry in front of her, so he just nodded at her and carried her bag to the coffee shop.
“I'm not sure we're meant to drink these in the car,” she said putting her massive drink in the cup holder.
“Sammy Ruthven doesn't always lend me his car, but when he does I put soy lattes in the cup holders.”
Peggy laughed.
“So now what?” Jack asked.
“Let's go home.”
Forty-Nine
The Parentals
In a strange twist of fate, Peggy's parents were home when they got back early the next morning.
“Magz, is that you?” called her mother from the kitchen.
Jack and Peggy exchanged looks. She could hardly remember the last time she'd seen her mom.
“We were just talking,” her mom continued, leaning on the door frame between rooms. “We're going to take you out for lunch today.”
“Seems like ages since we've done that,” her father chimed in, appearing from the kitchen with two coffee cups. “Jack, you are welcome to come too of course,” her father added, noticing Jack standing slack-jawed behind Peggy.
Peggy said nothing. What was there to say? I'm a time traveler and I have to go back to 1983 today and I won't be back again?
“We have to be back by two though,” her mother said. “I've got a conference call.”
Peggy rolled her eyes, of course her mother had a conference call. Even lunch out with her parents for the first time in years would have to be cut short as, once again, work takes priority in their lives.
“I can't,” said Peggy, “I've got plans.”
“I think you can cancel your plans Magz. It's rare we get to do this.” Her father was not asking her to change her plans, he was making a demand.
“No,” she said, taking a step backwards.
Her mother's eyebrows shot up.
“Don't say no to your father Magz,” she tutted. “We never get to see you, make an effort.”
“You never get to see me because you’re never here. You’re always at work, on a trip or just away somewhere. Why should I change my plans, so I can spend two hours of your precious time out at some fancy restaurant listening to you both talking BS?”
Her mother looked horrified and her father was dumbfounded.
“I meant business, not bullshit,” Peggy said softening her tone. She thought of Lacey and took another step backwards.
“I don't know who you've become Magz, but I'm not sure I like this new you,” her father shook his head. “We'll go without you, we don't want to lose our reservation.”
“Of course you don't,” she said.
“And do you mind,” continued her father, “explaining exactly where your mother’s car is?”
“It's at the garage, I crashed it,” Peggy said bluntly.
“Magz, I don't believe this is you!” said her mother.
“You don't even know me, either of you.”
“That's not fair.” Her father didn't even look up from his coffee.
Peggy felt the stinging frustration behind her eyes again, but this time she would not let it come. These people weren't worth her tears. They were like paper-doll versions of her family offering a short lunch in exchange for months and months away at a time. A complete lack of knowledge about her life, her interests, how she spent her days, they knew nothing about her. She had raised herself while they had been worried about losing their reservations. Then she had met Janet, who in days had taken her in and shown her what a real family was.
“It's getting fixed,” Jack added.
“Well, as long as it’s getting fixed. But you could have told me.” Her mother didn't know quite what to say. She had never had to reprimand her daughter for anything before.
“We can talk about it at lunch,” her father went on.
“I'm not going to lunch, Dad,” even the word dad sounded foreign coming from her lips, she so seldom said it. “You don't even listen!”
“Don't expect us to do anything nice for you again then, if this is the way you're going to be,” he finished.
“I never expected you to do anything for me. That's just it.”
Peggy walked towards the stairs, Jack following behind, ready to hold her while she cried, tell her everything was going to be all right, but when they walked into her bedroom, she burst out laughing.
“Are you OK?” he asked, standing by the door as he watched her throw her bag on the bed and start throwing everything around.
“Never better.”
“I, I don't really know what happened down there,” Jack shook his head.
“They aren't my family Jack,” she said, rooting through the bag for something, tossing around clothes and books.
“Well, yeah, they kinda are.”
“Janet is my family.”
“Janet is your teacher.”
“She's the closet thing I've got to a Mom, Jack,” she said grinning, catching the Nevada keyring and Janet's house keys… no, her house keys in her hand.
And then she realized.
“Oh no,” she said, dropping to the bed.
“What is it?” Jack dropped down next to her.
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with terror. “The key.”
“What about it?”
“I threw it in the Grand Canyon.”
“Well that was stupid.”
“What am I going to do?” She grabbed at her chest and looked at him pleadingly. “What do I do?” Now tears did begin to well in her eyes.
“We go see Mrs. Willis,” Jack said, rubbing her back, “and,” he continued, “the key just opens the door. That's all right? They key isn’t magic, it’s the room that is.”
“But how do I get in without it?”
Jack shrugged. “We’ll work it out.”
* * *
“Does she even still live here?” asked Jack, pulling up outside Janet's old house
in the Mustang.
“I don't know,” said Peggy. “I never thought to ask. It looks like it, the plants are still here.” The hanging baskets were a lot wilder and more unkempt, but the house didn't really seem all that different.
She knocked lightly on the door, and when there was no answer, she tried her key and it worked. She pushed open the door and the familiar smell of home reached her nostrils as she smiled. She pushed the door open further and stepped inside.
“She's gone,” said Peggy, looking around the empty house. She looked down at the empty space where the table used to be and ran her foot across the floor where she used to keep her shoes. She walked into the empty lounge room where she had slept all those nights before she'd moved upstairs. Where she'd spent all those nights with Janet and Lacey planning how to save Sammy.
“I just, never thought...” said Peggy.
“Maybe we can call someone, get a forwarding address.”
Jack kept talking but Peggy wasn't listening. She walked up the stairs towards her bedroom as if on autopilot. It felt so much like home, it was exactly the same, although the carpet was worn, and the paint chipped in places. She felt so much as she walked into her old bedroom and looked out the window and down to the street. She thought of the times Sammy had come to pick her up and dropped her off and parked in the driveway, and she looked down at the red Mustang and wondered if it had all been a dream after all, and she was so busy wondering what was real anymore that she almost walked away without seeing it. Almost.
Her hand brushed the window ledge and she heard something fall to the floor. An envelope. She tore it open in a heartbeat. A key fell into her hand and she held it to her pounding chest. And then she unfolded the yellow paper.
* * *
My dearest Peggy,
I’m sorry I never told you he was alive, but I couldn’t. You had to go on your own journey. I knew the path you had to take was the right one for you because I knew exactly what was going to happen. Remember, I’ve seen how it all works out. You were supposed to come back here. Jack was supposed to meet Sammy for reasons I can’t even fully explain now, but it just had to be this way.
I couldn't take away all the pain Peggy, because that wouldn't be letting you live. No one can tell you how to live, or what to do. Not even someone who knows, because, despite everything, I still think things can change. And maybe we did change it. Maybe Sammy was meant to die. Maybe we did stop it, but at what cost? I still wonder about that sometimes. But if we changed it, maybe it was our destiny to change it. Remember that, it might give you some comfort when you are questioning it all.
It still gives me a headache.
So now we come to the answer to the big question that everyone has been waiting for - is it all pre-determined or is it fate?
I think it's both. We are like magnets attracting and repelling events and people in our lives, but at any moment we can still choose.
If you choose something else, if you choose not to go back, I don't know what will happen to me. I don't know if I will forget everything that’s happened over the last thirty-three years. Maybe my memories will be replaced, maybe the me who’s writing this letter will no longer exist, I don’t know.
But I hope you choose us. I hope you choose 1983. I hope you come back to live with me and that you continue to be the daughter I never knew I wanted, the little sister I never had and my best friend.
We are all there waiting for you.
Hope to see you soon.
But remember to choose your own destiny, Peggy.
All my love,
Janet
xxx
* * *
Peggy stumbled down the stairs into Jack's arms. He swung them around her.
“All good?” he asked.
“Better than good,” she said, smiling and wiping her eyes.
He saw the key in her hand and knew this was it, she was gone. Out of his life forever.
“What does this mean for us now?” asked Jack as he drove the Mustang and Peggy straight to school.
“It means we have to break into school. If you don't want to be part of it, I'll understand.”
“Are you crazy? After everything we've been through together, you think I won't help you break into school?”
She grinned.
Jack took a deep breath.
“I don't want to leave you, Jack. All I know is that my life isn't here anymore.”
“Yeah yeah, I know. You don't fit in here in Santolsa, no one gets you, you can't wear your scrunchies without getting your face punched in, but you have options. Move to LA or New York or something. There are other people out there like you Peg, in this century.”
“I know, because you are one of them.”
“Doesn't this seem a little extreme to you? Can't you just keep coming and going? Do you have to stay there forever?”
“Coming and going has been a disaster Jack, and if what Janet says is true, I could get stuck forever there or here. I hope it hasn’t been too long already.”
“What are your parents going to think? Like, you go into the book room and never come out? Some questions are going to be asked. There could be investigations. People will think you died!”
“So, cover for me.”
“How can I cover for that? How can I cover you for thirty-three years?” He stopped the car in the staff lot, all empty except for one security car.
“Tell everyone I went to Canada,” she said.
“On a whim?”
“Sure.”
“For a boy?”
“Even better, makes total sense.” She threw her duffel bag over her shoulder. She turned to Jack. “Bye Jack.” she said shrugging.
“Oh God, no. Don't do this goodbye BS.” Jack looked away.
“If not now, when?”
He looked up at the passing clouds in the never changing bright blue sky and then looked down at her. “Well, crap.” He threw his arms around her and let some of his own tears fall onto her shoulder for a change.
Fifty
Back to her Future
Breaking into school had been easier than they'd anticipated. Jack had made up some story about leaving a thumb drive in a school computer and could he come and check because it had some important college stuff on it. The security guard had let them in, escorting them to the library. Cue Peggy pretending she needed to use the bathroom.
After a few minutes of checking around the backs of computers in the computer lab Jack pulled out a thumb drive from his pocket and shouted, “Found it!”
The security guard looked solemn and asked Jack about the girl. Jack mumbled something about meeting her back at the car and he walked out of the school doors without her, walked towards the Mustang and got in, and that was it.
She was gone.
* * *
There was no security guard waiting for her outside the girl’s toilets in 1983 and she'd had to climb out of a window in the typing lab to get out. But she was back. Back where she belonged, and the musty old school hallway had never smelt better.
Peggy ran as fast as she could through the school grounds, down the hill and out of the gates. She lost steam about halfway down the hill and carried on speed walking, until what seemed like hours later, she finally reached Sammy's street. She stood standing outside his house, puffed, dirty, sweaty, exhausted. But she was here. And he was alive. She burst out laughing, he was alive!
The door opened, as if welcoming her home, and just as she was about to go running into his arms, she saw him with… Rochelle? They were embracing on the porch, she was saying something into his neck. And then she walked to a slick white car in his driveway. Peggy's mind raced at a million thoughts per second as she struggled to work out what was going on. Could he have so quickly fallen back into Rochelle’s arms? Surely, he wasn't that stupid, after everything. He didn’t even like Rochelle. She waited until Rochelle had driven away before slowly emerging from the bushes.
Peggy lifted her hand to knock on the door,
her hand shaking, her stomach churning. She’d never felt so nervous, excited, confused and angry all at the same time.
When the door opened, Peggy frowned. A blonde girl of about eleven or twelve looked up at her confused.
“You must be Jessie,” Peggy said.
The girl just kept looking at her.
Peggy rolled her eyes, of course, Jessie was deaf. Peggy waved and smiled at the girl who looked even more confused.
“Is Sammy home?” Peggy asked. “Sammy?” she asked again slowly.
The girl ran away, leaving the door wide open.
She could hear him talking inside the house and her insides flipped. He was alive, it was true. She gasped when she saw him, standing in front of her, he looked tired, older. His hair was a mess and he was dressed in a dirty old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He was a much lesser version of himself.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“You're alive,” she gasped, throwing her arms around him.
But he didn't move. “You noticed?”
“I thought you were dead,” she said, letting her arms fall. Why wasn't he hugging her back?
“You thought I was dead huh? So, what? You ran off back to Canada or wherever it is that you’re from without even telling anyone?”
This was so not how this was meant to go.
“As soon as I found out, I came straight here,” she said shaking her head in disbelief.
“You have no idea,” he held up a hand in front of him.
“No idea? I thought you were dead! How do you think I felt?”
“How do I think you felt? How do you think we all felt? We've been here going through hell and you... you just left.”
“I'm sorry,” she said, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “Is Rochelle, are you and Rochelle...?”
“Me and Rochelle are nothing that concerns you now.” His voice was hard, the Sammy she loved was behind a brick wall of anger. She thought he’d be pleased to see her, to run into her arms and they’d be together forever.
Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance Page 30
