The Show (Northwest Passage Book 3)

by John A. Heldt

  "Are you feeling OK?" Joel asked his wife. They sat on a loveseat facing the fireplace. "You haven't said much since we left home."

  "I'm fine. I've just been thinking a lot."

  "Thinking about what?"

  "I've been thinking about us, this baby, and perceptions people may have."

  Grace settled into the sofa and placed a hand on her belly. At thirty-two weeks, she was more than just visibly pregnant. She was walking up labor's driveway.

  "Haven't we gone over this? You don't owe me any more explanations."

  Joel put his arm around her and pulled her close.

  "I believe you, Grace. I see the truth in your eyes, just as I see the love in your eyes. That's good enough for me. That's always been good enough for me."

  Grace smiled sadly at a husband she adored and snuggled closer.

  "I hope so. I don't want doubt to ever come between us."

  She looked at the flames in the fireplace and thought of Christmas Eve 1918, the night she thought she'd never return to the comfort of her husband and children and a modern age she had begun to call her own. She thought too about the people she had left behind, particularly the Green family and John Walker, and how they had managed in the years following her departure.

  Grace knew many things. She knew from available sources that Alistair had allowed the Palladium to burn on March 3, 1919, and saved his own house from similar destruction on December 1, 1926. No chimney fire had killed Alistair and Margaret Green in the middle of the night because Alistair had taken Grace's advice and had his chimney swept weeks earlier.

  In the world that Grace had set into motion before she had left, Alistair and Margaret had attended Penelope's high school graduation in 1929, her college graduation in 1933, and her wedding in 1934. They had also, on Grace's advice, liquidated their stock holdings in 1929 and purchased nearby farmland – land that eventually became valuable as commercial and residential real estate. They had lived happy, productive lives until their deaths in the 1960s.

  John Walker had also moved on with his life. He had married Ruth Ballard, Emily's best friend, in a large country club wedding in 1920. According to his obituary in 1972, John had reenlisted in the Army and served honorably in World War II, rising to the rank of colonel. He and Ruth had raised four children in Snohomish County.

  Grace had been able to confirm all of what she had learned independently by visiting a 91-year-old woman in the university district. The woman had had no recollection of giving Grace a home in 2000 or attending her wedding, but she had remembered a pretty blonde who had stayed with her family in 1918 and 1919: a woman who had claimed to be a time traveler, a woman who had given her an expensive brooch at Christmas. Penelope Green Price had needed only a little prodding to recognize the woman who had come to her door.

  Grace was about to put thoughts of the past to bed when two visual reminders of the past approached the loveseat with two visual reminders of the future. Bill and Lucy entered the living room carrying a pair of crumb crunchers who were now in their sixteenth month.

  "I want two just like these," Lucy said as she held Ginny with one arm and reached to touch Katie with another. Bill held Katie a few feet away. "I'm serious. They are the most beautiful children I have ever seen and have the delightfully agreeable Green temperament."

  "Give yourself time, Lucy. I'm sure you'll manage to produce them."

  Grace smiled as she watched her teenage mother's face light up. She had no doubt that Bill and Lucy, who had planned a small Christmas Day wedding, would produce several delightfully agreeable children and do so sooner rather than later. Parenting was what they did best.

  Grace also had high hopes for Adam Levy and Rachel Jakubowski, who chatted with Joel's sister Abby, brother Patrick, and their families at a nearby table loaded with food. Adam, 24, was on a fast track to take over his father's jewelry store, just a mile down the road, and start a new life with a woman he had dated for more than four years.

  He had often teased Joel about his rapid transition from playboy to doting dad but seemed on a rapid transition of his own. Adam and Rachel planned a wedding in June.

  Adam and Rachel, of course, had had many questions about Grace's pregnancy. So had Abby, Patrick, and a few other friends and relatives. They had all asked why she and Joel had not told them earlier about a condition five months in the making.

  Grace had had a ready answer. She had explained that her difficult pregnancy with Ginny and Katie had made her skittish about telling anyone until she was reasonably certain she would make it to term. All had accepted the explanation without additional questions. All had no reason to believe anything else. Because they had spent July, August, and September away from Seattle, none had seen Grace Smith's rapid rise to third-time motherhood.

  Grace returned to Joel and the fireplace as Bill and Lucy hauled their grandchildren out of the living room. She was happy that so many of the people she loved had been able to come to the Christmas party to help her celebrate not only the season but also many important changes in her life. She dropped her head to Joel's shoulder and began to drift off when her bliss was again interrupted by a familiar voice.

  "You two look rather cozy."

  Grace lifted her head, turned toward the source of the voice, and smiled. The source stood next to a young man who looked like a lineman on the university's football team.

  "Hi, Edith. I see you've found a friend."

  "I have indeed. Grace and Joel, I'd like you to meet Vince Pearson. Vincent is a fellow sociology major who happens to be a defensive end on the varsity football team. Vince, this is Grace Smith and her husband Joel."

  Grace and Joel each shook the newcomer's hand – Grace from a sitting position, Joel from a standing position – before returning to their original places on the sofa.

  "Getting ready for the game?" Joel asked.

  "Not today. The coaches gave us the next four days off, so I won't be doing much until after Christmas. But come Thursday, it's back to the grind. We leave for Texas on Saturday."

  "It should be a good matchup. I usually attend all the bowl games, but I won't this year. Something came up," Joel said as he smiled and threw his arm around Grace.

  "I can see that," Vince said with a laugh.

  When Joel invited Vince to sit in a nearby folding chair and carry on a conversation about pass rushes and zone defenses, Grace turned toward Edith. She grabbed her hand and guided her to a chair near her side of the sofa.

  "I'm just dying to know how you went from intellectuals and rabble rousers to down linemen in a matter of weeks," Grace said. She glanced at the men and lowered her voice. "Vince doesn't seem like your type."

  "Oh, but he is," Edith said with a playful grin. "Vincent is more than a football player. He is a scholar, a member of the debate team, and a columnist on the student newspaper. He is also very driven. He plans to attend law school next year in California."

  "Really?"

  "Really."

  Edith leaned over and whispered in Grace's ear.

  "And I may go with him!"

  Grace looked at her red-faced aunt and laughed heartily. She was now convinced that Edith Green could adapt to any situation under the sun. She wasn't sure what awaited this free spirit, but she knew that whatever she did she would land on her feet.

  Edith's sudden entry into 2002 had been one of the year's most pleasant surprises. When Grace had revealed the secrets of the time portal to Uncle Alistair, she had not believed for a minute that he would share them with others. But he had.

  When Alistair had seen Edith's reaction to Grace's departure and Lucy's disappearance, he told Edith about the portal. When Edith had pleaded to be reunited with her sister, he drove her to the theater. Wearing a purple sash, Edith had entered the ladies' room at the Palladium just as Stella Maris ended. Once in the future, she had taken a cab to a Wenatchee Avenue address that Grace had mentioned in her letter. The sisters had reunited that night.

  After five more min
utes of football talk on one end of the loveseat and girl talk on the other, Edith got out of her chair and walked over to Vince. She grabbed his hand and pulled a man two and a half times her size out of his chair.

  "I think it's time for us to attend the ballet, Vincent, and leave this blissfully wedded couple alone," Edith said. She gave Joel a wry smile. "We have tickets to The Nutcracker."

  Joel got up off the couch and shook Vince's hand.

  "It was nice meeting you, Vince. Let's get together sometime before the NFL draft."

  Vince laughed.

  "Let's do," he said. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Grace."

  Edith beamed at Grace as she led her 275-pound boyfriend by the hand to the food table. She said a few goodbyes to friends and relatives and then disappeared with the future lawyer.

  "Well, that was interesting," Joel said to Grace as he returned to the sofa. "I never figured Edith as one to hang around a locker room."

  "I think her interest in Mr. Pearson goes well beyond his ability to tackle opposing players," Grace said. "I, for one, am happy for her."

  "I am too. I'm glad to see all these people from your past make a successful adjustment to 2002. Everybody has to move on at some point."

  Grace smiled warmly at her husband when she heard the words.

  "What? What have I done now?" he asked.

  "You've done nothing but remind me of something that I've wanted to do, something I should have done a long time ago."

  "You have my attention."

  Grace leaned over the side of couch, grabbed her purse, and placed it on her lap. She opened the bag, reached inside, and retrieved a red envelope that looked like an artifact from the Smithsonian. She handed the envelope to Joel.

  Joel opened the envelope and pulled out a Christmas card, which featured a line drawing of a snow-covered cabin on its cover. The card could have come straight from the presses of Currier and Ives, but it came from a source much closer to home. Edith Green, then 41-year-old Edith Green Tomlinson, had created the card in 1941.

  Grace put her hands on Joel's knee as she watched him examine the illustration with shaking hands. She watched even more intently as he briefly looked away and wiped a tear.

  He took a deep breath and opened the card, which featured a stick-figure skier on each of the panels. The one on the left wore a dress, the other a wide-brimmed hat. Both skied toward the center of the card and a message Grace had written on December 5, 1941:

  "My darling cowboy, I'm glad we're finally sliding in the same direction. Merry Christmas! Love, Grace."

  Grace had told him that night that she had saved enough money to take him skiing at Mount Hood, Oregon. It was a Christmas present that she had never been able to deliver. Joel Smith had left her life later that night – suddenly, stunningly, and apparently forever.

  "You went back for the card?" Joel asked.

  "I went back for clues. I tried to find something, anything, to help me find the right mine, to help me find you. I didn't find that something, but I found something better. I found a reason to keep searching."

  Grace stopped to look at his face. She saw that her words had registered.

  "I should have given you this card and taken you skiing two years ago, before we started our family, but I didn't. I took life with you for granted. I figured there would always be days when we could ski and walk and do all the fun and beautiful things we had talked about."

  Grace paused again.

  "Even when I'd decided to move on and start a new life, I never forgot about the promises we'd made or the future we'd planned. I never stopped thinking about you. You were always in my heart. I will always love you."

  Joel sighed, smiled, and shook his head, as if refusing to believe that this woman was real. He gazed at Grace with moist eyes, pulled her close, and kissed her tenderly.

  "Thank you," Joel said in a barely audible voice. "I'll never let this go."

  Grace pulled away and sat up. She put a hand to Joel's face and smiled softly.

  "I know you won't. But the card's not just for you. It's for us. It's a reminder that we must always live for today," Grace said. "We've both had enough excitement for a lifetime. It's time for our happy ever after."

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A novel, like most worthwhile pursuits, is not a solitary venture. It is a collaborative project that requires not only the input of an author but also the time, talent, and patience of those who don't write a word. Many thanks go to Amy Heldt, Cheryl Heldt, and Christine Stinson for reading the early drafts; Mary Heldt, Jon Johnson, and Diana Zimmerman for reading the later drafts; and editor Aaron Yost for pulling all of the loose ends together. Your efforts will always be appreciated. I am also grateful to Laura Wright LaRoche for producing the stunning cover and to several others for providing research assistance, including Hawaii businessman Jim Didion and staff from the Bothell Historical Museum, Bristol (England) Central Library, King County Library System, Museum of History and Industry, and Seattle Public Library.