Timebound(32)

“Yeah… it’s getting better now. But there’s a part of me that insists the picture was never there. It’s not just that I don’t think things should be able to vanish like that, but more that I remember two opposite things at the same time, if that makes sense?”

“None of this makes sense,” I said. “What I can’t figure out is why you saw the picture disappear at all. I don’t think you have the CHRONOS gene since the medallion looks ordinary to you… but Connor—that’s my grandmother’s friend—said that anyone who wasn’t wearing a medallion wouldn’t realize that anything had changed, when there was a time shift.”

“Maybe it’s enough to be touching someone who’s wearing a medallion?” Trey suggested. He moved his shoulder and his knee slightly, which had been brushing against me all along due to the small booth.

“Maybe,” I said. “But… you believe me now, right? That what I’m telling you is real?”

Trey made a slightly sick face. “Yes. I’m going to have to go with Sherlock Holmes on this one—‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, is the truth.’” He stared at the spot where the picture had been. “I would have said that the things you described earlier were impossible, but I’ve just seen an example with my own eyes. I could try to pretend it didn’t happen… I might even make myself believe it… but I know better.”

“That’s why I’m holding your hand on the medallion,” I said. “I’m scared that if you take your hand away, you’ll forget… that you’ll stop believing me.” Tears came to my eyes and I blinked them back. “I know that sounds incredibly selfish, but I really, really need someone to believe me right now.”

His grin was back, just a bit shakier. “Okay, but I think we’re going to find it difficult to finish this search with our hands in this position. And people are going to stare if we try to walk down the street this way. Maybe… if we just sit really close?” He put his left arm around me and very slowly pulled his right hand away, while I watched his face for any changes.

“See?” he said. “I still remember. We’re both fine.” He tapped the touch pad to pull up the rest of my dad’s bio, his arm still around my shoulders. “And I could definitely get used to browsing this way.”

I gave him a sideways glance, but didn’t disagree. My entire body had stiffened when Nolan, Charlayne’s latest matchmaking candidate, had put his arm around me at the movie. Being next to Trey, on the other hand, felt natural.

“Is there an address at the bottom?” I asked.

“I think so. But Kate… maybe you need to finish reading the bio.”

I scanned the three paragraphs quickly. The bio included the same bit that Dad always added about the Math Olympics, the same college data and interests. Some additional facts, however, brought me back to reality—the new reality. “Harry lives with his wife, Emily, and two children, in a faculty house overlooking Eastwick Pond.”





It was just before 4 P.M. and the traffic was beginning to pick up as we left the coffee shop and turned onto Massachusetts Avenue. We held hands even as Trey collected the laptop and stowed it in his bag, probably looking like a lovesick teenage couple who couldn’t bear to be apart for even a second. And within a few minutes, we looked like a lovesick teenage couple having an argument.

“He will still know me, Trey. He will. He’s my dad; how could he not know me?” I had already said this several times, but Trey didn’t seem convinced. I wasn’t entirely convinced myself, but I also wasn’t willing to acknowledge any other possibility.

We waited for the walk signal and Trey pulled me toward a bench that curved around the small park at the center of Dupont Circle. Several people—a few of them homeless, judging from the bags and blankets surrounding them—were seated at the stone chessboards nearby, intent on their games.

“I’m not sure, Kate. I know you want to see him—and I’m more than happy to take you if you really think that’s best.” Trey put his finger on my chin and pulled my face in his direction, forcing me to look at him. “Listen. It’s a ten-, maybe fifteen-minute walk to my house from here. We’re over near Kalorama. And it’s a two-hour drive, give or take, to Delaware. If we leave now, we’d get out of the city before rush hour and we could probably be there before dark.”

He held up one finger as I moved to get up from the bench. “But… hear me out. I have no doubt that, in your timeline, your father loves you dearly. To this Harry Keller, however, you’re going to be a stranger. Maybe we should go to your grandmother. Or at least call her before we go? You said that she believes you can somehow… fix… this. Shouldn’t we concentrate on that?”