Page 10 of Chasing Eternity
Mark slaps my dad on the back, but my dad merely nods in return.
“And you have a real aptitude for numbers.” She presses her index finger against a soft, curving line, as though she gleaned the information from there, as opposed to the file of my family history that she pretty much memorized. “You’re considering a career as an accountant, mainly because it seems stable enough. But you’re also a bit of an adventurer at heart, so you worry about getting stuck in one place for too long.”
She looks to him for confirmation, only to find my dad’s brow is furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin, grim line.
Elodie goes on about a possible move to California, followed by marriage, and kids, or rather,a kid. “Just the one, and most likely, a girl.” She draws a finger over a short line at the side of his hand. Then finally, mercifully, releasing him, she adds, “You know what’s weird, though? You look like you could be related to my friend Natasha, here. Your eyes are the same shade of green. Same shape, too. Is it possible you’re family? Distant cousins, long-lost siblings separated at birth?”
All eyes pivot my way, as if they’ve just now become aware of my existence. And though I’m used to being eclipsed by Elodie, when my dad shifts his focus to me, and his gaze locks onto mine, it’s like all the oxygen is sucked out of the room, and I find myself longing for the comfort of being invisible again.
But that’s only because I’m afraid of what happens next. There’s so much riding on this moment—not just for me, but for time itself. And though I’ve rehearsed this reunion in my head a thousand times since I first dreamed up the plan, I guess I always fast-forwarded to the part where we we’re both hugging and crying, so overcome with emotion for all that we’ve lost, and all that we still stand to gain, in the brief time we have left.
What I failed to imagine was everything that would happen leading up to that point. Especially the most important part when I break the news—Surprise! I’m your daughter from the future!—which I know I can’t exactly say, but I’m so nervous, there’s no telling what might pop out of my mouth.
From some distant place, I vaguely register one of my dad’s friends saying, “Wow. The resemblance truly is…uncanny.”
But in the liminal space I currently occupy, it feels like the world around me has gone dark, leaving only a single point of light that encompasses both me and my dad.
Tell him. Seize the moment, and do it, already. There is literally no time to waste!
I continue to gaze at my dad, wishing there was some way to convey it all with a look, since I’ve failed to come up with the appropriate words.
The silence is broken by the sound of Elodie clearing her throat, making me realize just how weirdly uncomfortable this probably is for everyone else.
Though I also know that, in her own, also weirdly uncomfortable way, Elodie has unlocked the door, and now it’s on me to kick it wide open and get what I came for.
And yet, I can’t exactly tell him with everyone watching. I need to find a way to get him alone, go someplace quiet where the two of us can talk. And then I’ll—
“Natasha?”
The sound of my dad saying my name is enough to send a ripple of shivers skipping like stones down the length of my spine.
It’s been ten long years since I heard his voice.
Ten long years since he was the single most important person in my world.
“You’re bleeding.” He gestures toward the arm I’d been unconsciously rubbing that’s now streaked with red.
Between that, the pink stain trailing down the front of my shirt, and my belly button and hip bones on full display, what a stellar first impression I must make.
“Oh, um…” I swallow hard, forcing myself to play it cool. “It’s nothing. Just…not a big deal.”
“May I take a look?” he asks.
With my heart hammering wildly, I bite down on my lip and offer my hand, half expecting him to distract me with a song or a story as he tends to the wound, just like he did when I was a kid.
“You should get this cleaned up,” he says, eyes narrowed as though weighing this strange situation he finds himself in. “You don’t want it to get infected.”
I swallow hard, sneak a quick peek at Elodie who’s now reading Mark’s palm, advising him to buy stock in Google, Apple, and a little start-up called Netflix, then I return to my dad.
“Um, yeah.” I shrug. “We don’t want that.” I try to laugh, but my throat is so raw, it comes out sounding like a record scratch.
“It really is remarkable.” His gaze lingers on me, contemplative and intense. “There’s something so familiar about you. Something that goes beyond the eyes.”
I bite my bottom lip so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if I start bleeding there, too.
“Maybe we are related.” He laughs nervously. “What’s your last name?”
I take a deep breath, and with my voice lowered to nearly a whisper, I say, “Clarke. My name is Natasha Antoinette Clarke.”