Page 13 of Just in Time
I tried to put it out of my mind. It wouldn’t do me any good to dwell on negative things. I also didn’t really want to discuss it with Brody. It was my biggest shame. My mistake.
I’d had the best intentions in mind, though.
Just like now.
I gulped thickly and squeezed his hand. “I know how to do it.”
His look of concern softened a bit, and he brought my hand up to his lips, pressing his lips to the back of my hand before letting it fall again between us. “Alright, baby. You know I trust you.”
Leading him back to the bed, I sat down on the edge, prompting him to sit opposite me.
I took the gloves from his other hand, placing them beside me as I laced my fingers with his.
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on his warmth and the feel of his skin. Not the visual of my hand holding nothing.
He tightened his grip and that was enough to ground me. To keep my blood from racing so quickly through my veins, to keep my heart from thudding audibly in my throat where it had taken up residence when I saw him lying here on the couch.
I forged a connection with him, physical and spiritual, another easy feat given our strong bond.
He still felt whole spiritually at least. That was something. Apparently, towards the end, bits of his spirit would begin to flake off. To disintegrate. I wanted to fix him before that happened. That was the goal.
I found the planes I usually manipulated, but this time, Brody’s was there with mine. Piggy-backing, kind of.
I looked further, finding the sparkling line that ran along his timeline and started spiraling off into the distance.
I reached for it, grabbing it and holding on tightly as it whizzed quickly into nothing.
I saw flashes of things in his childhood. When he was a baby. The view of his Mother’s face the first time he ever saw her. Right after he was born.
I saw beyond that. The dull redness of the womb. The thrum of his mother’s pulse.
Before that even, I held onto the lifeline until I couldn’t anymore. Until it stopped and bucked me off. I was only able to look for a split second, but luckily, the non-memory imprint was in a very recognizable place.
A movie theater.
With a marquee. The Princess Bride and Dirty Dancing were playing.
September 1987.
That was where we had to go. September 1987.
I went barreling back into myself, falling back on the bed as I hit. I forced my eyes to focus as I blinked up at the ceiling.
“I found the hole,” I said softly.
“Where is it?” Brody asked, his eyes deep and brown. Searching my own.
“Looks like it’s where you began…” I said. “And no, I don’t mean where your parents… you know… I mean, when your mother met your father.”
“Someone’s…” he trailed off. “Kept my mother from meeting my father?”
I nodded. “Something like that. If we go back… and we fix that… it should keep you from fading. But I need a date. I need a specific date so I know how far back to go…”
I started to get up. I needed to do a quick internet search first.
“But…” he trailed off, looking down at our hands. At my hands, clasped around nothing. “But, what about if we didn’t?”
“If we didn’t what? Fix it?” I asked.
