“Hey. Fuck being strong,” I whispered, hoping to coax a smile. “You don’t have to be strong in front of me, not ever.”
A weak specter of humor flitted across her lips. “Thanks, Tish.”
I nodded toward the photograph. Thinking aloud, I mused, “If only you could slip back in time, like Ruthie, and warn him.”
“Warn Malcolm?”
The idea gained in both appeal and prospect. “According to Derrick, Ruthann is in 1882. And based on Una Spicer’s letters, we know Malcolm was in contact with the Spicers and the Rawleys during that time. If you could show up there and warn him…” I paused, considering. “I would if I could, but I’ve never felt the pull of time the same way Ruthie does. I’m not capable of moving through it.”
“But what makes you think I am? I’ve never felt it, either, Tish, and I’ve held Malcolm’s picture, I’ve read and touched letters and telegrams he wrote, I used to wear the ring I believe belonged to Cora. For the love of God, I was Cora in that life. I’ve held her skull in my hands and nothing ever pulled me backward.”
I refused to be swayed by negativity, at least for the moment. “Go with me here. Suppose we could find a way to communicate with them. If you and I aren’t capable of traveling through time, could we somehow send a message?”
Frustration overtook Camille’s delicate features. “But what would we warn them about? We don’t know what happened back then to cause this. We have no clue what Fallon did to one of the Rawleys, or possibly to one of Blythe’s ancestors.”
We had searched online for any and all Tilsons residing in Oklahoma without finding a hint of Blythe; broadening the search to include the rest of the country proved just as useless.
“But we know that Fallon did something,” I argued, determination welling. “What if we could get a message to Malcolm or Ruthie or Marshall to be careful, to be observant? Derrick said that Fallon knows who Ruthie is so chances are she knows who he is, too. It would provide them with information and any information at this point could prove helpful.”
Camille closed her eyes, bringing Malcolm’s picture near her nose and inhaling, as if imbibing the essence of the man she believed had been Mathias in an earlier life. “What if it’s our destiny to be separated from each other? If what I believe is true, Malcolm spent the rest of his life searching for Cora. And she was already long gone. They lost each other then and I’ve lost Mathias now. Maybe that’s just our fate and I’m a fool to fight it. Oh Jesus, Tish…”
“No. Stop it. I don’t believe that. If that’s our fate, why would we remember what used to be?” I battled the memory of Fallon’s recorded message to Derrick – fate is with me, brother, as you’ll soon see.
Not if I can help it, you arrogant fucker, I thought to counteract the panic. I suddenly remembered something else. “When we were driving home from Montana on Sunday, Dad told me Franklin was expected at a benefit dinner this weekend. I can’t just sit here in Landon doing nothing, I’ll go nuts. What if I head to Chicago and find out what I can about the Yancys? I work for Ron in this timeline, it’s so fucked up, but it gives me another way in, a way to get information.”
Camille studied me closely; she knew me too well. “You can’t confront this Franklin by yourself, it’s way too dangerous. What if he actually shows up there? What would you possibly do?”
“Tell everyone what I know about him, for one thing. Whether he’s there or not, it’s a perfect opportunity to reveal all the Yancys’ dirty secrets.”
“What makes you think anyone would believe what you said about him? And you were the one who said Franklin was armed, Tish, you told me that yourself! What’s to prevent him from killing you on the spot? I won’t let you do this.”
“I’ll be there with Dad and Lanny, and probably Robbie, not to mention about a hundred other guests. It’s a benefit dinner, for Christ’s sake, a total dog-and-pony show, like Dad would say. No one is actually there because they give a shit about whatever the proceeds are going toward, they’re attending to see and be seen. What better occasion to let loose with big news like that?” My thoughts stormed, arcing like lightning to another point. “Besides, Derrick said Franklin is obsessed with causing pain. It would be a kindness in his eyes to kill me now, when he’s robbed me of the life I was supposed to live. And I want to get a read on Derrick. He doesn’t remember the real timeline but I’d bet damn good money he has the exact same chip on his shoulder in this one. I bet I can crack him.”
Camille chewed her lower lip, considering the likelihood of my theories proving true; I was heartened to see her coming around to my idea. “What should I do here, in the meantime?”
“Research. Keep looking for any information we could use. I won’t stay in Chicago any longer than the weekend,” I promised.
“Maybe we really can figure out a way to send a message. I’ll talk to Aunt Jilly tomorrow. Maybe it’s possible. I have to believe it’s possible. You’re right, dying would be a kindness right now, wouldn’t it?” She drew a shuddering breath. “My body is so different, Tish, it’s totally untouched. In this life I’ve never been pregnant. I’ve never nursed my babies. I’d rather die than live the rest of my life without Mathias and our children. They are my everything.”
“I love you,” I gulped,
