“And he saved everybody,” Henry added. “See, Dad? Us kids can do adult-sized acts of courage.”
Pete laughed. David didn’t.
“Okay, lads. Here’s the deal. Get permission from Pete, Matt, and Jack. If one of them is willing to accept responsibility for ye, then ye can go. But either ye both go, or neither of ye go. I won’t have one left behind grumbling about it for the next year. Got it?”
“Do we have to get all three to agree, or just one to take responsibility?” Robbie asked.
Pete laughed again. Gotta love ’em.
David never broke character, but as soon as the boys were out of the room, he’d crack up. “Ye each need a person to take responsibility for ye.”
“Not fair,” Henry said. “We’re a set. A pair. We go together.”
“That’s right,” Robbie said. “You just said both of us go or nobody goes. It’s only fair if one person takes responsibility for both of us.”
“I told ye the terms. Grumbling about it won’t help. Take it or leave it,” David said.
Robbie grabbed Henry’s arm, pulling him aside. “Uncle Matt and Uncle Jack are our best bet. Forget Uncle Pete. He’s a definite no.”
“Okay, you talk to Uncle Matt. I’ll find Uncle Jack,” Henry said.
Kenzie jumped up out of her chair. “Whoa. Just a minute. You can’t make that deal. They’re not going without you, McBain.”
David kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, Kenz. No one wants responsibility for them.”
The boys slung their arms around each other’s shoulders. They were mirror images of each other, with matching University of Kentucky basketball T-shirts and long shorts, and curly red hair they attempted to tame with hair products. Their faces glowed with something akin to defiant determination.
“Dinna be so sure, Da,” Robbie said in his best imitation of his dad’s Scottish accent. “Watch and learn.”
Kenzie mouthed, “Watch and learn?”
The boys turned as a single unit but ran off in different directions.
“Uncle Jack!” Henry yelled.
“Uncle Matt!” Robbie yelled.
When Pete heard one of his catch phrases—watch and learn—thrown back at the twins’ parents, he pushed open the door and escaped the building. He knew now how the standoff was going to end. Matt had quoted Churchill at the conclusion of the meeting, “Study history, study history. In history lies all the secrets of statecraft.”
Neither Matt nor Jack would agree to take the twins, and David would need all the secrets of statecraft to negotiate world peace in the McBain household when the twins had to face the reality that they were never going on an adventure without their father.
Pete went outside to clear his head, walking without a destination in mind, eventually finding himself at the dock with a front row seat to the gold and blue sunset as dusk lowered a curtain over the James River.
He wasn’t a painter like Kit and Sophia, or a historian like Matt and Jack, but he read and wrote poetry, not only for the rhyme and rhythm and the vivid imagery, but for the story and love language. How many poems had he written to Sophia over the past two decades? Hundreds. How many had he sent her? Zero. Volumes of his poems were tucked away in locked boxes in his Colonial-style two-story house on MacKlenna Farm, but no one had ever read them or even knew of his passion.
He meandered almost to the end of the dock, listening to waves lap against the pillars and the sides of the bass fishing boats and the pontoon. If he had the keys, he’d take one out for a night run on the river. Instead, he climbed aboard the pontoon and punched in the security code to switch off the alarm. He might even sleep out there tonight.
“Pete,” Charlotte yelled. “Wait.”
Charlotte wasn’t alone. She brought reinforcements—Amber, Kenzie, and Amy—a quartet of brooch ladies. They had all been stranded in the past: Kenzie and Amy in the twentieth century, and Amber and Charlotte in the nineteenth. Amber and Charlotte had both fallen in love with men from that time, men who had agreed to live in the future, but their situations were completely different from Sophia’s. Thomas Jefferson could never come to the twenty-first century. Talk about screwing up history.
Pete didn’t know much about the third president. The one thing he did know, he didn’t like at all. The man had slept with his wife. Okay, maybe legally Sophia wasn’t his wife anymore, but still…
“We want to talk to you,” Kenzie said.
Pete headed straight for the liquor cabinet. “Sorry, but I’m all talked out.”
Kenzie followed behind him. “We’ve come to encourage you.”
He pulled out a bottle of whisky. “You want a drink?”
“Sure. Give me a short-pour.”
“That’s all you want? You’ve got to go back and face your sons.”
Kenzie grabbed two glasses from the cabinet. “I’m not going back until David sends me an all-clear text.”
“Smart girl.” He poured whisky into the glasses. “Amy can’t drink, but Charlotte, you and Amber can. After all, it is your liquor.”
“Sure,” Amber said. “Give one to Charlotte, too. She’s got the night off—no work, no call. The drink will help keep her from going back to town to check on patients when she doesn’t have to.”
Kenzie opened the refrigerator. “Amy and Carlton Jackson Mallory VI want an orange juice.”
“He’ll be the ninth,” Amy said. “It’s so perfect, very baseball-ish.”
Kenzie stared at Charlotte. “Seriously, did she say baseball-ish?”
“I’m going back through family records to be sure,” Charlotte said. “I was going to look when Margaret Ann was born, but never did.”
“Trust me, he’s the ninth,” Amy said. “Jack’s not usually wrong when it comes to numbers. Matter of fact, he’s rarely wrong about anything. It’s so annoying. He knew I was pregnant before I did.”
Amber accepted her drink. “How’d he know?”
“He said I tasted different.”
“Stop!” Pete said. “I’m a guy. Have a little respect.”
Laughing, they carried their drinks to the open deck and settled in on the sofas, tucking their feet under their hips. Four intelligent, talented, wealthy, sensuous women whose husbands doted on them. And for the time being, Pete had them all to himself—a harem. What a lucky son of a bitch he was.
He put his feet up on an ottoman and leaned back. “Okay, what brings you ladies out here? And keep it clean.” He sipped the rich-flavored Balvenie, sighing at the honeyed sweetness, a real classic. And because Amy’s comment had twisted his thinking, he remembered his wedding night and how sweet Sophia had tasted.
“We all have stories of going back in time and being abandoned by a brooch,” Amy said. “But we don’t regret the way things happened.”
“Well, I don’t regret the way things ended, but being abandoned in the middle of a Civil War battle was terrifying,” Charlotte said.
“I was a soldier, dropped into the middle of a London air raid, with no backup and no way to protect myself. I was terrified too. It was awful,” Kenzie said. “I never stopped wanting to go home.”
“If Olivia, Connor, and Rick hadn’t come after me,” Amber said, “I would’ve died.”
Amy shivered. “JL and I almost died, too. And I had a boyfriend and a job I loved. I wanted to go home, and was convinced I could find a way, but Jack came along before I could start looking.”
“So what’s the point?’ Pete asked. “I’ve heard all your stories. Sophia’s situation was different. She found her soul mate and decided to marry him and remain in the eighteenth century.”
“It wasn’t her first choice,” Charlotte said.
“Maybe, maybe not. From what I know now, she was a beloved First Lady, a wonderful mother to Jefferson’s daughters, a cherished grandmother to his grandchildren, and a prolific and extraordinary artist. She led a very full life.”
“But we don’t believe it was what she wanted,” Kenzie said.
Charlotte sipped her drink. “Kit met Cullen in the past, and they remained there until they got sick and had to come to the future.”
“But that was where Kit was meant to be,” Kenzie said. “She was living in the future by mistake. Not the other way around.”
Pete took a long drink of the whisky, tasting the gentle spice with a little vanilla. He needed a cigar. Hell, he needed a lot more than a drink and a smoke. “The brooches don’t make mistakes.”
“It sure seems like it when you get dumped somewhere and can’t go home,” Kenzie said.
“The brooches force you to turn challenges into opportunities. They teach you to move from self-pity to a place of compassion for others. You don’t have to give up, or even be afraid to start in the first place. You learn that if it doesn’t kill you, whatever it is will make you stronger. Each of you remained resilient through failure and persistent through obstacles. I know. I’ve read all your reports, all your comments, all your trials and tribulations. I know your stories. And this time it’s different.”
“No it’s not, Pete. Sophia has a successful career in Italy,” Amy said. “I can’t believe she doesn’t think about her art and her studio every day. I can’t believe she doesn’t close her eyes, click her heels, and say, ‘There’s no place like home.’ I can’t believe she wants to stay there and abandon her life in the twenty-first century. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Pete, stop and think where you were the past five years during Sophia’s summer holidays,” Kenzie said. “You might have been in Italy at the time, but you were never close enough to discover she was missing and go after her. The brooch kept trying until you were in the right place at the right time.”
Amy gasped. “I think you’re on to something. There was no point in abandoning Sophia in the past if no one was going to rescue her. Pete had to be in the right place too. Just like Jack and David were in the right place to come after us.”
Charlotte’s jaw dropped. “Oh, my God. I think you’re right.”
“Makes sense to me, too.” Amber’s phone beeped with a text message. “I’ve got to go. Daniel wants to go out with Braham, and Mom and Dad are eating a late dinner with Elliott and Meredith.”
“Where are the guys going?” Kenzie asked.
“They’re probably coming down here,” Charlotte said. “There’s an inlet about a half mile up the river. Braham, Cullen, and Daniel love to go there at night and fish. They say it’s the only place quiet enough to believe they’re back in the nineteenth century.”
“Is that where they want to be?”
“I think they just like to reminisce,” Charlotte said. “You know, reminisce about ‘the good ol’ days.’”
“Daniel couldn’t give up the internet and hot showers,” Amber said. “And Noah and I would refuse to go back, and you couldn’t peel wee Heather off Dad’s lap. Daniel has permanently relocated to the twenty-first century.”
Charlotte finished her drink and washed her glass in the sink. “Let the brooch guide you, Pete, and when you find Sophia, tell her how you feel.”
Kenzie added her glass to the soapy water. “Don’t dick around. If she’s at all confused about whether to go home or not, your feelings have to be part of her deliberation.”
Pete let out a heavy sigh and refilled his glass. “If we’re relying on the brooch to take us where we need to go, we might show up after she’s married.”
“Not gonna happen,” Amber said, adding her empty glass to the mix. “It’s just not consistent with what we know about the brooches. I wish I could go after Sophia. Kenzie was so wonderful when she and David and Rick came after me and explained how the brooches worked. But what was so cool was giving me time in the past to do what I wanted to do, until I got so sick Rick had to take me home.” Amber hugged Kenzie. “And now you’re my BFF.”
“I thought I was,” Amy said with a fake pout.
“We are the brooch ladies,” Charlotte said. “There isn’t another closer or more loving group in the world. We share a common experience, and we’re all happier, our lives have more meaning, and we all have greater life satisfaction because of what we’ve been through.”
“I thought it was because we all married really hot guys and have fantastic sex,” Kenzie said.
Charlotte grinned. “Well, that too.”
“Aaagh! Too much information.” Pete said. “It’s time to hustle you guys off the boat.”
“What’s the hurry?” Amber asked.
Kenzie pointed down the dock. “Those sexy men coming this way. Can’t you smell the cigars?”
“I’m leaving,” Amy said. “The smell makes me sick.”
Charlotte hugged Pete. “Don’t let anything we said discourage you. We’re all praying for you and Sophia, and we can’t wait to meet her.”
Kenzie, Amy, and Amber hugged and kissed him, too, and the brooch ladies departed the pontoon just as the guys arrived.
“We softened him up for you,” Amy said.
Jack pulled her into his arms. “Don’t leave.”
She waved away the cigar smoke. “Get that thing away from me.”
“Oh, sorry.” Jack handed the cigar to Braham. “Hold this a minute.” Braham held it while Jack hugged and kissed his wife.
David twirled Kenzie around, then pulled her toward him in one fast, fluid move, ending in a perfectly executed dip. “Stay with me.”
“How could I say no to you?”
He lifted her up for a kiss.
“But I’m tired. I’m going to go take a long bath while Granny Alice puts the girls to bed. What happened with the boys?”
“God, Kenz. Talk about ruining a mood.”
“I didn’t ruin anything. You’re here with Daniel, Jack, and Braham to drink whisky and give Pete a pep talk. So what happened?”
“Jack promised them an adventure before summer ends.”
“What did they say?”
David twirled Kenzie again. “They want to go to Tibet.”
She spun back into his arms then spun out. “Oh Jesus. I hope you nipped that in the bud.”
“I told them the monastery was closed to visitors in the summer,” Jack said.
She swished her hips then came back to David for another dip. “And they believed you?”
They did until Blane told them to check their Google machines to see if I was telling the truth. What the hell is that all about?” Jack asked.
“Blane was eating breakfast in the kitchen the day after the plane crash, and Morning Joe was on the TV.” Kenzie popped up out of the dip and kissed David. “Joe Scarborough told his audience if they heard something and didn’t know if it was true or not, to go to their neighbor’s house and check their Google machine. Blane thought it was so funny he started calling his iPad a Google machine. Since then, every time he looks sad, I ask about his Google machine and he laughs. Works every time. But he’s a smart kid. It won’t last much longer.”
“What about the trip?” Charlotte asked.
“They found out I was telling the truth. So next month we’re all going camping and whitewater rafting in Colorado.”
Pete moved away from the group of soul mates and returned to the liquor cabinet and the one thing that could keep him warm tonight. Steeping in self-pity didn’t become him, but he’d become an expert at spinning thoughts and words to avoid feeling the pain of his emotional isolation. And now it was staring him in the face.
He’d been such an idiot. Why hadn’t he gone after Sophia twenty years ago? He could be standing on the dock hugging his wife, just like the other guys. Why hadn’t he turned challenges into opportunities? Why hadn’t he been persistent through the obstacles Sophia’s parents stacked in their way? And his parents, too. Why had he given up?
Because he’d been so damn scared Sophia would tell him her parents were right and he wasn’t good enough for her. It had been easier to accept defeat than to be persistent. And now he was too late.
How in the hell could he ever compete with T
homas Jefferson? The only white house he could offer Sophia was a colonial-style home on a horse farm, while Jefferson could give her the most important white house in the world.
What a dumb-ass he’d been.
38
Mallory Plantation—Pete
Five days later the entire clan gathered on the back lawn near the willow oak, ready to send Pete, Jack, Matt, and three teenage boys back in time to rescue Sophia. JL and Kevin—sans Lawrence, who remained in the NICU under the watchful eye of his medical team—were also there to enjoy the send-off and their two hours of desperately needed couple time.
A picnic spread was laid out on portable tables, overflowing with Kentucky hot brown sliders, chicken salad sandwiches, macaroni salad, potato salad, tuna salad with green apples and eggs, pimento cheese stuffed deviled eggs, fried chicken, hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill, and pies, cookies, and brownies for dessert.
For the Italians there were aged and soft cheeses, prosciutto, salami, olives, carrots and celery, melon, figs and pears, Italian bread and focaccia, gelato, chocolate and pistachio biscotti, and sweet corn panna cotta with fresh blueberry compote.
And lots of wine, Southern sweet tea, pink lemonade, and beer.
Badminton and volleyball nets were set up, along with cornhole and croquet. Phones were tucked into pockets for emergency use only, and there were no iPads or laptops. Jeff and Julie and their kids, Gabe, Shane, Rick, Austin, and the three college kids, had all flown in to celebrate wee Lawrence’s three-week birthday and Sophia’s return to the twenty-first century. If the diamond brooch worked as expected, the travelers would all return within minutes of leaving.
Amy wanted to watch the initials on the window disappear, but she didn’t want to miss Jack and Patrick leaving and returning, so she decided to stay in the backyard. Jack took a picture of the etchings to take with him so the image wouldn’t be lost when history reverted to what it had been. None of them had doubts about the outcome, at least that they’d admit to. The result of the adventure would be as it should be.
Matt had filled a leather trunk with his favorite Jefferson books and rolled-up prints of Sophia’s art. He wanted to keep the books with the revised history to do a deep dive into the minutiae of Jefferson’s life and American history to find out what changed and why.
The Pearl Brooch Page 49