by Izzy James
Her smile disappeared abruptly. “You must be hungry.”
He had to agree he was, but he would much prefer to hear her laughter again.
“Would you like to go out or would you like to go home and I’ll cook something?”
“Let’s go out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Should we invite your grandmother?”
“She isn’t home. Tonight is the monthly meeting with her retired colleagues. They’re having a Christmas party.”
They walked into the twilight arm in arm. He handed her into her car. It was a bit awkward, but it was the best he could do given the circumstances. If he’d had his curricle he would have driven them. Apparently it takes months to learn to drive one of these things. It didn’t look more complicated than driving coach and four, and he could do that and court a lovely lady at the same time.
The Y-Town Pub recalled The Swan on a snowy night. Several men and woman clustered around the bar. Tables ringed the room for diners. They were shown a table in front of an eighteen-light window overlooking the street.
Once seated Olivia excused herself. She was stopped by a friend on her way to the back of the room. The woman made eye contact with him and sauntered over before he realized her intent.
Blonde hair glinted in multi-colored lights of the window. She took a slow sip from a stick in her drink, used to make her painted mouth pucker in a way she thought was alluring.
“Who might you be?” She dipped a little closer so he might see her advantages.
“I be a friend of Miss Olivia’s come to stay awhile.”
“If you ever tire of the nerdy gimp give me a call.” She handed him her card.
“Ye misunderstand. Olivia is my friend. I only tire of people of no consequence.” He tore her card and returned it to her.
She turned on her heel and shoulder-bumped Olivia on her way back to the bar.
“What was that about?”
“That person is not yer friend.”
“Honey and I grew up on the same street.”
“We have words for such brazen behavior and none of them are good.”
“We have words too, although the sentiment behind them appears to be fading.” She arranged some packets in a little bowl. “You must think it scandalous for me to spend so much time with you unchaperoned.”
“The thought crossed my mind—but my situation is so unusual I have to make allowances. It is clear that the rules here are very different.”
“I’ve read books that indicate men and women were never allowed to be alone.”
“It’s a bit of an exaggeration. We could go to a party together in an open carriage.”
A playful grin lit her eyes. “And just where would we go in this open carriage?”
“Okay, hun, whatcha like?” A woman dressed in black pants, buttoned-down black shirt, and a tiny black apron arrived table-side with pencil and a pad.
Olivia ordered something called a hamburger and fries.
He’d been going to order the oysters because he knew what they were, but, “I’ll have the same,” was out of his mouth before he could recall it.
Their waitress left after Olivia answered all the questions to the woman’s satisfaction.
Raised eyebrows answered him across the table.
“I don’t know how long I’ve got, so I think I should try everything I can.”
“Makes sense, but you still didn’t tell me where we would go in that open carriage of yours.”
“To the assembly rooms at the Sign of the Crown or perhaps the Raleigh. It’s only twelve miles.”
“And you would wear your breeches and navy blue coat.”
“And you a gown of crimson silk.”
“I would like that much better than my docent costume.”
“Do ye dance?”
Her face gained a rosy hue. “A little.”
“That was clumsy of me. I do apologize. Of course ye are hindered by yer ankle are ye not?”
“A little.” Her face opened in an honest smile. “If I have enough support in a boot I can manage a dance or two.”
“Speaking of dancing. Can ye tell me where the musicians are hidden? Every place we have been today there has been music, and yet I see no instruments or men playing them.”
“It’s radio.”
“Radio?”
“Sounds are recorded and then sent over radio waves to devices designed to receive the signals.”
He supposed if he wrote the sentence down and pondered it for some time he might understand what she meant. As it was there was too much to distract him, not the least of which was a pair of lapis-blue eyes talking of dancing with him in a crimson gown.
“After supper let’s run by the library.”
The waitress returned with two platters loaded with strips of potatoes and a large beef sandwich on a type of bread he’d never seen. His stomach clenched when the delicious smell hit his nose. After the blessing he picked up the large hamburger, as she’d called it, and took a bite.
“What do you think?”
The sauces blended with the beef and bread. He finished in four bites.
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything like it, or as good, before.”
The melodic sound of her laughter finished his meal better than any treat from the kitchen could have done. Olivia ate slowly, in the end wrapping up half of the food on her plate.
They arrived at the library twenty minutes before closing. Olivia headed directly for the children’s section.
When stopped by his questioning look, she rolled her eyes and said, “Children’s books are a good place to start. They explain the rudiments of a thing and then you can explore the details later, once you know the questions you want to ask.”
He couldn’t argue with her logic, despite his chagrin as the stack of thin volumes grew.
Olivia made quick work of locating books she thought he might find useful. By the time she was done the stack was a full foot high.
“May I?” She stepped aside to let him heft the books which were definitely taller than a single foot.
“May I ask why a woman of obvious means, such as yerself, does not have a servant to help ye with such tasks?”
She stopped to face him. A light above caught strands of gilded brown hair floating around her face. “Are you asking about slaves?”
“Well, not particularly, but if ye like.”
She pushed a button and the back of her car opened.
“Slavery was abolished.”
“Not every servant is a slave.”
“I understand that. How many do you have?”
“None. Not everyone can afford such a thing and not everyone agrees with the practice.”
“Where do you stand?”
“I can afford it.”
He watched the tension release her shoulders. She seemed to breathe a little easier.
“Tomorrow morning my grandmother and I will attend church. You may come if you like.”
“I would.”
The drive home was short, but long enough for the decision Olivia had to make. Until Max entered the room in modern clothes Olivia wasn’t sure what she’d thought of him. A unique exhibit from a bygone era? Someone to ask questions of and answer questions for? A fascinating person to hang out with? Someone to admire, like the hologram of Daniel Morgan at the Revolutionary War Museum, not because he was real, but because he’d lived a life that allowed the freedom she now lived? A living diary of the eighteenth century.
Now he was a man. A turn-your-belly-to-jelly good looking man. A man who would never look at her twice.
She reconciled herself. He wanted to stay in her time. It wouldn’t take long for him to understand the twenty-first century and blend in. If he had that choice then his world would expand. Tomorrow at church the expansion would begin and she would lose him. Why would God send him here and now? That she could not reconcile. It was a miracle for sure, but to what purpose? Olivia would just have to b
e his friend for as long as it lasted. And that would have to be enough.
6
Grams stared into the fire in her voluminous plaid flannel night gown.
“How was the party?” Olivia asked.
“Not much of one. Sheppard was the only one who showed up besides me.”
Olivia removed her coat and slumped into the opposite chair.
“Did you have a nice time?”
“Nah. Sheppard and I were never really close. She made her excuses and I made mine and I came home.”
“I’m sorry, Grams.”
Grams glanced up from the fire. “It’s okay. Attendance has been dwindling for the past year. I think we were all worried about retirement, what we would do, would we have any friends.”
“Retirement is claiming them?”
Grams eyes slipped back to the fire. “Yep. They’ve found their way.”
“You’ll be sorry to see it end.”
“Yes, I will, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t.”
“Did you eat?”
“I did. There’s some cheesecake in the kitchen if you’d like a piece.”
“That is something I’d miss.”
“Why would you have to miss it?”
Olivia turned her back to the all-seeing eyes of her grandmother and made for the closet.
“On the way home I was thinking about Max and how different things are for him here. And that led to thinking about how different it would be for me if I went to his time.”
“Be careful.” Grams made her way to the kitchen. Olivia went the other way around.
“What?” A silly giggle bubbled out in spite of her attempts at control.
Grams swung around quickly to face her. “He is cursed.”
Olivia felt the smile drop from her face. “I know that. I think it’s only natural to think about it. I mean who gets to meet someone who’s travelled through time? Nobody. That’s who.”
“Except us.”
“Yes.”
“And that means we have a responsibility to help him break the curse and get back to his own time.”
“What if God allows him to stay here?”
“What if He doesn’t.” Grams wasn’t asking a question. She pronounced a judgement. Olivia had seen this decided opinion behavior before. She was done thinking about it, she’d decided the way it was going to be, and she was usually right.
“Okay, okay. It’s still not wrong for me to imagine and think about things.”
“Imagining and asking him about his time is one thing. Imagining yourself in his time—with him—is an entirely different thing and you know it.” She pointed her finger. “It’s dreaming. And dreaming about things you can’t have is dangerous.”
Only if it can’t come true.
Grams placed a couple of Christmas-decorated paper plates on the counter. Olivia cut the cheesecake. Grams ran a k-cup of tea through the machine.
They went back to the fire. Grams was right, of course. It was dangerous to think of going back there with him. Riding in an open carriage under the stars on a cool fall night. Dancing with him in a crimson dress.
What would he think of the two new outfits she’d commissioned? An authentic mantua in indigo with a pale apple-green petticoat. Created by Ingram’s, it cost a pretty penny, but she wanted to look the part for the Christmas Open-Town. The deep chocolate-brown riding habit was pure indulgence. She’d no place to wear it yet, but she couldn’t resist the color or the sale price.
Perhaps they would dance at the Christmas Open-Town. He could wear his real clothes and she could wear her new mantua.
Olivia pulled her brain, if not her heart, out of dangerous ground. Grams was right. He had to go back and she had to stay here. “Have you figured out what we need to do?”
“I think he needs to pray for forgiveness if he hasn’t already. And then he needs to demonstrate he’s learned the lesson.”
“Do we know what the lesson is?”
“Compassion, empathy, and the opposite of arrogance.”
“Humility.”
“Yep.”
“Have you ever thought about going back in time?”
“Of course. Not then, though. No anesthesia. It would make my job horrible.”
“You wouldn’t have your job.”
“They were still bleeding people back then.” Grams continued as if she hadn’t heard. “I could never let anyone put a leech on me or cut me open to let me bleed because I had pneumonia. That happened to George Washington. They bled him.”
“It must have been his time anyway.”
“Probably. The bleeding didn’t help.” Grams stood. The energy of her argument propelled her to the kitchen with the dishes.
Olivia followed.
“It doesn’t matter, we can’t go back in time with Max.”
Grams looked up from the dishwasher. “No, we can’t.”
“I invited him to go with us in the morning.”
“I assume he agreed.”
“Yep, so we’ll have to pick him up.”
“Well then, I’m off to bed. We can discuss this further with him tomorrow afternoon.”
Olivia stood in front of the long mirror on the back of her door. She had no illusions. The only thing she had going for her was that she’d not gotten fat. Thin hair, yep. Thin lips, yep. Hawk-like nose, yep. Large round eyes instead of sexy almond-shaped eyes, yep. Too nerdy for classmates to get her sense of humor, yep. Walk with a limp forever, yep.
And yet, Max wanted to dance with her in a crimson dress.
Of course, she was the only person he knew in this century. If he got to stay here that would change quicker than she could fathom. Of course he’d told Honey what she could do with her proposition. In the name of friendship. Technically he could be in love with someone else and still be her friend. Technically. That didn’t mean she could be his.
She flopped down on her bed, eyes to the off-white swirls of the ceiling. He would go back to 1769 and none of this would matter any way. She might as well enjoy his company and friendship while she could. Surely no harm would come to her by being his friend.
In the morning they chose the SUV. Grams rode shotgun. Olivia pulled up in front of the Ballard house. Max waited, bible in hand.
“I was hoping we’d be early enough to see the conservatory,” Grams said softly.
“Good morning!” Olivia offered as Max took a seat in the back.
“Large wagon.”
“We thought it would be more comfortable.”
“Aye. Tis.” Max laid his bible on the seat next to him. “Plenty of room to spread out. I like a large carriage, takes big horseflesh though. This is more convenient.”
Olivia grinned, glad she’d been able to please him.
“We have to go back over the bridge.”
“Where is this church?”
“Corner Stone Church not far from Gloucester Point.”
“So you’re a pair of dissenters?”
Grams bristled in her seat.
“The Church of England is no longer the church of the colony or state now,” Olivia offered.
“Well, that is a blessing.” Olivia glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Max picked up his bible once more and placed it in his lap. “The more I read, the more I wonder at any faction thinking they have all the answers.”
“I agree.” Grams turned. “We fellowship here because it’s the only one Olivia and I have found that agrees with most of what we understand.”
“What don’t you agree with?”
“They think Jesus only drank grape juice.”
Max released a chuckle. Olivia found a parking place in the small lot.
“After church we usually go for brunch. Would you care to join us today?” Grams offered as she extricated herself from the seatbelt. Max beat her to the door and handed her down.
“I would be delighted, ma’am.”
Olivia hopped out before Max could arrive at her door. He offered his arm to Grams. Ga
rrett waved from their usual pew and stepped out into the aisle. Max handed Grams into the long bench first then stepped in to take a seat next to her. Olivia slipped in next to Max and Garrett sat next to her. Olivia felt Max stiffen before taking a glance around her to Garrett.
Pastor Tim bustled to the front to make his good mornings. Olivia placed her hand on Max’s arm before he could stand, causing a swirl of tingles winding their way through areas she wasn’t supposed to acknowledge in church. She found herself more distracted when it was time to sing. An unaccountable shortage of hymnals in front of them required her to share with Garrett. It was embarrassing to be jealous of her grandmother for having the chance to share a hymnal with Max.
Max kept his eyes on the pastor as he gave the sermon, on what, Olivia would have to ask Grams later. They sang another hymn and then they could leave. Olivia sent a prayer asking for forgiveness for her distraction as she followed Max and Grams down the aisle to the parking lot. Garrett, barely a pace behind her, whispered, “Who is that guy?”
He’s the man I’m going to marry.
Max, with Grams in tow, waited for them on the asphalt. Garrett slipped a step or two faster and reached them just before Olivia.
“Max.” Max stuck out his hand. Garrett stood a fraction taller and shook his hand.
“Garrett.”
Olivia walked between the tension of the two men. She’d not seen Garrett behave this way before. Of course, for years Grams insinuated that she should marry Garrett. She seemed to believe that one day Olivia would wake up and see what had been there all along. That she was in love with Garrett and he with her. This was the first time she’d ever seen any evidence that Grams might be right about Garrett. Olivia on the other hand had never been farther away from Garrett and that far-from-likely eventuality.
“Max, Garrett is an old friend from school.” Olivia turned to Garrett. “This is our new friend, Max, from Yorktown.”
Max arranged himself to stand between Grams and Olivia.
Garrett turned his gaze to Grams. “Same place?”
“Yes.” Grams replied before Olivia could respond.
“I’ll follow you.”
Max handed Grams back into the truck while Olivia gained her seat behind the wheel. The topic of the sermon had been thankfulness. Grams and Max discussed thankfulness all the way to the pub.