At about two in the morning I heard quiet sounds from the kitchen. I felt on Magnus’s side of the bed. It was empty. I pulled on a t-shirt and pajama bottoms and crept into the living room. Magnus was sitting at the kitchen counter while Zach and Emma were washing our dishes and straightening up from our earlier meal. They were telling Magnus about their evening out.

It was a lovely domestic scene, warm and comfortable, and it came to me finally, truly, how hard it must be for Magnus to leave. This was his home now. I could see it in the casual comfortable curve of his wounded back. Wounds that had been inflicted in his past. He was talking to Chef Zach, his second most favorite person in the world. He was hours away from leaving, yet up, sitting in the kitchen, talking a last long goodbye. I joined him at the counter.

Zach greeted me with, “Flavor?”

I chose chocolate chunk with drizzled caramel. My bowl held two enormous scoops. Magnus’s bowl held a gigantic banana split. He face was covered in a wide grin. “I have asked Chef Zach tae surprise me with ice cream and he created this masterpiece.”

Zach said, “Hopefully, this will tide you over while you’re away.”

“I wish it were so, but tis impossible tae tide m’self when I’m surrounded with dry bread and porridges. I’ll miss ice cream a great deal.”

“When you return, we should make it. I’ll get a churn and you can see the magic of it.”

Emma said, “Ooh, or one of those balls. You make ice cream by rolling a ball back and forth.”

Zach said, “Definitely, when you come home we’ll have an ice cream party.”

Magnus and I ate our dessert and listened to stories about the Greene family dinner they had just attended. Apparently it was awful, Zach and Michel’s parents were putting the pressure on Michael to marry Haley.

I said, “Real pressure, like in the middle of dinner?”

“Yep, telling him to get real and marry her already.”

“Haley must have been freaking out.”

Magnus asked, “But nae ye, Chef Zach? Ye haena married Emma. . . ”

Zach said, “Well… about that. You see, we aren’t getting married, but she’s um, pregnant.”

Magnus jumped from his chair. “Congratulations! Twill be a bairn! Tis braw, verra braw.” Magnus swept Zach up into a manly hug and then Emma. Then I hugged Zach and Emma and joked that Emma should be eating the ice cream instead of me.

She said, “Ugh, I can’t keep anything down right now.”

Zach said, “I know this complicates things — we live here rent free, and a baby is — we’ll look for an apartment nearby, but we would like to continue to work for you, Magnus, sir.”

Magnus scowled. “I canna understand your words Chef Zach, you art a member of my family. Do I nae pay ye enough?”

Zach said, “You pay me plenty. I just—“

Magnus squinted and shook his head. “In the Highlands if a man lives on the land of another, he is as family. I winna force ye tae leave because of a baby. Tis madness tae suggest it.”

I put a hand on Magnus’s arm to stay him. “What Magnus is saying, I believe, is that you, Emma, and the baby, are all welcome to continue living here. If you want to. If you think you’d rather have your own private home, we will help in any way. Magnus would, of course, like it if you can feed him ice cream in the middle of the night, possibly forever, but you might need to feed a baby in the middle of the night instead. You and Emma can think of this as your home, but talk it over and do what you think is right in the long run. Also, do you have health insurance through the temp agency, and is it good enough? We might need to go ahead and make you a full-time employee. I’ll research the smartest way to handle that.” I grabbed a pad of paper and started a list, my third of the day.

At the end of our middle of the night snack, Zach and Emma departed for their bed and Magnus and I went to our room. But it was hard to think about sleeping even though it was very late, or early, depending on your perspective. He climbed into bed, held up an arm, and I curled up under it. And we talked.

He began with, “What did ye mean when ye said ‘health’ tae Zach?”

“Health insurance, it pays the medical bills for the hospital care. It’s kind of confusing, but it’s the employer’s duty to provide it.”

“Aye. I would like for Chef Zach and Emma tae have it, whatever they need. Do ye believe they need bigger rooms?”

“Probably, we could give them Lady Mairead’s rooms, they’re much bigger.”

“Aye, and health assurance. We pay them enough?”

“He says we do. I don’t think they were able to get married before, and now they can. I think it’s good.”

“Quentin as well, he is a good man. I would like him tae have health assurances as well.”

“Of course.”

“There is enough money?”

“I was going to ask you about that. There are paintings, in the office. I think they belonged to Lady Mairead, I was thinking about getting them appraised — do you know where they’re from?”

“She journeyed for them. I would assume they are verra valuable. She studied a great deal.”

“Okay, I’ll locate an art dealer then.” I twisted the cloth of his shirt around my index finger. “Magnus?”

“Aye?”

“My phone number is 310-499-2398. Can you repeat it back to me?”

He did.

I made him repeat it four more times. “You know your address here?”

“Aye. But why do ye want me tae know of this?”

“Because wherever you come back to, I want you to be able to find me. If you end up anywhere in the world, ask someone to call me for you.”

“What if tis a different time?”

What if it was a different time?

“Do you remember my maiden name?”

He repeated it, “Kaitlyn Sheffield.”

I traced a circle around on his chest. Connecting the dots, building a map to find me. “I was born in 1995. I lived with my parents here in Fernandina beach, Florida, until I was 18. Then I moved to Tallahassee Florida and went to college. In 2014 I moved to Los Angeles, California. I lived there until this summer, 2017.” I tried to think of what else I could tell him, to solidify it in his mind. It was simply abstract dates and names, no way to reference it for him.

“My parents, Paige and John Sheffield have lived here since 1990. My grandparents, Jack and Barbara Sheffield, live in Orono Maine. Can you remember all of this?”

“I will.”

“Good.”

And we lay there — I reminded him of numbers and dates and told him histories of my life and the others close to me. He repeated softly spoken assurances that somehow, journeying through space and time, using a technology he didn’t understand — he would find me again.

The guy from the 1700s. The early 1700s. Born in the 1600s, would find me.

Though he couldn’t even grasp the tech of a cell phone.

Though FaceTime freaked him out.

He promised me he would. In the softly growing light of a sunrise sky through our wall of windows on his last night in September 2017 — he promised me.