A full minute and a half passes before Kiersten’s voice comes back on the line.
“All good. What’s up? Are we debriefing The Bachelor from last night? Because I passed out halfway and still need to watch the ending.”
Excellent start. Kiersten is still Kiersten.
“I am going to ask you some questions,” I tell her. “I need you to humor me and answer them and not ask why or get weirded out. Okay?”
“Sounds ominous, but I’m in.”
I rack my brain for the right place to start. “Did we hang out last night?”
There’s background noise that sounds like her kids yelling. Then the soft click of a door closing, followed by notable silence. “No. You were supposed to be going out to some new bar downtown with a couple of your friends. Didn’t that happen?”
I have no idea. However, it fits with the timeline and why another Gemma was doing naked snow angels in the wee hours of the morning.
“Question two: Do the names Daxon McGuire and Stuart Holliston mean anything to you?”
Another long pause before she answers. “Is one of them that guy you sleep with sometimes? Except I thought his name was Connor or possibly Salvatore.”
“Those are very different names, and no, Stuart and Dax are both guys I know very well. You sure you don’t know them?”
She sighs on the other end. “I don’t think so. You date a lot of guys, Gems. It’s hard to keep track.”
No, I don’t. Or maybe now I do?
One last shot before I accept my fate.
“On a scale of one to ten, how solid is my grasp on reality?”
There’s a very distinctive snort, and I can practically hear my sister rolling her eyes. “Normally a strong eight and a half, but you’ve lost a few points with this weird line of questioning. What’s going on with you?”
I’m now 97 percent sure I’ve accidentally altered history.
“Are you busy this morning? I’m having a bit of a personal dilemma. Can you meet me at Aunt Livi’s in an hour?”
“Yeah…” My sister’s voice trails off. “Yeah. Trent is off today. I can see if he can stay here with the baby.”
There’s a noticeable pause on her end of the line. “You’re okay, though, right? You’re not about to tell me you’re dying? Or pregnant?”
Both of those would be easier to explain.
“I’m fine. But just come with an open mind.”
Chapter 6
“Explain this one more time for the mama who was up all night with a sleep-regressed two-year-old. You come from a parallel universe?”
My sister gives me the exact look you’d expect after dealing out such a bizarre story.
“Yes,” I reply. “Or maybe it’s an alternate timeline. I’m not exactly an expert on these things.”
After I called Kiersten, I came straight over to Aunt Livi’s and told her my story. She listened intently, responded with nothing but an Oh, well, isn’t that interesting, then busied herself making coffee until Kiersten showed up.
Whether it’s because of the familiar musty book smell of Aunt Livi’s apartment or the fact that it looks exactly as it should, my heart rate has come down to a much healthier level, the adrenaline has stopped pumping through my veins, and my stomach has slid back down my throat to its proper place above my gut.
I’ve recalled the events of this morning twice now with an eerie calmness and consumed three cups of coffee (although for the last two, I suspect Aunt Livi has been slipping me decaf), and still I get the sense that neither my sister nor my aunt believes me.
“And just to be clear.” My sister is using her toddler-mom voice on me. “In your timeline, you were dating a guy named Stuart, who broke up with you, so you cursed him and wound up here?”
I shrug, completely unsure of how to make the truth any more plausible.
Kiersten exchanges a look with my aunt before turning her attention back to me. “Any chance that in your universe, I’m married to Chris Pine?”
She leans in as she asks and sniffs my breath, not even trying to be discreet. I resist the urge to respond with a few unladylike words because I need my sister to believe me.
“I haven’t been drinking.” I push her away. “You’re married to Trent. You have three beautiful kids and are a giant pain in the ass, albeit a happy one.”
I turn to my Aunt Livi, who is sitting on the edge of the sofa. The little black book where she keeps all her important phone numbers is clutched in her hands. My spidey senses guess she’s contemplating calling her GP. “You’re the same too,” I tell her. “The shop. This apartment. Everything is exactly as it is in my timeline, except—” A weird thought occurs to me. “Come!”
I don’t wait for Kiersten or my aunt to agree before exiting the apartment and taking the stairs down to the bookshop. It’s mostly empty except for my aunt’s part-time employee, Barb, who throws me a friendly wave before returning to unpacking a cardboard box of what looks like healing crystals.
I push aside the barstool and run my hands along the linoleum countertop, feeling a swoop in my stomach at its near-perfect condition. “It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?” Kiersten’s boobs are pressed against my back. It’s so eerily like last night that I get a shiver down my spine with the déjà vu.
“There was a mark.” I rub my fingers over the unblemished surface. “We burned the countertop with the spell.”
“Ohhhh, a spell.” Kierst turns to my aunt. “This one has your name all over it. Did you give her those weird mushrooms again? I warned you they were probably laced with something. No wonder she’s hallucinating.”
My throat lets out a frustrated warble. “I can hear you and I’m not hallucinating. I’m telling you something is going on. We did that spell. Or that cleanse. Or whatever you want to call it. Now Dax, who is my best friend, doesn’t know who I am.”
Aunt Livi’s head snaps up. “Daxon McGuire?”
His name from her lips shoots my heart into my ribs like a cannonball.
“You know Dax?”
She nods. “He’s part of the James Street Small Business Association. You know, that group I’ve been trying to get you to join for months? To network more for your store?”
I don’t. It’s so weird. This store that up until now has only existed in the wildest depths of my imagination is suddenly a real thing that is apparently just flung into casual conversations. And yet other parts of my life, like Kiersten, or this bookstore, are so achingly familiar. It’s like trying to put together one big jigsaw puzzle with the picture facing down.
Kiersten flips around so her back rests against the counter. “Okay, fine. I’ll humor you. So we all came over to Livi’s. I’m gonna go ahead and assume drinking was involved and then we performed—what did you call it earlier—a love cleanse?”
I draw a deep breath and repeat my explanation.