Timeless

CHAPTER 40

“G ood morning,” Quinn said as she stood in the doorway to Abby’s office, holding two cups of coffee. “I brought you this.”

“It’s morning?” Abby asked more herself than Quinn and ran both of her hands over her face. “Wow! Did I wake you up?”

“About four hours ago, yeah. I woke up when you weren’t in bed and found you here, but I let you write and fell back asleep.” Quinn walked into the office and set the coffee on the desk. “I assume this is part of it, too, huh?”

“What?”

“Waking up and you being in your office, writing, instead of in bed.” Quinn leaned down and kissed her quickly.

“Not usually. I just felt something and came in here, knowing that I had to write it.”

“Cheryl and Diana?”

“No, actually. I know their names now.”

“Who?”

“The first couple,” she replied before she picked up her coffee and took a sip. “This is perfect. How did you know how to make this for me?”

“I didn’t. I just added the creamer you had in the fridge and hoped for the best. Did you get any sleep at all?” Quinn leaned back against Abby’s desk.

“A few hours before I woke up. But, Quinn, I know their names.”

“You said that, babe. I take it, you’re dying to tell me what you wrote?”

“Yes.”

“Can you do it over breakfast? ”

“I don’t think I have any breakfast food here. Cereal, maybe. I usually skip it.”

“We can go to the diner, then. I’m ordering a big stack of buttermilk pancakes with a side of bacon. What are you getting?”

“Can I share your pancakes?”

“Nope.” Quinn winked at her. “But I’ll buy you a stack of your own. Come on. Let’s get dressed, babe. I’m borrowing clothes because I’m not wearing what I wore yesterday.” Quinn held out her hands for Abby to take, which she did.

They changed, and as excited as Abby was to tell Quinn what she’d uncovered during the night, she also understood that Quinn was trying to make this a normal morning for them, given their not-so-normal relationship, so she was quiet in the car as Quinn sang along to some pop song and held her hand. She laughed a little at Quinn’s antics, and when they pulled into the diner’s parking lot, she got out of the car, ready to spit out the whole story.

They were sat at the only empty booth in the place and were handed menus. Quinn didn’t look at hers, though, and just set it down on the table.

“Okay. Go. I know you can’t wait until after we order.”

“What are you talking about? I can wait. I’m just sitting over here, reading my menu.”

“Sure, you are.” Quinn laughed and pulled down on the menu blocking Abby’s face from her view. “Hi, beautiful. Care to tell me their names now?”

“Agnes and Frances.”

“Agnes and Frances? Which one was I?”

“Frances,” she said. “I was Agnes.”

“Well, all right, Agnes,” Quinn teased. “What did you discover?”

“They would’ve been born in the late 1400s. They met in 1507, just before Agnes was about to marry some guy her father picked for her.”

“I assume she had to marry him?”

“No, actually. They ran,” she replied .

“What can I get you?” their waitress asked as she approached, holding her notepad and pen at the ready.

“Pancakes and bacon for me. Coffee as well,” Quinn said.

“Uh… Yeah. That.” Abby pointed to Quinn.

“So, pancakes, bacon, and coffee?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“I’ll have that coffee right out,” the woman replied and walked off.

“Anyway, they ran away,” Abby continued.

“What about my family? Or Frances’s, I guess?”

“They’d all died. She was basically alone. She was a few years older than Agnes, and her uncle wanted to marry her off, too, so she ran. She lived on her own in the woods and met Agnes that way. I wrote their meeting. You can read it when we get home, if you want. Well, you should because it’s how you and I began.”

“No, you and I began when you walked into my shop. Or, technically, last night, when we kissed for the first time.”

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. But I still think it’s important to treat us as a separate couple, Abs.”

“You’re right,” she said with a nod. “And I didn’t get much from them. It’s like, there were a few parts that I could see, but huge chunks in the middle and at the end are still missing. It’s definitely not enough to write a whole book about them, but they loved each other enough to run away together and live completely alone for however long they had before they died.”

“How did they create all of this?” Quinn asked.

Their waitress arrived with a coffee carafe and two mugs before Abby could answer. Then, without saying anything, the woman walked away again.

“Agnes felt something when they were trying to get away. It was like wind knocked her over or something.”

“And?” Quinn began doctoring her coffee.

“And you know how in movies or books, there’s always this one moment that creates some sort of ripple effect? ”

“I guess so.”

“What if Frances knocking Agnes’s brother out with a two-by-four did that? They’d only just met, but Frances loved her from the beginning. Maybe hitting him and taking Agnes away from it all was what started this whole chain of events.”

“You really think that?”

“I don’t know anything else. Later, that brother shows back up, and before they have to run again, Frances stabs him to keep him from taking Agnes back.”

“I killed someone?”

“No, he was fine. Or, at least, I assume he was, but she hurt him in order to give them time to get away. When you walked in with coffee this morning, I’d just written that part. I suppose that could’ve been the moment, too. I don’t know.”

“What happened next?”

“I don’t know. You walked in, but I didn’t see anything after they rode off again. It felt like they were safe – like, really safe, for good – but I didn’t see anything else.”

“And you’re sure they were the first?” Quinn asked and took a sip of her coffee.

“It feels like that way, yes. And they also don’t reference feeling like there was anyone before them. You know what, though?” She smiled at Quinn.

“What?”

“Agnes favored honeysuckle.”

Quinn smiled and said, “Oh, yeah?”

“Their first home was in a field of wildflowers. It was nice: a little one-room cabin that they built together. Then, the world started getting smaller and smaller around them. When Edward showed up, acting like the dick that he was, they had to run again, but I feel like they landed somewhere else and probably stayed there until they died.”

“How old were they when you last saw them?”

Abby thought back in her mind and did some math.

“In their early thirties. I don’t know how old Frances was, but Agnes would’ve been thirty-two, I think.”

“People didn’t live very long then, so maybe they made it wherever they were going and lived out the rest of their lives together.”

Abby smiled and said, “Yeah, maybe. I hope so, anyway.”

“Where was it? It wasn’t America, was it?”

“I got the impression that they weren’t here, and it was pretty early in America’s history. They were Caucasian, in my mind, at least, but that’s hard because they look like us to me, so I don’t really know for sure. I’d say maybe somewhere in England, but I never hear accents or other languages. Do you?”

“No. Always English and never any accents. Maybe it’s so we can understand the visions and the voices.”

“Maybe,” she replied, and before she could reach for coffee, Quinn took the carafe and poured it for her. “You’re like this in every version of you.”

“I’m like what?” Quinn asked.

“You always want to take care of me.”

“I thought we already talked about how I’m the stud in this relationship.” Quinn winked at her.

“Relationship, huh?”

“Oh, don’t go acting like you’re not already my girlfriend, Abs. We can pretend to just date, if you’re scared of calling yourself that – it’s okay – but I’m not going to date anyone else, and I don’t think you’re going to, either. So, yeah, we’re in a relationship.”

“Well, thanks for telling me,” Abby joked.

“You knew already, Abs. You knew this was going to happen the moment you walked into my shop and saw me behind the counter, didn’t you?”

“I knew you were hot.” She shrugged. “Don’t get a big head about it.”

Quinn laughed and said, “I want to do this right, babe. I had a great time last night. I don’t want us to skip any parts because we’ve been together before, you know?”

“So, you want another date with your new girlfriend?” Abby asked and took a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah, I do. Tonight? ”

“I can do tonight. I’ll probably be figuring out how to write two books at once until then because my brain can’t process anything other than Deb and Harriet’s and Cheryl and Diana’s stories.”

“What about Agnes and Frances?”

“I don’t think I’m going to get anything more from them. At least, not right now. I want to go back to Deb and Harriet, though, and not just because my publisher is waiting for more pages.”

Quinn leaned forward and asked, “Hey, I was thinking about something when I was making coffee this morning. How did the book that Cheryl and Diana wrote together end up in a farmhouse owned by Deb and Harriet? I haven’t seen anything more of them to know. Have you?”

“No. The last I saw of them was when they visited here and saw Paul. It looked like they just left town after that, but I didn’t see that part, exactly.”

“Then, they had to have come back here at some point. Or, they’d seen Paul again, at least, and he’d put it there in the box. The realtor said that it was in the attic or something, if I remember right. It was with the other–”

“What?”

“Babe, there were more photos. Some were solid black because they were old or not taken care of, but there were more than the two you took. I got excited about the book last night, but–”

“Your pancakes with a side of bacon,” the waitress announced as she set their plates down in front of them.

“I’m so sorry… Can we get some to-go containers?” Quinn asked.

“Quinn, no,” Abby said. “We’re okay. Thank you,” she added to the waitress.

“All right. Enjoy your breakfast.” The woman walked off.

“Abs, we can take our breakfast to the shop and check out the other pictures.”

“Quinn, we keep doing this.”

“Doing what? ”

“Trying to focus on us and getting sidetracked by all of them.”

“I’m sorry; aren’t you the chief investigator out of the two of us?”

“First of all, I love that nickname, so call me that any time. But, second, the pictures will still be there after we eat, and I can go to the shop with you to check them out before I go home to write.”

“You’re right,” Quinn replied with a nod. “It’s just still so new to me. We were all these other women at some point, and they always found each other. Although, it’s not like there are pictures in there of Agnes and Frances or even the Spanish princess and her wife… Only a few of the couples probably even got a chance to take a photo together. Still, it’s very tempting to go see them, to try to keep piecing together this timeline. We didn’t even read the book yet to see what Cheryl and Diana had discovered. We were supposed to do that this morning.”

“You wanted pancakes and bacon,” Abby replied. “And you should have your pancakes and bacon. The book isn’t going anywhere, either.”

“I wish I could just close the shop for the day, but it’s one of only a couple of busy days I might get in a week. Is it okay if we look at the pictures first before I close up later and come over to your place? We can go through the book then.”

“You don’t want to go out somewhere?”

“We can go out for dinner and maybe something after that, but then, your place.”

“You’re staying over again, huh?” Abby said.

“Yeah. I should probably tell you that now, shouldn’t I?”

“Just pack a bag this time. My clothes are a little small on you.”

“Hey!”

“What? You’re taller than me.” Abby laughed. “And you’re also skinnier, so shut up.”

“I love your curves,” Quinn said. “And I’d like to kiss all of them tonight since last night, you kept me north of your boobs.”

Abby laughed again. She was already falling in love with Quinn Jordan, and she knew it. Their shared past aside, she knew these feelings were real. And they were for Quinn only, not Harriet, Frances, or any of the others. Quinn was kind, caring, smart, funny, and so very beautiful that Abby just wanted to tell her already that she loved her. Still, Quinn was right earlier: they should do this right. They should go on dates and make sure that they were compatible in this lifetime before either of them said those words, almost especially because of their past lives together.

“Want the strawberry syrup?” Quinn asked her after pouring some of the stuff on her own pancakes.

“Gross. No. That’s not real strawberry. It’s just all sugar.”

“So? It tastes good.”

“I don’t think I can date you if you’re a sugar addict. You’ll be a bad influence on me.”

“Are you a health nut, and I just didn’t see it? I seem to recall you enjoying Alfredo sauce and garlic bread last night.”

“Carbs are my friend. Sugar is fine in moderation.”

“So, you won’t even use the maple syrup?”

“I usually just eat my pancakes with butter only.”

“Oh, we can’t do this, then.” Quinn sat back and shook her head. “That’s a red flag if I’ve ever heard of one.”

Abby laughed and said, “So, if I don’t put syrup on my pancakes, we’re breaking up already?”

“I think so, Abs.”

“Do our past lives together not mean anything to you?” she joked.

Quinn laughed and said, “Just take a bite of mine, and we’ll live to fight about sugar another day.” She cut a piece of her pancake and held out the fork.

“Are we going to be the kind of couple to feed each other in public?” Abby asked.

“Yeah. You can feed me something at dinner tonight. Come on. ”

Abby leaned forward and took the pancake off the fork. Then, she licked her lips and wiggled her eyebrows at Quinn.

“Oh, you tease,” Quinn said with a laugh.

Yeah, Abby was falling in love with Quinn Jordan, and oddly, it felt like the start of any other relationship where two people were meant to be. Sure, they were still getting to know each other, and there were many things left to talk about, but Abby had those butterflies and all the nerves and excitement bundled up inside her whenever she just thought of Quinn. While many people said that this was the best part of love, the falling part, Abby somehow knew that the best parts of their love were still ahead of them, and for once, not knowing the path or what would happen didn’t scare her. It felt right.