TimeSlip (13 page)

Strom looked down at the com badge in his hand. He didn’t
know what to say. His dad’s eyes were bright, as if he was going to cry, but
that couldn’t be right—his dad never cried. This was it. There wouldn’t be
another Hallstrom man in uniform to add to his father’s collection of images.
This was the end of the line.

“Dad, I’m…”

Hal patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, son. I’ll take
care of Leona and the Department of Temporal Security. No one will follow you.
Now go, and make sure that you give them a kiss from me.”

Spring 2015

The last of the boxes of artifacts were packed and on their way
to Sotheby’s. She needed the money and it was time the apartment stopped
looking like a museum. Her father would understand. Sometimes you had to move
on and Adam was more interested in the future than the past. He was a clever
little boy, scarily so, and she was having trouble keeping up with his
voracious appetite for knowledge.

Ingrid picked up the postcard and read it again. “Happy
Divorce, Hon” was scrawled on the back in Finn’s flamboyant handwriting.
My
gay ex-husband divorced me in Vegas
. She had laughed out loud when she
found it in the mailbox. It sounded like a bad Jeremy Kyle show.

Chris had turned out to be
the one
after all, and
from Finn’s regular emails, they seemed to be blissfully happy. He rang her and
Adam at least once a week, always trying to persuade her to move out there. But
there were too many memories here in Dublin and she knew that she would never
leave.

The singing chicken alarm clock screamed out tunelessly from
Adam’s bedroom, annoying bloody thing. She had dropped it twice, but it still
refused to die. It was lucky that Adam was crazy about it, otherwise it was
destined for a very nasty accident. Ingrid grabbed her coat. She had just
enough time to go to the shops and collect him from playschool.

* * * * *

Strom took off his com badge and ground it into dust under
his feet. He was never going home again and he had no intention of providing
the temporal geek squad with any further entertainment. Pete had nearly gone
supernova when he’d asked him to bypass the complex security systems that
protected the Central Com, using Leona’s badge and security code. In the end
he’d done it, in return for being best man at Jake’s wedding. That was one
party he would be sorry to miss.

Ingrid’s apartment building loomed up ahead and he suddenly
began to feel nervous. He had burned his bridges in his own time, and all for
the slim possibility that a girl he had spent just seven days with was still in
love with him. The lobby was still the same, but there was a different man
behind the desk. In a few short minutes he would see her again and he still had
to persuade Finn to step aside.

“I’d like to see Mr. O’Leary, please.”

The concierge stared blankly at him for a moment. “I’m
sorry, sir, but Mr. O’Leary moved to America last year.”

She was gone. He couldn’t believe it. Ingrid had moved to
the far side of the ocean, and without a twenty-first-century passport, he had
no way of getting there. Damn and blast. What the hell was he going to do now?

“But Mrs. O’Leary and the boy are still here.” The concierge
leaned toward him. “Between you and me, I think they just got divorced.”

The elevator door chimed as it opened behind him and somehow
Strom knew it was her. The color drained from Ingrid’s face when she saw him
and he rushed across the lobby.

Ingrid felt as if she’d been punched. Even though she
couldn’t see his face at first, it was unmistakably him—the shock of fair hair
and the muscular breadth of his back. Strom was leaning against the desk in the
lobby, chatting to the concierge. She shook her head, trying to clear it as an
intense mixture of shock and excitement flooded through her. Her palm slid
against the smooth surface of the elevator, leaving a damp trail. She couldn’t
seem to breathe. Strom stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the
fifth floor. His large frame seemed to take up most of the space. She had
forgotten how big he was. Dark eyes gazed warily at her, and then everything
went black.

Her eyes flickered open. She was lying on the couch in the
sitting room and her coat was draped over a chair. Strom came into the room and
placed a cold compress against her forehead. The cloth felt cool against her
face. This was real, he was definitely here. He smoothed a tendril of hair away
from her face.

“I’m sorry, Ingrid. I had no way of warning you that I was
coming.”

She had forgotten the rich timbre of his voice. The tiny
inflection in the way he said her name. All of the old feelings rushed through
her as if it was yesterday, the aching, the wanting and the longing for him.
But his expression was still wary, as if he was uncertain. Strom hadn’t yet
said why he had returned or how long he was staying, and after four years
apart, they were almost strangers.

She struggled to sit up. “You got my message about Adam?”

Strom nodded. “I found out yesterday. My son, is he here?”

Her heart fell. Strom had come back for Adam, not for her.
“Adam’s at playschool, I have to collect him soon.” Ingrid tried to smile and
failed miserably.

Oh god, how long had she been unconscious? Adam would be waiting
for her. She stood up quickly and the room reeled. Strom reached for her and
she leaned dizzily against him. For a brief moment she closed her eyes. She was
in his arms again. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest against her
face and her heart filled up. She had missed him. She had missed her viking so
much. All the nights she had lain awake hoping for his return, all the silly
daydreams that he would come back for her, suddenly turned to ashes. How could
she let him do this to her? How could she bear it if he loved her and left her
again?

Ingrid inhaled deeply, catching his scent, and stepped away,
trying to put some distance between them. She bit her lip trying not to cry.
How long would they have this time—a week, perhaps two if they were lucky. Even
if Strom no longer loved her, she would do this for Adam. He deserved to meet
his father.

“It was good of you to come. Adam is a clever little boy.
There are times when I can hardly keep up with him.”

She was amazed that her voice sounded so calm, but she
couldn’t meet Strom’s eyes. If she did, then she might just break down and sob
all over him. “I’ve told him about you,” she continued. “He knows that Finn
isn’t his father.”

Ingrid watched as a pulse hammered at Strom’s throat. “What
did you tell him?”

“I told Adam that you were a sailor. That you sailed amongst
the stars, and even though you couldn’t be with us, that you loved him very
much.”

Ingrid’s voice caught in her throat and somehow that gave
him hope. The last few minutes had been more terrifying than any battle he had
ever experienced. This new Ingrid was cool and reserved and she couldn’t bear
him to touch her. He had to find a way to break through the barriers that the
years apart had placed between them. A glint of pale metal caught his eye and
Strom grabbed her hand.

“Look at me, Ingrid. You still wear my ring. You’ve borne me
a son. You can’t pretend that you don’t feel anything for me.”

He pressed her fingers against his lips. “I love you,
Ingrid. There wasn’t a night that I didn’t miss you or want you and I regret
every single day that we spent apart.”

Tears streamed down her face. Strom bent his head, kissing
the tears as they fell. His mouth found hers and her lips yielded softly. His
kiss was slow and sweet and tender. Her arms slid up his chest and curved
around his neck, drawing him to her as if she couldn’t get close enough.
Strom’s fingers threaded through her hair, holding her prisoner as his tongue
gently probed her mouth open.

Ingrid’s soft moan of surrender set him on fire. Lifting her
into his arms, he carried her to the bedroom and dropped her on the bed. “How
long have we got?” he asked, nipping against the soft skin of her neck.

Ingrid wriggled away from his eager hands. “Not long enough.
We have a son to collect from school, remember?”

Pressing a last teasing kiss against his mouth, she rolled
off the bed and offered him her hand. Strom experienced a brief flash of déjà
vu. The dress she was wearing, he hadn’t noticed it at first, but now he knew
where he had seen it before. It was the same dress she had worn in the
photograph the first time he saw her, and then he knew. There was one last
thing he had to do, one last piece of the temporal puzzle that remained to be
put into place.

“Do you have a camera, Ingrid?”

She nodded, bewildered for a moment, and then went to fetch
it.

They walked hand in hand to the playschool to collect his
son. In a tiny florist’s shop, Strom bought her a single long-stemmed red rose
and she carried it proudly.

Along with the other parents, they waited in the garden
outside the school. Strom pointed the camera at Ingrid and took the picture. A
smiling girl in a garden, carrying a single rose. Her long, dark hair fell
around her shoulders in waves. She was utterly different from the females of the
world he used to live in. She was slender and delicate and she wore an unusual
ring. Two wolf heads intertwined, their eyes set with tiny Cerulian rubies.

Strom put his arms around her and she rested her head
against his shoulder. The school door opened and the children emerged into the
sunshine. He bent his head and kissed her cheek.

“You were wrong about the stars, Ingrid. You outshine them
all.”

Ingrid waved when a small blond boy raced through the open
doorway. She squeezed Strom’s hand. “Let me speak to him first.”

He watched as she crouched in front of his son, listening to
the boy’s excited chatter. His stomach clenched in a mixture of excitement and
dread. He remembered his own father returning home after a long mission in deep
space, standing nervously behind his mother while he waited to be noticed by a
man who was almost a stranger to him. He didn’t want that for his son.

When Ingrid pointed her finger, Adam’s head turned. Dark
eyes gazed solemnly at him out of a pale face—a tiny mirror of his own. Strom
crouched down and watched as Adam walked slowly toward him. He wanted to reach
out, to sweep him up in his arms, but the patience he had learned from a
hundred battles cautioned him. He couldn’t rush this. Adam had to make the
first move.

Finally, they were face to face, a silent oasis in a crowd
of excited children. Adam reached into his backpack and produced a small toy.

“My rocket,” he announced proudly, as he handed it over for
inspection.

Strom’s eyes filled with tears. Ingrid had told him that
this was Adam’s most prized possession. The yellow plastic model was an old
Challenger shuttle, one of the earliest spaceships. The real thing would barely
make it to the moon and back.

“It’s a very fine rocket,” he agreed, trying to quell the
shaking in his voice.

“One day I’m going to make a real one. Won’t I, Mommy?”

Ingrid ruffled Adam’s blond curls. “Of course you will.”

Adam’s hand curved around Strom’s fingers. “And my Daddy can
help.”

A fierce rush of pride raced through him as he swept his son
up in his arms. He had burned his bridges in his own time, but he had new ones
to build here. He had a son who would grow up to change the world and travel to
the stars as he once had, and a wife whose love would make his life complete.
The last of his doubts evaporated as he reached for Ingrid, wrapping his family
in his arms. He ignored the stares of the other parents, pressing a rough kiss
against her mouth while Adam giggled.

“Come on, let’s go home.”