by Susan Finlay
He sighed. “Ryan and Lisa are twins, eighteen years old.” He paused and rubbed his aching temples. “They graduated from high school last month and both are getting ready to start college. Well, at least Lisa is. Who knows if Ryan will get a chance now? They’ve been living with their mother in San Francisco. I live, lived, in Santa Monica. I rarely got to see them.” His bitterness over the divorce and custody situation remained. She’d gotten their house, then sold it and moved away. He’d bought a bungalow on a cliff near the beach, but six months after he got laid-off from his job, he lost his house in a mudslide. He was still waiting for the insurance money. His luck seemed to be skewed in the wrong direction. And of course, he remained the bad guy. Right. More luck.
What bothered him the most, was his ex-wife Jenny. Even though she’d been unfaithful, she was the parent the kids chose to live with. He couldn’t blame them for wanting to be with their mother. They didn’t know the whole story, and he didn’t want to hurt them or destroy their relationship with their mother by telling them. As far as the kids knew, their parents just had irreconcilable differences.
Monika shook her head and said, “I am sorry, Max.” She hesitated and then asked, “What about your sister, Diana?”
“She married a guy named Edward McClure. I don’t think you ever met him. They have two daughters, Tammy, sixteen, and Jill, fourteen. Odd isn’t it? You have kids the same age or younger than your grandkids.”
Monika tensed and Max knew he’d hit a sore spot. “You think I’m a horrible mother, I know, but I love both of my families equally. I wouldn’t trade either in for the other and I won’t apologize for having a life here. Can you not understand that?”
Max sat in silence, pondering her words. He wasn’t exactly in a position to judge. She’d made a good point earlier. What if I get stranded here for twenty years and my daughter shows up one day and questions me?
He sighed again and turned to face her. “I’m sorry, Mom. You’re right. I could very well end up in the same position you’re in. I’ve disappeared the same way you and Gramps did twenty years ago. What if I can’t get back, either?” He hesitated, trying to choose his words. “I’ve been trying to insist that you should have stopped living, or lived in limbo all these years. That’s illogical and unfair.”
Monika reached over and squeezed his hand, her face warming. “Thank you, Max. You’ve grown into a mature and wise man.”
He smiled. It’s about time, he thought. I’ve been an idiot for far too long.
She wiped tears from her cheeks and Max reached out and hugged her. He felt his own eyes tear up.
When Monika finally let go, she looked at him and said, “Now Sofie and Tobias told me you spoke about marriage. Tell me. Hanna and Gunter will marry soon. Konrad and Ulla will marry after that. Perhaps we can have a double ceremony, with you and Sofie and one of the other couples.”
Max laughed. “Always the matchmaker, Mom. I remember that, too. I guess some things never change.”
She laughed, too, and she suddenly looked younger—more like the mother he remembered. “It really makes little difference which century I live in. I’ve adapted, yet remained the same. You will do the same, I am sure, Maxie.”
He was suddenly somber. “You make it sound like you think we are staying here. Do you really think there’s no hope of getting back home?”
Monika was quiet, then took a deep breath and said, “Of course it’s possible we may discover how the portal works, but . . . well, it was only by accident that Gramps and Grandma got home. I thought you realized that.”
Max shrugged. “Well, yeah, Gramps told me that, but sometimes he also lies. Sorry to say that, but . . . .”
“It’s all right. I know.”
“Did you know he told me he thought it was Lotte who killed Birgitta? But I suspect it was her granddaughter, Anneliese. What am I supposed to believe?”
“I couldn’t even guess.”
He shook his head.
“Well, we’ll talk to him,” she said, reaching over and patting his hand. “We need to get things clarified. I have some questions, too.”
“Wait a minute,” Max said. “A moment ago you said it was only by accident that Gramps and Grandma got home. What did you mean? Grandma wasn’t from here, was she?”
“What? I told everyone about them tonight . . . oh, Max, I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t understand German.” She touched his hand again and then repeated what she’d told the others, only in English this time.
“Oh, my God! No wonder I kept feeling as if Gramps was hiding something.” Neither spoke for a few moments as Max wrapped his head around this new truth, then said, “Another thing. If you and Gramps hadn’t been separated, you think you’d probably have figured out how to get back, right?”
“It’s not that simple. I wish it were, if only for your sake.”
It suddenly hit him. For your sake. She wanted to stay here. Monika wouldn’t be going back even if they figured out how to work the time portal. She’d stay here with her current family. Maybe Gramps would stay, too. This was their home.
SOFIE BARELY SLEPT even although her bed was the softest she’d lain in since they’d arrived in the past. Every time she closed her eyes, her thoughts drifted in and out, denying sleep; Max’s wounds, his mother’s anxiety, Birgitta’s murder, Karl’s and Lotte’s lies. And then she recalled Monika saying she remembered Karl telling her something about Vikktor and Sofie, but couldn’t remember the details. Karl had abruptly changed the subject.
She eventually drifted off to sleep long after everyone else, as evidenced by all the snoring going on around her. Awakened by the sound of laughter gusting up from downstairs, Sofie opened her bleary eyes and stumbled to her feet, feeling like a zombie. After splashing water on her face and tidying her rumpled clothes as best she could, she braced herself and headed down toward the voices.
Max must have been watching for her, because the moment she entered the busy kitchen, he jumped up and came to her side. “After breakfast, will you accompany me on a walk, fair lady?” he asked, smiling crookedly.
She nodded absently and followed Max to the table. While she ate, she barely heard the chatter around the table because she was too busy worrying about talking to Max. Of course she loved him, but that wasn’t the issue. She still felt she didn’t deserve him. But it wasn’t fair to push him away, either. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d already been hurt physically, and pushing him away would just hurt him emotionally. What was she to do?
NEARLY AN HOUR later, Max and Sofie sat in the grass beneath the canopy of an old oak tree, her heart racing as she waited for him to speak, not sure what she hoped for. Much between them had gone unspoken, and they had many occurrences to catch up on and discuss. What had happened after Max had confronted Ryan in the stables? Who really had killed Birgitta? What had happened after Max and Ryan had left the gasthof? Were the Feld gendarmes still hunting for Max and Ryan, or had they given it up, or did they now have another suspect, perhaps even someone in custody?
And what about feelings for one another? She expected Max to broach that topic. She already knew Max wanted to marry her. What was she to say? That she loved him, too, and would be his unworthy wife? Would she deny loving him to save him from loving her? Her stomach churned and her head hurt. “
“You know,” Max said, “I sat right here yesterday, shortly after I saw my mother standing on the porch and then you and I had, well, you know. I must have lain here several hours. It gave me a chance to rest and to reflect on our situation—the time travel, the murder, getting stabbed, my family, and our relationship. A lot has happened and it is a lot to take in.”
Sofie brushed at dried dirt sticking to her clothes, struggling to quiet the drumming in her ears that was making it hard for her to hear Max’s words.
“You know, I still don’t have a clue what happened the night of Birgitta’s murder. Seems no one else wants to talk about it. My God, it’s been eating at me, especially sin
ce the Feld gendarmes think Ryan or I did it. I have my own suspicions, but damned if I know anything for sure.”
Max quickly continued. “I also realize now that you and I probably don’t even really know each other. We didn’t have a romantic relationship, except in my head. I expect I’m an idiot for thinking we did. In our time, you probably would have had me arrested for stalking. What a loser I must be.”
Sofie raised her head to look at him, and a soft gasp escaped her. Oh, my poor Max!
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to push you into a relationship that you didn’t want,” he concluded.
She stared at him. She couldn’t let him go on berating himself. “Max, no. It wasn’t all in your head. I’m in love with you, too, but I’ve been going through my own internal turmoil. This has not been easy for me. For years I’ve blamed myself for the accidents that hurt or killed my family, things that wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me. Then, when Birgitta got killed, you got blamed, and then you got wounded. Don’t you see? Again, none of that would have happened if it weren’t for me, if I hadn’t stuck my nose in where it didn’t belong.”
“Oh, Sofie, no. You weren’t responsible for any of that. I needed to know what Ryan and Anneliese were up to. You did the right thing coming to me. You are kind and gentle and loving. I don’t know what happened in your past, but I cannot believe it was your fault. My injury certainly was not your fault, either.”
Sofie sighed, her sorrow overpowering, and tears welling in her eyes. “You’re wrong. I cause people to get hurt or die.” Tears rolling down her cheeks, she said, “I should live as a recluse the way your grandmother did and stay away from everyone.”
Max reached out to hold her hand, but she pulled it back away. Then he softly whispered, “Tell me why you think that? What horrible things have you done in the past?”
Taking a calming breath and letting it out slowly, shuddering a bit, she complied. “It’s hard to talk about. As you said, we don’t know each other that well—at least not our past histories.” She paused, looking into his eyes. “But I trust you. Do you remember that night we hid in the cellar in Riesen? You asked me how Tobias and I learned English, and I told you that we lived in Seattle for several years.”
Max nodded. “I remember.”
“Well, you also asked me what happened, why I left and came back to Germany. It’s a really long story, Max.” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she stopped talking, afraid she would cry again if she continued.
He reached over and took her hand in his. “I’m listening. We’ve got all the time in the world. Please talk to me.”
Sofie looked at him and then, in a rush of words, said, “I met a man there, a professor. We fell in love and married. Tobias and I moved into his house. He was a perfect husband and a perfect father. Tobias adored him.” She paused a moment to regain her composure. “Our lives seemed wonderful. Then I discovered we were expecting a baby, and I was thrilled. We bought baby clothes, prepared the most adorable nursery, and I delivered a beautiful baby girl, Sylvie.”
She stopped talking suddenly, and looked away, dabbing at new tears with her hand.
“What happened then?” Max asked, so quietly that she barely heard him.
“My life was perfect. And then I ruined it. We were in our car. My husband had been in the hospital for a broken leg, which he got playing football with some friends. I had picked him up from the hospital while Tobias was at school. On our way home, my cell phone rang and I answered it, even though I was driving. I was distracted and didn’t see the car in the intersection. We crashed.”
“Oh, Sofie, I’m sorry,” Max said.
She trembled slightly, though it was warm outside, then pushed wayward hair out of her eyes. “There’s more. Jason died at the scene. Sylvie was in a coma for a week, and then she died, too.” Sofie stopped, sobbed for a moment and wondered at the raw pain still lingering in her admission. “I had cuts and bruises and internal injuries. After surgery I eventually healed . . . but I should have been the one to die. It was my fault.”
Max put his arm around her, and she leaned against his shoulder and cried again.
“All my scars—physical and emotional—aren’t enough payment for my mistake. I’m a murderer.”
Max pulled her closer and she sobbed, tears soaking his borrowed shirt. He stroked her hair and let her cry until her tears were spent.
“You didn’t deliberately cause their deaths. It was an accident. If I’ve learned anything from our time travel journey, it’s that we can’t spend our lives worrying about things we can’t control, and especially not things in the past. You can’t undo what happened. You can only forgive yourself, keep going, and try to do better. I’ve been a terrible father to my children. If I’d paid more attention to them, Ryan wouldn’t have acted out and gotten himself into trouble. I can’t change the past, I can only work on being a better father to him from today onward.”
Sofie nodded as a tear slipped down her cheek. “There’s more, though. I nearly got Tobias killed, too, about a year later. After teaching my last class of the day, I went back to my office, one that I shared with another professor. His wife stormed into the office, and they got into a big argument in front of me. She pulled out a gun. I tried to intervene. She finally calmed down and put the gun away. They made up and were leaving the office when I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to pick up Tobias from school. He’d tried to call, but I hadn’t heard my cell phone in all the commotion.” Her voice choked up and she stopped talking. Max stroked her hair. “I drove straight toward the school, in a hurry to get there. A few blocks from his school, I was stopped by police cars. There’d been an accident, and paramedics were there. Tobias had begun walking home and got struck by a speeding car.” Sofie shuddered again, eyes sore and head aching. “He was taken to the hospital, where he went into a coma. A month later, when he finally came out of it, I quit my job and moved him back to Riesen, thinking he would be safer. So much for that plan.”
“I have to tell you this. My father forgot to pick me up from baseball practice one day,” Max said. “I was a typical dumb kid, thinking I could walk home, too, but when I crossed a busy street, a car swerved around the corner and hit me. Didn’t go into a coma, but had a bad concussion and two broken legs. It was my fault for not looking. But, Sofie, these things happen to everyone. You gave Tobias the care he needed from his ‘accident’. Tobias is healthy and happy, and he doesn’t blame you. You can’t be everywhere, protect everyone, and prevent every bad thing from happening.”
“But it was my fault for not being on time.”
“No. Bad things just happen sometimes and they don’t have to be someone’s fault. If you need to place blame, place it on the person speeding near the school. But nobody’s on top of things all the time. That’s why they are called accidents; because the consequences were not intended.”
“You really believe that?”
“Yes, I really do. You’ve gotta stop blaming yourself for everything that happens.”
“I might be a jinx, if nothing else,” she said.
“I can probably say the same thing about me. Probably we all can at times.”
“But there’s still more. My parents died when I was a baby. And my grandfather died, too. In a plane crash. Everyone around me . . . well, you get the picture.”
He hesitated and looked as if he wanted to say more. Finally, he said, “To be honest, I’m not certain your grandfather is dead.”
She tilted her head. “Why would you say that?”
He shrugged. “This is kind of awkward. I was eavesdropping yesterday. Mom was talking. It sounded as though he might still be around.”
“I heard something like that, too. I thought I was just grasping . . . letting my imagination go.” Max nodded. “All these years I’ve believed he was killed in a plane crash. Why would he have let me think that if it was untrue?”
“I think we need to confront my mother, Gramps, and your gre
at-aunt, and have a discussion.”
They sat in silence a few moments. Finally, Sofie said, “You know, I don’t think you killed Birgitta. Do you know who did? Karl told me he thinks it was Tante Lotte. It’s possible, but I can’t picture her doing that.”
“I think we all need to discuss that, too. We need to include Ryan and Anneliese in that topic.”
Sofie nodded. Max looked away for several seconds, then said, “Whether or not you and I have a relationship, I’ll do everything in my power to help you and Tobias get home. And I won’t abandon you if we’re stuck here. I’ll take care of you in whatever way you want.”
Sofie reached out and touched Max’s hand, searching his face and looking him squarely in the eye. “We still have much to learn about each other,” she said softly, “but one thing I know already is that you’re a good man. You’ve shown me that over and over again. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be stranded with.”
“Well, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be stranded at all.”
Sofie smiled. “I’m actually glad that I am, in a way.”
Max raised his brows.
“You pulled me back into life. Until you showed up, I had given up on practically everything.” He tilted his head, as if confused. “You didn’t just help,” she added, “I’ve fallen in love again. I never expected to do that.”
Now Max beamed at her. “You aren’t just saying that?”
Sofie shook her head and they embraced. Before parting Max kissed her long and passionately, then pulled back. “I hope you haven’t fallen in love with a guy who’s going to prison or going to be beheaded.”
Sofie smiled, feeling really content for the first time since arriving in the past. “We can’t let that happen, now, can we? Somehow, we’ll find out who really killed Birgitta, and you’ll be cleared.”