Chapter 39
“What did you do?” Casey asked, aghast. The cosmetics and perfume counters had been pushed to the sides of the department and stacked up against the walls, and the expanse of floor was now an ice rink.
Margo hurtled past her, stickhandling an ice hockey puck and showering Casey with ice shavings kicked up as she took the corner on her skates. “Getting some exercise!” she called. “I have to do something when you’re not here. Want to join me?”
“No! I want you to not flood the store.”
“Oh, loosen up, no floorboard or antiaging serum will be harmed in the enjoyment of this ice rink.”
Casey looked around her doubtfully as Margo did another lap.
“I’ve been doing some research,” the spirit called, performing a double axel and landing it perfectly before the puck had even slowed down. “Your radio show hit one million views at four thirty this afternoon. ‘I don’t have foot fungus’ is now its own meme.”
Casey managed to muster a “Blimey!” but her heart wasn’t really in it.
“I have to say, I’d expected a bit more enthusiasm,” Margo trilled as she speed-skated figure eights around the rink.
“I broke up with Ajay,” Casey replied, feeling too dejected to even bother crying. She’d barely slept. She’d avoided her brother and the kids and she’d ignored Nigel’s calls and messages.
“Goodness, whatever happened?”
She tried to sound nonchalant as she explained that “his ex showed up.” But she wasn’t fooling anyone.
“They got back together,” said Margo knowingly.
“No. Not that.”
“They had one last shag for old time’s sake?” she guessed again, poking her forefinger through a hole made by the forefinger and thumb on her other hand.
“For god’s sake! No! They did not have one last shag.”
“What, then?” Margo called exasperatedly as she spun on the ice so fast that Casey felt dizzy just watching her.
She harrumphed and said quietly, in the hopes that Margo might not hear, “He put his hand on her hand and then I broke up with him.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Margo stopped spinning and regarded her with a perplexed expression.
“The hand isn’t the issue,” she huffed. “It was that I’d known all along that something would eventually mess it all up.
I’d expected it. That whole time I was happy I was only waiting for the other shoe to drop.
How can I be in a relationship if I’m always waiting for it to end?
He’s better off without me. Now he can meet someone who isn’t screwed up in the head. ” She felt wretched.
“You do realize that you’re a walking, talking, self-fulfilling prophecy, right?”
Casey sighed and flopped against one of the counters that had been relocated for the ice rink. “I know. I’m an idiot. I panicked and made a mistake and I will probably regret forever. I’m ready to have the meme erased now.”
“There are still three days until Christmas, and I’m not erasing anything until you’ve had your final glimpse, young lady. You know the rules.”
She huffed. “Oh, geez. Fine! Show me now. Let’s just get it over with. It can’t be any worse than my actual life.”
Margo laughed. “Of course it can!”
The spirit shot past her twice more, picking up speed each time until she was practically a green blur. As she came by for a third time, she yelled, “Buckle up, sugar tits!” and swung the hockey stick back before bringing it down hard behind Casey’s knees, sweeping her feet clean off the floor.
The room tilted as she spun through the air, and she closed her eyes tightly until she landed with a thump in an armchair, amid the smell of roasted coffee beans and grilled cheese toasties and the sounds of many animated voices all speaking at once.
Low-level Christmas music was playing in the background.
She opened her eyes and gasped. “I know this place! This is where I used to work.”
“In this timeline you still do,” Margo said, lifting a glass dome on the counter to take a chocolate cupcake.
She sat up straighter and looked around her.
The café was decked out for Christmas with a decorated tree in one corner and a festive mural of woodland creatures frolicking in the snow painted across the windows.
Fresh foliage garlands lay across the shelves of the old pine dresser, and the place was packed with customers enjoying some respite from last-minute shopping and catching up with friends before Christmas.
Behind the counter, Other Casey laughed at something her waiting customer had said, as she prepared their takeaway coffee.
She looked so happy, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the coffee machine, her hair cut short but not dyed dark.
A menu on one of the tables caught her eye, and Casey picked it up.
When she’d worked here, the café had been called Ursula’s, but now the menu read Nigel’s.
She held it out to Margo with a questioning look.
“Ah, yes,” Margo responded around a mouthful of cake. “In this timeline Nigel hurt his back ten years ago in a scuffle at work and had to give up the security malarkey. When this place came on the market, he bought it. You were the first person he employed, and you’ve run it together ever since.”
Relief settled within her at the knowledge that Nigel was still a part of her life.
The bell above the door dinged, and Vern came in balancing three Tupperware cake boxes.
“Sorry I’m late, darlings!” he called over as customers moved bags and shifted chairs to allow him a clear path.
“The goats got into the kitchen and started eating the tree. They’ve got a thing for pine needles apparently. ”
Other Casey laughed and, with the help of one of the waitresses, relieved Vern of his cakes and began to plate them up for the chiller.
Customers craned their necks to see the new additions.
Nigel came out wearing a striped apron and carrying two toasted ciabattas.
“Hello love,” he called to Vern, handing the plates to the waiting waitress. “Table four, please, Tabbitha.”
The waitress smiled and went on her way.
Nigel wiped his hands on his apron and asked, “Any luck with the extra turkey?”
“All in hand,” said Vern. “Bill’s going to deliver it on the twenty-third.”
“You really didn’t need to worry,” said Other Casey. “Tanzie and Jared wouldn’t expect you to buy in extra food just for them…”
Casey’s ears pricked up at hearing their names. If Tanzie and Jared were invited to Christmas dinner, then that meant…
The door jangled again, and Ajay strode in wearing his police uniform.
Casey’s heart leaped. She was struck anew by how dear he was, with his dark cropped hair and neat beard and kind eyes.
How could she have been such a fool to tell him that it was over?
Idiot! A sigh of longing escaped her, and Margo gave her a knowing look.
One or two customers raised their eyebrows at the police officer, but most waved in a way that suggested he was a common fixture at the café.
He saw Other Casey and smiled, making a beeline for her.
When he reached her, he kissed her tenderly on the lips, and Casey felt a pang of jealousy toward her other self.
She’d been so afraid of an ending that hadn’t been written yet that she’d scrapped her story with Ajay at the first chapter.
There was no way to undo the meme without the aid of spiritual meddling, but she could make things right with Ajay on her own and she made a vow to do so as soon as she returned from this glimpse.
“Well?” the Ajay in this timeline asked. “Did you open it? I’ve had Nate messaging me all day asking me for news!”
While Casey breathed yet another sigh of relief to know that her brother was alive in this glimpse, Other Casey looked up at Ajay with wide eyes and squeaked, “Not yet. I can’t seem to make myself.”
He shook his head, laughing.
“What’s this?” asked Nigel. “Did you hear back from the literary agent?”
She nodded.
“Is this the first you’ve heard since you sent back the rewrites she asked for?” Vern asked, and Casey nodded again.
“Right, you two,” said Nigel. “Go out back and open that email. Vern can take over coffees for ten minutes.”
“Aye, aye, captain!” said Vern.
Other Casey reached for Ajay’s hand and led him out of the café—Casey and Margo following behind—down a short corridor, past the kitchen, and out into a pretty courtyard full of plant tubs white with frost and wrought-iron tables and chairs.
“Wow,” Casey exclaimed. “This used to be a dumping ground. Nigel really turned it around.”
“He had a lot of help,” said Margo knowingly. “Sylvie and Ken come down once a week with Conner and Ellory to do the weeding.”
There were no customers in the garden, probably because it was bitterly cold and had begun to snow. Ajay brushed the snow off a chair and Other Casey sat down, then he did the same for himself. Other Casey clutched her phone.
“Okay, open it now,” said Ajay, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “And whatever happens, remember you got this far, that’s a huge achievement.
And now that you’ve done it once, even if it doesn’t pan out with this agent, you know you can do it.
Whatever way this goes, it isn’t the end for your writing, okay? ”
She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.
“Okay,” she said, looking down at her phone, and with a trembling finger she opened the message from the literary agency.
Casey found herself holding her breath too.
She followed her counterpart’s eyes as they moved back and forth over the text.
After what seemed like an age, Other Casey looked up at Ajay.
“She’s offered to represent me,” she said in a whisper, her eyes glistening.
A broad smile bloomed across Ajay’s face. “Of course she has!” He leaned over and kissed her. “You’re amazing.” He held her face in his hands and kissed her again and Casey closed her eyes, remembering how his hands felt against her cheeks. “I’m so proud of you,” he said.
The back door flew open, and Nigel and Vern stepped out into the courtyard followed by Nate and Hot Penny. “Well?” Nigel asked.
Other Casey laughed and stood up, Ajay beside her. “I’ve got an agent!” she shouted, waving her phone in the air before she was engulfed in the enthusiastic embraces of her family.