Timebound (31 page)

I was stung, and yet I couldn’t help but feel that there was some truth in those words. I myself had questioned why Trey would be interested in me—he was handsome, smart, funny… and I was just me, just
Kate.
“I know,” I said, looking down into my teacup. “He’s really great, and I’m sure there are lots of other girls who—”

Katherine reached over and grabbed my hand. “Oh no, sweetie. No, no, no.” Tears had risen to her eyes. “That’s definitely not what I meant. There is every reason in the world for that young man to be interested in you. You are beautiful, intelligent, witty—why
wouldn’t
he want to be with you?” She shook her head and smiled at me. “It’s true that you may lack self-confidence, but… I seem to remember that being a rather common problem at age sixteen—excuse me,
seventeen.
”

“Then why did you say…?”

“I don’t think you’ve been thinking this through clearly. I agreed to allow Trey to spend time with you because you were right—you needed a friend. I was so worried you would slip into depression with Deborah and Harry no longer… in your life.” She paused. “But if you manage to fix this timeline, your parents will be back and we’ll be returning to life as it was before. Trey—well, he won’t be at Briar Hill, based on what you’ve said. He took your slot at the school, correct? Trey is not going to remember any of this. He won’t remember
you,
Kate.”

I thought back to Trey’s comment our first night on the porch—that I could just toss a sock or an earring on the ground, and he’d
believe everything again. That might have been a good remedy several weeks ago when we had spent only a day together. But now? I would remember all of our time together and Trey wouldn’t. Even if I did find a way to meet him again, it wouldn’t be the same. That idea hurt a whole lot more now than it had at the beginning.

“Why can’t he just be here when I make the jump?” I asked. “Like he was when I did the test jump? He’d be protected then, just like Connor and you are—and he’d remember, right?”

“Yes,” Katherine answered. “He would remember. But I cannot allow that, Kate, for two reasons. First, it is a violation of CHRONOS rules—” She held up her hand as I began to object. “Please let me finish. It is a violation of CHRONOS rules to disrupt the timeline in that fashion. We are trying to repair the damage that Saul created and I cannot condone changing the timeline simply because you’ve allowed yourself to become so attached to Trey.”

I narrowed my eyes. Katherine made it sound like Trey was a stray cat. “You said there were
two
reasons?” I asked, keeping my voice level.

Katherine nodded. “If you really do care about this boy, then you will understand my second point—even if you don’t agree with the first one. Trey will eventually have to leave this house and when he does, he will have two entirely different sets of memories to reconcile. That’s hard enough for those of us who have the CHRONOS gene,” Katherine said, shaking her head slowly. “You said it was disorienting when he saw the picture of your father disappear. That was a few small memories that didn’t coincide. Do you really want to subject him to that on a much, much larger scale? There would be thousands of points of disconnect—Connor and I really don’t know what effect it might have on the boy. There could easily be a risk of permanent mental damage.”

My heart sank. I hadn’t thought at all about the possible impact on Trey.

“I’m not saying that you should end your friendship with Trey immediately, Kate. You still have a few days. Just enjoy the relationship for what it is—for what it has to be. Otherwise, you’re going to end up much sadder than you need to be when it ends. Because it
will
have to end.”

16

Despite my best efforts to replicate the sleek and sophisticated updo that was described step-by-step in the September 1893 edition of
The Delineator,
my hair was still down. I was used to tucking my hair up in a knot for school, but that was apparently too simple for women in the 1890s. The style required several side braids tucked into complicated loops of hair, all of it held into place by combs and heaven knows what else to form a gravity-defying swoop. I eventually gave up in frustration.

From the neck down, however, I was now in costume. The shoes that Katherine had ordered from an online costume house had arrived that afternoon, a few hours after the dress and undergarments were delivered from the seamstress. I helped Connor and Katherine slip tiny silver receivers of some sort into the fabric of the dress, the undergarments, and the boots to make sure they didn’t disappear if I took them off. The receivers amplified the CHRONOS field—a setup similar to what Connor had rigged for the house but on a much smaller scale. This finally solved a question that had been bugging me for weeks. What was to stop a historian from snagging a Picasso sketch or stuffing her bag full of gold to bring back with her? It wasn’t just respect for CHRONOS rules and regs. She wouldn’t be able to sell the items because she’d be caught as soon as the stolen object left the protection of a
medallion and the new purchaser discovered he or she held nothing but an empty bag.

The boots were made of a soft white leather. Katherine said they were kidskin, which I’m pretty sure means baby goat, and I tried not to think about that as I slipped them on. They fit okay, but it took forever to connect all of the buttons, even after Connor improvised a buttonhook.

And then there were the buttons on the
back
of the dress. “I could save everyone a great deal of agony,” I remarked, “if I just sneaked some Velcro into one of the invention exhibits.” Based on the books I’d been reading, everything from the automatic dishwasher to Juicy Fruit gum was being displayed to the visitors at the Exposition. “I could just slip a package to that guy at the fair who was demonstrating the first zipper—I’m sure he’d be delighted at the upgrade.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Don’t let Katherine hear you talking like that. She’ll be convinced that you’re too much like your grandfather to trust on a CHRONOS mission.” His lip twitched slightly, as if he was repressing a smile. “History is sacred—like a nature hike. ‘Leave only footprints, take only memories.’” His voice sounded like a cross between Katherine and a tour guide at a museum.

The doorbell and Daphne simultaneously announced Trey’s arrival, just as I was starting on the buttons on the second shoe. When I finished, I left the library—a bit shaky on the unusually shaped heels—and began, very carefully, to descend the staircase. Trey was already seated on the couch, reading through his British literature assignment.

His face lit up when he saw me. “Well, good afternoon, Miss Scarlett.”

I glanced down at the dress. The fabric was green silk, so I could see the comparison. The color was more vivid and closer to a dark emerald green, however, than the dress that Scarlett had
created from recycled curtains in
Gone with the Wind.
The cut was narrower, too—and I was very glad of that fact, since it meant fewer hot, sticky crinolines. The bodice was fitted, with a square neck and sleeves that were puffed above my elbow and snug to the arm below, with ivory lace trim.

“You’re about four decades off, Mr. Coleman,” I replied in my very best Deep South drawl, holding a pretend fan to my face. “But flattery will get you everywhere.”

He met me at the foot of the stairs. “Seriously, Kate, you look beautiful. The dress really brings out the color of your eyes.” He glanced down at his school-mandated khakis. “I feel way underdressed for the prom.”

Prom. Another reminder of the world outside, where it was now approaching the end of the school year. Trey had mentioned finals a few times, but I hadn’t even thought about the junior prom. I’d studiously avoided all school dances in the past, but with Trey, it might not have been so bad to dress up and dance under twinkle lights and crepe paper. “Briar Hill’s prom…,” I began.

“Was last Saturday,” Trey finished.

Last Saturday. The highlight of that evening had been a Scrabble game with the two of us versus Katherine and Connor.

“Don’t even look like that,” he said. “I wasn’t planning on going before I met you, and while I’ll admit that I would have been delighted to go with you, I was much happier here—
with
you—than I would have been there,
without
you.”

I sat down on the edge of the sofa, remembering my recent conversation with Katherine. “Estella and your father probably hate me—you’re spending so much time here. And I made you miss your prom.”

“Which I wasn’t going to
anyway.
Estella was beginning to hate
me
for not bringing you around. She was saying I’m ashamed of her—that she wasn’t cool enough to introduce to my girlfriend—but all is forgiven now that she’s fed you. And Dad just keeps giving
me this little smile and shaking his head.” He laughed. “You know, the oh-to-be-young-and-in-love…” He trailed off, both of us feeling a bit awkward.

“Anyway,” he said, “once you fix the universe—in your Scarlett O’Hara dress—we’ll make up for lost time, okay? You
can
dance, I assume?”

I elbowed him. “
Yes,
I can dance, although I wouldn’t try it in this dress. It’s not for dancing—it’s daytime wear, believe it or not.” I looked down at the ankle-length skirt and the absurd shoes, shaking my head. “It would be a lot easier to fix the universe if I could dress like Wonder Woman—or Batgirl.”

“Ooh—I would love to see
that.
” Trey smiled. “I can definitely picture you as Batgirl, kicking the villain upside the head. But her costume would get you arrested in 1893.”

“Not if I stayed on the Midway,” I replied. “I’d fit right in.” We’d spent the previous afternoon looking through a variety of photographs that were taken at the fair, or, as it was officially called, the 1893 Columbian Exposition. While many of the displays had been staid, proper, and educational, the exhibits that pulled in the
most
money were located in a mile-long strip adjacent to the fair, which was called the Midway Plaisance, and included amusements like the giant Ferris wheel that Katherine had mentioned. Apparently there were other, less family-oriented entertainments as well—the photos included revealing pictures of a belly dancer known as Little Egypt, one of many exotic dancers who had performed to packed houses in the evenings.

“True. You’d fit in on the Midway,” Trey acknowledged. “And I’m sure it would be more fun. But from what you’ve said, Katherine didn’t spend that day at the fair hanging out with the belly dancers. So… when are you going? You’re worried about it, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “Soon. My bonnet still hasn’t arrived.”
Bonnet.
That word was so not in my vocabulary. “I need to go upstairs and
change… I can’t breathe. Katherine needs to loosen this corset next time.”

“Corset?”
Trey laughed.

“Don’t. Even,” I warned. “There are more clothes under this costume than I would normally wear in a week.”

Trey had rented a DVD, a recent Jonah Hill film. I changed into denim shorts and the “Self-Rescuing Princess” T-shirt he had given me for my birthday—rather appropriate, he said, under the circumstances—and then we made a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and some popcorn to munch on while we watched the movie. It was nice to spend a few hours in the twenty-first century, after days of focusing on the 1890s, and I was happy for an excuse to avoid thinking about the upcoming jump and what would come afterward. Maybe Katherine was right—I should just enjoy the time we had left. There was no reason to bring Trey down by discussing the inevitable.

Trey needed to finish an essay on Aldous Huxley for his British lit class, so he left a bit earlier than usual, just before dark. “I’ll be online later,” he said. “You said you’ve read
Brave New World,
right?”

I nodded.

“Good—then you can read the essay when I finish it to see if it makes sense.” He gave me a concerned look. “You’re kind of quiet tonight, babe. Are you tired?”

“A bit,” I said, glancing down at my feet.

“Then maybe it’s a good thing we have to make it an early night.” He gave me a long, deep kiss as we stood on the porch and I watched as he headed down the sidewalk to where his car was parked. “See you tomorrow, okay?”