Twenty-Eight November 2, 2023
THE HALLOWEEN decorations are still in Zander’s yard.
The headstones and constellations carved into sagging pumpkins; the reclining bride and groom skeletons, their ghosts dancing a slow dance in the apple trees above.
Elsie, standing under Zander’s portico, tugs at the hem of her sweater, the thread dangling there, as she glances back at her sister, who waits in the car.
Bailey gives her the thumbs-up, encouraging her.
At Elsie’s request, she and Bailey left the Victoria airport and drove straight here.
Liz was correct in her prediction, her memory.
On arriving home from her time-travelling trip, she would stop in on Zander.
Or perhaps she’s here because Liz slid the suggestion into her mind, as she would a coin into the slot of a vending machine.
Over the past month, since she found that atlas, Elsie’s understanding of the relationship between cause and effect has become increasingly fuzzy.
Either way, she needs to take care of this now, before she loses her nerve. She knocks.
There’s the pad of footsteps down the hall, a moment’s hesitation on the other side of the door.
“Hey,” she says as Zander finally opens it, partway.
“Hey.”
“Are you busy with a client?” she asks him.
“No. I was just about to make a fresh pot of coffee.” He nods at the car, her sister. “Did you and Bailey want to come in?” He’s using that voice again, that persona he wears with clients. Polite, but distant.
Elsie shakes her head. “We have to pick up Dad from the hospital. But we’re having a barbeque tomorrow night at Bailey’s, to celebrate Dad’s release, if you want to come.
I’ll be opening the atlas to the tenth house.
” To the page titled “The Tenth House: Career.” The location on the chart’s map is not her father’s office, as she might expect, but Bailey’s rental.
Zander crosses his arms as if cold. “Is that why you came here? To ask me to a barbeque?”
“No,” she says. “I came to apologize.” She tugs and tugs at the string on her sweater, unravelling it. “When Marcus turned up at my place, I should have sent him home. But he was drunk and fell asleep on my bed. His girlfriend kicked him out. That’s the truth.”
Zander stares past her at the ghost couple in the trees. “It’s none of my business.”
“Of course it is. We have the start of something here, Zander. Something really good.” She glances back at her sister in the car and lowers her voice. “You need to know I have no interest in Marcus.” Anymore.
Zander turns those golden eyes back on her. “But that’s not really the issue, is it? You saw our future together, or some part of it, and it scared you.”
Elsie nods as she looks down at the cracked concrete under her feet, the tiny world of ants and weeds hidden there.
Zander opens the door further, leaning his head against it.
“But I get it. Of course you would think of calling it off. When I first got my diagnosis, I was terrified. I watched my grandmother lose her mobility. I cared for her as she went through it. And honestly, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
It’s a huge thing to take on.” Zander sinks his trembling hand into his pocket.
“But Elsie, I have Parkinson’s. I’m not the disease.
I may have to walk with a cane down the road, but I’ll still be me.
And that’s at least a decade away, maybe more. ”
“I know. It wasn’t that.” Or not only that. “It’s—” She rolls a hand. “I wasn’t sure I was up to the task, you know? Helping you. Or my dad. I’m scared I’ll screw up somehow, that I won’t have what it takes to cope.”
“I’m not asking you to be my nurse, Elsie. I’m not asking for anything, other than to spend time with you.”
Elsie claps her hands together. “Here’s the thing. When my mom died, I got really sick. Depressed. It was terrible, like horrific. I literally lost myself. Everything hurt. I couldn’t function.”
Zander opens the door all the way. “You’re afraid you’ll have another depressive episode.”
“I know I will, when I’m with you.”
He lifts his chin. “Are you saying I’m responsible? My illness is responsible?”
“It looks like I’ll struggle again when you start to lose your mobility. I think that’s one of the reasons I ran the other night. I wasn’t sure I could go through that again.”
“And now?”
She reaches for the tips of his fingers. “I know we won’t have to go through it alone. We’ll get help. It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”
“All that’s a long way off too, right?”
“Yes.”
He takes both her hands and bows his head to get her to look at him. “So how about we take the pressure off, for now. Let’s pretend you never saw the future and we don’t know what’s going to happen. Because we don’t, really, do we?”
“No.” She’s only seen snippets of her future, not the whole story.
“Maybe we can just enjoy ourselves right now?”
“Sounds good to me.” After glancing at her sister still waiting in the car, she rocks onto her toes. “So where do you suggest we begin? I mean, in enjoying ourselves.”
“Well, I don’t know.” His eyes light up. “What do you suggest?”
She reads his face, his eyes searching hers, then tentatively leans in for a short kiss. She pulls back, gauging his reaction. “How’s that for a start?” she asks.
In answer, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her much longer, with much more passion, pulling her close. At the end of their kiss, Zander smiles again. “It’s a start,” he says.