I still didn’t have a phone because so far I had done all of this just to get in the front door of my house.

Next, I needed to get my stuff or at least my clothes from storage. Then I needed to talk to Zach. I opened the front door of my house.

It contained the furniture it came with. Empty, dark, too cold, lifeless, and spooky. I walked around. The dressers were all empty. Everything looked realtor-staged, and frankly I did not like being here by myself.

Okay, first I needed to talk to Zach.

I showed up at the place he was living unannounced. The curtain slid away from the window when I knocked, and then Zach opened the door and gruffly said, “Come in.” He dropped to the couch and put on his shoes.

I stood in the middle of the room. It was dark. The television flickered. Beer cans were crumpled on the floor. A bong stood on the side table. The curtains were closed. Sheets and a pillow were rumpled on the couch.

“Where’s Emma?”

He continued tying his shoes without looking up. “At her parents’ house, in Gainesville. You know — this isn’t really the kind of place for a pregnant girl, so yeah, I’m trying to make some money so we can get our own place.”

He stood and grabbed his keys, “I need to head into work soon though, so—“

“Zach, I am so sorry. I am — I don’t know how to express to you, the amount of sorry.”

“Hey, that’s cool. It was just a job right?”

“No, it wasn’t just a job. Magnus thinks of you like family and—“

Zach jiggled the keys and looked down at me. “Yeah, well, family lets us down a lot. I’m used to taking care of my own shit. Did you need something? Is that why you came by?”

“Zach, please, sit down so we can talk, please.”

He sank onto the couch without a word. I perched on the edge of the recliner beside it. Now that I had his ear for a moment I didn’t know where to begin. I kind of hoped he would’ve been so excited to see me that he just hugged me hello and came back to work. It didn’t seem like it was going that way.

He started with. “When did you get back?”

“Last night. I — I was gone for like — three days.”

He looked at me with his face screwed up incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

“I went back in time to sometime in the early seventeen hundreds, and I was there for four days. I just barely escaped back here and landed in the marsh I might add — that was wet, totally sucked. And guess what? My house was all closed up. You had been laid off, and I’m really sorry.”

“You feel like you were only gone for three days?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I had no idea so much time was passing. And — in hindsight, I should have paperwork lawyered-up that makes sure you have a job in my absence. But the truth is there won’t be another time because that? It sucked, hard, awful, death-defying.”

“Where’s Magnus?”

“He didn’t make it out. I don’t know. Last I saw of him he was fighting two men, and I don’t know if he survived it. Plus, I took the only time-traveling thingamajig, so he doesn’t have a way to get here — I don’t mean to talk just about what I went through though — how’s Emma, how’s the baby?”

“They’re fine, the pregnancy is going okay, but Emma’s pretty stressed out. Her parents have never really liked me, so my jobless ass has been proving them right.”

“You have a job. You’re the private chef to Magnus Campbell and his wife, Kaitlyn. And I’ll get you health insurance. I know I said I would, but I mean it. I’m going to be better at this. I’ll run the place like it matters.”

“It was pretty tough there. Your mom is kind of a bitch. I kept telling her you wanted me to stay on. That you wanted me and Emma to take care of the place, but she threatened to call the cops and—“

“Yeah, I know, it must have super-sucked. Do you need like extra combat pay or something? What can I do? Magnus thinks the world of you, really. I mean, I think he likes me okay, but when he’s in Scotland all he talks about is your cooking and how much he misses it. And what I’m figuring out is that he hasn’t really had a home, or a family. I met his stepfather, it was not good. You and I are it. Quentin. Emma. The baby — when you guys become parents. I hope he comes home, and I need you to be there when he does, because he would be really sad without you.”

Zach chuckled. “He really loves my cooking, huh?”

“You know he does. This is not new information. You were right. My mom was wrong. I wish I had a crystal ball to see in the future, that I needed a contract for ‘in case I disappeared for four months,’ but I didn’t, because crystal balls like time machines aren’t based in reality. So there’s this: I screwed up, and it sucked. Please come work for us again. I’ll write up contracts. I’m going to behave more like a grown up, the matriarch of our family. And you can have combat pay.”

“I get paid enough — it’s just the job, the health insurance, some stability, a place.” He looked around at the trashed apartment.

“It’s yours. Just please come home. Right now. Because I’m hungry.” I laughed. And Zach laughed. He checked his cell phone. I have to work. I’m a line cook. I barely make enough to pay my cell phone bill.”

“Can you quit, now?”

“I should probably be a grown up and quit after my shift.”

“We should probably both be grown ups, huh? Do you want me to go rescue Emma?”

“No, I’ll drive down tomorrow morning. I’ll go to church with her parents. It’s a small thing that I’ve been slack about doing. Then I’ll rescue her.” He grinned.

“So you’re saying I’m on my own tonight?”

He nodded.

“Fine,” I joked. “I can make my own ice cream.” I walked to the door. “Thank you for telling my folks it was rehab, that was perfect. And I really will make this up to you, I promise.”

I got into my car and looked down at my list. I would need to talk to Quentin, possibly through a lawyer, and even with the best of intentions he might be stuck in jail. That would have to wait for the work week, probably.

Everyone would help me move my stuff back tomorrow. They were all busy tonight.

Haley said I was invited if I wanted to come. I would spend a few hours in my empty house and decide how I felt about that.