Chapter Twenty-Nine

I called Renn’s phone a dozen times during the night. Every time I got the same response: no message has been set up yet. I woke up with a foggy brain. I had plans to hang with Lilly until she left for the airport, but it was way too early to call her. I forced myself to work on my screenplay.

A few hours passed and I was, to my surprise, deep into my writing when Lilly texted.

I dreaded her leaving. Knowing she was close by kept my anxiety at a somewhat manageable level. We’d spent yesterday baking cookies and watching Hallmark movies. Our laughing carried me back to normal days.

After a quick shower and another cup of coffee, I walked outside. My heart pounded in my throat. It was only a dash to Lilly’s front door, but time didn’t apply to Natasha.

“Morning.” I looked up at the tree branches. Her leaves wavered in the sunlight. “Wish me luck.”

A branch touched the top of my head as I rushed past her. Lilly’s front door was open when I reached it, and I hurried inside.

The minute I saw her open suitcase on her bed, waiting to take her belongings back to London, the flutters started inside me.

“I’m just a text away,” Lilly said. “And you have Kyle.”

“What if Renn doesn’t come back? I mean, seriously, I can’t live in fear the rest of my life.”

“Any contact from him at all?” Lilly asked as she folded a sweater and set it on her bed along with the rest of her clothes.

“None,” I said. “My calls go nowhere.”

“Here.” Lilly tossed me a sparkly, black tank top, one that I’ve always loved. “You want this? It doesn’t fit me anymore.”

I held the top against my chest. “What if he can’t get back here?”

Lilly shoved her underwear into the side pocket of her suitcase. “He’ll be back. I saw the way he looked at you the other day. And kissed you. Guys don’t kiss like that unless they care.”

“Not if they put him in jail or whatever they have in the future. I just know he’s in trouble. I feel it in my soul.”

“Stop obsessing.”

I folded her tank top, then unfolded it and folded it again. “I’m trying. I feel like I’m living this other life, not mine.”

“Oh, Jessie.” Lilly sat next to me on the bed. She put her arm around me, pulling me close to her side. “I wish I could stay. I really do. But I have to get to work. Here, take these, too.” She handed me her red high heels. “I never wear them anymore.”

“Now I need a dress to go with them,” I said.

“Remember that dance in sixth grade? When we wore shoes we couldn’t walk in?” Lilly imitated our teetering in those heels.

“We were pitiful,” I said. “Life was so uncomplicated. Not like now.”

“And we couldn’t wait for now,” Lilly reminded me.

For the next few hours, we chatted about growing up. Neither one of us wanted to be those awkward kids again. But we also wished life could be as simple. All too soon, her bags were in her mom’s car, and we were saying goodbye.

“See you on the porch,” she said, giving me a big hug. “At Thanksgiving.”

I squeezed her as tight as I could. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

We promised we wouldn’t cry. I was having a difficult time keeping true to my words.

“Text me a photo in your new dress. And my shoes,” Lilly said, as she got into the car. “Take Renn to some really fancy restaurant.”

She was so positive he was coming back. I had to carry her positivity with me, right next to my heart. And then maybe I wouldn’t be so unsure.

****

By 8:30 that night, I was mentally exhausted. Stretched out on my bed, I followed the cracks in my ceiling. Their jagged lines disappeared into the corners. When I reached the end, I’d start over again, my eyes roaming back and forth, in a repetitious pattern.

“Jessie.” My father stood in the doorway connecting my apartment to the kitchen. He was hunched over, in that way people act when they don’t want to intrude.

“I knocked, but you didn’t hear me. Your grandmother said I should just come in, but…” He held onto the doorknob.

“It’s all right.” I sat up, fluffing two pillows behind my back. “C’mon in.”

The mattress sank underneath me as my father sat down. It reminded me of the out-of-syncness I’d felt earlier. And for a split second, my body froze, thinking Natasha was nearby.

“Renn is a good hombre,” he said. His words lined up correctly with the movement of his lips. I took a deep breath and relaxed. “Where did he say he lived?”

“Papa don’t pretend with me. I told you where he was from.”

“I’d like to meet his folks,” Pa said.

“I don’t know how that’s possible.” I smoothed my blanket across my lap.

“Jessie, listen up. He obviously cares for you, and I know you care for him. But when dealing with someone slightly off you can’t do it with a lick and a promise.”

“I don’t want to hear any more.” I covered my face with a pillow.

My father pulled the pillow away and tossed it to the foot of the bed. “Let me just finish.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “You need to help him. Not feed his delusions. We really should talk to his family.”

“Then what you’re saying is that I’m just like him. I’m crazy, too. Because I told you I saw him disappear.”

Pa sighed as he reached into his pocket for a cherry pop. He handed me one. I didn’t really want it, but I took it anyway and slowly unwrapped the paper.

“No, you’re impressionable. You always have been. That’s what makes you creative,” he said.

“Let me ask you something. Try and be open-minded, okay?” I stuck the pop in my mouth, tucking the sweetness into my cheek. “I know Mom used to believe in all sorts of stuff. I found a bunch of her books on ESP and dreams and channeling people. So, you can’t tell me she didn’t. She even had one on time traveling. I’ve still got all of them.”

“Your mom, she did have a bit of the frivolous in her. You’re like her in those ways.”

I just had to blurt it out. “Renn says you and mom were set up by that place he works for. That you came from 1872.”

My father stared at me as if I were crazy. “God almighty, Jessie!” He took the cherry pop from his mouth and pointed it at me. “And you believed him?”

“You did have amnesia.”

“Can’t deny that.” He nodded. “That’s a mighty far stretch to time traveling.”

“But what about those recurring dreams you have about being on a ranch? I was little, but I know Mom wanted to have them analyzed. I remember her saying they must mean something. Renn told me that’s what happens when someone is pulled from their time. They dream about it over and over.”

“Jessie. Jessie. Jessie.” He peered at me over his glasses. “I don’t think you should see this fellow anymore.”

“That’s not going to happen.” I hoped. “I know he’s my soulmate. Just like you and mom.”

“Your mom was something all right.” Pa closed his eyes and hummed for a few seconds. I couldn’t name the song, but it was what my parents sang to me when I was little.

I knew my father was thinking of my mother. He would watch her fry an egg, or sweep the floor, or sit and read, always with the same dreamy expression on his face. And hum. Just like now.

His singing, his smell of aftershave and cherry, his faraway gaze, it all carried me back to our house with the big front yard and cracked sidewalk.

“Mom was your life, wasn’t she?” I asked. “It didn’t matter about anything else.”

“She sure was. From the moment we met to the day she left us.”

“So it could be true, everything Renn told me.”

“This isn’t one of those movies you watch. This is the real deal.”

“And in your real life you work as a cowboy. Why is that? Maybe because that’s what you were before. You talk like you came from another century. And with Mom gone, well…you’ve never been the same after that.”

His chest heaved. “Oh, Jessie. I’m sorry for not being around much. I did the best I could.”

“Oh, Pa, I know.” I leaned forward, putting my arms around him.

“If it wasn’t for your grandparents, I don’t know what I would have done. I’ve tried to send you a postcard from every city,” he said. “I knew it wasn’t much.”

“And I love getting them.”

“You should be getting one more. I mailed it before getting on the plane.”

We snuggled close like we used to when I was a little girl.

“From Arezzo.” He said it with a perfect Italian accent, making the Z sound almost like a D. “I hadn’t been back there since the day I met your mother. That first time I saw her, standing in front of the fountain, water spraying behind her like mist. Ah, it was love at first sight.” He nestled my hair. “I’ve told you this story a million times, haven’t I?”

I smiled. “At least.”

“It was like a slice of Heaven dropped into my lap.”

“Or maybe you dropped into her life, like Renn said. That’s all I’m asking. Just think about it. Mom might even have believed him.”

“Strange things do happen. But this story of yours. This is one of the wackiest you’ve ever told me.” He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “I better vamoose. Sweet dreams, little lady.”

After my father left, I went back to staring at the cracks in the ceiling. Between the lines, I saw my parents’ faces. Kissing in front of the kitchen sink. Dancing in the backyard. Laughing as they read the paper.

It all became so clear to me. My screenplay had to be about my parents’ love, tragic and beautiful. And how my relationship with Renn mirrored theirs. How Renn and I hoped for the same life together. Finally, I had a direction.

The words came fast and furiously. Pages and pages of scenes. I knew they were out of order, but organization would come later. I would weave what I had written about Renn and me into my parents’ love affair.

I’d need my dad’s help with the details about how he felt when he arrived here and how it was meeting my mom. Maybe he could remember living in 1892.

But whatever, it was a perfect story for a movie.

I wanted all that perfection with Renn.