Cora

A month ago, Cora didn’t think there was anything more important than attending a ball in Victorian England. But tonight, she just wanted it over. The excitement of her friends to return home didn’t touch her. The orchestra played. The people danced, and a few possible matches were made.

During the midnight supper, Cora spoke quickly to May as soon as the men went to retrieve their plates. “You travel between here and there frequently. How does it work?”

“Remember that night we met at Nellie’s ball a month ago, just after you arrived? I wasn’t there for the midnight supper because I left to the future.”

Cora could feel her eyebrows lower as she tried to understand what May was saying.

“I had a summer term to complete for an August graduation.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Cora shook her head and tried to imagine how that worked.

“Yes, it does if time is a fuzzball. I met you at the ball.” May checked around the room to see if the men were returning yet, then leaned closer to Cora. “Just before midnight, I left for three months. Then I came back the same day of the ball. It was shortly after you met my mother.”

Cora’s fingertips pressed on her temples as she considered what she’d heard.

May continued. “You have to let go of the timeline concept. I’m an RN now. That was my last term. I’ve never left this century for more than a few hours, but I’ve spent years in the other one, too.”  

“Maybe if I try to think of it as a loop. You left on a three-month loop, then came back to the point you left.” May bobbed her head, and Cora continued. “Congratulations. That’s some major work. You’re probably exhausted living two lives, but you have a promising future in whichever time you live in.”

“I don’t feel like I’m living two lives—just mine. This is only different for you. It’s normal for me. The two centuries don’t have to sync. When I’m gone for three months, I age that much even though I return the same night in the past. The people who know me here think I’m twenty-two, but if I add in the four years my bachelor’s degree took, I’m really twenty-six.” May’s gaze left Cora’s, and Cora knew she was watching Saalfeld.

May’s voice took on a yearning quality. “I’ve lived this way for a long time. Like you, each full moon, I have another decision to make. Do I stay or do I go? Where will I make my life?” May reached for Cora’s hands folded in her lap and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I imagine you’re starting to think on that decision yourself.”

“How did you decide?”

“I haven’t.” There was sorrow in May’s eyes, and Cora noticed her blinking rapidly. “It seems my head is there, and my heart is here. Sometimes it feels like I’m being pulled apart.”

The longing in her gaze toward Saalfeld was apparent. She hadn’t decided—that must be why May held him a little farther away from her heart than Cora thought she really wanted to. It was like a wound that opened as the moon waxed stronger.

May sat up straighter. “It’s a full moon tonight.” She didn’t elaborate.

She knows I’m having to make the same decision she’s had to make for the past few years. Like the tide, it pulls on you until you make the decision to stay or go.

“I’m leaving here during a ball, and I’ll arrive there during a ball. Such a happy coincidence of the universe.” Cora could tell that her voice sounded more strained than happy. Maybe May wouldn’t notice.

May shook her head. “Nellie has a ball on every full moon. They’re her way of saying ‘bon voyage’ to anyone coming or going. The woman loves her job.”

“Are you going?” Cora asked.

“Not tonight. I’m officially on summer vacation. At some point, I think I’ll take a graduation trip but not until I’m rested and can really enjoy it.”

The men returned, and their table filled with polite dinner conversation.

After the apple tart was served, May said something to the group about needing Cora to help her with her hem, and they left the supper together but parted company in the foyer after a quick hug. Cora had no desire to say any parting words. She supposed that was because she’d made the decision to stay—for now.

“I’ll see you here or there.” May turned toward the ladies’ retiring room.

From the staircase, Cora saw her friends excusing themselves from their parties. She lifted her skirts and took the stairs two at a time. She needed a moment to talk with Aunt Nellie before the others arrived.

She burst into the room and heard Nellie yip with surprise from beside the door.

“Have you decided, then?” she asked as she looked to be nearly bouncing out of her slippers with excitement.

Cora didn’t have time to consider why Nellie asked that or what more she might know but instead said, “Yes. I’m staying for now, but I don’t want the others to know.”

Aunt Nellie’s face lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “That’s easy. Just don’t fall back.” Just then the door opened, and her friends entered.

Cora looked at the group and at Nellie. She would have to ask if she would be able to take Simon to the future. The possibilities flooded her mind. She wouldn’t leave him behind. He could have the best that modern medicine had to offer—he might get his hearing back, if that was something he wanted to pursue.

“We’ve just a moment to get this done,” Nellie said, glancing at an hourglass on the table, the top precariously low on sand. “Stand before your portrait please.” She shooed them into place near the wall. “We don’t have any stowaways, do we?” She chuckled at those words.

Cora felt a twist of worry in her stomach. Was she making the right choice? Her heart answered yes, a thousand times yes.

“Not to worry now. I haven’t blown anything up in three days.” Aunt Nellie chuckled. “I also haven’t tried to send anything to another time that hadn’t first traveled here on its own. I haven’t mastered that yet.”

“We were arm in arm when we fell through the portrait the first time. Do we need to do that this time?” Cyrus asked.

“No, this time you have a bookmark of sorts to get you back to the same time and place together.” Nellie nervously looked at the hourglass. “Hurry now. Closer to the wall.” She pulled her waist purse open and gathered a handful of glowing dust, and then fisted her other hand into the pouch to get more. “Now, stand on one foot and place the other on the wall. When the light flashes, you’ll fall to the future.” She had a little sentimental look to her when she added, “I suppose I’ll see you there.”

Cora shifted, but she didn’t place her foot on the wall. Her long dress concealed her ruse.

Aunt Nellie cupped her hands together and squished them as if she was making a snowball. Only a few grains of magic escaped her grasp and trickled toward the carpet, their light blinking out as they fell. The ball in her hands glowed, intensifying with each compression of her palms. Soon Nellie’s hands began to glow as well, then her arms, then her entire body. “Here you go!” she shouted. Holding the tiny pulsing inferno in one hand, she clapped it solidly with the other. Lightning radiated from the collision, and blazing light flooded the room.

When she pushed her hands toward the group, a burst of magic blew past Cora, and her friends seemed to melt into the mural like flaming molecules at light speed.

They were gone. Aunt Nellie brushed her hands together, residual dust falling away.

“Will they know I’m not there?” Cora asked.

“Not if your plan continues to the end, but that remains to be determined by your choices. Myself in the future will take care of what they need to know if anything at all.” Nellie smiled and hooked Cora by the elbow. “Now, let’s return to the dance and that handsome man of yours. Shall we?”

They passed by a few painting supplies still on a table. Cora noticed a faint glow from a bowl.

“Oh, dear. I have a little magic left over.” Nellie pinched some dust between her finger and thumb and began sprinkling it on the table in the shape of a square. “You might need a wee bit later.” When Nellie waved her hand over the shape, a small purse lay on the tabletop. She scooped it up and dumped the magic dust from the bowl into it. “For privacy, you know.” She winked at Cora and gave her the purse. Then Nellie dumped the rest of the dust into her own pocket.

“I do look forward to seeing Kaitlyn, Reese, Cyrus, and Jem,” Aunt Nellie said.

Cora’s thoughts twisted, knowing that although they’d just seen them, her friends were a couple of centuries away by now and already being greeted by the modern Aunt Nellie, who will not have seen them in over a century since the time today when she sent them back. Crazy.

Nellie’s excited chatter continued as they descended. “This is the night, you know? Such a big decision. The kind that changes lives—yours and his. That seems like a lot of pressure. Oh, but don’t let that worry you. In fact, forget I ever said that. You’ll do what you must. And so will he. It will all turn out tip-top in the end.”

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to send someone like your experiment?” Cora asked.

“Perhaps,” Nellie answered.

When they entered the ballroom, Simon was standing close to the door. Cora could see several mothers and daughters conveniently nearby in case he glanced in their direction, allowing them to approach or to speak to him. But he didn’t move until he saw her, then he extended his arms to both Cora and Nellie. After a few steps, Nellie muttered what must have been an excuse to leave, and Simon and Cora continued their walk across the room.

“What if I were to claim a third dance?” he asked without stopping. “I didn’t plan tonight well. I should have saved one for after supper. I regret my greed at spending both my dances with you before. I blame the orchestra. Who would have guessed there would be two waltzes?”

Cora’s heart flipped. It was an excellent argument and reasonable, too. She smiled, remembering his arms around her and her hand in his but still shook her head slightly. “Your mother might have apoplexy. I’d hate to cause her harm.”

“Perhaps a stroll in the garden, then?” he offered. “Or would you rather stay and dance?”

Her fingers put slight pressure on his forearm, and she smiled up at him. “I haven’t a desire to dance with anyone else.” Cora thought it a very pointed answer, but it was true. “If your dances are spent, then mine are, too.”

Simon’s eyes looked at her softly. It was like he was finally at peace with his place in her life. His smile was warm as he led her through the French doors to the veranda and down the steps to the back lawn. Lamps dotted the entire field and illuminated dozens of benches set about for guests to use to escape the crush of the ballroom or the heat the crowding caused. There were hordes of people socializing there, too.

“Maybe we could sit and talk.” Cora pointed to a remote bench being vacated by a couple. When they arrived, Simon gave her a moment to settle her skirt before he sat beside her. As she looked back toward the house, Cora saw Nellie on the veranda blowing dust toward them. The tiny particles glided around them on the windless night, and the crowds moved away to the other side of the lawn.

He didn’t say a word, but Simon took her hand in his, and Cora leaned toward him. The moon shone like molten silver behind thin clouds, a sterling medallion high in the night sky. Simon leaned across Cora and tugged one small swath of hair from behind her ear, easing it out of the pins that held it, and twisted it around his finger before he let it fall over her left shoulder.

His finger grazed her neck, trailing wonderful chills down her spine and sparking in her stomach. “It’s called a love-lock, though I don’t know why.” He began winding the tendril on his finder again. “You’ve worn one before. I liked it on you. Very much.” He twisted the length of it. “It teased me all through dinner that night. I wanted to curl it around my finger.”

She held very still, almost afraid to breathe, as Simon’s finger twirled its way out of her hair again, leaving a perfect ringlet.

“Did you receive my invitation?” Simon asked, his face very close to hers.

“Yes,” Cora answered without offering any other information. She was fairly certain that Nellie had ensured their privacy moments ago. Were she to kiss him, no one would be the wiser.

“And are you coming?” he asked.

“I sent you a reply. You’ll have to read it yourself to know. If I say now, I’ll spoil your anticipation for the letter.” She kissed his cheek and stood. “Shall we stroll?”

He stood beside her, and they walked along the rose path.