O livia and Mary Margaret pounced on Lizzie with even more enthusiasm than they’d shown the day before. “You’re here. You’re here.”
Lizzie remembered how Mother and Father had reacted the day before when she showed signs of confusion. No matter how she felt, she had to let things play out however they would, like a bad dream, until she could get back home. Which meant going along with whatever turn of events arose. She’d play her part.
Pasting a smile on her face, Lizzie forced a giggle. “Of course, I’m here. Where else would I be?”
She began tickling the girls until they rolled around on the bed with laughter. It helped to take their mind off of her leaving.
“I wondered what was going on.” Mother stood in the doorway, her hand clasping the wooden door as she peeked in on them. “It’s time to get ready for breakfast.”
“You heard Mother.” Lizzie straightened. “Go get ready for breakfast.”
“Are we going on another adventure today?” Olivia asked.
Her body stiffened. Was she expected to take care of the girls every day? They were adorable, but Lizzie needed some peace and quiet, time to figure out her problem.
“Maybe it would be better to take a break today. After all, we had a very long day yesterday.” Even Lizzie was tired.
“Aww.” The girls frowned.
“Go get dressed.” Lizzie ushered them to the door. “I’ve got to get ready, and Mother is going to be upset if our breakfast gets cold.”
After closing the door, Lizzie rummaged through the dresser drawers. Didn’t her great-great-grandmother own any pants? Lizzie remembered her great-grandmother telling her they didn’t have closets back then, so she checked the armoire. Dresses, and more dresses. The only time Lizzie usually wore a dress was for a special occasion, or maybe a sundress in the summer.
She opted for a short-sleeve, pale green dress that looked springy, and hurried downstairs for breakfast. Lizzie’s eyes widened when she saw a middle-aged woman in a white, ruffled apron, setting food on the table. They had a maid? For some reason, it made her smile. What she wouldn’t give for a maid in real life.
Thinking of home made her wonder if maybe she needed to go back to her great-grandmothers to get home. She wished either of her older brothers were here. They loved science fiction and were bound to be able to help her figure this out. For now, the only thing she could think of trying was to find the location she was in before she transported back in time.
Lizzie took her seat across from her sisters at the table. Their cook placed a plate with strawberry crepes and bacon in front of her. She took a deep breath to inhale the tantalizing smell and licked her lips. “Thank you. This looks delicious.”
“You’re welcome, miss.”
Smiling, Lizzie reached for her fork.
“Aren’t you going to wait for us to pray?” Olivia frowned at her.
“Sorry.” Lizzie laid her fork down and folded her hands. “I was anxious to eat so that I could run some errands.”
“You don’t really have time to go anywhere before church starts,” Father said.
“Church?” Lizzie blinked.
It was his turn to show his displeasure as his eyes narrowed and he gave her a stern look. “It is Sunday, and we always go to church.”
She started to speak, and clamped her mouth shut before telling them she normally went to church on Saturday night so that she could sleep in on Sunday. “I’m sorry. I have my days mixed up and obviously forgot today was Sunday.”
That seemed to appease Father to her relief.
The hard part would be facing a church full of strangers and pretending she knew people she’d never met before.
Lizzie also needed an excuse later to go exploring, so that she could try and find her great-grandmother’s house. “Will I be allowed to go for a walk alone today, or to do some sight-seeing?”
“Sightseeing?” Mother laughed. “You sound like you’re visiting somewhere new.”
To Lizzie, the past was new, and a little daunting.
The temperature was slightly cooler today, so Lizzie donned a jacket that reminded her of a tighter fitting sports coat that coordinated with her dress.
Mother had asked her about a hat, but Lizzie vehemently refused. She didn’t care if she looked like ‘a lady’ or not. As she stepped outside into the cool breeze, she envisioned Mother’s reaction if she could have seen Lizzie in a baseball cap and a pair of jeans with a hole in them.
Climbing into Father’s black Ford Model C car made her smile, and almost want to laugh. The car didn’t have a roof, or doors. It resembled a horse carriage, minus the horses, and had a small engine. So much for warming up the car before they went anywhere on a cold day. Then thoughts of snow and rain made her heart race. Please don’t let it rain today…and let me get back home, to my real home, Lizzie added to her prayer.
Olivia and Mary Margaret scooted into the backseat with her. Thankfully, they were small. Lizzie doubted three adults could fit in the back seat. Mother and Father would be surprised if they saw a modern-day minivan, not that they were planning to have any more children. “Can I ask a question?”
“Sure, dear.” Mother glanced over her shoulder at Lizzie.
“Why did you wait so long to have more children?”
“Elizabeth Ruth Ambrewster.” Father’s tone was curt.
The use of her full name, even if the last name wasn’t really hers, was evidence enough that she’d said something wrong.
Mother laid a hand on Father’s arm. A pained expression crossed his face.
“I’m sorry,” Lizzie said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s all right, dear.” Mother’s voice was soft. “People don’t generally talk about the children they lost before they were born, and it’s especially hard to talk about when you’ve lost three.”
Lizzie felt bad for bringing up such a delicate subject. People were more open to conversations in modern times, but they were still a sensitive subject, especially when someone had multiple miscarriages. She reached forward and laid a gentle hand on Mother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Mother patted her hand and nodded.
Father started the car and they rode to church in silence, not that they could have talked much over the sounds the car made, or noise of people using their horns for more than just warnings. Some people, including Father, beeped their horn to wave at someone they recognized walking, or driving down the road.
Butterflies danced in Lizzie’s stomach as they parked down the street from the white-paneled church. It looked familiar, like she’d ridden past it in the future, but it’d been renovated and added on to over the years. That was a good sign at least—that the church was bound to grow. However, right now, she only knew the people she was walking in the door with and it scared her.
“Lizzie, Lillian is waving at you.” Mother nudged her softly and nodded.
Lizzie followed her gaze. A bouncy blonde was smiling and waving wildly as she approached the Ambrewster family. Maybe if she had seen Lillian waving from the distance, the girl wouldn’t have felt the need to come over to them. Now, Lizzie would be forced to carry on a conversation. She pasted on a smile, and pretended she knew the girl.
“Hello, Lillian.” The less she said, the better.
“Hi, Lizzie.” Lillian giggled. “Can I borrow her for a few minutes, Mrs. Ambrewster?”
“By all means, just make sure you both make it back inside church on time.” Mother smiled. “We’ll be sitting in our usual seats, Lizzie.”
She assumed that was code for, you’re expected to sit with us. Lizzie nodded.
Lillian looped her arm through Lizzie’s and dragged her aside, away from earshot of anyone else.
Though startled, Lizzie obliged, leaning her head away from Lillian’s frilly white hat. “I assume you wanted to tell me something?”
The girl stopped and leaned closer to Lizzie, practically squealing in her ear. “There’s a new boy in church today and he is absolutely delightful.”
Lizzie laughed. Not at the prospect of meeting a new boy, but at the way Lillian referenced him.
“Let me guess,” Lizzie said, “you think he’s cute and you want me to help find a way for you to meet him?”
“I wish.” Lillian sighed. “From what I can tell, he’s here to see you and looks quite dapper in his blue pinstripe suit.”
“Me?” Lizzie’s voice squeaked. Who in the world would be here to see her? Her expression sobered as a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Did her great-great-grandmother have a boyfriend? Lizzie could muddle her way through some things but pretending to be infatuated with some guy she didn’t know was not one of them.
“There you are.”
Lizzie didn’t have to turn around to recognize that playfully seductive voice. “Are you stalking me?”
“Excuse me?” Jeremiah came into view, looking at her with squinted eyes and a half-smile. “Is it wrong to want to find you so that I could apologize?”
“Church is the place for forgiveness.” Lillian smiled, giggling like a nervous school girl.
“Why are you rolling your eyes?” Jeremiah’s brows furrowed. “At least that’s what it looks like you are doing.”
She almost chuckled. Her mother accused her of doing that on numerous occasions.
“I’m sorry.” Lizzie sighed. “And Lillian is right, I shouldn’t hold a grudge. It’s not my place to judge how many women you flirt with.”
“I don’t flirt.” A flicker of pain shone in his brown eyes. “I have to be polite to people when I’m working.”
“Which includes going home to dinner with them?” She could hear the accusation in her own tone. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business what you do on your free time.” Guilt niggled her. “And I appreciate you taking a good part of your day yesterday to help me and my sisters. That was very kind of you.”
Jeremiah smiled. “You can be the most infuriating and quizzical woman all in the same breath.”
“And yet you’re smiling.” Lizzie grinned. Men in this era were an odd bunch. She found it hard to remain upset with him, even though her head knew she had no reason to be upset to begin with. He had a certain charm. “So, tell me, Jeremiah. What brought you to our church today?”
“You.” His brown eyes held her captive.
Her breath caught. “How did you know I would be here—at this church?”
“Fate.”
Lizzie’s cheeks warmed.
“We’d better hurry in or we’ll be late for service.” Lillian nudged Lizzie. “And I promised your mother we would be on time.”
“Shall we?” Jeremiah extended the crook of his arm for Lizzie to hold onto as they walked.
That was one thing she wished men still did today, well, in modern times. She liked the close, almost possessive feeling of walking into church on his arm. It didn’t escape her attention that a couple girls gasped, envy evident on several girl’s faces.
A rush of exhilaration coursed through her. Lizzie reminded herself that she and Jeremiah were only friends, and to think otherwise was foolish. He had a charismatic way that made girls swoon. She wasn’t feeble, or easily charmed.
Lizzie leaned closer to Jeremiah and lowered her voice. “My parents are over there.”
He followed the direction of her nod, stopping at the end of the pew. He allowed her to slide in next to her family before taking a seat next to her. Jeremiah leaned forward and reached in front of her to shake Father’s hand. “Hello. Nice to meet you, Sir. I’m Jeremiah Hopkins.”
Music began to play as people bustled toward their seats.
Father shook his hand. “I look forward to speaking with you after service.”
Jeremiah leaned back in his seat and winked at Lizzie.
Her heart pounded, reminding her that she was still breathing—albeit a little breathlessly.