Chapter 30

30

SEPTEMBER 1, 1927 MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA

It felt strange to open my eyes on Dupont Street, knowing that this would be the last time. Tomorrow would be my twenty-first birthday in 1727, and I planned to stay awake past midnight. If what Hope told me was true, I would not wake up in 1927 after that.

I had never cried so many tears before in my life, but as I watched the rain dripping from the eaves on the yellow house I'd grown up in, I couldn't stop them from falling. This was what I wanted, wasn't it? To live like a normal person. To have answers to my questions.

Now that I did, I wasn't as relieved as I thought I would be. It only added more heartache. How was I supposed to tell my parents? Instead of celebrating my birthday tomorrow, they would mourn my death. It was too much to contemplate and made me feel panicked.

The smell of coffee and bacon wafted up to my room, so I forced myself out of bed and dressed in one of my favorite outfits. People often talked about what they would do if they knew it was their last day to live. In many ways, this was my last day, at least in this life, and I knew what I would do. I wanted to spend it with the people I loved.

After I was dressed, I went downstairs and found my parents at the dining room table. Father was reading his newspaper, and Mother was reading a letter. Irene hadn't come down yet, but I was thankful for this bit of time alone with my parents. And I was thankful they knew about my time-crossing so I could tell them what would happen.

I hated to think of their despair.

"Good morning, Caroline," Mother said as she looked up from her letter and smiled. "You're right on time. Ingrid just brought in breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," I said as I took a seat at the table.

"Don't you feel well?" she asked me.

"No." I felt like I was going to be very sick.

Father lowered his newspaper and eyed me with concern. "What's wrong?"

I folded my hands on my lap, trying to find the words. "I have some very important news, but I fear it will shock and upset you."

I had their attention as they set aside their newspaper and letter.

"What's happened?" Mother asked. "You look like someone has died."

I needed to speak quietly so Ingrid wouldn't hear. "I found a family member in Salem Village in 1727 who was a time-crosser. Her name is Hope Abbott."

Both of my parents frowned at me, but neither one spoke.

"Hope told me about some of the time-crossing rules. She said that the birthmark on my chest is what marks me as a time-crosser. During supper, she told me that some of her children have the mark and others don't. My mother in the 1700s had the mark, and her mother before her, and her mother before her. I don't know how it started, but through the centuries, time-crossers have learned many of the rules that govern the gift." I was talking fast, but I needed to get it all out. There was so much I had learned from Hope last night and so much more I wanted to know.

"This is all fantastical," Father said. "Is it really true, Caroline?"

"I don't know how, but it is." I took another deep breath. "Hope also told me the hardest news of all. She said that on my twenty-first birthday, I must choose which life I want to keep and which one I want to forfeit. Whichever one I want to keep, I will stay awake there until midnight."

"What happens to the other one?" Mother asked, engrossed in my explanations.

"My body will die in the one I don't want to keep," I said quietly. "My conscious mind will stay with the one I do keep—and that will be it. I will never cross time again."

Neither one spoke as they stared at me.

"If what you say is true," Father said, "then of course you'll choose this one."

I could no longer meet their gazes as I studied the fruit bowl in the center of the table. "I—I will choose 1727."

The only sounds I could hear were Ingrid's muted humming in the kitchen, the grandfather clock ticking in the foyer, and the rain tapping on the windowpanes.

"Don't be absurd," Mother finally said. "You cannot die here tomorrow, Caroline. I won't have it."

I finally looked up. "I'm sorry, Mother. But I'm in love with a man named Maxwell MacDougal in 1727, and he's asked me to marry him. I've said yes."

Her lips parted as Father straightened in his chair. "What's this?" he asked. "A man has been courting you in 1727 and you haven't mentioned him? What kind of a man is he?"

My hands trembled as I said, "He was a pirate, but he's now a sinner saved by grace, Father."

Ever so slowly, a smile tilted up the edges of his mouth. "I'm pleased to hear that."

"How can you say that, Daniel?" Mother asked. "Our daughter has just told us she's dying here tomorrow to marry a pirate!"

Father reached across the table and took my trembling hand. "Our God is timeless, Caroline, eternal. To Him, a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is like a day. So whether you live in 1727 or 1927, your eternal home is in heaven with Him. It is your soul, and the soul of Maxwell, that most concerns me. I will miss you, but I know that we'll meet again one day."

"Is that all it takes to appease you?" Mother asked. "This is our only daughter."

"She has never been ours, Marian." He laid his other hand on his wife's arm. "She's a gift from God, ours for a short time. We've never had a guarantee that we'd have her forever. She could marry someone and move to Africa, and we'd never see her again. Her life is in God's hands. And if this is what He is calling her to do, then we will have to make peace with that decision."

I could see the struggle in Mother's heart. It was written all over her face, but she was strong, and she would rally, as always. Father's strength would be hers until she could muster enough on her own. I had faith in both my parents.

A noise on the step told us that Irene was about to join us.

"Let's not ruin today with this news," Father instructed. "We'll invite everyone over to celebrate your birthday early, and you can say your goodbyes—but you won't need to tell them it's final."

"Thank you," I said as I took my hand back. It had not eased my pain, but knowing that Father would hold up the family put my mind at peace.

As the day progressed, I found joy in the simple things I wouldn't have in 1727. Indoor plumbing, electricity, the telephone, and the automobile. We went on a drive through Minneapolis and into Saint Paul, and then came home for an evening with my family.

Thomas and Alice came for a short while, but they left before Ruth and the children arrived. It was the only way my parents could handle the situation for now. I was sad that I didn't get to say goodbye to Andrew, but he'd made his decisions, and I couldn't force him to turn away from them. I would pray for him, as I knew my parents and Ruth would, and hope he could find his way back to Ruth and the children.

But it was the arrival of Lewis that I anticipated the most. As the children played in the parlor and my parents visited with Ruth and Irene, I saw Lewis pull up in his Chevy.

I excused myself and walked out onto the porch.

It was still raining, so I waited for him. He got out of his vehicle and raced up the sidewalk to the house. When he reached the porch, he looked up and smiled.

"Hello, Carrie."

"Hello, Lewis."

"I was surprised to get your invitation today."

"I'm happy you could come. Will you sit out here with me for a minute?"

"Of course."

We went to the swing and took a seat.

The rain fell in a steady cadence, dripping on the green leaves of the trees and the blades of grass in the lawn. Mother's mums were just starting to bloom, and they opened their petals to the life-giving rain.

"I don't know how to tell you this," I said to Lewis, "but today is my last day here."

"What?" He turned to me. "What does that mean?"

"I spoke to one of my relatives in Salem Village yesterday, and she told me that I must choose which life I want on my twenty-first birthday. I've decided to stay in 1727."

"For Marcus?" he asked.

"His real name is Maxwell MacDougal, and yes. I'm staying for him." I explained to Lewis how we'd gone to the governor, and Maxwell had been given a pardon. "He's a good man, and I love him very much."

"You'd have to, to give up all of this."

"It won't be easy, but I'm grateful I have Hope to help guide me. I also have other family members there." I pulled a letter from my pocket, one I'd written earlier in the day. "This is for Annie. I've explained everything to her. Will you see that she gets it? She deserves to understand this gift we've been given."

He took the letter and slowly nodded. "I will."

"Thank you."

We continued to swing, neither of us speaking for a moment. A gentle breeze blew onto the porch, ruffling my hair and the hem of my skirt.

"I love you, Carrie," he said as he touched the edges of the envelope. "I've loved you my whole life, and I don't think I'll ever stop."

I took his hand in both of mine. "I love you, too, Lewis."

"Just not in the way I'd always hoped."

"I'm sorry."

He let out a sigh and lifted my hand to his lips to give it a kiss. "I am, too. But I'm starting to realize it's for the best."

"Because of Irene?"

He nodded and smiled, then he stood and drew me to my feet. "Come on, Curly Carrie. Let's not waste this last night together mourning the past or the future."

He started to tug me into the house, but I stopped him. "Be good to her," I said.

His face softened, and he said, "I'll tease her incessantly."

I smiled and gave Lewis a hug and then we walked into the house and joined the others.

Saying goodbye hurt more than I could imagine, but Father would help my family and friends grieve. And someday, we would all be reunited again.

Goodbye wouldn't last forever.