Meant To Be

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Meant To Be Page 20

by Ruth Ann Nordin


  He didn’t want to think about it. He’d had enough regrets to last a lifetime. He’d chosen a gold digger to share his life with. His ex-wife saw his salary and figured she could have his wallet and his brother. He’d been so naïve to believe that she loved him. The signs were there. Looking back, he recognized them. The separate bank account, the weekend to “spas” so she could relax, the child who looked too much like his brother…Even after learning that Ian wasn’t his son and divorcing her, she continually wanted more money. The woman was never satisfied. She wronged him and the judge took her side.

  He didn’t want to think about it. The past was behind him, or in front of him, depending on how one wanted to look at it. He’d press on. Move forward. As long as he got that chip, he could insert it into the device and go to any time he wanted. Determination settled back into his bones and he urged the horse to a trot, keeping a safe distance from the group of six people in front of him.

  ***

  Megan had a hard time concentrating on anything Miriam was telling her during the potluck supper. Ted sat next to her, and all she could think about was how close they were. He’d made love to her, and her skin still tingled in the places he’d touched her with his hands.

  Hands that were now ripping the fried chicken apart. She cringed. The man was an animal. He practically wolfed down his meal. She couldn’t believe this was the same person who gave her such a wonderful experience just an hour and a half ago.

  Miriam tapped her on the arm.

  Startled, she turned back to her friend. “What did you say?”

  Miriam smiled. “You’re preoccupied tonight.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  Esther glanced at her from across the table and arched her eyebrow.

  Megan shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Esther might be a church going woman who stuck adherently to propriety when she wasn’t on fire, but the woman figured out much more than she let on. If Megan guessed right, Esther knew that Megan and Ted had finally consummated their marriage.

  “Anyway, we’re trying to help Claire come up with a name for her next child,” Miriam said, dipping her spoon into the pudding.

  Megan’s gaze drifted to Ray’s wife who laughed at something Ray whispered to her. Megan knew the perfect name for a boy. “Paul.”

  Ted cleared his throat and looked at her. “Paul?”

  “It was my father’s name.”

  He set the drumstick down and frowned. “That name is familiar.”

  “I wouldn’t know why. We don’t know anyone with that name in this place.” She turned back to Miriam. “I miss my father. He died shortly before I turned eighteen.”

  Miriam smiled. “It sounds like you had a close relationship with him.”

  Beside her, Ted shrugged and picked up a biscuit and started chewing on it.

  Megan shook her head, wondering where he put all the food. He wasn’t even chubby. How could he eat like that and stay fit? Sighing, she directed her attention to Miriam. “My father and I enjoyed the same things. In some ways, I was a tomboy. I grew up fishing, playing ball, and watching him at the race track.”

  “He raced horses?”

  Megan paused. She meant car races, but she realized she couldn’t say that. So she opted to let Miriam think of horses. “When I became a teenager, I began to like girly things, and even though we didn’t do as much as we used to, he was still my best friend.” She laughed. “I still remember how he scared my boyfriends. He made sure they didn’t try to do anything they shouldn’t. He had the roar of a lion but the heart of a teddy bear.”

  “A what?”

  “A teddy bear.”

  Miriam frowned and shook her head.

  Didn’t they have teddy bears in this time? “He had a soft heart,” Megan finally explained.

  Still looking uncertain, Miriam nodded. “You must miss him.”

  Her smiled faltered. “Every day.”

  Miriam placed her hand on her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe you should name your child after him. You know, if you have a boy.”

  Esther set her cup down. “You could name the child Paula if you have a girl.”

  A child? That was when Megan remembered why it was a bad idea for her and Ted to have sex. Oh crap! She grabbed Ted’s arm, inadvertently digging her nails into his skin.

  He dropped his biscuit and yelled out in pain.

  “Ted? Can I speak to you?” she asked him, still clutching his arm.

  “Will you let go of me?”

  She immediately took her hand away, noting the blood that her fingernails made. “I’m sorry.” She splashed water on her napkin and pressed it over the wound.

  Esther raised her eyebrows. “Megan, are you feeling well?”

  Megan glanced around the table and noticed that several people looked in her direction. “I’m fine,” she said over the wild thumping of her heart. “Go on and enjoy your meal. We’ll be back.” She stood up and clutched Ted’s elbow. “Come on.”

  He wiped his mouth and hands with a napkin and obediently followed her out of the barn where they could be alone.

  She took a deep breath so she wouldn’t vomit.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, keeping his voice low enough so no one would hear them. “You act like you saw a ghost in there.”

  “Oh Ted, we’re in trouble.” She swallowed hard, forcing the bile back down her throat. This wasn’t good. She was going to throw up if she didn’t watch it.

  He took her by the arms, his touch firm but gentle. “What is it?” He stared at her, and she picked up the panic in his eyes.

  She glanced around. Good. No one could hear them. “What if I’m pregnant?”

  He just stood there and stared at her for a good couple of seconds before he relaxed. “I thought something serious happened.” He let go of her and released his breath. “Don’t scare me like that ever again.”

  “This is serious, Ted. We might have just changed the course of human history.”

  He groaned. “Please tell me you’re not in this funk again.”

  “What funk?”

  “The whole ‘oh no the world’s coming to an end because I interfered with the past’ funk.”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I don’t see how you can take this so lightly. I’m sick over this and you’re acting as if I’m worried over nothing.”

  “How many times do we have to have this conversation?” He gave her a pointed look. “You already know what I think about it.”

  There was only one thing to do. She hated to do it too. She found that she enjoyed it and hated to give it up, but she had to stop this before it went any further. “We can’t have sex again.”

  His eyes grew wide and he gasped. “What?”

  “We can’t risk it, Ted. It’s just not right.”

  “No. I’m willing to put up with all your other quirks, but there is no way I’m doing that. Besides, if you are pregnant, then it’s too late to do anything about it.”

  “I know,” she cried, ready to pull her hair out. The least she could have done was insist that he pull out. “Sex is awful. It makes you forget everything.”

  She pressed her hand to her abdomen. Did she just feel a flutter? She clutched her stomach. Maybe she already had morning sickness. She really did feel like she was going to vomit. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. She groaned and put her face in her hands.

  “This is getting annoying,” he said, obviously exasperated.

  “Will you still be saying that in May or June when I have a child?”

  “May. May 1899.” He snapped his fingers. “I know where I’ve seen the name Paul!”

  As he ran off to their wagon, she ran to the bushes and threw up. After she finished emptying the contents of her stomach, he returned to her.

  He cringed when he saw her and the bushes. “Wow. That Claire Gordon needs to watch how much seasoning she puts in her sauce,” he joked.

  She shot him a dirty look. “Must you b
e insensitive?”

  “I have good news for you. You haven’t done anything to destroy the future. Come here.”

  Her body trembled but she managed to make her way to his side without stumbling. “What is it?”

  He coughed and motioned for her to back up. “Your breath stinks.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “Well, you did this to me.”

  “Fair enough. Still, could you breathe in that direction?”

  She sighed and faced the barn door.

  “Okay. Let me find it.” He pulled a yellow brochure from his jacket pocket. Something silver fell out of the folded paper. He bent down and picked it up.

  “What’s that?” she asked, examining the strange round object that didn’t look bigger than a pinky nail.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.” He shrugged and slipped it into the pocket of his pants. “Oh well.” He opened the brochure. “Ah ha! There it is! Paul Jacob, born May 4, 1899. Isn’t this great?”

  “What is that?” She snatched the brochure out of his hands and studied the cover of the smiling man who wore a business suit. “Christian Jacob’s Biography?”

  “Yeah. Christian is the president of Jacob Innovative Creations. That’s where I worked.” He paused. “Well, what do you know? I am related to him after all.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about. She opened it up. “So, this goes back to Paul Jacob?”

  “Paul. Paul is your father’s name. We’re going to have a son and name him Paul. Don’t you see what this means?”

  She ignored his enthusiasm. “There are other Pauls out there.”

  “Ones named Paul Jacob who just so happened to be born on May 4, 1899 in Fargo, North Dakota?”

  A twinge of excitement fluttered through her. “I admit that it’s a surprising coincidence.”

  “It’s not a coincidence and you know it. What other Jacobs live in Fargo?”

  Her mind raced through everyone she’d heard of who lived in Fargo. “None.”

  “Except for us. And I wouldn’t have picked the name Paul. That’s your doing.”

  She struggled to grasp the meaning of his words. “So, you think that we’re Paul’s parents?”

  “Isn’t it obvious that we are?”

  A small smile formed on her lips as she got used to the idea. “And we are supposed to be here? In this time?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We’re not here by mistake. Everything we’ve done and will do is going keep the future as it’s supposed to be.”

  She read the brochure, partly in shock and partly in excitement. Was she really reading about her descendants? “It says that Paul had two brothers, but he’s the one who went on to begin a small inventing business, inspired by his parents who told him about the possibility of time travel.” She looked at Ted. “Why did you tell him about time travel?”

  “Why do you assume it was me who spilled the beans? Maybe it was you.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m much too responsible to do that.”

  “The brochure says ‘parents’. That’s plural. That means you did it too.”

  “Probably because I had to cover for you.”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “Does it really matter? Everything turned out okay. Christian was still born and he inherited the family corporation, and I got hired so I could end up back in time with you. So it all happened as it was supposed to. Who knows? If Paul wasn’t told anything about time travel, he might not have started inventing things.” He took the brochure from her and scanned it. “It says that he created the parts that eventually got put into televisions, washers, driers, and microwaves.”

  She nodded. “Good for him. I miss having a washer and dryer.”

  “That must’ve been your influence then.”

  “And I suppose you’re responsible for the television and microwave?”

  He looked very pleased with the thought. “Probably. Yeah.”

  She shook her head but laughed. “What a relief.”

  “And look here.” He pointed to the first paragraph. “It says that we’re going to have two kids after Paul’s born.”

  “Boys,” she noted, grinning. “Oh Ted, I’m going to be a mother!” She hugged him tightly to her, giggling as he spun her around. When he set her back on her feet, she said, “I was worried, you know.”

  “Worried about what? Me?”

  “No. When I was in prison and I turned thirty-five, I thought I’d never have children.” She choked up, and even though she tried to hold back her tears, she couldn’t. When he took her in his arms, she cried harder. “I was willing to marry anyone to have children. I didn’t love Mike. I was just afraid that if I didn’t marry him, then I’d never find someone. And then you came along and…” She clung to him, unable to finish her sentence.

  “I love you too, Meg,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

  She stayed in his embrace, enjoying the security and warmth of his arms. Her mother would be appalled that she was with Ted. Her mother always hoped she’d marry someone who was on his way to being rich, but in being with Ted, Megan had learned that the value of a man didn’t come from how much he made but in how well he loved her. Besides her father, no man had actually cared for her the way Ted did. Who else would put up with her ‘quirky’ behaviors?

  After a good minute passed, she pulled back and tucked the brochure into her pocket. “We need to keep this in a safe place. It wouldn’t be right for anyone to find it.”

  “If you really want to play it safe, you’d burn it.”

  He was right. She knew he was right. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She liked knowing how her children and their children would fare.

  “Are you ready to go back inside and finish the meal?” he asked, brushing the remaining tears from her face.

  “Yes. But I have to clean out my mouth first. I feel gross.”

  “I can imagine.”

  After she cleaned her teeth, they finished their meal.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Once the meal was over, the men scurried from the tables, and once again, the women began to clean up. From the wall nearby, Charles and his cronies smirked in her direction.

  Narrowing her eyes, she stormed up to them. “Do you have a problem?”

  “No, but it seems that you do. I can see that you don’t like having to do the work.”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. “So, you make it a point to watch me?”

  He shrugged. “You stand out like a sore thumb.”

  “I notice that you took the time to bathe. It’s too bad you didn’t wash out your personality while you were at it.”

  “You talk big for a woman who can’t control her husband. Even he won’t pitch in to help with the dishes.”

  Oh, the man was an irritable buffoon! She clenched her fists. She’d had it with his snide comments and mocking glances whenever she went to these barn dances. If she was going to stay in this time, she couldn’t allow this to continue. Just as she was ready to yell at him and really let him have it, another idea came to her. Why not prove that she could get the men to help? Nagging at them hadn’t worked. But then, her dad used to say you could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. She decided it was time to take her dad’s advice.

  “Just wait and see,” she told him.

  He sneered and chewed on a piece of hay. “This ought to be interesting.”

  “Oh, it will be.” She turned and marched to Esther and Miriam who were gathering dirty plates. “Do you really want to do all this work while the men sit back and do nothing?”

  Esther straightened and furrowed her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re not going to leave early again, are you?” Miriam asked. “I wanted us to do a square dance together.”

  “No, I’m staying. But I’m not going to let this injustice continue. The men claim they work all day and are tired. Well, don’t we work just as hard? Sure, we’re not out in the fi
elds, but we clean their clothes and their home and cook for them.” She paused. “Well, most of us do.”

  “What’s your point?” Esther wondered, setting the plate back down on the table as a couple of other women directed their attention to her.

  Megan had to strike while the iron was hot. She glanced at Charles and his group who seemed amused. Then she studied the women. “Is it fair that you spend all this time cooking and setting up this potluck just to have the men gulp all the food down and then retreat to their corners while you do all the work? Then they expect you to have the energy to dance?”

  Claire leaned forward. “And once we get home, we have to take care of all the kids and put them to bed while they sit and read the paper.”

  “Or we have to rub their backs because they’re sore from dancing,” Esther chimed in.

  Claire rubbed her pregnant belly. “We work all day too, and you know, my feet are sore. I want to sit down for awhile and relax before we dance.”

  Megan nodded. “It’s time things changed. It’s time the men pitched in to help.”

  “What should we do?”

  Megan searched for Ted and found him sitting on a barrel and laughing with Richie and Ray. “Just follow my lead.” He wasn’t too far from her, so she figured the women would be able to hear her. She strode over to him and cleared her throat. “Ted?”

  The three men looked at her.

  “Is something wrong?” Ted asked.

  “I thought I saw a rip in your shirt.” She leaned over and pulled on the cotton fabric, pretending to search for a tear. “Hmm…I must have been wrong. I guess there’s nothing to sew after all.” Then she let her hand brush his bicep. She stopped and squeezed his arm. “Wow, Ted. Is it my imagination or are you stronger than you were when we first met?”

 

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