you
know?”
Mike
narrows his eyes and blurts out, “Rewind. See, I told you I know.”
“Mom
…” I feel the color drain from my face, and my stomach wretches.“…works for the
time travel agency?”
Mike
nods. “You really didn’t know?” Molly asks. “But we’ve been there,” she rushes
on. “We saw Mommy in her white lab coat, and she told us—”
“Not
to touch anything,” Mike says. “Her experiments and research are important, and
she doesn’t want anyone to mess them up.”
“But
she’s almost done!” Molly’s shoulders scrunch up to her ears with excitement.
“Then we can go on a vacation with water slides!”
“Yay!”
they both cry out, throwing their arms up in the air while I desperately try
not to puke.
Our
arrangement is forgotten as they run to the living room. I put the cookies
away, trying to piece together what this means before I join them. I find them
on the sofa, arguing over who gets control of the remote.
“Remember,”
I say, wiping my hands on my pants, “It’s a surprise. So don’t tell Mommy or
Daddy.”
“ Or Daddy?” Molly asks, mouth falling
open. “But, how will you get us out of school?”
“I
have my ways.” I wiggle an eyebrow at them and plant a kiss on each of their
heads.
Mike
looks up at me, his blue eyes like Jax’s , staring
right through me. “Can we get McDonald’s at the mall?”
“Happy
meal!” Molly choruses.
I
love their little faces more than anything. The love tugs at me, and I wonder
how my life was ever complete without these little monkeys. “I’ll get you
anything you want as long as you don’t tell.”
They
promise, hands over their hearts, and I retreat to my room to do my homework.
And
to think.
****
My
homework is laid out in front of me. I try to concentrate on it, but I’ve read
the same page four times, and the end of my pencil has snapped off.
Mom
worked for Rewind. I scour my brain, trying to find a memory of that, but I
can’t. I can do little else than fret about what this means. Why is Mom always
working late? What project is she close to finishing? And how does this tie
into our past? Maybe tomorrow I can get some answers from Dad, but until then
my brain is going to whirl with wonderings and horrible what if scenarios.
At
this point, Rewind is my enemy. If they find out what I did, I'll be arrested.
Or worse, they will try to fix the mess I created. But maybe that’s what should
happen. Maybe, but I’m not ready to let Mom go. We haven’t spent any time
together yet. My mind floats back to six months ago, the first time I went back
in time to see Mom.
****
Dad
is buying me the time travel package as a present. I know how much it’s costing
him, but his face is glowing as we step inside the sterile agency. The walls
are pristine white and the furniture is unnatural silver, comfortable but stark
to the eye.
I
clutch the brochures while I study all the information laid out in them about
time travel sickness and what would happen if you try to affect the past, but
luckily such a thing isn’t possible, or so the brochures tell me.
Dad
sits on the sofa beside me and keeps crossing and uncrossing his legs and
rubbing his neck. I’m not sure what he’s nervous about. I’m the one attempting
time travel for the first time, and my stomach is a bubble of nerves.
A
lady approaches with severe red hair clipped back in a tight French twist that
makes her face look like a stretched marquee. We stand and she shakes Dad’s
hand. “Delilah, thanks for taking us so quickly,” Dad says.
She
smiles and squeezes my hand. “Make yourself at home, John. I’ll bring her back
when I’m done.”
I
look back over my shoulder and Dad grins, but he seems nervous as he walks over
to the magazines.
****
I
didn’t notice it then, but now it’s obvious to me that Delilah and Dad knew
each other prior to that first trip to the agency. They were never introduced.
They knew each