Time After Time (25 page)

Anna’s house is the color it should be in 1995.

Without giving myself time to process any more information than that, I race around the corner, fly up the front steps, and knock hard on her front door. My mouth is still dry and my head is a little foggy. I can feel the sweat on my brow even though my shoes are covered with fresh snow. But when the door swings open and I see Anna standing there, I forget everything else.

My heart is pounding hard in my chest. “Hi,” I say, combing my fingers through my hair.

“Hi.” She steps onto the porch and pulls the door closed behind her and I take a few steps back to give her room. She stands in front of me, looking confused, like she’s trying to register the expression on my face but can’t. She wraps one arm across her body and grips her elbow.

I don’t know where to start. I have absolutely no idea what to say right now. All I can think about is that ten years from now, the two of us will be in the same car, driving back here, walking up these steps and onto this porch, together. I look at my feet because I can’t look at her and piece the right words together at the same time.

“Please say something,” Anna says, letting out a nervous laugh. “You’re killing me here.” Her voice catches.

I lock my eyes on hers. “I was wrong,” I say, and tears start sliding down her cheeks, one after the other. “I was convinced that I wasn’t supposed to be part of your future but I think now…that I am.”

Her lips are pressed tightly together and she nods quickly as she brushes her hands across her face. “Of course you are,” she says. And then she looks at me, tears still streaming down her cheeks, and smiles.
That
smile. My smile. It belongs to me again.

I take two steps forward and throw my arms around her neck, lacing my fingers through her curls and breathing into her hair. I feel her bury her face in my T-shirt and wrap her arms around my waist. She squeezes me so tight, pressed in as close me to me as she can get. We stand like that for a long time.

I don’t know if I was wrong. I might be wrong now. But my gut feels right for the first time in over a month and apparently I’m going with it, ignoring the risks and the questions and the consequences. Again. How can I
not
?

The wind is biting and when I finally step away from Anna, I discover that her cheeks are as red as the sweater she’s wearing. I kiss each one. And then I take her face in my hands.

This kiss feels completely different from all the others. It’s not like the one at the track the other day, when I was trying not to give her false hope. And it’s nothing like the one when I first came back to town, back when I was all euphoric and full of conviction, certain we could make this work regardless of the considerable odds stacked against us. I’m kissing her like I’ve just returned from a long trip and I’m deliriously happy to be back home.

I rest my forehead against hers. I can’t hold back my smile.

“What made you change your mind?” she asks.

I give her the only answer I have. “You. In a bunch of different ways.”

We kiss again, and this one feels a lot more familiar. I picture her room upstairs, looking like it’s supposed to, and I can’t wait to be alone with her there.

When Anna pulls away, she hardly leaves any distance between us. “It’s freezing out here,” she says, brushing her lips against mine. “Come inside.” Another small kiss. “Besides, you have presents to open.”

Presents. Plural. I only brought her one thing. “Presents?” I ask.

She kisses my cheek. “I got you something. My parents got you a couple things too.” I pull back a bit more. Her parents? It didn’t even occur to me to buy them gifts. “Don’t worry,” she says, reading my mind. “They don’t expect you to get them anything.”

Anna moves toward the front door and I trail behind her, but when she opens it and steps inside, I stop cold.

She turns around and stares at me. God, she looks happy and relieved and beautiful and perfect as she stands there, waiting for me to follow her. I must have a stupid grin on my face or something because she suddenly smiles at me. “What?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing. I was just thinking about the first time I came over here.” We’d both cut school. I’d stood on her porch in this exact spot, and Anna stood inside in that exact same one. When she opened the door I’d been expecting her to be afraid of me after I’d inadvertently shown her what I could do, but instead, she was all giddy and curious, eager to hear how I performed the magic that might have saved her life the night before.

But there was something else in her expression that day. She wanted to
know
me—really know me—and I stood frozen in place, realizing that I wanted her to be the person I told all my secrets to.

I knew it wouldn’t be simple. That if I walked through that front door and into her world, both of our lives would be changed forever. Still, she seemed worth the risk. Now I know that she is.

So just like I did that day, I take a deep breath and step inside. Anna closes the door behind me.

I’m not supposed to be here.

But I am.

This book wouldn’t have been possible without the unconditional love and support of my husband, Mike. He made sure I didn’t forget to eat, knocked that super-daddy thing clear out of the park, and still found time to read this story and give me feedback. He’s the love of my life and stuck with me forever; We even have a padlock on
Pont des Arts
to prove it.

I absolutely love writing, but it occasionally takes me away from my greatest love: my kids. I’m grateful to Aidan and Lauren for allowing me to be both a writer and a mom, and for understanding that it’s difficult to excel at both at the exact same time. My world revolves around these two incredible human beings and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Boy, has my family turned into a bunch of vocal fans! I don’t even know where to start thanking them for all their words of support and encouragement. To the many,
many
members of the Ireland, Cline/Reinwald, and Stone families: Thank you with all my heart. You’ve made the last year such fun.

My friends have simply blown me away with their kind words and constant support for this new endeavor of mine. Special thanks to Jennifer Fall who inspired me with her story about the love locks.

When I wrote
Time Between Us
, I got to reflect back on my days living in Evanston, Illinois. Writing
Time After Time
took me back even earlier, to living in San Francisco post-college, when six amazing women magically appeared in my life. You’re sprinkled throughout these pages, Sonia Painter, Renée Austin, Shanna Draheim, Marie Bahl, Kristin Wahl, and Lynette Figueras Spievak. We were meant to be friends. San Francisco is
our
city. And yes, we are the funniest people we know.

A year ago, I was clueless about the book blogger community, but now I get it. These passionate readers make our worlds go ’round, and I am incredibly grateful for all they do to spread the word about books—not just
my
books,
all
books. Still, to those of you who consistently shout from the rooftops about my stories, I’m humbled. Thank you. I’m equally grateful to the wonderful booksellers at my local indies, Books, Inc.; A Great Good Place for Books; Book Passage; Barnes & Noble, Walnut Creek; and Orinda Books for all their support.

So many people in my life have expertise I require for my stories and don’t actually possess. Huge thanks to Mark Holmstrom for continuing the rock climbing lessons, and to Dr. Martin Moran and Dr. Mike Temkin for helping me understand yet another medical condition I knew nothing about.

My agent, Caryn Wiseman, not only represents my work with passion, she patiently brainstorms with me, reads draft after draft, and keeps the encouragement coming when I need it most. Thank you, Caryn.

I’m always grateful for my brilliant editor, Lisa Yoskowitz. I’m not sure other authors get to laugh their way through revisions, but I do. Thank you for loving these characters, for caring so much about every single word, and most of all, for just being Lisa-y.

It’s such an honor to be part of the Disney-Hyperion family. Huge thanks to the entire team, and special thanks to Stephanie Lurie and Suzanne Murphy for believing in these two books from the very beginning, to Whitney Manger for creating another gorgeous cover, and to my wonderful publicist Jamie Baker.