by Jill Cooper
Donovan sighs and I can tell he’s suppressing how he’s feeling. “We can work through this. I know we can.”
“I want to, but I’m going to need more time. I didn’t want you to worry about me. I’ll call tonight, maybe? Okay?”
There’s silence on the other end and I’m worried that I’ve lost him. Maybe he’s hung up and given up on me already. “All right,” his answer comes out smooth. “I’ll talk to you tonight. I love you, Lara.”
I focus on the ceiling and I can’t control my tears any longer, and I can’t speak. I hang up the phone and hold onto the wall, feeling that if I let go, everything in me will slip away. There will be nothing left of Lara Montgomery James.
I wanted to be his wife so bad and now I’m drowning. I’m drowning in doubt and grief and I don’t know what to do.
Wiping my cheeks clean, I hear voices that I instantly recognize coming from beyond the door. It’s Mike and Molly hanging out with Jax in the living room. Shouldn’t they be in school already?
I push the door open enough to hear. Molly’s voice rises the most and it’s easy to pick up what she says. “We didn’t really get much time to talk after dinner the other night. I was wondering where you and Morgan met?”
Jax is relaxed as he answers. “At a work conference. She had heard of my firm and we set up a meeting. We worked together well, jived—”
“Jived?” Molly asks. “Really, Dad. No one jives anymore.”
I grin at her energy and Jax laughs. “I asked her to dinner and the rest was history. It moved pretty fast after that. Nothing will ever replace your mother for me, Morgan knows that, I hope you know that, too.”
“This isn’t about that,” Mike says, and his voice is lower. He always sounds more serious than Molly and this time is no exception. “Hey, have you ever heard of a place called Trident Technology.”
That’s the same company that I found on Morgan’s business card. I close the door and slip back inside the kitchen. If Molly is there and asking questions about Morgan and this company, something’s going on. I want to help, or be part of whatever is going on. Which means, I need to pull up my big girl pants and stop dwelling on my own problems.
I take a deep breath and fix my hair before going into the living room. Molly looks happy to see me as I saunter in, but Mike stands to greet me. “Lara, hey. You okay?”
Everyone is always asking me that. “It’s like I have a sign on my head that says I’m not okay, but for now, I am.”
Mike’s face twitches with a half-smile but his eyes are kind. “I’m glad.”
“Sorry if I came off snarky. I didn’t mean to. Just haven’t been sleeping very well. But Dad here still makes a mean breakfast.”
Jax grins and Molly crosses her legs, barely looking at me. I have to wonder why she’s avoiding making eye contact. Usually you can’t shut her up. I sit next to her on the sofa and force her to move over closer to Jax.
“So, what are you guys talking about?” I gaze around at each of them. Jax is relaxed, but Molly sits like a stiff board and Mike keeps chewing on is thumbnail.
“Nothing really,” Molly says, “just—”
“Morgan,” Jax corrects. “But it’s okay. I know I didn’t give you very much time to get used to her and that was my fault. We’re an open book.”
I watch Molly as I talk. “She was here when I got here last night. She seems nice.”
Her head whips to me and her eyebrows rise. “Really? Did she…spend the night?”
“Molly!” Jax and Mike chastise her together.
I grin. “She left. I think I kind of ruined things.”
“You didn’t,” Jax assures me and I shrug in response.
“Anyway, she left her bag up in our spare room and I moved it out into the hall. Business card fell out. Was pretty nice. Cool hologram logo. Anyway, I was stopping in to say hi. I was going to go visit Cassidy and see how she’s doing.” I wipe my palms on my skinny jeans before I rise to my feet.
I head toward the front door and Molly chases after me. “Lara, wait!”
I’m half out the door when I turn back to her. “Yeah?” I’m not mad at Molly, at least I don’t think I am, but I sound it. Boy, do I sound angry and bitter. I hate it. She’s my baby sister and whatever she did or didn’t tell me, I can’t hold it against her.
Except I am, and I can’t let it drop.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Cassidy and Don. Please don’t hate me.”
“Did he call and tell you that?” I can barely even look at her. She’s my sister, I’ve sacrificed so much for her and I feel like a cavern is opening between us that I can’t stop. I’d lived in that damn cage for two years because I’d wanted to find a way to save her.
This is the thanks I get?
Molly shakes her head. “I can see it. Sense it. No one wanted to hurt you. I know we made the wrong choices and I’m sorry. Everyone’s been so confused.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I’m sorry that I can’t move on from this instantly. I need a little time, okay?” I force myself to touch her hair, show her affection, but when she smiles I genuinely feel better.
“Okay,” her button nose scrunches up. “Just whatever you do, be careful.”
“You’ll have to tell me soon why you’re asking me so many questions about Morgan. If there’s something I can do to help with whatever is going on….”
Molly’s mouth falls open in the worst case of poker face I’ve ever seen. “Guess there’s no pulling one over on you.”
I shrug. “I’m Lara Crane, right? That used to count for something.”
She looks on me with sadness. “It still does. I know you don’t feel like it right now, but it’ll come back.”
All the years of time travel, all the years of trying to fix everything, I never thought I’d feel so lost when it all went away.
“Rex is still out there. He still wants to get revenge on me, so you be careful.”
Molly scowls. “I haven’t seen any evidence of Rex being anywhere. What makes you so sure?”
“He sent me a note. Maybe two.” I bit my lip. “Just be careful. If you need a time traveler, I guess you’d better get Cassidy.”
I turn from her and walk out. I’m not ready for her to see how crestfallen I am. I’m not prepared for her to see me cry.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Cassidy
I pick up paper plates and cups from my meal the night before and throw them into the trash can in the kitchen. It smells stale and it turns my already upset stomach. When I get back into the living room, Donovan ends his phone call with Lara.
He lies to her some more. We all do. We’re caught in an endless loop of lies.
I watch from the doorway as he sits on the sofa, a distraught far-off look on his face. There’s nothing I can do to help him, and I feel horrible. “Why didn’t you tell her you were here?” I need the answer for me as much as for Lara.
Donovan shakes his head as he slides the phone into his pocket. “There’d be too many questions on why. What we were doing. It’s better if she hears everything from you. She doesn’t trust me right now.” He sighs and folds his hands, a mournful cloud above his head.
“And you think she’ll trust me?” I laugh, and I hold onto my emotions tight so they won’t get away from me. “She’s everything to me, Don. She risked so much to save me, so I could have a family. Then she destroyed herself to save us and look what we did.” I take a deep breath and say what hurts me the most. “We’re destroying her.”
“We can fix it.”
I shake my head. He’s so desperate, he’s clinging to straws. “What if we can’t? What if we can’t undo what we’ve already done?”
“We will. I know we will. We just have to give it time. Once her body and mind fully cement into each other, we can beg her for forgiveness. But not until then. Promise me, Cass. Tell her what you have to about us, but you can’t tell her what we did. Promise.”
&n
bsp; His eyes are intense and beneath them, I nod. I don’t want to be the one who is responsible for hurting Lara or Donovan any further. Only if I have to. “I promise.”
Things were so much simpler when I’d thought the worst thing I had done was fall in love with Donovan James. I wish that had been the worst of it. I shift my gaze away from him as he heads for the door. There’s no joy in our meetings, no happiness in being together. I think on the words Molly said on the bridge and realize how right she was.
“This will destroy us.”
We might never get back to how we used to be.
****
I get ready for work. I take a shower and dress in skinny jeans, paired with a purple t-shirt and a blue blazer. My blond hair is tied back at the nape of my neck and I slip a long necklace on. By the time there’s a knock at my door, I’ve almost forgotten that I’m dreading a visit from Lara.
But when I pull the door open and see her, my world shatters. She’s more frazzled than ever before with her short hair and exhaustion rings her eyes. Lara looks on me with sadness and she speaks in a quiet, miniscule voice. “Can I come in?”
That’s not the Lara I’ve come to love. Now I can understand why Donovan’s been coming apart at the seams. I nod and back up. “You never have to ask.”
Lara walks past me, and a chill races through me from how frosty she regards me. She stands in the center of the living room and folds her hands. “Before we start, I need you to understand that I know everything. Don didn’t deny it. I saw evidence of it. In the altered timeline…your relationship with Donovan,” Lara’s voice quivers as she turns around to face me and I see some of the Crane strength in her eyes, “I know everything.”
I push my lips together and fight the initial urge to make excuses, to fight and explain it all away.
Lara’s eyes fill with tears and her sob nearly breaks up her words. “I just wish you had told me.”
I can’t control myself. I run over to her and hug her. I want to make it better. I want to make her understand how hard it’s been on not just her, but all of us. Lara shrugs me off. The only thing worse than what she’s feeling is me touching her.
“You were like my sister,” Lara explains and my heart is crushed by her words. “You could’ve told me anything and I would’ve forgiven you.”
Her words destroy me. “We didn’t know what to do. You just finished saving the world. I was reeling from what happened. You and Don were happy, married. I didn’t want to ruin that. I wanted to forget. Pretend. Can you understand how hard it’s been on me? Him?”
I’m blinded by her words. How hard it’s been on them? What about me? “To find out from a picture? Do you know what that felt like? I thought I could trust you, Cassidy. We’re family. A-Team.” Lara covers her face so as not to face me, or maybe so I won’t see her cry.
I focus on what she said. “A picture? Who sent you a picture?”
“It was inside the old clock I bought. Does it matter?” Lara’s voice escalates to a near-shrill level.
“It matters because you have to think about what it is they want. To tell you the truth? Or drive us apart? I’d want to speak to them and find out why.”
“You’re deflecting.”
I sigh and chew on my inside lip. “I don’t mean to.”
“It was a mistake to come here.” Lara walks passed me. “I just wanted to tell you I know.”
“What will you do next?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’ve been staying with Jax. He…doesn’t ask too many prying questions.” I can sense how lost and helpless she’s feeling. It’s a version of Lara I’ve never seen before and it scares me. I think it’s coming from the other Lara and I wish I knew how to stop it. I wish I knew how to tell her.
“Don loves you. All he thought about when the timeline reset was you and how he’d make it up to you.”
Lara’s quiet and slowly she turns around. “Do you love him?”
I startle at her question and then blink slowly. “Pardon?”
“I can hear it in your voice,” she says sadly. “Whatever the altered timeline left behind, you’re still carrying what you felt for him there, aren’t you?”
I swallow slowly, my throat so dry it gets caught. “It’s not real. I know that. Remnant memories of things that never really happened. It’ll fade with time. Either case, he’s yours. Not mine.”
“I’m not sure he ever really was.”
“Lara,” I whisper, eyes wide. “Don’t say that. It’s not true. You know it’s not true. He’d do anything for you.”
“Maybe what you’re saying is true, but I don’t know anymore. I’ve been confused. Seeing flashes of things that aren’t real. The headaches won’t stop. My ability to time travel is gone but something happened last night…I want to talk to you about it, but I feel like now isn’t the best time.”
I nod and feel like she’s ripped my heart out. “I hope soon you’ll think kinder of me.” Tears fall from my eyes and I don’t bother to wipe them away. It hurts too much to move, to breathe.
“I hope so. How I’m feeling right now…it’s crushing me. Nothing right now feels like me. I’m lost in myself…like I’m a stranger.” She opens the door and I want to call out to her. I want to tell her everything, why she feels the way she does.
The truth can help heal her, I know I can. “Lara, wait…” I chase after her into the hallway.
When she turns around and looks at me, sadness and uncertainty in her eyes, I chicken out. I’m afraid she wouldn’t believe me. “Go home to Donovan soon. Put things together. Get some rest. I hate the idea of you being alone.”
“Sometimes to move forward, you have to be alone. But thanks for caring.” Lara continues down the hall and I don’t know what’s next for her.
Next for any of us.
****
I use the bridge to make sure Donovan and Lara’s apartment is clear. When I find it’s proven to be empty, I open a portal from the bridge into their living room for a look around. I’m looking for a clock and I find it on the mantel. Picking it up, I twirl it around and don’t see anything that points me in any directions.
With a sigh, I place it back and put my hands on my hips. My glance falls to the floor and a paper bag beside the fireplace. Curious, I pick it up and read the front. [Clock Repair Shop.] Huh, that’s precisely what I’m looking for. If a photo of Don and I kissing had made its way inside this clock, maybe this repair shop would know about it.
And maybe I’ll find who is out to get Lara. Out to get all of us. If I find out it’s Rex, or some version of Rex, there will be hell to pay.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Cassidy
The Union Square Clock Repair Shop isn’t far from Lara’s apartment. It’s shortly after 10 A.M. and it’s dark inside. The closed sign hangs in the window, surrounded by antique clocks of varying types—even an old-fashioned cuckoo clock. The door won’t budge when I yank on it either. The place is locked down tight.
With a sigh, I glance around to make sure that no one is around. Then I take out a small zipper pouch from my purse and retrieve my lockpicks. Good thing my mother hasn’t been born yet, she’d have a few things to say about what I’m about to do.
It takes only a few minutes for me to unlock the door and sneak inside. I close it again and draw the blinds down. I start toward the back of the shop, moving past a glass counter top and the floorboards squeak on my approach.
The air is musty and I pick up the aroma of lemon cleaner. I place my hands down on the counter and peer off in the distance where I think I saw a light shine. “Hello?”
No answer, but my nerves hold true. I leap over the counter and go through the different drawers, looking for answers on who owns this place. I find receipts and schedules, but little else. Next, I open the antique cash register that looks like it’s from the old wild west saloon days. There’s money, but it leads me no closer to who I’m looking for.
Except for clocks on the glass countertops, the pl
ace is sparse in terms of belongings, but has a home business feel. Not the type of place that Rex is famous for hanging out in. He liked sterile labs or expensive digs. If Rex isn’t the one pulling the strings, then who else could it be?
Someone new? Someone dangerous?
I head toward the back, staying close to the wall in case I need to sneak past someone toward an exit. Along the wall is a low bookcase and above it are framed photos. A few of an older woman, in black-and-white photos from the turn of the century. Her white hair is done up in a spiral twist and her dresses are ankle-length. Elegant and covered in ruffles and twists, she has a delicate frame.
A sweet yet stoic face. In each photo, she’s holding a cane.
I keep walking on and I stop when I hear footsteps coming from behind a closed door up ahead. She’s humming quietly to herself and takes a break to say, “Is someone there?”
Something about her voice causes me to pause. It’s warbles like an old woman’s voice but there’s clarity to it and kindness. I wonder if I’ve made a mistake and I want to hurry away, but if she can shed light on how that picture got into the clock…if she’s the one that put it there.
I take a deep breath, pull down my jacket and step up to the door.
“Okay.” I try to distance myself by walking over toward the mantel. I take in the sight of the new clock Lara’s bought. I almost touch it, but stop myself as she calls out. Ready to knock, my fist hovers in mid-air but before I get a chance, the door is pulled open.
The old woman is quite a bit shorter than I am. Her white hair is piled on top of her head in an old-style bun and she wears bifocals. She smiles kindly and she grips a jewel-encrusted cane with her left hand.
“I knew it would be you who came. I knew.” She heads back into the small apartment and I feel as if I’m supposed to follow her.
“I’ll put on the kettle. You make yourself comfortable.”
I walk inside and the questions swirl inside my head. While the old woman goes about her business in the cramped kitchen, I walk through the sitting area. There’s an old white sofa with burgundy and gold toss pillows. A rocking chair, a small end table and one of the smallest televisions I’ve seen.