But Not Forever Page 9

  “What’s his name? Mister Loken’s first name?”

  “Such odd questions from you today, Emma. Are you sure you have recovered from your head injury?”

  “I’m just a curious girl.”

  “I can see that.” He tapped his chin. “His first name is Tor. I was sure you had met him before this.”

  “Not really.”

  “Mister Loken is working on our land, constructing another barn—or motor garage I hear them called. I want to be ready. There’s a new invention called a motor car, and I hope to have one here in Monte Cristo, although the carriage will never be replaced, as horses are more dependable than a motor. And I assume the carriage interior is much more comfortable for the weaker sex.”

  He stroked the arm of his brown leather chair. “However, the motor car will be a convenience to get me back and forth to work on occasion, when the weather allows. I will learn to drive the contraption, and this will free up Maxwell to devote his time to your mother and the boys as they get older. Respectable men are starting to acquire them, and a man in my position cannot be last.”

  I dragged my mind from the impossible coincidence of Tor. “Motor cars will replace the horse and carriage. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “Well, we should stay with a subject we both know something about. I apologize for boring you with talk of a new-fangled invention.”

  “It doesn’t bore me at all.”

  He spun a spoon around on the table. “Dear, we have more important things to discuss than construction projects and new inventions. Serious things.” He took a breath. “Emma . . .”

  He brought the spinning spoon to a standstill. A ray of sunshine from the window behind his head hit it just right, almost blinding me with its mirror-like finish. It was the shiniest, most ornate spoon I had ever seen in my life. I waited with clenched teeth.

  “Your mother and I have decided to send you to boarding school. This town is too rough-and-tumble for a girl of your breeding. You are a young lady now. We must consider your eventual match, and it certainly will not happen with someone from Monte Cristo. The men here are brutish, really, even the better reared ones.”

  John looked down at his plate, miserable with the job of springing this news on his daughter. “I realize that just fifteen is generally younger than the usual age to be sent away.”

  Marched off to boarding school.

  Forced into marriage.

  Unholy plan.

  I unclenched my teeth. “Where?”

  “Your mother has found you very nice accommodations. The Oldfield’s School for Ladies. Only the best families send their daughters. And there is an opening available. We sent for literature several months ago, and it arrived by post last week. It seems a very enjoyable place.” He hesitated. “This fine school is in Baltimore.”

  Baltimore!

  A line of sweat formed in the narrow strip of skin between his mustache and nose. He fumbled around for his napkin and wiped his forehead. “They have even introduced the subject of chemistry for ladies. I know you will like that sort of advanced curriculum. Just imagine all the books they will have in their library. You can read and read to your heart’s content. And their choir is one of the finest. It will be very stimulating, Emma. The school here in Monte Cristo is lackluster to say the least. We may have to hire a private tutor for Jacob—”

  He was rambling now. “When?” I croaked.

  “We will send you by train. We have purchased a ticket for next Monday. The boys will not be told until you and I depart on Sunday for the Everett Station. It will be upsetting to them, and that is the real issue right now, although your mother believes they will forget you quickly—they are so young. Do I have your word you will not say anything to Jacob and Miles?”

  I bobbed my head. My heart hurt. The boys would be more than upset. They would be devastated. And I somehow knew the way back home was here. Right here in Monte Cristo. Not Baltimore. I had a week to find it.

  “Thank you for not making a fuss, my dear Emma. I knew I could count on you. Now, here is our chicken. Splendid.” John nattered away through the rest of the meal while I took my fork and pushed the apples and walnuts from my Waldorf salad around on my plate, choking down a few bites.

  AFTER lunch, John had Maxwell drop him down the street at his office. The carriage turned and started for home. When we reached a vacant area of the road, I took the lovely yellow silk parasol and used it to hammer on the window frame. “Maxwell!”

  The carriage swayed to a stop. Maxwell had switched to a black-and-blue-checked cap to match John’s manly rig and had set it, once again, at a jaunty angle. He held on to it and leaned back, peering in the window. “Are you quite all right?”

  “They’re sending me to Baltimore. Forever! I have to see your grandfather.”

  Maxwell thought for a minute and nodded. “Tomorrow night the moon will be full. I will let Kerry know after I’ve determined a plan to get you further up the mountain to my grandfather. She will deliver the message to you. Don’t contact me yourself, miss. That will only lead to trouble.” He nipped at the horses and got us back out onto the bumpy road.

  Trouble.

  Trouble tore my forehead and bruised my ribs and scratched at my arms and legs. It hissed at me across the dinner table and snatched sweet children out of my lap. It banished me to Emma’s bedroom, alone and scared. And now Trouble wanted to haul me off to Baltimore, away from Monte Cristo and my only way home.

  Trouble. With a capital T.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Emma

  2015

  Emma watched as Rapp’s uncle drove the white van away from the curb and back onto the congested road. He honked the horn and put a fist out the window with his thumb pointing up. Once again, they were on their own without adults, and Emma was getting used to her independence.

  Her friends shouted and laughed and talked over each other about the latest goings-on as they strolled in a happy troupe to their destination. Emma loved their openness, their uninhibited, friendly banter. Just any old thought originating in their minds landed in their mouths and rolled to each other’s ears. Nothing was strained through a sieve, picked apart, and checked for merit or effect before being spoken. She listened to the unvarnished truth of their stories and smiled down at her bare legs, scandalously exposed to the world in Sonnet’s short skirt. Her sun-reddened skin was turning a light shade of brown, and her long strides and swinging arms were indistinguishable now from theirs. Emma was thrilled beyond measure to finally look like she belonged with the rest of the group.

  It took an hour to walk to Professor Kapoor’s Montlake home, a brick, timber, and leaded glass dwelling that appeared ready-made for an old-fashioned Englishman rather than a modern University of Washington professor. Evan bounded up to the porch and lifted and thwopped a bronze pineapple knocker against the rounded oak door as the rest of them stood behind him on the crooked walkway.

  Professor Kapoor opened the door wide and led them to a cozy room. French doors opened to a small garden packed with fruit trees and pots of herbs, not unlike Cook’s walled garden off the side of the Sweetwine house. The professor poured mint-adorned iced tea while his birdlike wife, dressed in a sumptuous Indian sari, hefted a platter of cookies to a low table, warm sugar and chocolate aromas trailing in from the kitchen.

  “Well, now.” Professor Kapoor beheld them each, one at a time. “Evan tells me you have a situation? Even though I’m a theoretical physics professor who believes in the concept of time travel, I remain skeptical of those who seek me out. That’s the scientist in me. But curiosity won, and I wanted to meet you and hear about your intriguing problem.”

  “Professor, I told you all about us in my email. Here’s Emma. She’s the one who traded places with my sister.” Evan handed him the old photo from the Ice Caves Fair. “We’re pretty sure that’s Sonnet standing there.”

  The professor stared at it and back at Emma through his gold rimmed spectacles. He wore a gray sui
t of clothes, not unlike what her father would typically wear. He was as properly dressed as any man Emma had seen so far in Seattle.

  “This isn’t you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, you have traveled here from a very long distance.”

  “Yes, I . . . departed . . . unexpectedly. Mercifully these good people were there to find me.” She smiled at them all, strung out like a row of lustrous pearls across the professor’s long couch, and felt enormously blessed by her good luck.

  “Departed . . . from 1895. I like that.” He handed the photo back. “There is a theory about time travel. Boiled down, it works something like a fissure in space that allows someone to get carried through a crack-like substance. As in an earthquake when tectonic plates move and crash into each other, one rises and one falls. There is space between them that allows gas and air to escape from the earth’s interior. This time travel theory works something like that. Only it’s out there.” He gestured to the sky. “And not down here.” He tapped his feet. “Different timelines bumping up against each other and shifting open to let material—or in your case, two girls— escape.”

  He added, “Some areas are thought to be more active than others. Like the Bermuda Triangle. Have you heard of that?”

  “I have,” said Rapp. “It’s where all those ships and planes disappear.”

  “Yes. There have been different theories for those unexplained mysteries. Traveling through a crack in time is one of them. What’s interesting, though, is the fact that an actual switch took place. Someone from the past moved to the future and someone from the future moved to the past. Two identical humans. I’ve never heard of this before.”

  Lia said, “It happened in exactly the same spot, at exactly the same time of day—on the same day—to two people who are like exact copies. Exactly one hundred and twenty years apart.”

  “Yes.” Professor Kapoor took a sip of his ice tea and sat back in his chair. “Have you heard of a doppelganger?”

  “Niki and I researched it,” said Jules.

  “Well, there is a theory—and this may or may not have anything to do with your situation—that everyone has a twin. A mirror image. Someone from the same time or even a different time—past, present, or future. There are legends of these beings in ancient cultures and myths as diverse as Nordic, Egyptian, French, and Native American. They are known as double spirits or even time travel harbingers of life or of death. Over the span of hundreds of years, writers, poets, and even monarchs have written or spoken of their own experiences or tales of someone they knew involved in these unusual occurrences.”

  Evan reached for a second cookie. “Do you think Emma and Sonnet are doppelgangers?”

  “Maybe. And just maybe they’re the same person. Another theory out there is when you die you are someday reborn and are yourself again without the memories of a previous life. Except for a feeling of déjà vu at times, you remember nothing. There are actual religions based on this belief. Sonnet may be physically but unconsciously living a past life. In this same way, Emma is here living a future life. And if this is so, they are both feeling a very strong connection to everyone they encounter.”

  “Okay. This is getting weird,” said Niki.

  “You were all right with the time travel theory but not with a past life theory? You have to keep your mind open, Niki. It could be that and some sort of doppelganger thing, too.” Evan swung around at everyone. “We all have to keep our minds open.”

  “And stay upbeat,” added Lia.

  “Well, these are just possibilities to reflect on—it’s all vague theory at this point,” said Professor Kapoor. “I’m just ruminating. These spheres really aren’t my specialty. Time travel is. What it is doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you switch these two girls back.”

  “We don’t know what to do,” said Jules.

  “You don’t want Sonnet and Emma in the same dimension. You must switch them both back—or neither. You will have to somehow time this, somehow coordinate this. Just as it has already happened. Do you understand?”

  “How?” asked Lia. “Can you help us with that?”

  “I’m not sure.” He turned to Evan. “Is your sister considering these things?”

  “Knowing Sonnet . . . yes.”

  “Good. That’s half the battle. I’ll discuss this matter with my colleagues and call you. I have to tell you, honestly, this is a critical situation.” He got up from his chair and made his apologies. “My wife and I are expected at a reception today. We must go now.”

  With the professor’s nudging, Evan helped himself to the rest of the cookies and spilled them into a paper bag the professor’s wife held for him. Out on the sidewalk, Rapp called his uncle who agreed to pick them up in front of Husky Stadium in twenty minutes.

  Emma had listened intently to Professor Kapoor and had many questions. There were twenty short minutes to get answers from Team Switch before they were herded into the white van and had to shift their conversation to small talk.

  EMMA stood her ground. She would stay home tonight instead of going to a party. It was what she wanted with every fiber of her being and she would not let Lia convince her otherwise.

  “You’ll meet some of our friends, Emma. There’ll be lots of guys there. Wouldn’t you like to meet a cute guy?”

  “Cute guy?”

  “Handsome boy.”

  “No, frankly I’m just not interested, Lia.”

  “You’d rather stay home with my parents then go to a party? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I would just rather not go.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a beau to whom I will remain true.”

  “A beau?”

  “A suitor.”

  “You mean a boyfriend?”

  “Yes, a boyfriend.”

  “I don’t know if I believe you. Really, Emma, this is the first you’ve mentioned him.”

  Emma hardened her heart and clamped her jaw. She would answer any question and be as open and truthful as they, except for this one thing. She would say no more about her sworn secret. “Aunt Kate is making popcorn for me and displaying a film about a girl and wizard in a city called Oz.”

  “Well, Mom has finally found someone to watch that old movie with her. You know this is weird, don’t you? Sonnet would never stay home if she’d been invited out to a party. Never.”

  “This is what I want. And I am not Sonnet. You do realize that, do you not?”

  “You’re starting to worry me.”

  “What more must I do? Give me this gift, Lia. Please share her with me. My relationship with my own mother is unlike what you have with yours. I just want . . . her attention a little longer. If you met my mother, you would understand. She is fonder of my brothers than she is of me, and Aunt Kate makes me feel special. There. I’ve said it.”

  “She’s here, isn’t she? She followed you. You let your mother follow you and sit in your head.” Lia’s face melted with pity. “Okay. I’m telling Niki you’re sick, then, and going to bed. If she knew you were making excuses to stay home just to watch a ridiculous movie with Mom and Dad, she would come drag you out of here.”

  Emma kissed Lia on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You’ll be careful, right? No crying. You need to really channel Sonnet, tonight. There’ll be no one around to rescue you.”

  “You needn’t worry. I know just how to be Sonnet now.”

  She watched from the porch as Lia ran down the stairs and joined Evan, Niki, and Jules, who were standing out in front of the house on the sidewalk. They would walk up the street and fetch Rapp at his uncle’s and go to a party with cute guys. Emma had no need for a cute guy.

  She made her way to the family room where Aunt Kate sat waiting for her with a big bowl of popcorn on the low table. Emma wiggled in against her warmth. Uncle Vince was already asleep in his big chair, legs and feet stretched out, softly snoring. Peetie, now accustomed to her smell, settled down across her thighs. S
he ran her fingers through the dog’s soft fur.

  What a sight she must be. Short shorts. A clingy sweater. Bare feet. An un-brushed tangle of wild red hair cascading down her back and shoulders, as if she were nothing more than a woman of the night. And most surprising of all, an animal curled in her lap.

  She had never felt so at ease.

  The lights were low, and the room was still and soothing. She immersed herself in the tale of a young girl and her dog being transported in a revolving house to the colorful Land of Oz and only happy-cried a little bit at the end along with Aunt Kate. It was the perfect movie. She liked this many times over the frightful Mockingjay film. She had watched Lia in the dark theater love Mockingjay, but she still had work to do when it came to observing people die in bloody terror. A house landing on a bad witch, deserving of death, but spouting no blood, was much more enjoyable.

  Emma urged Peetie off her lap with a few pats on the couch, stretched out her legs, and said goodnight to her new family.

  What a wonderful evening. Niki and Lia worried about her giving their secret away, but all she wanted was to be swept up in sweet motherly attention, and yes, love.

  Was that so wrong?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Sonnet

  1895

  Bess and Kerry woke me up early. It was time to finish the clothes inventory, and Bess was in charge. She pursed her lips at me, ready to head into battle over Emma’s wardrobe. “No lying about today, Miss Emma. You would best get your breakfast and go pick wildflowers. We will be in your room until lunch seeing to the madam’s tasking.”

  “I’ll help, Bess.”

  “Why in heaven’s name would you do that? Help? Mercy me! Kerry, get her up and dressed. I will return at half past the hour. The madam will have our hides if this is still undone when she returns later today.”

  Kerry waited until the door closed. “Well? Tell me about the Gold Nugget Hotel.”