“I don’t know. Around seven, I guess? I have that golf thing today, so I’ll have to leave soon.”
I slept the entire day and night? Wow. So I was having a dream that was basically in real time? Is that even a thing? How come I’m not starving or dying to use the bathroom?
I look at Ed closely. I feel like I’m only seeing him for the first time.
“I missed you,” I say softly.
“I missed you too,” he says, although if I’m being picky, he doesn’t sound like he really means it. Granted, he hasn’t just experienced what I have.
“Do you mind if I join you?” I ask. I feel like the only way I can make everything feel normal is to physically touch him.
“Oh, I’m pretty much done. Sorry.”
He switches off the tap and rubs the excess water from his body with his hands before opening the glass door and reaching out for his towel. I hand it to him, feeling a bit disappointed.
He steps out and looks at his face in the mirror. “Have you got a big day today?”
“Um…” I have no idea. I feel disoriented. It’s going to take me a while to remember my actual life. That dream seemed so real!
Ed pulls on his boxers and golf pants.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You look a bit…confused or something.”
“I’m all right. I just had a weird dream.”
“Ah.” He doesn’t ask what it was about and I don’t know if I’d want to tell him anyway. It was bad enough when he knew I was reading my diary for a couple of hours. Explaining that I essentially just spent a whole day in 1996 would probably not go down too well.
I sit on the bed and watch while Ed finishes dressing.
“Do you want me to make you some breakfast?”
“Thanks, but I should go. I’ll grab a coffee on the way to the golf course.”
I hurry over and give him a tight hug, but he pulls away, smoothing down his shirt. I don’t think he sees my disappointed reaction.
“Did you want to go out for dinner tonight?” he asks, now combing his hair into position.
My face brightens. “That would be nice.”
“I have a client who owns a Japanese restaurant in Hamilton and he’s offered us a free meal. I’ll text you the address and you can meet me there later.”
“Okay, great.” I’m used to Ed’s golf days lasting through to the evening, so I wouldn’t have expected to see him until at least seven anyway.
He leaves and I flop down on the couch, feeling unsettled by both my husband’s aversion to touching me and the events that took place yesterday.
What actually happened between the hours of 10am and 10pm? I glance over at the dining table. My supplement delivery is still lying where I left it.
I hurry over and pick up the Youth Compound. Its label doesn’t contain any other information, apart from the small blurb and directions I read yesterday. Shouldn’t it at least list the active ingredients? It’s Sunday, so I can’t call the company and ask. I go into my study and email them instead, requesting further clarification on the product under the guise of wanting to advertise it more thoroughly to my readers.
Whatever was in it was crazy strong if it kept me asleep all day AND all night. They really need to put a warning on it.
Something suddenly occurs to me.
I race into the garage and locate the box from yesterday. I find my diary again and yank it open to yesterday’s date.
It’s the same entry I read yesterday morning before I passed out. And even though I didn’t get a chance to finish reading it, there’s enough information in the first half to know it’s not the same events I just experienced.
Mum was all mad because I hadn’t done enough around the house or something…she has no idea how busy my life is!
Well, obviously that didn’t happen this time around, because I offered to do the laundry. And there’s no mention of going to The Palace with her. Or meeting Kurt.
So what does that mean? Maybe I really was just dreaming and my brain filled in a few extra new details.
I read the last part of the entry that I didn’t get to yesterday.
Anyway, I had to work from 4 – 8 tonight and then Kelsey and I went to Rachel’s party. That’s when things took a turn for the worse…Todd cornered me in Rachel’s bedroom and practically forced himself on me. I was totally not ready to sleep with him and he got really angry when I pushed him away. So I dropped him. It’s kind of a relief in a way. Things were getting way too intense. Now I’m single and free and I can focus on schoolwork for a while. Ha. Yeah right.
Hmm…so last night’s outcome was essentially the same. At least it didn’t get to the point where I was alone with Todd in Rachel’s room.
I carry it back inside, skimming through the next few entries, but they don’t reveal anything particularly exciting. I glance over at the Youth Compound, wondering what would happen if I took some more. In any event, it’s probably not a smart idea to sleep the day away two days in a row. I have a life to attend to here in the present.
I go to the bedroom and put the diary in my bedside drawer, just in case I feel like experimenting later. I slide the Youth Compound in with it and then tidy up the house.
I need to spend some time in reality.
***
The day crawls by. I can’t stop thinking about yesterday and try to distract myself by working on a new recipe—a healthy caramel slice inspired by Grandma Millie’s gift. Seeing her again felt so real! I’m not sure if that makes me happy or sad.
I sneak into the bedroom every now and again and read a couple more pages in my diary. I think I might be losing it.
Ed texts just before six with the address for the Japanese restaurant and to say he’ll be there by seven. I try and keep my mind focused on the here and now, but it’s impossible. Even doing something as simple as straightening my hair reminds me of the crimper I used yesterday. I spritz some Armani Si onto my neck—which was a gift from Ed last birthday—and find myself comparing it to CK One. The Armani doesn’t seem to have as many fun memories attached. Hmm…
My outfit tonight is designed to hide my widening hips—a tan dress with an empire-cut waistline that ends just above my knees. I feel myself longing for the perfectly shaped body I had as a sixteen-year-old. I eat well these days and I go to the gym a few times a week, but there’s no hiding the fact that age is starting to take its toll.
At six-fifteen, I head down to the city cat and catch it across to Hamilton. When I get to the restaurant, Ed hasn’t yet arrived so I wait alone.
I get out my phone and open Facebook. Without even thinking, my fingers type in Kelsey’s name. I find her immediately, thanks to a couple of mutual friends and the fact that she hasn’t changed her surname.
Her profile photo is typically her—pretending to kiss the camera. She has her privacy settings set to high, so I can’t find out much else. I contemplate sending her a friend request but decide against it for now. She probably still hates me.
“Hey, babe.” Ed appears at the table and sits down opposite me.
“Hey.”
He leans back in his seat. “Good day?”
“Not too bad. I did a new blog post and tidied up the house.”
“That’s it?”
I know he doesn’t mean to sound uncaring, but Ed has never understood my job. He thinks I spend half an hour actually working, and the rest of the time bumming around. He doesn’t know that I have to research stuff, and that social media and marketing are also a big part of what I do.
“I think maybe I was a bit sick,” I say to avoid an argument. “My brain wasn’t working at full capacity today.”
He smiles wryly. “My brain doesn’t seem to want to ever work at full capacity.” He then rattles on about office politics and how it carried over into his golf day today. A waitress takes our order and Ed selects all the food. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but today it annoys me. I don’t know why.
I study the man I married. He has a str
ong jaw and a very attractive face with deep blue eyes. His hair is dark blonde, and while it isn’t super thick, he knows how to style it to his advantage. If you had shown me a photo of him when I was sixteen, I would have squealed with delight. I don’t know about this emotional distance, though. That’s definitely not something I’d have been impressed by.
“What?” he says, looking at me.
“What do you mean, what?” I say.
“You’re staring at me.”
“Am I? Sorry.” I should try and make an effort to snap out of my mood. “I was just thinking what a hottie I have for a husband.”
He laughs. “Oh? Well, I have a pretty hot wife too. I guess we’re both lucky.”
I beam. That’s more like it. We haven’t had a proper conversation in ages. When Ed is busy, I tend to find my own activities to fill the time, rather than asking him to restructure his schedule to allow more opportunities for us to be together. But maybe I should try harder.
“We should plan a trip,” I say suddenly.
“Do you think so? Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. Hawaii?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Hawaii?”
“You don’t like Hawaii?”
“I was thinking maybe somewhere a bit more sophisticated. Like Prague.”
“Oh. Yeah, Prague sounds nice.”
“It just has such great architecture. I would love to go back and take you to my favourite places.”
Ed went to Prague when he did a tour of Europe before we met. He talks about it a lot.
“Sure.”
“I guess we could do a stopover in Hawaii if you really want to,” he concedes.
“No, no. It was just a suggestion.” The idea of only being able to spend a day or two in Hawaii sounds worse than not going at all. I would hate to arrive and just start to relax and then have to leave.
“I’ll get my assistant to do some preliminary research for us next week,” he says.
“Great.”
I should be happier. We’re planning a proper holiday. Time away from work and everyday life. It will be awesome.
I just can’t help but feel like I don’t really get a say. Why does Ed’s assistant get to research our holiday? But I can’t exactly say I can do it myself, because I just got annoyed that he thinks I have too much free time.
A waitress pours me some wine and I take a sip.
I’m being silly. Everything is fine.
Completely fine.
SEVEN
I’m woken on Monday morning by Ed making a racket as he finishes showering and changing.
“Is it earlier than usual?” I ask sleepily.
He stands at the foot of the bed, brushing his teeth. “Only a little. I’m going to Melbourne today, remember?”
I sit up. “What?”
“I told you about this weeks ago.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“How long are you away for?”
He goes into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste and talks from there. “Until Friday.”
I shake my head as if to rattle the memory loose. Surely I wouldn’t have forgotten something like that.
He reappears, doing his tie. “Just stay in bed and relax.” He sees my confused expression. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I know I’m not acting fine, but I don’t know whether to be annoyed at Ed for not telling me about his business trip, or myself for forgetting.
He breezes past, giving me a quick peck on the cheek.
“I’ll call you tonight.”
I half-heartedly wave and watch him leave.
I don’t know if it’s because of the events of the last couple of days, but everything feels wrong. Like I don’t quite fit.
Maybe I’ve just noticed that Ed is more standoffish than usual. I’m sure he wasn’t always like this. When we first got together, it took him a while to open up, but I know we’ve shared some genuine intimate moments over the years.
When he gets back at the end of the week, I’m going to make him sit down with me for a proper talk. See what’s going on in that brain of his.
I can’t go back to sleep, so I lie there and stare at the ceiling. When I hear the front door open and close, I get up and make myself a cup of tea.
I sit at the kitchen counter, thinking about the jar of Youth Compound. If I took it again, would the same thing happen? Was the first time just a one-off delusion? Would I maybe go back to a different point in my personal history? Knowing that the effects don’t seem to affect this reality and only last for a day makes it all very tempting.
And if I got the chance to see Grandma Millie again…
Because I worked over the weekend, I don’t really need to do another post this morning. Either way, I could always do an extra one tomorrow to make up for it.
I have a quick shower and change into some yoga pants and a comfy t-shirt. I then check my phone to make sure I don’t have any messages that need a reply within the next twelve hours. There’s one from my mum, thanking me for the gerberas and promising to call me when she has more energy. The rest of my emails aren’t urgent and can wait until tomorrow.
I mix up a glass of the foul-tasting concoction and gulp it down as quickly as possible. Knowing that I’ll probably start to feel dizzy any moment, I hurry to the bedroom and lie down.
But nothing happens.
How long did it take last time? I guess it was just a strange combination of…
Whoa. Okay. Here we go.
I’m slightly better prepared this time, but still a little scared. What if this stuff has unintended side effects? And what if it’s doing permanent damage to my brain?
Too late to worry about that now.
I grab a fistful of bedcovers with each hand as the pressure builds in my head. I have only passed out a couple of times in my life before the other day—one when I had a really bad flu three years ago—and one when I was twenty-one and got drunk on my birthday. Both weren’t particularly pleasant, and this isn’t either.
I’m unaware of time passing, but I open my eyes after a moment and see that I’m back in 1996. Or at least I assume I am. I’m in my old bedroom this time. The one I was so glad to see again two days ago. I open my diary to confirm the date and see that it’s Monday now. The same date as the future. The clock on my bedside cabinet says it’s almost 8am.
Someone bangs on the door.
“Anna? Are you up? You’re going to be late for school!”
Mum.
“Uh, yeah. I’ll be down soon!”
I jump out of bed and put on my uniform. What time does school start? Was it eight thirty or nine?
I quickly stop by the bathroom and brush my teeth. Halfway through, I realise I probably don’t need to follow the rules if whatever I do here doesn’t change the future. What if I just stayed home? Or cut class? Technically, I should be able to do whatever I want.
I’m just contemplating the possibilities when Mum appears in the doorway.
“Come on, I’ll give you a lift this morning. Amy already left half an hour ago.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll walk.” A morning at home will give me time to work out how to make the most of the next twelve hours.
“Don’t be silly. You don’t have time. Grab your stuff. I’m going now.”
I want to argue more, but it feels wrong. I don’t want 1996 Mum to be mad at me. She was so impressed by my behaviour the other day that I don’t want to mess it up now. I mean, there’s a chance she might not remember it happened, but still.
“Okay.” I figure I can always sneak off the school grounds later.
Mum heads to the garage. I see my school bag near the door and pick it up on the way to join my mother in the car.
My old school is only a couple of minutes’ drive away, so I actually end up arriving just as the first bell is ringing. Mum seemed distracted, so I didn’t bother striking up a conversation. I was too busy cont
emplating my next move anyway.
“Are you all right to walk home this afternoon?” she asks as I get out of the car.
“Yep. Thanks. And thanks for the lift!”
I hurry down past the office and hall and then realise I have no idea where I’m going. I stop and stare at the building where I think the homerooms are located.
There are a few stragglers ahead of me. I recognise one girl who I’m pretty sure was in my homeroom. I follow her to the second floor of the building and to a room at the far right. I know I have a locker, but I can’t remember where that might be. Jeez. I should have planned this better.
I leave my bag near the door and hurry over to an empty seat. Everyone else has already arrived. I try and act normally, but it’s not easy. I feel so self-conscious and wonder if I’ve somehow slipped into a more generic dream. All I need now is to look down and discover I’m only in my underwear.
Thankfully that doesn’t happen, but it’s still weird. I didn’t enjoy school the first time, and I can’t imagine I’m going to enjoy it any more now.
Kelsey shoots me a quick smile from the other side of the room. I smile back.
Our teacher, Mr. Simmons, calls the roll.
Ugh. Why am I here?
“Anna?”
“Here.”
Mr. Simmons announces a bunch of stuff that means absolutely nothing to me and then excuses us. Kelsey hurries over.
“Are you worried about seeing Todd today?” she asks.
“No. Should I be?”
“Well, you did break his heart the other night. He’s probably not going to be in a very good mood.”
“That’s his problem.”
“Ooh. You’re tough.”
“He did try to force himself on me,” I point out. Something occurs to me. “Hey, on Saturday morning, do you remember what we talked about?”
She wrinkles her nose. “What do you mean?”
“Was I acting weird on Saturday morning?”
“You’re always acting weird. You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Was I asking what date it was and saying I looked really young?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Not that I can recall, but I was half asleep most of the morning. You probably could have said anything and I wouldn’t have noticed. Why?”
1996 (90s Flashback Series) Page 5