by Terry Segan
“I’m getting a bit lost here, honey.” I stopped walking. “If April loved Tony, how did she end up with Carney?”
“He met her at Macy’s a few days later.” Another sweep of his hand through his hair. We came to a bench and sat down. I listened to the raucous call of the seagulls while waiting for him to go on.
Finally, taking a deep breath, he continued. “That Saturday I worked the lunch shift. When I got home, I found a note from Carney telling me to meet him at Liquid Stylings at nine o’clock. It seemed a little odd, but I went.
“I arrived first. A different bartender brought me my beer while Tony chatted with a couple of patrons at the other end of the bar. Carney walked in escorting April. Before I could greet her by name, he introduced us as if she and I were strangers. She didn’t appear to know me. He explained how he met her at Macy’s while buying perfume for his mom’s birthday and had invited April to dinner. They were rounding off the night with drinks. Carney led the conversation as if we just happened to run into each other, so I played along thinking it was a joke.
“Tony came over, tossing out a casual greeting, then asked for their drink orders. April ordered a glass of red wine, and he asked her Cabernet or Pinot Noir.”
I did a double take and looked at Jimmy. “What do you mean he asked for her drink order? Didn’t he have it ready?”
“No. They didn’t know each other.”
“How could they not? Unless…” It hit me—unless they hadn’t met! That’s what Jimmy meant. “What did Carney do?”
“At first he wouldn’t tell me. Obviously, whatever he’d done was a result of the time-travel slides.”
Barely able to contain myself, I opened my mouth to guess again. Jimmy held up his hand. When I acquiesced with a nod, he caressed my cheek.
It struck me as odd that this was difficult for him since we were very much in love. He’d said many times how we made the perfect couple. It couldn’t be he was angry at having lost out to Carney, but the way Carney won April seemed wrong as I suspected what he’d done.
Lowering his hand, he placed it on my knee and squeezed gently. “Carney went back in time. He went back and made sure he was the one to stop April’s date. Only there for twenty-four hours, he couldn’t strike up a friendship with her. Not unless he wanted to return a second time and be trapped. This meant she never met Tony. Not in a way that would make her become involved with him. When April saw Carney at work that day, he brought up the incident with her angry date. Of course, she remembered him and agreed to dinner.”
“He misused the slides.”
Jimmy nodded.
Carney’s actions made me angry. “He used them for personal gain. He broke one of the cardinal rules the Frenchman warned you against.”
“I can’t tell you how many times I tried to reason with myself that it couldn’t be considered personal gain since she ended up his Photographer. With her gregarious personality, she was a natural at bringing in Betrotheds. I stopped thinking of how they met and focused on their success together.”
“It was still wrong, honey. You know that.”
“I know, sweetie. But after it was done, what choice did I have? They were so happy.”
“Yes, but what about Tony? Didn’t he deserve to be happy too?” I found this hard to swallow. He accepted the events and did nothing to stop them. But then there would be the paradox of his meddling in timelines he shouldn’t have been involved in either. There was always the possibility that even if he prevented Carney from meeting April, it wouldn’t have assured Tony would still be with her. Once you started messing with timelines, you weren’t guaranteed the original results.
I looked up to see Jimmy watching me carefully, as I worked out the ramifications. He knew I was going through a list of “what ifs” in my head, yet none of the conclusions were good.
“You get there yet?”
I sank back against the bench and nodded. “I do have a question.”
“Yes?”
“I know that we’re aware of both timelines when time is changed during this process. Did April remember her life with Tony once she became a Photographer?”
“No. I guess since it happened before she worked with Carney, she didn’t know events that happened prior.”
After a long silence, I asked, “What happened to April?”
Not getting an immediate response, I watched the activity around us. A mother and her small son walked along the beach where the waves tickled their toes. Each time the cold water touched the little boy, he squealed with delight. The bliss of his innocence made me envious. I often wondered what it would have been like to raise a child. I had relinquished that option when I chose this life.
Jimmy’s cell phone beeped, and he retrieved it from his pocket. Glancing at the screen a grimace crossed his face. “One of my clients,” he said. “She just got served with papers. An unexpected turn in the case. I’m sorry.”
“We need to get to the bottom of this,” I said, surprised he would leave in the middle.
“I know, but this won’t be solved in an hour. I must attend to my legal obligations. Sorry.”
I hesitated a beat, then nodded. “I know. Call me later.”
As Jimmy walked away, an inconsistency struck me. How did Carney go back only six months prior? None of the slides we had allowed such a short hop.
Chapter 8
I didn’t hear from Jimmy until after ten o’clock. He’d stayed later than planned due to his distraught client and decided to go to bed at his townhouse. He was due in court this morning, so the story of April would have to wait.
Sitting at my kitchen table, I robotically brought a coffee mug to my lips, focusing on Dede’s upcoming journey later this morning. This match between her and Milton felt right, yet Carney’s reckless actions intruded on my thoughts. His total disregard for the rules was disturbing enough—his murderous acts unforgivable.
A few minutes before nine o’clock, I went into my office to retrieve the box of film slides from the large safe in the corner of the room. From the three-pack labeled “Milton Freeman,” I withdrew the yellow-framed one that would send Dede back for twenty-four hours and its holder needed to facilitate the time travel. If things went well, she would also use the blue slide that sends her back permanently.
Returning the remaining two slides to the safe, I thought about the red-framed one good for a single emergency twenty-four-hour trip. The memory of going back for Amanda sent a shiver of horror and guilt through me; her fate continued to haunt me.
Grabbing a few hundred dollars from the cash box, I locked the safe and carried all the items to my studio. The money was for the Betrothed to take with her. All the bills were produced before the mid-seventies.
Placing the time portal device next to the cash on the table, I secured the slide and pressed the button on the back. It would take an hour to power up. This set-up was intentionally placed behind the subject. The process didn’t really involve a camera at all, but one was put in front of the Betrothed for effect. Once Dede was seated on the bench, one press of the timer started the thirty-second count down.
I envisioned Dede and Milton with arms around each other, smiling out from his picture on the wall. While fearing Carney’s continued interference with our matches, I also reminded myself this was what I agreed to do. I didn’t want to find out what the consequences were if Jimmy and I quit before fulfilling our quota.
When the doorbell rang at ten o’clock, the familiar hum of adrenaline flowed through my veins. My next Betrothed was here!
As I opened the door, Dede gave me a big hug. “Hi, Sami!” She glowed with excitement—judging by her huge smile.
Such a warm and loving person. More and more I knew this match was meant to be. Jimmy had described Milton as having a caring temperament.
Stepping away from the doorway for her to enter, I noticed she dressed as if it were just another day: a light blue t-shirt and faded denim jeans. The pants were well-worn, but not those f
ancy designer ones.
“I’m so glad you’re here. You look perfect!”
“I know you told me not to fuss, but I had to a bit.”
She looked no different than yesterday.
“Look,” she said, “mascara!” We burst out laughing.
“Then I guess you’re ready to meet Milton!”
“I don’t feel anxious about this meeting. Strange, huh?”
“No, not really. You seemed very comfortable with the idea of him. Maybe that’s why I suggested the two of you meet.”
She looked around with wide eyes and an expectant smile. “Is he here yet?”
“You’ll be going to see him. I hope you’re okay with that.”
Dede thought for a moment, the shine never leaving her face. “That’s okay. Will you be going with me?”
“No, you’ll be meeting him alone.”
“Of course. Milton and I are adults. We shouldn’t need a chaperone!” I wished we’d met under different circumstances. Dede’s friendship would’ve been enjoyable.
The whistle of the kettle reminded me I had put the water on to boil before she arrived. “Let’s have a quick cup of tea while I fill you in on the details.”
She followed me to the kitchen where two mugs with a bag of Earl Grey in each waited. “Have a seat.”
After pouring the water into the cups, I sat down.
As I inhaled the subtle aroma in the steam, she asked, “So how does this work?”
Not wanting to delay, I dove right in with the details. “It requires a leap of faith on your part.”
“There you go with the fortune cookie language again. Just give it to me straight.”
“You got it. I knew beating around the bush wasn't your style.”
“Never has been.”
“That portrait you saw of Milton was taken at his ranch in New Mexico. The year was 1975.”
Her face screwed up. “You’re hooking me up with a senior citizen?” Uncertainty marred her pretty features.
“No.” I dunked my teabag a few times then set it on a small dish. When I raised my head, she looked directly into my eyes waiting for answers.
“As I said, it requires a leap of faith. In that portrait, Milton is thirty-eight years old. Only about five years older than yourself, I’m guessing?”
“You’re good.”
“Years of practice, dear.” I ran my finger around the rim of the cup. “So…you’ll be going back to the year 1975. How do you feel about that?”
She sipped her tea, then set the mug down a little harder than expected. It clunked as it hit the wooden table. She searched my face as if looking for a clue as to where I was going with this.
“You haven’t run out of the house screaming, so I guess you’re willing to hear more.”
She inclined her head in a gesture to continue.
“I’m a Photographer. Not in the typical sense of a person who takes pictures. I’m involved in a process that allows me to match women with potential Suitors so that they can make a life together. Rarely do I meet those Suitors as I work with a Collector who interviews the men.”
“This Collector, you have confidence in his judgment?” Again, that trusting intuition kicked in with her. Most women, at this point, started firing off questions trying to poke holes in my explanation.
“Implicitly.”
“The Collector met with Milton in 1975?”
“Yes, he went back to that year.”
“Went back?”
I nodded. “As will you.” There, it was out.
Dede took another drink, this time setting the mug down gently.
“All of the women in those portraits in my studio were women I’ve met over the last thirty years. The Suitors they ended up with were born many years before them. They all began their lives together in the decade the men were from. One went as far back as the 1920’s, but most traveled only three or four decades. As you will, to meet Milton.”
“And how, exactly…”
“I’ll take your picture with my sepia camera. When the flash goes off, you’ll be transported through time to New Mexico. The year will be 1975. Milton will be there to greet you.”
“How long has he been waiting for me?” Raising her eyebrows, she added, “If you’re pulling my leg, at least this makes for an interesting story. Right?”
I nodded. “At the very least. To answer your question, he’s been waiting all his life, just as you have. Though technically, it’s only been a week since the Collector interviewed him in his time.”
“Strangely, this is making sense in a science fiction sort of way. What happens if I don’t like him? How will I get back? Or is it all or nothing?”
“You go for twenty-four hours the first time.”
“I’ll be making more than one trip? Is that how he courts me?” she laughed. “Every time we have a date I’ll time travel?”
“Not exactly. You can only go back twice. The second time is permanent.” I remained silent a few minutes, allowing her time to digest my last statement.
“If I take the second trip, I won’t be coming back to the present?”
“Correct. I liken it to getting a tattoo—it’s permanent.”
A smile spread across Dede’s face again. “So…once I get there, do I get older?”
“Of course! You’ll continue to age from that point and live out a natural life-time—just starting from the time you arrive. Once you return to the present after your visit, you’ll have a week to wrap up your exit from this time period. For me to continue my work, it’s best for you not to leave anything suspicious for people to question. Most women quit their job and release their living space, claiming a sick relative or such. Am I correct in guessing you haven’t any close relatives and very few friends?”
Her forehead wrinkled, and she frowned. “Sami, how did you know about all that? It’s true. All of it. But how could you know?”
“Well, this is where a bit more mysticism comes in. All the men, which we call Suitors, come to us pre-chosen. We only interview, never select. The same with you, or a Betrothed, as we like to call you. The women who cross my path have all been…well…mostly alone. And lonely.”
Dede’s eyes watered as she raised the cup, then put it down. Picking up the mug again, she took a sip. Gazing at me over the edge of it, she said, “That’s how you knew I’d take the bait and show up today. Isn’t it?”
“Yes. But it’s not a bad thing. How do you know this isn’t the way your life is supposed to be? Not everyone is a good fit for the time they currently live in. How do you know you aren’t better suited for the past? It opens your road to happiness. Love and family, isn’t that what you said you wanted?”
“It is.”
“Both you and Milton are artists. You already share a common love for creating things, just with different mediums. He paints. You sculpt.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes. “Explain to me again how this works. Is it painful when I travel back? Who will Milton tell people I am? Do I keep my name?” Her hands shook, and she had to hold onto her cup with both hands.
Her reaction was normal. Usually I explained the process before Betrotheds showed up for the first journey. It hadn’t seemed necessary yesterday, but maybe I had misjudged. What had I been thinking? Easy for me. I work with this all the time. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I responded, “No, it isn’t painful at all.”
“Have you ever traveled back?” Anxiety etched itself in the lines of her face. She had doubts. Not about meeting the Suitor, it seemed, but about the process to get there.
“Yes, a couple of times. It’s quite smooth traveling.” I tried to keep my voice steady and light—so she could hear the confidence in it. Maybe it would help calm her nervousness. “For this first trip, you won’t need anything in the way of identification. In fact, you need to leave everything here, so you don’t take things back that don’t belong in that era. Like your driver’s license and credit cards.”
This last
thought seemed to spook her more as she got up from the table and went to the kitchen window. Knowing she would be virtually stranded for twenty-four hours, this wasn’t an easy choice.
Turning around, she asked, “Won’t I need those things when I get there? What if Milton isn’t there like he’s supposed to be?”
“Not to worry,” I assured her, “he’ll be there. Our Suitors have never missed a date.” I cleared the table and placed the dishes in the sink. “If you choose to go back a final time, that week will also give my Collector the opportunity to create the proper identification for that period. Luckily, computer systems weren’t as advanced in the 1970’s as they are now.”
“I see,” was all she said with a wrinkled forehead trying to puzzle this out. Dede started to slowly pace back and forth.
“We stick as close to your current history as possible. That way it will be easier for you to remember. You’ll just need to be careful about dates and timelines when interacting with other people besides Milton. This enables him to give a plausible background for you also.”
Coming to a standstill, she looked over at me with a confident grin. She’d made her decision. “Okay, Sami. Let’s do this!”
Dede followed me to the studio and I gestured for her to enter first. At the doorway, she hesitated and took a couple of deep breaths, then entered the room. From the door frame, I watched her stroll past the portraits on the wall, studying each one. I knew she was viewing them in a new light.
“Is this a new Suitor waiting for a bride?” Dede asked, pointing at one. “I don’t remember seeing that one yesterday.”