Yesterday (The Bridge Book 1) Page 16

  “You can’t do that. It has to appear that everything is as you left it. I’m sorry, Dad. That’s how it has to be.”

  Numbly he nods. “I guess I’m not used to this. You seem like an old pro and I’m shaking in my boots.”

  “Hardly.” I stand. “I have a few things I need to get done, but I promise I’ll pick-up some supplies for you. A few weeks isn’t too long to spend with me, is it?”

  Dad puts his arms around my shoulder as he guides me to the front door. “I think that’s the only part of this crazy plan I like, but if you say it will work…”

  “Night, Dad.” I kiss his cheek and slip out into the hallway.

  It’ll work. It has to.

  Chapter Thirty

  The days tick by slowly, but on the third day, everything seems to freeze. I busy myself trying to be domestic. Donovan’s back and unpacking his suitcase while I make dinner in the cramped kitchen. There are a few open boxes laying on the counter, the jug of milk, and what is left of the butter.

  “I thought we’d go out to eat. Celebrate.” Donovan wraps his arms around my middle. It’s so good to have him back home, even if I can’t keep my mind on the present.

  “I thought I’d treat you.”

  Donovan picks up the open box on the counter. “Mac and cheese? You rather eat this than go out?”

  “I made dinner for my dad a few nights ago.” I glance at Donovan as I stir with a wooden spoon. “Steak, potatoes, gravy…”

  Donovan groans. “You’re killing me!”

  “I realized I’ve never made you one of my favorite meals in the world. My dad used to make this for me whenever I was sick. Before…before I changed time.” Proudly, I turn off the burner and present him with my frying pan. “Mac and cheese with peas and tuna. Waa-laa My hand gesture is that of a fashion model on the Price is Right.

  Donovan tries hard to suppress a laugh. “You think I’m a food snob, don’t you?”

  “I think you’re just a plain ol’ snob.” Tugging on his pant buckle, I pull him close so we can kiss. “Try it for me or you might never get steak again.” Using my wooden spoon, I offer him a bite full and to his credit, Donovan tastes it.

  He sucks on his top lip. “Okay, that’s not bad, I’ll give you that. I guess if it means a life with you, I can put up with it.”

  I laugh at him as he grabs some dishes from the cabinet. “I made sugar cookies for dessert.”

  “Sugar cookies.” His eyebrows rise. “Well, why didn’t you say so!” I follow him out to the small table out in our living room. As I get closer, I see a bottle of white wine on the table. “I’m not sure white wine is the best thing to serve with this dish. It’s more of a cola thing.”

  “Lots of people drink before they’re twenty-one, Lara.” Donovan lights the small candle in the center of the table. “My dad got it for me—for us. He helped me make a big investment on our trip. A big one.”

  My heart sinks as I realize this is it. This is the moment that changed the course of our life in the future. I had hoped, somehow, the investment wouldn’t ever be made. “That’s great.” I force a smile and a laugh. “That’s…awesome.”

  “Wicked awesome.” Donovan touches my chin. “We’re going to be set for life. Everything you’ve ever wanted, it’s going to happen. I promise.” He pours the wine and he’s beaming. The glow on his face breaks my heart.

  “Don, you know I have everything I want, right? You, my parents. My family. That’s all I really ever wanted.”

  He takes the frying pan from me and sets it on the table. “You can’t pay bills with all that stuff, Lara. Wouldn’t you be happier if you could have both?”

  I smooth his face with my hand. “No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t, Don. I’m serious. I don’t need to be rich to be complete. I’ve been poor before. I know poor, but you know what I’ve also been? Alone. Isolated and locked in a cage. That’s far worse than being poor.”

  Donovan’s smile drops and he gets that serious look he gets when he watches football. “Okay, Lara. Okay. I was just kidding, you know? I…wouldn’t trade you for all the money in the world.”

  I smile as we embrace, but part of me isn’t sure. Part of me just really doesn’t know, no matter how much I want to believe him.

  ****

  “I’m just going to go throw out the trash.”

  Beside me on the sofa, Donovan is half asleep with his hands folded, his head resting off to the side. In front of us, the television plays just loud enough that I can escape without him really noticing. He nods, but I’m not sure he really hears me after his long day of travel.

  I grab the small duffle bag stowed in the kitchen along with the bag of trash before I sneak out the front door. Down the stairwell I go, until I reach the bottom level, just outside and beside a green dumpster. As I throw the trash into a dumpster, a shadow peers out from around the corner.

  It’s other Lara. She’s dressed in jeans and a hoodie. We don’t have long to talk so I toss the duffel on the ground beside her feet.

  “Tonight at ten he’ll be presumed dead. You make sure he goes with you quietly. Don’t tell him there’s more than one of us.”

  “I know.” Other Lara’s hands splay. “I’m you, remember?”

  “Sorry.” I cringe and glance over my shoulder. “It’s just nerves.”

  Other Lara bends over to grab the bag. “I know. Tomorrow in class—just make sure it’s authentic.”

  Authentic, right. Authentic. I turn back and head into the apartment building with nerves clustering in me everywhere. I’ve done some crazy things before but pretending my dad is dead while surrounded by my family and friends; that is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

  ****

  “Lara Montgomery?”

  I glance up in class and realize I haven’t been paying attention. My professor points his finger toward the door and I see Mom just outside the window. She’s twitching her fingers, and her face is wet with tears.

  Oh, God… Here we go.

  Clearing my throat, I wipe my hands on my skirt and head out into the hall as slowly as I can. I feel as if I’m marching to my death. When my eyes fall on Mom, I don’t want to do this anymore. Her red eyes still me, as do her puffy cheeks. She’s been crying, crying hard.

  “Mom?” I grip her arms, almost forgetting my pretense. “What’s the matter?”

  She glances up at the ceiling and her eyes fill with fresh tears. Mom squeezes my arms to anchor herself and I feel the weight of my decision gripping me tightly. What was I putting her through?

  “It’s…John.” Her lip quivers and Mom’s voice raises into a panic. “He’s…I’m sorry…I should be stronger for you than this.”

  “Mom?” Quietly, my lips part and tears well in my eyes. I’m not acting anymore. My heart is breaking and I don’t know if it’s because I feel the weight of my dad being gone, or for what I’m putting my mom through.

  “He’s gone, baby, he’s gone.” Mom breaks down into painful sobbing.

  I shake my head. I’m supposed to rant and rave. Come unglued, but how can I do that to my mom? The pain she’s feeling is so strong. “Momma?” I whisper and my lip quivers. I’m about to lose it, not for the loss of my dad but because of my mom’s pain; that I’m the one causing it. I’m the one who is hurting her this way.

  When all I’ve ever wanted to do is save her.

  Mom pulls me in for a hug, and we embrace. We hold each other tightly and mom cries out with her face buried in my hair. “How could he… How could he do this? I never…never got to tell him…never told him how much…”

  She chokes on her words and I squeeze my eyes shut to block out her words, but I hear them anyway. How much I loved him.

  I only hold her harder. “I’m sorry, Momma. I’m sorry, Momma.” I don’t know how many times I say it, but by the end I’m hoarse and my heart has broken open for the world to see.

  ****

  My plan made so much more sense on paper. As I go through t
he motions of grief, love, and loss, it grows harder every day to keep up the act. I sit with Mom, her hand in mine, as we meet with the funeral director. Mom isn’t crying anymore, but she seems numb. Like she isn’t even here.

  Instead it’s as if she gazes off, caught by a distant thought, a haunting memory that I can’t see. “I never thought this was how it would end.” Mom’s cheeks fill out as she fights a fresh wave of tears. She folds her handkerchief and dots at her eyes as if, somehow, that will help. “He seemed so strong. He seemed so hungry for life.”

  I bite my lip and squeeze her fingers. I know why I’m doing this, but it’s hard. I can’t even look over at her or the guilt might consume me.

  After our meeting, Mom and I kiss each other’s cheeks. I show her out and then I meet with the funeral director one more time. He’s a tall man with a head full of gray hair. His eyes watch me with suspicion. “You’re asking a lot of me.”

  “That’s a big briefcase of cash we gave you.” I cross my arms and offer him a level stare. “Unless you want to go back to your wife and tell her everything.”

  He sinks down into a recliner. “Heavens, no. I’ll do as you ask, but if someone opens the casket, it’ll all be for nothing.”

  “That won’t happen.” I shake his hand and then I’m on my way.

  At Mom’s house, everyone is there, even Donovan’s dad, and a fog of grief hangs over everything. Even the glasses and the silverware sound muted to me, as if they too, are afraid to intrude on our silence.

  I excuse myself to the kitchen and in there I hide. The countertops are a parade of colorful casserole dishes. While the smell of assorted cheeses and cream sauces is delightful, I’m too torn up inside to really be hungry. Instead, I grab a glass of water and chug it down.

  “You doing okay?”

  I jump at the sound of Jax’s voice. “Jax.”

  I’m so relieved to see him that I crush him with a hug. His arms come around me as they always do and I’m thankful that he cares so much.

  “Your mom said it’d be okay if I came around. I wanted to be here for Mike and Molly, but mostly for you. No matter what happens, I’ll always think of you as my baby girl…and I’m sorry about your dad.”

  Jax kisses the top of my head and I’m struck by his simple words. Simple in nature, maybe, but they resound all around me. “You’re such a good guy, Jax. I wish…well, I wish for a lot of things.”

  “Sometimes there’s no fixing certain mistakes, but I’ll always be around for you. I hope you know that.”

  I nod. “I do. Thanks, Jax. Will you…be at the funeral?” I bite my tongue as I ask the question.

  “If you want me to.”

  “I do.” Reaching back into my memory, I see that he’s there. We’re standing by the casket, Jax holding my hand as Molly takes my other. She gazes up at me and whispers. “This shouldn’t be happening.”

  With a start, I take a short intake of breath. Jax gazes at me with suspicion. “You all right?”

  “Yeah, there’s just something I have to go do.”

  I head upstairs to the bedrooms. Mike is playing video games in his room, but Molly is nowhere to be seen. “Molly?” I knock on her door, but her room is empty. Her princess bed is made, but there’s no one there.

  When I turn around, I see Molly dressed in her navy blue dress standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She stares straight ahead at nothing and it’s as if she can’t even see me. Like she’s somewhere else.

  It terrifies me.

  “Molly?” I go down on bended knee in front of her. Her eyes don’t even blink. I wave my hand in front of her face. “Molly!” I scream to get her attention.

  Suddenly, she breaths again and her eyes blink. “Hi, Lara.” She smiles and then gives me a hug as if nothing has happened.

  As if she hadn’t just been frozen stiff, her mind a million miles away.

  “Hang in there, Molly,” I whisper, my chin on her shoulder. “It’ll be over soon.”

  ****

  One by one, everyone arrives at the funeral home. Donovan drives us. He’s in his finest black suit and tie. I’m dressed in a black dress, wearing comfortable pumps. I keep my eye out for anything suspicious, but in reality, there isn’t anything off.

  Donovan opens the door for me and holds an umbrella as we silently walk in the rain toward the funeral home. When he sees my mother, he stops. “I’ll go get her.” He leaves me, dry as a bone under the canopy and races to escort her inside.

  Kind. Compassionate. Every girl should be so lucky, but still, my heart sinks. Still, I’m not sure what to make of everything.

  Instead of waiting for him, I head inside. The cool blast of air conditioning greets me and there’s an overwhelming aroma of flowers. Soft music plays, intended to inspire relaxation, but quiet enough not to intrude. I gaze at the closed casket covered in the bouquet of white roses that Mom sent. I have never seen so many giant roses in my life.

  All the chairs are empty as I move through the room and knock on Mr. Richards’s office. “Mr. Richards? I wanted to apologize for what I said,” I push open the office door and I’m taken aback when I see his body beside the desk. Crumbled on his chest with his arms by his side, there’s a pool of red blood spilling out from beneath him. It soaks into the red carpet, like a giant kool-aid stain.

  A pair of scissors in his back holds a note down and I don’t even touch it. Instead, I retreat into the hall and shut the office door tightly. Everything is ruined. Everything is wrong.

  What am I going to do?

  I turn around, a sigh lodged in my throat and see the floor is covered in white roses. The casket is wide open.

  Someone’s been here. Someone knows my secret.

  “Did you really think you could fool me?” Cassidy, a dangerous, angry Cassidy, comes out of nowhere and seizes me by the throat.

  I gag and grab her hand, but it’s too late. She throws me across the room and I collide with a row of chairs. We tumble like dominos.

  “Cassidy, stop! You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing.” She kicks me under the jaw and I go flying onto my back, but I raise my hand to freeze time and her with it.

  Somehow she’s able to resist. She kicks my hand away and again, grabs me by the neck. I groan and reach for her as the front door latches open. No, they can’t come in. They can’t see what is about to happen.

  “The plan…” I whisper out hoarsely.

  Cassidy’s jaws grind together. “This was always the plan, Crane. It was always the plan.” She sticks the baton against my stomach.

  She couldn’t have lied, could she? I couldn’t have been deceived like that. We were on the same side, I know we were!

  I holler in pain as a child’s scream echoes around me. “Lara!” Molly shrieks, her cry piercing my ears. Through the wall of people charging toward me and Cassidy, Molly’s small hand reaches through and grabs me.

  Molly, no!

  The bridge opens up around us. My vision spins into the dark and with a crackle, Molly and I are gone.

  As if we never really existed in the first place.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I hit the cold, hard floor. My nose smashes into the linoleum and blood flows out of my nostrils. Hands grab the back of my shoulders and lift me up. My legs wobble and I have no time to think, let alone breath. I glower directly into Cameron Kincaid's eyes.

  He snarls, and the evil glint in his eyes almost makes me glance away. "Did you really think, dear Lara, that you could outsmart us?"

  I glance a Cassidy and I'm disheartened to see she's only staring at me. Her arms are crossed against her chest and she shifts her weight from leg to leg. There is a satisfied smile on her face and I can't believe she fooled me so royally.

  She’s not on my side. Maybe she never was.

  I help Molly stand and put a protective arm around her shoulders. Her eyes are wide I can see the fear in her little face. "Send her back. She's just a kid."


  Cameron smiles. He goes down on bended knee in front of Molly "I don't think so. I've seen the future and I know what she is."

  “Don’t talk to her!” Protectively, I cover her ears with my hands.

  Molly squeals with fear and burrows her face into my middle and her arms wrap me tightly. I cling to her, hugging her closely. "Leave her alone. She’s just a kid."

  He laughs. “Hardly, maybe now, but in a few years…” Cameron makes a motion as if he's going to hurt Molly. I attempt to jerk her way, but the orderlies behind me prevent my protective instinct. There's no escape.

  Cameron motions for another orderly, the big one that hurt me the last time I was here, to step forward, which he does without batting an eye, but another one gives Cameron a disapproving glance. "Maybe she's right. Maybe we shouldn't be —."

  Cameron snapped his fingers at the man. "Jeffrey, why don't you return to your station? And we can talk about this disobedience another time."

  Cassidy takes Molly from me. I try to hold on to her, but Cassidy grunts and rips her away. My little sister stretches her arms to me and her fingers wiggle out of pure desperation. "Lara!"

  "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you." Cassidy puts her hands on Molly’s shoulders and I note the look of confusion passing over Molly's face.

  “Don’t hurt me. Please!”

  As Cassidy guides her away, Molly glances over her shoulder at me, fear in her wide eyes and her lower lip beginning to tremble.

  I shrug the orderly off me and charge forward. My sister is afraid and I can’t stand another minute of it. I try to travel in time, or freeze the space around us, but space and time only wobble, and I’m thrown backward.

  “There’s no time travel here, Lara. Here, we exist outside of time. In a pocket, a small hole built by you. It can’t be frozen, it can’t be manipulated. It’s the perfect prison, built just for you.” Cameron grabs my arms and won't let me go any further.