Trisha Telep: The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance

“A woman.”

“A slip.”

He met her eyes.

“Does he leave me?” she asked, slightly ill.

“No,” he said sadly. “Though I wish he would.”

“Like my father, then?”

“Kate, I watched you fold in on yourself. I watched the Kate who set the room on fire everywhere she went just go out, like someone shot out a porch light with a twenty-two. It was like an eclipse, Kate. The spark was gone.”

She refused to believe she could let that happen. She refused to believe she’d have invested so much in a man like her father. All her life had been about feeling strong and empowered. “How do we know I can’t change it? How do we know?”

“I have to be honest, Kate. I don’t know. I hope it is possible to change things. After all, that’s the reason I’m here.”

She looked at P.J., trading quips with Mark. “I can’t believe the Mark I’ve met would do that, and I really can’t believe I’d be attracted to that kind of man.”

“People change, Kate. I told you.”

“Did you?” She wondered what his story was.

“No.”

“Did you marry?

“Yes, once. For six years. But it was mistake.”

“Why?”

He turned his head. “The usual reasons.”

“Why?”

“Kate.”

“Why, Patrick?”

He led her into an unexpected turn. “I was in love with someone else.”

Her eyes came to rest on P.J., who was looking straight at her. When their gazes met, he pivoted and took a long swallow from his beer. She wondered what else she had missed tonight.

“I’m sorry,” she said honestly. “I didn’t know.”

Patrick shrugged good-naturedly.

“Am I nicer to you in the future than I am tonight?”

He laughed. “Yes. Much.”

“I’m glad.” She looked into those grey eyes. “Do I love you then?”

A flash of pain crossed his face. “Er, not that way, no.”

She considered the courage and immense love it took to come so far for someone who didn’t return your feelings. “So why don’t you talk to him?” She indicated his younger self.

“Not allowed. Causes some kind of cosmic run-time error.”

“And you’re not willing to risk it?”

“I was told my time here would end instantly if I did, so, no,” he said with a significant look, “I wasn’t willing to risk it.”

The music soared, and the singer made Peter Gabriel’s lyrics her own.

“If you could,” she asked, “what would you say?”

“Oh, gosh.” He looked into the distance, his face breaking into the first truly unburdened smile of the evening. “Don’t be such an idiot. Don’t use Mark as an excuse to not at least try for what you want. Don’t underestimate your own overpowering potential with women.” The smile turned lopsided, and he dipped her with a flourish. “Oh, and do not bet against the Pirates in the ’22 World Series.”

She lifted a sly brow. “That last bit, good to know.”

“Yeah, enjoy it for the next four minutes.”

She laughed, but suddenly four minutes didn’t seem like enough — not nearly enough. “What do I look like then?” She wondered if she were still battling a weight problem. It was a stupid question, but somehow she felt if she knew, some of the rest might be easier.

“You’re asking the wrong person.”

She looked at him quizzically.

“OK, here’s what I see,” he explained. “You walk in a room, fireworks go off. Your hair sends off sparks of gold like a halo. I see your smile, of course — at least when you were smiling. And a body that just exudes—”

“Hey!”

“Let me finish. That just exudes this sort of grace and openness to the world. And, well, let’s face it, curves that just won’t stop.”

He squawked as she elbowed him.

“I am a man, all right?”

She let her hand drift to his lapel. He felt so solid, so constant. She’d never felt that before.

“I want that grace and openness for you always, Kate. That’s why I’m here.”

A thickness in her throat made it hard to speak. She didn’t know this man, really. And yet he spoke in a way she’d barely allowed herself to imagine she might be spoken to someday. She must do something right to deserve a man like this in her future.

“What do you become?” she asked.

“Other than a slave to unrequited love?”

She grinned. “Yes.”

“Um, an archaeologist. I think I, er, he might have mentioned that.” He gestured toward P.J.

“Geez, am I that self-absorbed?” She chucked her forehead. “Why can’t I remember what you told me?”

“Because you, my friend, have just entered the altered psychological state known as Mark Donovan. It’s like cocaine, only more enthralling. P.J. McCann, on the other hand, makes up in longevity what he lacks in luminosity. Mark’s like the spotlight at a movie premiere. I’m like a glow-in-the-dark rock. Four-point-five billion year half-life.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, feeling the soft weave of his jacket and the softer chest below. Four-point-five billion years. She liked that.

The singer, while no Peter Gabriel, brought a heartfelt yearning to her desire to come back to the place her love was.

“I’m seeing just one problem,” she said.

“Just one?” The rumble of his chuckle tickled her cheek.

“Just one. When I let go of your hand, I’m not going to remember any of this. Not one word.”

“I guess,” he said slowly, “I’m hoping for a miracle.”

“Like the ’22 Pirates?”

“Yeah, but this one, I’m not betting against. In fact, I’ve pretty much put all my chips on it.”

“Well, at least I’ll still have you. Do you think, I mean, is it possible, we’ll fall in love if we change things?”

He was silent so long she lifted her head.

He looked wretched. “We won’t.”

“But it’s possible, right? I mean, anything’s possible, right?”

“Not with us.”

“But if someone can — wait,” she said. “I still have you, don’t I?” Her head spun toward P.J. and back to him. “I still keep you, Patrick, even if I lose Mark. I mean, you’re right there.”

“Kate …”

“Tell me!”

“Think about it. I’m from Boston, which is where I — the younger I — at least at present, am planning to find an assistant professor position. I take the job at Pitt when I graduate for one reason: to be near you. And the only thing that impels me to do that is that I’ve fallen in love with you while you’re dating Mark. No Mark tonight; no P.J. later.” He shook his head sadly. “Dominoes, Kate.”

“But you’re standing right over there. Can’t we just connect?”

But she already knew the answer. As soon as Patrick released her hand and this conversation was wiped from her head, she’d be too drunk on the thought of Mark to take the slightest notice of his pleasant but unremarkable friend.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said. “It’s me, too. Look at me over there, for God’s sake. I try to work up the courage to talk to you all night and never do. I have to collect the stupid tuxes, so I’m the last person here. I watch you leave with the final bunch of partygoers. I actually stand in the parking lot and watch Mark get in the car with you. How sad is that?”

She gazed across the nearly empty dance floor, out beyond the ballroom windows. It seemed so unfair. How could she be given such a gift for such a tiny period of time?

“I won’t do it,” she said simply. “I won’t change what happens if it means I lose you.”

He stopped so abruptly she nearly stumbled. “Kate, why do you think I’ve come here? I’m not trying to keep you from some pain. I wouldn’t dare — hell, I wouldn’t need to! You’re one of the strongest women I know. I would have happily stood at your periphery for