Page 63 of Time for You
“Daphne’s favorite,” Henry said with a warm smile. “And we have dessert, too.”
“Dessert?” Brittany asked interestedly. She toed her shoes off and padded into the kitchen. “What’s for dessert?”
“Lava cakes,” Ellie said from where she sat at the table, sipping wine. “It’s smelled amazing in here all day, been absolutetorture.”
“Then let’s eat,” Vibol declared. For a short time, everyone busied themselves serving and passing bowls around. There were mountains of fluffy white rice and perfectly stuffed gyoza, and the chicken tikka masala was a glowing golden red against the green of the salad.
“What food will you miss the most?” Ellie asked, chewing.
“That macaroni and cheese that comes out of a box,” Henry said sheepishly. “It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten, even if it’s not that much fun to make.”
“Processed food really is one of our better inventions,” Brittany agreed.
Once they had made their way through dinner—and while Vibol was right, tikka masala and gyoza didn’t go together, that didn’t make either any less delicious—and Henry had served the molten lava cakes, he stood up expectantly. “At the risk of sounding, as you all are so fond of accusing me,cheesy, I would like to say something.”
Daphne’s throat felt thick and her eyes blurred, but when Henry picked up his glass of wine, she did the same. “I know adopting a man from nearly two centuries ago was not in any of your plans, but I do appreciate the way you all took me in. And not just that, but you took me in and showed me how the worldcouldbe, even when it felt strange and foreign to me. Even when I resisted, or was just wrong.”
“You were wrong a lot, to be fair,” Brittany said dryly.
“I was.” He chuckled. “But I’ve learned, and now, when I go back, I know I’ll be a better man. And that’s thanks to you.” He lifted his wine and everyone followed suit, clinking their glasses together.
Daphne met his gaze, devastated by two equally difficult ideas—she loved Henry more than she’d ever loved anyone before, and she was about to lose him.
Daphne stood next to Henry, her hand clasped tightly in his, in a semicircle with the rest of her friends. The apartment building to their right was throwing just enough shade to keep them out of the late-afternoon sun, which was currently baking the entire city.
“So we’re sure about the exact time of this?” Brittany asked, checking her watch.
“As sure as I can be, and I reran the equation half a dozen times,” Ellie said. “And the solstice is at 3:50 p.m. today.”
“And we’re in the right spot?” Brittany asked.
“It was down there,” Henry answered, pointing to an otherwise unremarkable spot on the street a few blocks back. “And Ellie’s calculations put the spot here now.”
“You’resure,” Brittany said.
“One doesn’t forget the moment they arrived in a new century,” Henry said dryly.
“Yeah, but you did get flattened by Daphne right after,” Vibol countered.
“He’s right—that sort of trauma can cause memories to feel sharp but actually be inaccurate,” Michelle added.
“What if I confirm it was right here?” Daphne said with a faint smile.
“That’s better than nothing, but still—” Vibol said, looking around. “She did run a dude over with her bike. That’s also traumatic.”
“He’s right, guys,” Daphne said firmly. She knew they were being weird because everyone felt a little strange right now. Or rather,theyfelt strange. Daphne had thought she would feel heartbroken, but instead she just felt numb. She was losing Henry within the next few minutes, and all she could do was stand there and hold his hand.
“You’ve got all the meds, right?” Michelle asked.
They had, after a lot of arguing about “timelines” and “the space-time continuum,” agreed to send him with a giant stash of antibiotics, antivirals, and some over-the-counter painkillers, along with a medical textbook. Henry had dutifully written down everything they’d told him about using them, and had sworn he wouldn’t dispense medication to anyone exceptthose he knew, to keep from interrupting the next century-plus of medical progress. Henry had wanted to take a photograph back with him, and Vibol had agreed, but Daphne and the rest were worried about what that might do—none of them fully understood time travel, and too much modernity in the 1800s might fuck everything up. Daphne understood why Henry wanted photos, but she thought perhaps it would be easier for him, if he could forget her.
She’d never forget him, obviously. But maybe he could. Maybe he could move on, just like she’d promised him she would, knowing that it was a lie.
“I have everything, just like the last time you asked,” Henry said gently. “And thank you all. For this, and for—everything.”
“Don’t get all sentimental on me now,” Vibol chided, but his brown eyes were glistening.
Henry moved first, dropping Daphne’s hand to move toward Vibol and draw him into a hug. It was not an awkward, back-patting hug but a true, genuine one. Henry murmured something, and Vibol murmured something back, and when he pulled away, Vibol’s eyes went straight to Michelle, answering Daphne’s mental question about what Henry had said.
