Epilogue
Six years later
“ A re you peeking? You can’t be peeking. We’re almost there.”
“I can’t see a thing,” Emily repeated for the sixteenth time as she let James lead her down the street. She knew they were outside; that was hard to conceal. And they were in Hartford. Eye blinds were only that effective. “You’re not waving a hand in front of my eyes, are you?”
James cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Why does it matter so much?”
“Just hold on for a second longer. Walk. Straight on. I’ve got you if you stumble.”
So she walked and walked and rolled her eyes, not that he could see her. Finally, he ordered her to stop.
“Close your eyes while I undo the blind. Ready?”
“Yup. ”
The blind was off, and fresh air and a light breeze hit her eyes.
“Now, look.”
She was at a crossroads in a suburb in Hartford, with a park on the left across the road, and the right …
“You brought me to the Marshall House.” The house looked slightly better than she remembered—someone fixed the roof, which was great, but why …
“James, what’s the point of this?” she asked with a tired sigh.
“Well, this. The house.” He rotated her so she was facing it and hugged her from behind.
“Thanks for showing me, but I’ve seen it already. I was here the day it was sold.”
“But you weren’t here the second time it was sold,” he said. “To me.”
Emily turned, lightheaded in disbelief. “What?”
“I bought the house.”
“H …how?”
He smiled smugly. “One lump of gold and decades and decades of investments and savings.”
“No way.”
“Most certainly way.”
“It’s yours?”
“Well, not really.” James shrugged.
Her heart contracted. Honestly, of all the jokes …
“It’s yours,” he continued. “If you’ll have it.”
“I … uh … this can’t be.”
“Believe me, it is.” He hugged her again as she stared at the house. Hers.
She had a freaking house .
“I was wondering,” James began, and she knew right away where this was heading, “if you’d have me with it.”
“James …”
“I know. No marriage until you finish college. I agreed to that. I understand relationships in your world work a bit differently.”
“Yes, and—”
“Then you said, no marriage until you got a job. Because we should be able to support each other.”
“Yes—”
“And, what?” he chided gently. “Emily, if you don’t want this, just tell me. You know I’m fine living like this, too. I’d just like to know if I should stop thinking of incredibly original ways to propose to you.”
“You have those?” Her pulse picked up.
“A few. Maybe.” He gave her a teasing smile.
“Well, I …” A house. She had a house.
And a job, and her family, and James. She had everything. Almost everything.
“You know about the booking we have next weekend on Tybee?” She snuggled into his embrace.
“The little beach house for two?”
“Mm-hmm. Are any of your incredibly original ideas compatible with that?”
“Maybe,” he drawled. She smiled and kissed him.
Behind her, someone cleared their throat. She turned. “Gramps?”
Will, who stood on the sidewalk a few steps away, raised a hand in greeting. “Sorry to be interrupting … uh …” He made a general waving motion with his arm .
“You didn’t tell me you’d visit today.” He said he’d come in three weeks for her birthday. Not that she complained. Better more visits than less. And every time she saw Will and saw that he was doing well, her mood lifted. Enough that it made her forget how she could never visit him again.
“The opportunity was too good to let it go,” Will said. “James told me you’d be here.”
“You two had conspired?”
“Listen to what he has to say.” James turned her back to Will. The latter had taken a device out of his almonite bag; a screen the size of a phone, in a metal and dark blue casing. Emily imagined it was how a mobile phone would look like if the Victorians had invented it.
“I’d been tinkering with this for a while. I think it finally works,” Will said.
“What is it?” Emily took the offered device and turned it around in her hand.
“A camera of sorts. I have a duplicate at home. It can record something and show it on the other screen as it’s happening.”
“Like a video call?”
“I suppose. I worked some almonite in it—sacrificed the jacket for it—so it should work through time.”
“Through …” Emily put a hand to her temple. “You mean with this, I can see your time? I can watch you there?”
“Careful, Flicker,” James said. “No stalking.”
“Would you like to try it?” Will’s eyes lit up. “James can come with me and operate the other one.”
“Yes.” Emily’s mouth spread in a big smile. “Yes, yes!”
“Where was that excitement at the house reveal?” James jokingly complained .
She gave him a peck on the cheek. “Go! Oh, wait, what do I do with the camera?”
Will showed her how to operate it, and then he and James traveled back.
Seconds dragged on like minutes as Emily waited, eyes glued to the screen. What if it doesn’t work? She’d gotten too excited. She should’ve been used to the disappointments by now. Even though Will had confirmed she still had almonite in her body, the liquid injected into her six years ago had completely suppressed it—like a vaccine for the vaccine that was the original serum. But it never cleared, and despite the joined efforts of the people in the past—like Will and Dr. Deniau—and the present—Miss Graduated-With-Highest-Honors Debbie—they never found a cure.
A grainy image flickered on the screen. Emily gripped it tighter.
The lines melded into a strange angle of James’s face. “Emily? Can you see me? Hear me?”
“Yes. Yes! Can you hear me?”
“Looking good, Flicker.”
She caught a faint other voice—Will—and then the camera shifted as James moved. Emily saw a bit of green grass and a gray wall, and then the picture went dark. “James?” She knocked on the screen, even though she knew it wouldn’t help.
Or it would. What did she know of Will’s inventions?
“It’s okay,” James’s voice came through. “We’ve entered the house. It’s a bit dark in the hallway.”
The lights slowly adjusted, and Emily saw a shaky staircase and the still well-remembered upstairs hallway of the Marshall House. For a second, she spared a glance at the real one. What a strange thing, to think they were in there right now—just not in this time. That thorny fist that liked to squeeze her heart every once in a while came back. The more time passed, the more she found these things strange. Would she completely forget the feeling of time travel one day?
“Here we are.” James pointed the camera upfront as they entered a bedroom. The curtains were pulled back, allowing for plenty of light to leak out on the bed where Sylvia lay, her long hair neatly pulled up. She was tucked under the sheets, only a frilly, lacy top of a gown visible, and she held a bundle of white lace in her arms.
“I’m not quite sure where to point this,” James said. The camera landed on Will, who positioned himself on the other side of the bed, by Sylvia.
“Emily, I’d like you to meet my daughter,” he said.
Emily’s hand flew to her mouth as James focused the camera on Sylvia and the bundle in her lap. A tiny face peeked out of the frills. “Hey, Lady,” she said. “Can’t say I missed you.”
“I must return the sentiment.” Sylvia’s light smile acknowledged Emily’s teasing.
“Ladies,” James chided. “Emily, do you want to see the baby? Can I put her closer to the camera?”
“Of course,” Will’s reply came from somewhere. The camera shook as Sylvia handed the baby to James, and then the scrunchy little face took up the whole screen.
“She’s so cute,” Emily whispered. The baby had a patch of dark hair and what were for now dark blue eyes.
“We’d like to name her Emmeline,” Will said. “After you.”
“Seriously?”
“If you don’t wish so, we can also name her after me,” Sylvia said.
“Oh, no. No way. I can’t strand a baby with that name. Emmeline it is.”
Emmeline showed her a toothless grin and worked one of her hands out of the lace. The tiny fist wrapped around James’ finger as he absently played with it, asking Sylvia if she was fine and Will some other questions. Emily tuned them out for a moment and enjoyed the baby.
Gramps was a dad.
That sounds weird.
The skin on Emmeline’s finger suddenly colored blue. No, not the skin—something under it.
Like Emily had colored when she came in contact with almonite. But there was definitely, certainly, no almonite there.
Emily blinked, and when she looked again, the skin was a normal pink.
“Emily?” James’ voice indicated this wasn’t the first time he’d addressed her.
“Huh?”
“Will said the battery is going. We may flick out soon.”
“Uh, yeah, that’s fine. We can do another one when it’s filled. Uh … did you … is Emmeline okay?”
“Sure. She’s on camera, isn’t she? Is something wrong?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just a weirdly colored glitch on the screen. Probably because of the battery.”
“I’ll work on that,” Will said.
Emily said her goodbyes, the camera was turned off, and in a few minutes, James returned.
“There she is.” He wrapped her in a hug and twirled her around. “Did you enjoy the conspiracy?”
“It was a great surprise. Thank you. We need to figure out how to turn on that camera long-distance. Imagine how I could spook Will …”
James laughed, grabbed her hand, and they began walking back down the street.
“Isn’t the little one adorable?” he said. “Maybe one day we could— ”
“Take it easy, cowboy. Weekend on Tybee, first.”
“Very easy. We’ll take it very, very easy.” James sighed contentedly.
Behind her back, Emily stretched her fingers and pulled them back into a fist. She took a deep breath.
Heartbeat, wait. Heartbeat, stop.
“Emily?” James paused his walk and inspected her intently. “Everything all right?”
She let the disappointment fly away in the wind. “Yes,” she said. “Everything is just perfect.”
The End