42. Chapter 42
Chapter 42
“ W elcome to Casa Ortillo .” Michael flashed his pearly white teeth to Emily and moved aside, letting her and the other two team members into the house. They were led into the living room, an open space with large windows that looked out onto the manicured backyard. A dozen colorful pillows were scattered on the floor, circling a pile of snacks.
“Ooh, Skittles!” Lilianne sat on a pillow with a large floral print and crossed her legs. “Very nice collection of snacks.”
“And there’s ice cream in the fridge. The one with three chocolates.”
“I’ll get that,” Debbie said.
Emily hadn’t intended to come, since she didn’t think she’d be going to the competition at all. But Lilianne asked nicely, and Emily was getting tired of the pitiful looks she got from her classmates these days. She had to show them she was a functional human being. And she had to show Debbie that, too.
Now she only needed to figure out how to weasel herself out of the competition without making Debbie think she was even weirder than she already thought she was.
Lilianne daintily held up one candy.
“You can’t do it like that,” Emily said.
“Like what?”
“You grab a fist of them, not one by one.” Emily grabbed a small fistful of the candy and put it all into her mouth. “That’s the only proper way to eat Skittles,” she mumbled.
Michael plopped on a pillow. “Glad you could come, Emily. With four members, we can finally practice properly.”
“What exactly do you intend to do?”
“Practice cards.” Michael reached over to the coffee table and showed Emily a stack of cards. “These are like Activity, but purely history-based. We do it for fun, but you need an even number of people.”
“Fun?”
“Practicing in the evening is most beneficial,” Michael said. “That way, your brain processes the information while you’re sleeping.”
“Do you and Debbie want to pair up?” Lilianne asked.
“Oh, I…”
“Sure, why not.” Debbie returned with a tub of ice cream and four spoons sticking out of it. She zoned in on Emily. “Unless you’re afraid?”
“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for it,” Emily said.
“Is it because of the SATs?” Michael asked.
“Michael!” Lilianne hissed, in the tone Emily recognized well by now: don’t say anything that might upset her .
“What? It’s not a big deal. I didn’t do the best, either.”
“Not doing the best is a little different than missing the entire thing,” Emily muttered.
“I know I got at least one math question wrong,” Lilianne said.
Emily skipped from face to face. “Really? I thought y’all were…”
“Big giant nerds?” Lilianne smiled.
“History, literature, languages, sure,” Michael said. “But give me science…” He imitated a shot to the head.
“I hate social studies,” Lilianne admitted.
Debbie sat down and played with a spoon. “I can’t remember the periodic table for my life. And I try to memorize it every night.”
“You don’t even have chemistry yet,” Emily reminded her.
“I know! Think about how awful it will be when I get it.”
“Point is,” Lilianne said, “You don’t have to be the best at everything. You take something you like and stick to it. And you persist, even if it may annoy you at times.”
“Like when Mrs. Spencer gets too deep into one of her lectures, and before you know it, you’ve spent an hour listening to ways of how to treat a historical document.” Michael rolled his eyes.
Emily laughed. They weren’t so bad, after all.
“Okay, let’s get to the game.” Michael shifted the cards. “Emily, Debbie, wanna start?”
Debbie pulled a card. “First person to sail around the world?”
Emily stammered. Wait—if she didn’t respond, if she did badly, that could be an excuse—
A light wooziness passed her.
Debbie looked at her, eyes narrowed. “Correct,” she admitted, somewhat reluctantly.
Emily blinked.
“Though you could, theoretically, dispute it,” Michael said. “Magellan died before he finished his journey. Only the expedition continued.”
“The answer is on the card,” Debbie flicked it. “And is therefore correct.”
Oh. She’d done that thing again. Came back from the future to answer.
Michael and Lilianne were up next, and then it was back to the sisters, and Emily had zoned out again during her answer; she had a vague memory of talking, but it was definitely her other self, holding the reins.
Her future self didn’t want her to bail. If she left the team, she’d lose her only chance to go to DC.
But she told Will she wouldn’t go. She didn’t want to.
Or did she?
The game continued for fifteen more minutes, until Michael and Lilianne finally admitted defeat—but, as Michael claimed, only because the ice cream was melting. Twenty minutes and one licked-clean tub of ice cream later, they said their goodbyes and Debbie and Emily headed for the bus stop farther down the road.
“So,” Debbie started. “You weren’t half bad there.”
She’d gotten every question right, save for one she’d mistimed. “Half bad?”
“Fine.” Debbie rolled her eyes. “I… I don’t know where your sudden knowledge came from, or if you decided to hide it all these years to get this incredible effect, or whatever, but…” She stopped and twirled her foot. “I’m kinda glad you’re going with us to DC.”
Emily came to an abrupt stop. “You are?”
“It’s important for me. So, clearly, I want the best people on the team.”
“Uh-huh.”
Debbie tossed her hair over her shoulder and continued on the way. Emily ran to catch up with her, and they walked in silence.
“Kayla can’t come to the Summer Games this year,” Debbie said.
“And?”
“And… would you maybe like… to compete with me? We have to be in pairs.” Debbie maintained her forward gaze.
“Isn’t that sand building and similar stuff? Not serious enough for you? You can’t exactly put Sand Castle Champion on your college application.”
“Yeah, I know.” Debbie’s voice took on a trace of defensiveness. “It’s still a competition.” And then, almost under her breath, “I like the trophies, they have those cute dolphins on them.”
Debbie hadn’t looked at her, and Emily didn’t try to establish eye contact, but she still smiled as they walked along. “I’ll go with you. We’ll get them dolphins.”
Dad came to visit over Spring Break. Even though the atmosphere was not as tense as on previous visits, small talk was still awkward, and it was evident everyone was trying too hard to avoid the topic of Veronica. He left after an hour, promising to take the girls on a trip the next day.
Later, when Emily went down to get a snack, voices from the kitchen made her pause on the staircase. Nicky—and Dad. He came back.
“… you know she didn’t have a will for custody. Who does that at forty-five?” Nicky said.
Emily sat on the stairs, trying not to make the wood creak.
Her aunt continued, “I’ve gone through it with an attorney. I can build as good a case as you can.”
“Do you have to make it sound so hostile?”
Something touched Emily’s shoulder, and she nearly shrieked, stopping herself with a hand over her mouth. Debbie kneeled behind her.
“How else should I sound? They’ve been here for ten years. They’ve adjusted. Their life is here.”
“I understand that.”
“Not to mention Emily has a right to express her opinion to the court. As for Debbie, they’ll listen to her wishes. Do you think either of them will wish for you?”
“No, Nicole. I’m well aware of that.” Dad’s voice carried a trace of sadness.
“What are they talking about?” Debbie whispered.
“Because Mama’s gone, custody could go back to Dad. But I think because Nicky’s been taking care of us for a while now, she could ask for custody herself.”
“Is he going to take us back? B-but, I can’t go to Philly. I have things planned. That would ruin all my progress with my extracurriculars—”
“I know. He’s not the worst, though. Dad. I think he means well.”
In the kitchen, Nicky continued. “The only thing that matters to the judge is what’s best for the children.”
“And you think it isn’t best for them to properly know their father?”
“Sure, because people get a lot from knowing you properly. Ended up great for my sister.”
“It’s none of your business—”
“But it is. I was the one who had to pick up the pieces. You were just the one who disappointed her.”
An uncomfortable silence followed. Debbie looped her arm around Emily’s. Emily was torn between running back to her room and distracting herself, or running into the kitchen to yell at them, to tell them they were all wrong.
Struggling between the choices, she stayed on the stairs. In the middle.
“You know how she liked that ice cream—the one with the candied fruit—” Dad said.
“Tutti Frutti. She always ate it when we’d go to Leopold’s. I said to her, try Chocolate Chip, just…”
“It can be hard to get,” Dad said after a pause. “She said they never got it right elsewhere.”
Nicky let out something between a sniff and a chuckle.
“When she was pregnant with Emily, she got the worst craving for Tutti Frutti. I drove to a dozen stores and couldn’t find any. So I tried to make it myself. With Gummy Bears. It went as badly as you can imagine. We accidentally left the can out. I was clumsy and overturned it. That pink, sticky mess was everywhere, with Gummy Bears swimming in it, like somebody drowned them…”
Nicky actually laughed this time. Dad’s low rumble joined her.
“I didn’t cheat on her,” he said after a while.
“Then why’d you let her think you did?”
“I had problems. That part is true. But the question of my loyalty to Ronnie and the girls was never in doubt.”
A chair screeched, glasses clinked, the overhead cabinet doors slammed shut. “If you loved them so much, why did you let them go?”
Debbie yelped, and Emily realized she was squeezing her arm. Her heartbeat picked up.
“I screwed up. It was better for them to think what they did of me.”
“Benjamin.” Nicky’s voice was calmer now, gentler. “If they’re your family, you don’t send them away because things get hard. You don’t leave them like that.”
“While I appreciate your wisdom—with all respect, Nicole, you don’t know everything. In some situations, you have to.”
“Name one.”
Emily gripped her sister’s arm even harder. Dad said nothing. Well, he could be gesturing something, but she doubted he’d tell her aunt about time travel through pantomime.
“I thought so.” Nicky sounded disappointed.
“I’m not going to take them away.” Dad’s voice was barely perceptible. “You’re right—I did this to myself. Their life is here. They don’t need more stress right now. No matter what the law says, we both know what’s best for them. Do you think I’m equipped to handle two teenage girls alone?” He chuckled. “But I would like to see them more. So that one day, I’ll at least be equipped to give them advice. Even if they’ll be too old to take it.”
Emily released her grip. He didn’t tell her.
“It’s up to them to decide if they want to see you.” Another glass clinked. “But if that’s what you all want, I’ll encourage visits, when possible. How do you like the beach?”
“I can’t say I have any specific feelings toward it.”
“There’s a festival in August. Games, too. They’re competing together this year. Ask them about it. Maybe you can come down for a few days.”
“And some days before that?”
Nicky sighed. “And some days before that. As long as they want it!”
Emily looked at her sister. Debbie gave her a barely perceptible nod.
“We do!” Emily shouted.
“Heavens to Betsy!” Nicky yelped. Chairs screeched, and both her and Dad showed up in the doorway to the kitchen. “Well, Benjamin,” Nicky continued, “If you’re ready for this, you’ll also gonna have to teach your daughters some manners.”
Dad leaned on the doorway and smiled. “We’ll see what can be done.”
Leaning on the blue and white railing of the Georgia Queen, Emily watched the murky waters below foam as the riverboat left the dock to sail upstream. A gentle spring breeze made her pull her thin jacket closer.
Dad—who was never good with scheduling family activities—booked a short cruise, a typical tourist thing. He was with Debbie on the other side of the deck, closer to the wheel. Debbie waved her hands in the air animatedly while they talked. After a while, she turned to go inside the deck, and Dad made his way to Emily.
“Now, if you’ll look to your right,” she began, “over there, you can see the Talmadge Bridge, which we are now approaching…”
“Are you playing a tourist guide with me?”
“A riverboat cruise, Dad? You were asking for it.” And she was used to playing a guide for Will. Not that she could explain that.
Dad smiled, keeping his hands busy by picking at a scratch in the lacquered blue handrail. “I brought you something.” He pulled a copper coin out of his pocket. He tossed it once in the air and offered it to her.
The heads depicted a man sitting on a log. “Penny for my thoughts?” she tried.
“No.” He laughed. “I thought it would serve you as a lucky charm.”
“Is it lucky?”
“I don’t know. I just got it. But it’s a special edition—that’s Lincoln. These were made for the 200th anniversary of his birth. With you and Debbie going to the history competition, I thought it would be appropriate. You’ll just have to share it.”
“Right. Thanks, Dad.”
“I’m terrible with gifts, aren’t I?”
“You’ve thought about it.” She winked at him. “I hope the luck doesn’t go away if it keeps switching between her and me.”
At least he’d tried. Choosing gifts for relatively estranged family members had to be hard; most of the time, she struggled with what to get Nicky, because she couldn’t possibly go with cosmetics again. And as simple—and strange—as this was, he’d put thought into it. He was trying to make amends. Be honest. And here she was, still covering up so much…
In a flash of decision, she reached for the inner pocket of her jacket and brought out the watch, leaving it in her outstretched palm for Dad to notice. “I’m sorry.”
“That is—you didn’t—”
“I couldn’t. I know you said it brings nothing but misfortune, but I couldn’t destroy it.”
“Have you been using it?”
“From time to time. Nothing special.” She swallowed. It still didn’t feel good—she wasn’t coming clean with all of it. “Do you know anything more about these people, Dad? Did you know some had different abilities—enhanced, you could say—and they called them—”
“Leaders. Yes. Lincoln”—he gestured to the coin—“He was one of them. The last one, in fact.”
“And I’m one, too,” she whispered. His head whipped to look at her, eyes wide. “I’ve been to the past, like, proper past. Beyond my lifetime.”
“Jesus, Emily. If you didn’t have the ability, that could’ve killed you.”
“I know. But I have, and maybe it was meant to be this way.” Will once told her the Watchers were meant to observe and learn. Not change history—change their actions in the future.
What had she observed from her past?
“I love you, Dad,” she said. “And I loved Mama, too, and I’m so sorry for what happened to us, to her—”
Dad squeezed her into an embrace. “It’s all right. What’s done is done. We’re still a family. Even if a strange one. I promise I’ll do everything you need me to from now on.”
Family.
“Thanks, Dad,” she mumbled into his jacket.
“Ah, we’re almost to the bridge.” Debbie walked up to them. “Did you know—”
“There goes the guiding again,” Dad said, with a clear trace of humor in his voice. “I don’t need to know of any bridges. Why don’t you two tell me more about these Summer Games, huh?”
“By the way, Dad got us this.” Emily flung the coin to Debbie. “It’s a lucky charm for the competition.”
Debbie looked at Dad. “Won’t it lose luck if it passes hands?”
Emily spread her arms. “That’s exactly what I said!”
Dad laughed, and together, they all leaned on the railing in a neat line. Emily looked at the other two, both lending their faces to the wind. Her little family.
Now she only needed to save the rest of it.