Page 123 of Timeless

“Yes, he did. I helped him, actually,” the woman replied proudly.

“You helped him?” Quinn asked.

“I was about thirteen then, I think. He’d just bought the shop, even though my mother’s family didn’t want him to. He was supposed to take over the family’s butcher shop. That’s how my father and mother met. He was a farmer. She’d been in the shop one day when he was dropping off… well, let’s just say meat because, even though I worked that farm, I still liked to give the animals names, so I was terrible at those things. Anyway, they met, got married, and had me and then, my younger sister. My uncle was my mother’s brother. He didn’t want the butcher shop, so even back then, she ended up taking it over, and my uncle bought this place. He later sold it to you, and since his passing, I’ve kept an eye on it whenever I’m in town. I helped paint the window, after all. My mother painted our height charts back there on the wall with the window, my sister’s and I, so this place is important to me.”

“It’s important tome, too,” Quinn replied. “We were just talking about maybe painting the window again to help bring in more customers.”

“Yes, you should do that. It would help. We used red and brown paint, if I remember correctly, which I do, of course. I’d had chocolate ice cream that day before I ran over to help him paint, and he said the brown paint would match the chocolate I’d gotten on my dress if I got any on me.”

“Ice cream?” Abby uttered and took a step back as if she might fall over.

“Are you okay?” Quinn asked and held on to her. “Babe?”

“You two are a couple?” the woman asked.

“What was your father’s name?” Abby asked.

“My father? Why?”

“Please,” Abby said.

Quinn didn’t take her eyes off her, and it was only because of that that she understood it.

“His name was John Paul, but he went by Paul. Why? Myunclewas the one who owned the shop.”

“Your father was…” Quinn faded out.

She looked at the woman closely for the first time and noticed that she had Deb’s eyes; the eyes from the photos she’d seen of Deb, anyway.

“Paul Stevens. He owned a farm not that far from here. You couldn’t have known him. He died back in 2003. You two look like you weren’t even born then.”

“We were. But no, we didn’t know him,” Quinn replied. “You said you were visiting?”

“The old farmhouse is up for sale. My sister and I got it after our mother passed last year. She was a little younger than my father and definitely healthier. He loved all the food that was bad for him.” She chuckled, seemingly at a memory. “We were going to keep it, but it’s too much trouble, so we came to take care of a few things with the realtor and see if we can get it sold sooner rather than later. I’m a teacher, but I’m about to retire, and I’d like to take my share and do some traveling with my husband.”

“Do you have any children?” Abby asked her.

“I havegrandchildren, dear.” She chuckled. “I’m sixty-three years old. I have a daughter and two sons. They all have kids, too. I’m a grandma of six. Why? Would you like to see pictures?”

“Yes, actually, we would,” Abby said.

“Is something wrong with her? She looks like she’s seen a ghost.”

“Something like that,” Quinn replied. “Do you have any photos on you?”

“Yes, on my phone. I’m not so old that I have a photo album in my purse.” She pulled her phone out of her bag. “I might have a few with my uncle in them.”

“That’s all right. Do you have any with your immediate family? Your father, maybe?” Abby asked.

“You two are strange, but you’re lucky. I’m killing time until I meet my sister for lunch.” She opened her photos and seemed to search before she passed her phone to Quinn. “My oldest grandson put a whole folder on there for me for Christmas last year. You can look through that one.”

“Thank you. Abs, do you want to sit down?”

“I’m okay,” Abby replied.

Quinn took in the first photo. It was of the woman in front of them and her six grandkids; four girls and two boys. Quinn’s eyes welled with tears then. Those were Harriet and Deb’s great-great-grandchildren. Abby rested her head on Quinn’s shoulder and looked along with her. Quinn flipped to the next photo.

“It’s…” Abby whispered.