Pounding footsteps thundered upstairs, followed by another slam, this time of my bedroom door.
Slowly I crept out of the cellar and moved into the kitchen where the pie plate sat. Empty and waiting to be scrubbed clean so it stood ready to do what it was meant to do.
Kinda like me without gymnastics.
There was only one more course of action. One thing I really didn’t want to do. I needed to talk to my mother. Tell her who I was and why I’d come back. I knew she would help me fulfill my dream. The thing with Bill had shaken her. After she had a little bit of time to reflect, she’d see that I was just growing up and assist me in making my own choices.
Besides, there I stood, the cautionary tale of what would happen to her daughter if she didn’t have gymnastics in her life.
If she believed me.
Big fat if.
The back door opened before I realized anyone was there. I froze like a deer in the headlights as Paul Blackthorn strode inside. No time to hide, to get out of his field of view.
His eyes went wide when he saw me. “You. You’re the woman who took my car aren’t you?”
“I can explain.” The words of anyone who has ever been busted for doing something wrong. My mind groped for a suitable reason why I, to his knowledge a total stranger, would have taken his car. Would he believe I was his daughter from the future?
With my mother, I stood a small chance. But dad was a man of facts and science. He enjoyed science fiction but didn’t believe it was anything more than a product of artistic invention. I remember watching the movie Back to the Future with him when I was about eight and having him explain to me why time travel was impossible all throughout dinner.
“What’s going on here?” Mom, clad now in a dress almost identical to the ugly one I’d borrowed reemerged into the kitchen. It was the first up-close look I’d had of her in this timeline. She was about my age though much like the dress, she wore the years better. “Who’s this?”
“The woman who stole my car.” Dad crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at me. “And broke into your house apparently. I’m still waiting for an explanation of why.”
Mom reached for the phone hanging on the wall. “I’m going to call the police.”
“No, wait.” I lunged for the phone and yanked the jack out of the wall. “I’m sorry I took your car, but I needed to help Joey.”
“What does Joey have to do with any of this?” My dad asked.
“Everything. You need to listen to me, for the sake of your daughter’s future.” I sucked in a big breath and then said the words. “You see, I’m Joey. I’m from over two decades in the future. And I’m here to tell you that what you decide to do now will affect my entire existence.”
My parents exchanged a, she’s out of her mind look. I couldn’t blame them, but I needed to get them to believe me somehow.
“Look, I know you two have been spending a lot of time together and that you, Mom, are actually wondering if maybe you should marry him after all these years of casual dating.”
My mother’s lips parted.
“In my version of the future, that doesn’t happen. Because in about two hours, the Joey you know gets in a horrible car accident.” I held up my wrist, pointing out the surgical scars which had faded to pale white streaks.
“My wrist was pulverized and there was no way I could have recovered enough to make it as an elite gymnast in time for the next round of Nationals. My career was over before it began. And I have been completely miserable ever since. You,” I pointed to my father. “You told me that your biggest regret in life was not standing up to mom and pulling me out of school this year, before I got involved with Bill Tucker. He was the one who was driving when I got hurt.”
My mother gasped but my father was frowning. “How did you get here?”
I held his gaze. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. What I can tell you is that the three of us have been existing in a sort of half-life for more than two decades. You have no grandchildren. You’re still living the same way you