Page 59 of Timeless
“Then, I’m alsosmellingthings that don’t exist here. I can’t handle all of it. I’m actually mad at you for leaving me at home at our farmhouse with our son to join WorldWarII. Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”
“Yes, I do, actually, because I’m standing right here thinking about how good it felt to come home to you afterit, to see you running toward me when I’d been so worried you wouldn’t want me back after what I did. I can still smell honeysuckle, Abby.”
“I do not smell like honeysuckle!” she said loudly. “I’mnother. And you’re not Harriet Louise Topper. We’re not best friends turned lovers turned wives, with a son and a farm to run, who die in a tornado. What the hell kind of ending is that? I gave them a better ending. They were in each other’s arms, still young and madly in love, talking about eternity together. They didn’t get that;anyof that. They–”
“But yes, they did,” Quinn argued. “They might have died in that life, but they found each other again.”
“What? Us?”
“No, it can’t be us. I think it had to be when they died, another two women were born or somehow became them. I don’t know how it works, exactly, obviously. Maybe those women just died a year ago, and that’s why you moved back, and me moving here was just them getting us ready for them. Maybe it was five years ago when I moved here. I don’t know. Maybe I was born with Harriet in me already, or maybe the day I visited this town, another Harriet died, and I got the memories. I have no idea. All I do know is that, as messed up as this is and as scared as I am, I still think that we need to acknowledge this and talk about it.”
“I can’t. Not today, Quinn. Not when I’m processing everything we just discovered. I need some time.”
“How much?”
“Does it even matter? According to you and these damn visions, we’ll just meet up in another life, anyway. So, why not just skip this one? We’ll find each other again, won’t we?”
“Skip this one?” Quinn looked hurt as she leaned back against the pack-and-ship counter behind her.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you just feel like the Earth tilted a little when you said that?”
“No,” Abby revealed. “But I was the one who said it, so…”
“You need time, Abby. I get that. This isn’t actually how I thought my life would go, either. But maybe itissupposed to be this way. When I’m with you, I feel…”
“How do you know that’s not just Harriet having feelings for Deb? You don’t even know me. I’m Abby. I’m not her. I’ve had my own life. I didn’t grow up in the early 1900s. I don’t have a son. I’m not even sure I want kids. I don’t think I do. I guess I could be convinced, but I’m not even sure I want to get married. All I know is that I like women, not men, and I want one person for the rest of my life, if I can find her. That’s it.”
“What if you already have?” Quinn asked.
“I can’t, Quinn. Not right now. I’ll…” She pointed to the food behind Quinn. “Feel free to eat all of that. I’m not hungry anymore. I need to go home to shower and change and then try not to think about the fact that I have all these voices in my head right now, trying to tell me what to do.”
“Okay,” Quinn agreed.
“Just okay?”
“Well, I don’t know what else to say. It’s clear that you need time, so take it. I’m not going anywhere.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I can’t. Every time I get more than a few hours away from this place, it feels like my heart is going to explode.”
“I’ll call you,” Abby said.
“Or, just walk to my house or stop by here whenever you want. I’m 412 Spencer. Red house with a white garage door. I don’t own it. I’m just renting. And if I’m not here, I’m there.”
“Okay,” Abby replied. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Then, she moved briskly past Quinn, making sure not to brush up against her. On her way out the door, though, she saw a photo at the front of the pack. She stopped, stared down at it, and picked it up. It was a woman in a hoop skirt, with blonde hair pulled back and wrapped up with a blue bow.
CHAPTER 22
Quinn stared at the bag of two food containers. She sat down at the chair by her desk and looked from the food that Abby had brought to the blackberry pie that Mr.Potter had dropped off earlier that day. Then, she sighed loudly as she slouched back into the chair. She understood what Abby was going through because she was going through it, too. Her own feelings were mixing with Harriet’s and maybe someone else’s, so it was hard to separate and know whose feelings were talking to her at that moment, butallof them were telling her that Quinn loved Abby or that sheshouldlove Abby.
That couldn’t be right because Abby wasn’t Deb. She’d been right about that. She was her own person and had her own feelings and memories, and Quinn was the same. Even though what Harriet felt for Deb was palpable to Quinn, that didn’t mean that she and Abby were meant to be together or could make it work. Deb and Harriet had lived in a different time and had their own challenges, some of which Quinn and Abby wouldn’t have to deal with, but Quinn and Abby would have their own set of challenges and their own lives, families, histories, wants, wishes, and desires that could clash and make something between them not possible.
Still, as she sat there, with a pie in front of her, she could only feel the loss. Abby had practically darted out of the shop because the idea of them being together, or being destined to be together somehow, had been too much. So much that Abby had suggested they skip it in this lifetime. She wasn’t sure how serious Abby was about that, but it had sounded pretty serious in the moment. Quinn had felt like someone, or something, had knocked her over. Not knowing if that was her own reaction or someone else’s, though, was part of the problem. What if it wasn’t Quinn and Abby at all? What if she was just feeling something for Deb as Harriet? Or as someone else entirely?
The bell over the door clanged, and her eyes instantly went to the monitor, hoping it was Abby coming back to tell her that she’d been wrong and that they could at least try to see what could happen between them. But it wasn’t Abby. It was the driver, there to pick up boxes. Quinn didn’t even have to get up because he knew where to find the pile marked for shipping. From where she was sitting in the back office, she could hear the beeps as he scanned each box. Then, she watched him stack them up on his cart and wheel them out. She continued to stare at the security monitor for the next several minutes, thinking that maybe Abby needed an extra minute before she came back. When that didn’t happen, though, Quinn decided that with the packages shipped out, she no longer had a reason to be in the shop when no one else would be walking in. She gathered her things, including the bag of food that Abby had brought so that it wouldn’t go to waste, the pie, and her shirt, which still needed to dry, put up the closed sign, and locked up.
When she got home, she took a quick shower to get the sticky, sugary drink off her skin. She’d now always think of Abby when she had sweet tea. As she threw on a pair of clean old pants and a T-shirt, she thought about that. She could so easily equate honeysuckle with Abby because of Harriet and Deb, but now, she’d add sweet tea in the mix, and this time, it was because ofthem, Quinn and Abby, not some past life they still weren’t sure was one-hundred-percent real.