“Time’s the only thing you can never get enough of,” he’d told young Carter. “So it’s best to use it wisely.”
It was a lesson Carter was still learning.
With a little googling, Carter managed to track down the antique dealer he was looking for. Of course, the man had no idea who Carter was, but when Carter described the items in his possession—and subsequently e-mailed pictures of all of them—the dealer had been very interested.
The next day, with the paper put to bed, Carter worked with Sandi to assign the day’s stories, then took off for the three-hour trip to Seattle. He spent the time in the car thinking about what he’d learned about Kenzie so far.
She’d become a teacher, but the writing seminar proved that she hadn’t given up on her dream of writing. It had been put on the back burner for a while—a long while, apparently. From what Noah had told him, and what he’d gleaned from Kenzie herself, Carter hadn’t done much to encourage her to pursue that dream.
Carter planned to change that. He knew first-hand the extent of Kenzie’s talent and he understood that she had what it took to be an amazing author. She just had to believe it herself, know that he believed it, and have the opportunity to go after it.
It was obvious his alter ego had dwelled on the missed opportunities that came with giving up the internship in New York. Carter, however, knew that what he’d given up was nothing compared to what he’d gained in this alternate reality.
If hindsight was 20/20, what Carter had was even clearer—maybe super-magnification or x-ray vision.
Sure, his career had been rewarding, to a certain extent, but tracking war and famine had already begun to drain him . . . harden him. And even a cushy network news spot didn’t compare to his newfound family.
He’d choose Kenzie in a second.
He just had to convince her of that, undo a decade of resentment and regret, and show her that he really did appreciate and love the life that he had now.
Which led to what was the biggest challenge for him—remembering that he and Kenzie were partners. Carter had lived on his own for so long it was difficult for him to remember that he and Kenzie needed to make decisions together. It chafed a little, if he were to be completely honest. To have to run things by someone else smacked a little of asking permission.
But he knew from watching his own parents that it was essential for any marriage to work. It was something he needed to get used to. And he knew he would do it. He’d do whatever it took.
As the Seattle skyline appeared on the horizon, Carter felt a wave of hope rush through him. He may not have known all the details of what led Kenzie and the other Carter to this point, but it didn’t matter.
It was about moving forward now. And Carter had a plan.
He met with the antique dealer, and after some fierce negotiations, said goodbye to his grandfather’s cufflinks and hello to enough cash to pay off the credit cards, plus a little extra. Carter drove home with a smile on his face and a nice check in his pocket.
He’d been able to keep the pocket watch, although he would have parted with it in a second if he needed to. He was quickly learning that he’d do about anything if he needed to—anything that could help fix things with Kenzie and get him back with his family.
What were a set of cufflinks compared to that?
Carter didn’t get back to Woodlawn until after dark and knew he’d have to wait until the next day to see Kenzie. He’d shared a late dinner with Noah and Lydia and slept comfortably for the first time since he’d gotten to Woodlawn, even though he was still on a couch.
The next morning, he wiped sweaty palms on his jeans as he stood in his driveway, psyching himself to knock on the front door.
“Got a minute?” he asked Kenzie when she pulled it open, eyeing him hesitantly. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
Kenzie nodded and stepped back from the door. “Would you like something to drink?”
It was something you’d ask a guest. Carter didn’t like feeling like a guest. He wanted this to be his home.
“No, thank you,” he said politely, hiding his reaction to Kenzie’s offer. “Maybe we could sit down?”
He followed her into the living room and sat on the sofa, trying not to frown when she settled on a chair across from him, rather than next to him.
“Where are the kids?” he asked.
“Your mom took them to the indoor play park,” she replied. “You know how she loves to spoil them.”
They exchanged small smiles and the air thickened with tension.
“So,” Carter began, breaking the silence. “I know that we’re supposed to make financial decisions together, but I did feel like I needed to deal with the credit card situation, since I’m the one that caused it.”
Kenzie blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting him to say that. Carter handed her a sheet of paper with a smile.
Kenzie looked down at the statement from the bank. “I . . . I don’t understand. It’s paid off?”
Carter nodded, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “They all are. Except for the house and the minivan we are now debt free. And there’s enough for that writing class, too.”
“But . . . but how?”
Carter shrugged. “I sold my grandfather’s cufflinks.”
Kenzie gasped. “Carter, you didn’t! You love those!”
Carter tilted his head, smiling softly. “I love you more.”
“But . . .” Her face flushed as she looked down at the credit card statement again. “Oh, Carter . . . we could have found another way.”
“There wasn’t another way, Kenzie. You know that.”
“I just hate that you had to do it.”
“I don’t.” At her surprised look, Carter added, “They’re just things, Kenzie. I don’t need things. I need you. I need us.” He smiled at the recognition in her eyes when she realized he was using her words. He crossed over to her and dropped to his knees, taking her hands in his. He rubbed his thumbs over her soft skin, gathering his words.
“I know things haven’t been right between us for a while,” he said earnestly. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t completely understand where we went wrong.”
Kenzie started to speak, but Carter held up a hand to silence her. “Please, just let me say this?” She nodded and he continued. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, really. I don’t want to rehash the past. I want us to start fresh, right now. I want us to get to know each other again . . . to fall in love again. I’m just asking for a chance to build a new life with you, Kenzie. With you and the kids. It’s all that matters to me now.
“I know what it’s like to live without you,” he said, his voice catching when he saw tears begin to glisten in Kenzie’s eyes. “That’s not a life I want.”
Kenzie swallowed thickly. “Me neither.”
Carter felt a surge of hope. “Okay, then give us a chance,” he said in a rush. “I’m not talking about me coming home, not just yet. I’m talking about us spending time together. I’m asking for you to give us another chance. Give me another chance. Don’t give up on us just yet, Kenzie. Can you do that? Just . . . give us some time?”
She reached out to touch his hair, tears trickling down her cheeks. “Yes.”
A sunny smile split Carter’s face and he leaned forward to kiss her softly . . . chastely. “Okay, then,” he said, using his thumbs to brush the tears from her face. “I, uh, I should go, but maybe I could come by tomorrow? We could take the kids to the beach if the weather’s not too bad.”
Kenzie’s face lit up. “That would be really great.” She hesitated before asking, “Are you going out with the guys tomorrow night for New Year’s?”
“The guys?”
“Yeah? Your friends?”
“Why would I spend New Year’s Eve with them?”
Kenzie’s brow creased in confusion. “You always spend it with them.”
“I do?”
“Carter, are you okay?” Kenzie finally as
ked. “I mean, not that I’m complaining, but you’re acting kind of . . . weird.”
Carter missed the question, because something finally clicked. “Kenzie, was I with the guys on Christmas Eve?”
Kenzie’s face blanched. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about the past.”
“I was, wasn’t I,” he said half to himself. “How much time do I spend going out drinking with the guys?”
Kenzie shrugged. “You need the time away to relax,” she replied, obviously quoting an often-heard statement.
“I am such a jerk,” Carter muttered.
“Carter?” Kenzie was looking at him with concern in her eyes. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Good question,” he grumbled, his head sagging forward for a moment before he looked back up at her. “Look, Kenzie. I’m done with all of that. I don’t need time away to relax.” He used air quotes to accentuate his contempt for the phrase. “I’m here for you and the kids. All in. We’ll hang out tomorrow and if you want to go out for New Year’s Eve, I’ll take you.”
Kenzie frowned. “I’m not really feeling up to it, to be honest.”
Carter smirked. “Well, me neither, to be honest. So we’ll have a good day and an early night. How does that sound?”
Kenzie smiled. “It sounds perfect. Then, you’ll be here for football, right?”
Carter didn’t miss a beat. His family had always spent New Year’s Day in front of the TV watching bowl game after bowl game. It was something he’d come to miss since he’d left Woodlawn.
“Of course, what time?”
“Oh, whenever. I’ll be up early cooking,” Kenzie replied.
“I’ll come by to help.”
“Really?” She laughed. “You want to help cook?”
Carter grinned. “Well, maybe not cook, but I can chop and stir with the best of them.”
Kenzie stared at him for a moment, then she shook her head slowly. “I can’t put my finger on it,” she said. “But there’s something different about you, isn’t there?”
Carter stood, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah, there is.”
“What happened?”
Carter reached down to pull Kenzie to her feet, wrapping her in a gentle hug. “I’ve been given a another chance,” he said quietly into her hair, “and I’m going to make the most of it.”
Kannawack Beach was a local spot that the tourists eschewed, due to its lack of restaurants and tacky shops hawking flip flops, t-shirts, and cheap sunglasses. Like most of Washington’s beaches it was more rocky than sandy, with icy white-capped waves and piles of driftwood and drying bull-whip kelp scattered along the shoreline.
It was cold on the coast in December, and the kids were bundled up in hats and boots. Still, Kenzie had to remind them repeatedly to stay out of the water.
They couldn’t resist running up to the lapping waves, and then squealing as they darted back to avoid the rushing water . . . their rubber boots flapping against the sand.
Carter spread out a thick blanket, securing the corners with a cooler and a couple of folding chairs. Kenzie sat next to him as they watched the kids whirl around in circles, holding pieces of the long, whip-like kelp so it twisted around them when they suddenly stopped.
“This is nice,” Kenzie said as she wrapped her coat around her and snuggled into one of the chairs.
“It’s freezing!” Carter countered, blowing into his hands. “But, yeah. It’s nice.”
He smiled and Kenzie returned the gesture.
Brady ran up, face red and breath puffing, Peyton dragged behind him.
“Daddy, can we build a sand castle?” he asked.
Carter winced. “I’m afraid this sand isn’t great for castles,” he replied, letting the damp stuff run through his fingers. “It’s not sticky enough. But we could do something better.”
“What’s better than sand castles?” Peyton asked doubtfully.
Carter grinned. “Let me show you.” He rummaged through the duffle bag and pulled a packet from between the towels. It took a few folds and snaps, but before long, he held up the brightly colored plastic and string with a triumphant smile.
“A kite!” Peyton squealed, jumping up and down.
“Can I fly it?” Brady asked, the excitement catching.
“No, me!” Peyton shouted.
“Me!”
“You’ll both fly it,” Carter said, getting to his feet. “But you’re going to take turns.”
It was a perfect day for kite flying, a brisk wind steadily whipping along the beach. They ran back and forth, the kids shrieking with delight and the kite heading steadily up, before diving down in an air pocket. It was purple and shaped like a jellyfish, long streamers dangling down below it.
“Hold it tight,” he told Peyton as he transferred the spool of string into her hands.
“I’ve got it, Daddy.”
“Yeah, you do.”
He left them to it, with Brady hovering protectively over Peyton and the string, and collapsed onto the blanket next to Kenzie.
“I think the kite’s a hit,” she said, sipping hot tea from a thermos. She offered it to him and he took a drink. “Thanks for thinking of it.”
He shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. Should he be thanked for doing something that a dad’s supposed to do?
“Happy to,” he said quietly, handing her back the thermos.
They ate sandwiches and chips and built a little fire to roast marshmallows. By the time the sun went down, the kids were stuffed and sleepy-eyed. Kenzie carried Peyton back to the car while Carter carried Brady. He left her to latch the car seats while he returned for the cooler and chairs.
The car was quiet as they drove home, but now and then, he could feel Kenzie watching him. He glanced at her and she smiled.
“What is it?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Nothing, it’s just—” She looked out the window on a sigh.
“Just what?”
Kenzie turned back to him and leaned her head on the back of her seat. She smiled softly. “Today was great. Really great. I haven’t seen the kids so happy in a long time.”
He smiled. “They had a good time.”
“Yeah.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Did you have a good time?”
She bit her lip and reached across the center console to take his hand, interlacing their fingers. “Yeah, I did.”
They held hands the rest of the way home, and carried the sleeping kids up to bed. Carter paused on his way out the front door and ran a hand through his hair.
“Thanks,” he said. “For today. For giving me a chance.”
Kenzie smiled softly and nodded. “You’re welcome.” She took a step toward him and hesitated for just a second before popping up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.
“See you tomorrow?” she asked.
Carter touched his cheek and he felt it all the way to his toes. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
That kiss lingered on his skin as he drove back to Noah and Lydia’s. And by the time the ball dropped, he was already asleep on their couch, a smile on his face.
Carter was up with the sun on New Year’s Day. He was so excited about how well things had gone with Kenzie that he just couldn’t stay in bed.
Or . . . on the couch, as the case may be.
So, he was up early, quietly folding his blankets and making coffee for Noah and Lydia. His sister stumbled into the kitchen shortly after seven, her eyes bleary and her hands reaching desperately for the coffee pot. Carter chuckled lightly and poured her a cup. Lydia was never one to sleep in. Even when hungover, she rarely stayed in bed past eight.
“Noah still sleeping?” Carter asked, sipping at his coffee and pushing a bag of bagels toward Lydia. She frowned and pushed them back, turning to search for a bottle of aspirin in the cabinet.
“Yeah,” she said on a yawn, popping the aspirin dry and chasing it with a gulp of coffee. “You should have come with us last night. We had a blast. Macon and Vi w
ere there, and you remember that guy Tyler Deacon from high school?” At Carter’s nod she continued. “He was back in town visiting, and Macon caught him making out in the coat closet with one of the waiters.”
Carter laughed. “No way.”
“Way,” Lydia confirmed, sitting back down at the table. “I think the waiter got fired, but he went home with Tyler, so I guess it’s all good.”
“Sounds like a great time,” Carter said with a grin.
Lydia eyed him closely. “You really stayed in last night?”
Carter nodded. “Yeah, I was pretty beat after chasing the kids up and down Kannawack Beach all day.” At Lydia’s silent perusal, he asked, “What?”
She shook her head slightly. “Nothing . . . it’s just . . . you’re usually not one to turn down a party.”
Carter grimaced. “Yeah, so I gather.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lydia looked at him in confusion.
“Nothing. I’ve just decided to make some changes, that’s all.”
Lydia continued to stare at him, her eyes narrowing. Carter shifted uncomfortably, swirling the cooling coffee in his cup. His sister had always had a kind of sixth sense about people—an insight that was at times downright eerie. He felt like she was looking into his soul at that moment.
“What’s going on with you, Carter?” she asked.
Carter laughed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Lydia propped her chin on her fists, her gaze unwavering. “Try me.”
Carter’s smile fell as he considered Lydia’s words. What did he really have to lose?
“I’m not the Carter you know,” he said finally.
“What do you mean?”
Carter took a deep breath. “I mean, this . . .” He waved his hands to indicate his surroundings. “. . . all of this . . . this world. It’s not mine. I came from another world . . . another reality.”
“Come on, Carter,” she snorted.
“I’m serious.”
“Like you were serious when we were kids and you’d tell me I was adopted?” she asked. “Or when you convinced me to sleep outside because you could see the future and the house was going to catch fire? Or when—”
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