“It’s gone.” Jeanie wiped her hand as if swiping across a clean pane of glass. “You hit reset.”
“Amazing.” Clara shook her head in disbelief.
Jeanie whisked out a familiar 5x7 card. “OK, now, you know the drill. Follow your itinerary.”
“I can’t go see Brad right now?”
“Clara,” Jeanie admonished in a you-know-better-than-that tone. “Enjoy your day! The sun is shining. Go to the park with Jessica. Have fun!”
“OK, OK.”
“And just change the one thing you need changed.”
“I know, I remember.” Clara sighed.
“The guys at the office are always talking about this Ray Bradbury short story. It’s about some guy who went back in time and he stepped off the path even though he wasn’t supposed to and killed a butterfly. But, anyway.” Jeanie waved her hand impatiently in the air. “I’m sure it’s a huge exaggeration but I get the point. The butterfly effect. With time travel there can be unintended consequences.”
“The butterfly effect?” Clara vaguely remembered an Ashton Kutcher movie about time travel and lots of things going horribly wrong.
“Don’t get paranoid. Just, go through your day as it was.”
“I shouldn’t worry?”
“Well, worry enough that you don’t do anything wildly different. I know it’s tempting to pick up a phone and warn the president of Mozambique that a train is about to crash in the town of Tenga. But you can’t.”
Hmm. That gave Clara a moment’s pause. She hadn’t once thought about using this, well, this unique opportunity for something else. Something that could improve other people’s lives.
Jeanie snapped her perfect fingers in front of Clara’s face. “No time for all that, Clara. Hop to it.”
“Right, sorry.”
Jeanie clicked her compact closed and gathered her toiletries. “OK!” She smiled brightly. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Are you off to farm the community garden and scale the famous bell tower?” Clara couldn’t help but tease.
“I enjoy life,” Jeanie agreed. “Sure beats the alternative.” She winked at Clara. “Am I right? Now go get ‘em, champ!” With a towel snap to make any high school football player proud, Jeanie thwacked Clara soundly on the behind and headed out.
A quick shower later, Clara remembered to start firing her computer up to check emails before she got dressed. This baby needed some time.
She pressed ‘play’ on her boombox while she got dressed and out came the familiar sounds from John Mayer’s “Room for Squares.” She sang along as she pulled on clothes. She and Cat had played that CD into the ground and, apparently, every word still remained part of her DNA.
After a hurried “OK, thanks” to Alek’s email suggesting 6pm tutoring, she grabbed her hoodie sweatshirt out of the closet. She’d promised Jeanie she wasn’t going to make any major changes. But if she could remember exactly how to get to the bookstore, she figured she could make a small one.
Outside, the same emerald green grass featured the same students playing Frisbee. The same handsome guy passed her on his bike, giving her a smile and a “’Sup, Clara.”
And that same geeky girl came running over, giant backpack and all.
“Clara? Clara Taylor?” she called out.
“Hey, Jane.” Clara thought she remembered her name.
“You remember me! Jane Henderson from Monte Loma High! I wasn’t sure you would because you were a senior on the cross-country team when I was a freshman, but—”
“Hey, I’m sorry, I’m kind-of in a rush,” Clara interrupted, feeling rude but still.
“Maybe some time we can catch up?” Jane asked eagerly. “I’ve been hoping I’d run into you before you graduate.”
“I’m sorry,” Clara shook her head; she really had to get going. She tripped with her next step, catching her foot on that same tree root that had pushed up through the concrete walkway.
“Watch your step!” Jane called out after her. “That tree root’s a doozy!”
With some quick driving and a lucky parking spot, Clara did still have time to dash into the bookstore and pull up in front of the library steps at 1pm sharp. Tiny Jessica sat there looking frozen in the deceptively bright Ithaca spring sunshine.
“Hey you!” Clara called out. “Got something for ya!” Jessica raced down the stairs with excitement and jumped into the waiting car. She looked much younger than her ten years, her slight frame paired with a childlike gleam of anticipation in her eyes.
“What is it?” Jessica asked.
Clara tossed a bag from the bookstore into the back seat. “See if it fits.” She could hear some rustling as Jessica took out her gift. She’d bought her a matching Cornell hooded sweatshirt in youth size large which she assumed would give her room to grow. She didn’t hear anything else for a bit.
“Is it OK?” At a red light she looked back.
Jessica had on the sweatshirt, hood up and all. She was tying the drawstring cords into a bow under her chin. With the reverence of one admiring priceless art, she murmured, “It’s amazing.”
“Good.” Clara turned back around, eyes on the road, smile on her face. She couldn’t resist peeking into the rearview mirror again once or twice before they arrived at the park. Jessica looked so happy all swallowed up in that sweatshirt.
Out in the park, it wasn’t too difficult to follow Jeanie’s advice: enjoy the day. Admiring butterflies flitting in the wildflowers alongside the pond, Clara breathed in the fresh air of springtime. She took a seat on a park bench and watched the ducks peck over bits of bread that Jessica threw.
Why did she never do this kind of thing back in California? She’d always loved getting outside; her favorite memories from childhood were all set against an outdoors backdrop. Her sister Shelly had hated the bugs and damage to her nails when they’d gone camping as a family, but Clara had loved the peace, beauty, and the sense of losing herself in something much bigger. Watching Jessica hold a leaf and hum to herself, she smiled; as a kid she’d been exactly the same way. Why had she stopped? Traded it all in for a cube and a couch?
She lived in one of the most amazing places on earth. Rockridge had it all, minutes away from both bustling city centers and acres of unspoiled wilderness. In minutes she could hit up some of the worlds’ finest pastry shops, boutiques and brew pubs in Oakland, Berkeley and San Francisco—all the while, never more than 20 minutes away from breathtaking views and secluded trails meandering through the wooded forests of regional parks. A half an hour west and she could reach the coast, exploring rocky beaches or climbing trails that wound around showstopping cliffs.
She promised herself that she’d take more advantage of it. This time, when she got back to her life in the Bay Area with Brad, they’d be out there mountain biking, hiking, sea kayaking. They’d be featured in Outside magazine demoing the latest surfboards, or on the cover of Sunset magazine showcasing their backyard cozy-yet-chic style of entertaining friends.
Jessica stepped back from a particularly noisy honking fight.
“Those ducks means business,” Clara laughed, rising from her bench. “You ready to walk the path?”
“Yeah.” Jessica smiled up, shyly. “I’m nice and warm.” She tucked her hands into the front pocket of the sweatshirt. Clara wrapped an arm around her for a brief hug, feeling the sharp angles of her shoulder bones.
Their feet crunched together on the path. They paused for a moment to watch a red-winged black bird perch on a branch, look down at them quizzically, then fly up to more protected surroundings.
At the clearing, Clara looked up. The snack hut sat on a gently rounded hill. And there inside, in shadow under the awning, she believed she could make out Mr. Novak. Hunched over a textbook, no doubt.
“Come on.” Clara brought a comforting hand to Jessica’s back. She gestured over to the snack hut. “I know we usually get a snack after the park, but it’s so sunny and pretty out. Is it OK to get one here today?”
Jessica considered for a moment, clearly wrestling with her preference for routine. But sunshine and a friend, teamed up, could be a strong incentive. She looked up at Clara with big, trusting brown eyes and agreed.
As they approached, Alek did not look up from his book. Clara had to smile. So focused, so determined. That’s how to do it, Alek! She wanted to cheer for him, tell him how some day he’d end up on the cover of the alumni magazine. For something cool, she still hadn’t exactly read the article. But he’d been named the top five of something impressive.
“Hey Alek!” Clara called out, beaming at him.
He looked up and seemed disoriented for a moment, as if the wattage from her smile left him dazed. He looked down, pulled on the brim of his baseball cap, then squinted up at them both. “Hi.”
She noticed he was hunched over, just wearing a t-shirt. He must be freezing, doing nothing but sitting in that hut all morning. “Chilly today.” She rubbed her hands over her forearms.
“Oh, no.” He stood up, straightening himself to his full height. No hunching now. Clara smiled again, imagining his male ancestors giving him a hearty smack on the back. Nothing a true Czech couldn’t handle. He looked away again, seeming disconcerted.
“Sorry to interrupt your studying.” Clara gestured at his textbook.
“You know me, always hitting the books.” He sounded defensive.
“No,” Clara leapt to clarify. “That’s good. You have something you’re really passionate about. It gives your life meaning.” With a shiver, she recalled the cold, sterile world of the New Jersey McMansion. Shopping for lingerie to fuel her affair, lunching with piranhas, getting accused of staging a mock discovery of her husband’s affair so she’d gain enough leverage to purchase the imported Italian tiles.
He looked at her, bemused. “You’re a philosopher this morning.”
“No, I’m, I don’t know…” She shook away the disturbing memories; that future no longer had to exist. Placing a hand on Jessica’s shoulder, she asked, “Would you like a snack?”
Speaking with a more gentle voice, Alek greeted Jessica, “Hi there.”
Jessica murmured something which might have been ‘hi’. She did an even better job than Alek at looking down and away.
“Would you like one of these?” Alek gestured to a box of giant cookies, each in its own wax bag. Looking back to Clara, he added, “They’re baked by someone local. They have nuts in them, but they’re still really good.”
“Yum! Jessica, would you like a cookie?” She knew the answer would be yes. Jessica was a chocolate chip cookie’s number one fan. Even with a gigantic strand of hair in her mouth, Jessica managed a slight nod. “She’d love one,” Clara translated. “How much?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Alek picked up the box and held it down toward Jessica. “Would you like to choose one?”
“No, really, Alek,” Clara protested. “How much are they.”
He shook his head dismissively and returned the box after Jessica had made her selection. “It’s on me.”
“That’s really nice of you.” She watched Jessica take a small, shy bite and smiled.
“Don’t sound so surprised.” He looked up and gave her a grin that, truth be told, left her feeling a bit lightheaded.
Clara turned to Jessica again, this time to compose herself. How had Brad and Jessica gotten along? She tried to recall and then she remembered: they’d never met. She’d invited him to come along a few times, but he was always so busy. Understandable in lacrosse season, of course, but still he hadn’t had the time in winter or fall, either. And, come to think of it, she hadn’t pressed too hard. Now she remembered, she’d always sensed that Brad thought it was weird she chose to spend her Saturday afternoons with a young girl who lived in a trailer and didn’t talk much.
“Thanks,” Jessica mumbled.
“Hope you enjoy it.” Alex smiled again.
Clara found herself not wanting to leave just yet. “Hey, could I have a small coffee?” He turned to fill a paper cup. Quickly, before he could give her another freebie, she put two dollars on the counter. She figured, it being ten years ago, that ought to cover it.
A couple of small grey swallows landed a few feet away, hopped to investigate the scene, then thought better of it and flew up and away, alighting in a majestic weeping willow. Watching them, she marveled, “It’s so beautiful here.”
“Yes, gorgeous,” he agreed, looking at her.
“I think there are trails all around here, too.” She looked out into the lush green, wondering how it was that she’d explored so little during her four years in such a gorgeous spot? “I wish I’d done more hiking while I was in school here.”
“You are in school here.”
“But I’m about to graduate.” Clara quickly rectified her slight slip.
He nodded. “Hard to fit in hiking with all the partying.” That edge had returned to his voice. It never seemed far away.
“Yup. That’s right. That’s all I do.” Clara grasped the coffee in her hands, recalling all of his disdain and mockery in full force.
He exhaled, frustrated. “I’m not trying to be a jerk.”
“No, I know, I partied a lot in college. You’re probably right.” She pushed the dollars toward him, feeling overly deflated. She didn’t know why his disdain stung so much.
“Clara.” He put his hand over hers on the counter. She looked up and into his eyes. In his deep, rich voice with that hint of an accent, he insisted, “Let me buy you a coffee.”
And just like that, cue the romantic movie. Clara had the strange sensation that birds stopped winging overhead, the wind remained silent in the trees. Only her heart began beating a rapid tempo as she looked back into his gaze. And those lips! How hadn’t she—how did Cat put it—tapped that?
Blushing, she turned to her coffee cup. She tilted it to take a sip. The plastic lid slipped off and the entire contents of hot liquid splashed all over her chest.
Gasping, she dropped the empty cup to the ground and pulled the steaming sweatshirt from her body. In an instant, she could tell that even though she’d made a huge mess, everything was essentially OK. The coffee was hot, not boiling. Her sweatshirt thick enough that she wasn’t burned.
Alek, however, vaulted over the counter, springing at her like an action hero. “Are you OK? Are you burned?”
“No, I don’t think so, but I’m—”
“I need to get your shirt off!”
Clara had heard a guy say that before, but never quite in this context. Deep in EMT rescue mode, Alek tugged on the sleeves of her sweatshirt. Jessica watched with wide eyes as Alek stripped off both Clara’s sweatshirt and t-shirt in one fell swoop.
“Now some cool water!” He turned, grabbed a clear, plastic pitcher of water from the counter and threw it squarely over the entirety of Clara’s chest.
Clara stood in her bright red lacy bra, dripping and stunned in the afternoon sunshine. Still in motion, Alex grabbed a fistful of white napkins from a dispenser, reached over to wet them under a faucet, and then returned to apply them to the affected area.
“How do you feel?” he asked anxiously as he pressed a wet napkin along the swell of her breast. “Are you all right?”
“Alek,” Clara managed, finding herself beginning a nervous, disbelieving laugh. “Alek.” She brought her fingers to his wrist. His hand was now making its way along the contours of her other breast.
He froze, suddenly realizing that he’d stripped, doused and now stood groping Clara. Hands up as if surrendering to the police, he stepped away from the crime scene. “Oh my god.”
Laughing hard now, Clara bent over, the action serving both to preserve some semblance of modesty and enabling her to retrieve her t-shirt. “It’s OK. I’m OK.”
“It’s burn protocol.” Alek’s face had turned the color of flame.
Clara managed to get her wet t-shirt back on. “Yes, you were trying to help.”
“Remove clothing. Apply wate
r.”
“A whole pitcher of it.” She burst out laughing again and even Jessica started smiling.
“Oh no.” He leaned against the counter, head down, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I did that.”
Clara tried to stop laughing; she knew she was probably making him feel even more awkward. “No, it’s nice. You were trying to help me.” She took hold of his forearm. “Thank you.”
“But you’re OK?” He stood once again, a hint of Emergency Scene Dr. Novak back again to the rescue. “You’re sure you’re not burned?”
“Yes,” Clara nodded. “Soaking wet and embarrassed, but…”
With a groan, Alek brought his head back down to his fingers.
“Really, thank you.” Clara leaned closer, filled with the strongest urge to bring her hand to his face and place a kiss just there, right on his cheekbone. But of course that wouldn’t do. Rocking back onto her heels, she tugged at her soaking wet t-shirt. She brought her hands up to her hair, also wet. He’d really done a thorough job of it. Taking out her elastic band, she flipped all her hair over and tried to ruffle it up and get rid of some of the water. Deciding it was really a lost cause, she stood again, closing her eyes as she swept all of her hair back into a ponytail.
When she looked up she saw Alek watching her, his eyes half-lidded and heavy, his mouth parted. Because there she was, a mere foot away, close enough to reach out and touch if he wanted. And he did want, apparently, as she stood arching her back, her see-through wet white t-shirt molded to her curves.
“Right!” She practically yelled, taking several steps further back and grabbing her sweatshirt. “OK, Jessica.” She didn’t look up at him again, didn’t want to risk further exposure to that look he’d been giving her. Like she was breakfast and he hadn’t eaten for a long time. “We’d better get going.”
Alek reached down to collect the coffee cup.
Deciding a stained sweatshirt promised a far better walk back to the car than a see-through white t-shirt with a red bra, she pulled it over her head.
“Thanks for the cookie!” Jessica surprised Clara by calling out, giving Alek a wave.
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