Chapter Text
She woke slowly, stretching her form over the flannel of the plush grey sofa, and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun glinting in through the windows. She wanted to bask in it. It was warm and welcoming and felt like something close to nostalgia. She propped herself up on her forearms and peered over the side of the couch, taking in the emptiness of the kitchen when she smelled the dirt bombs, butter, cinnamon, and nutmeg flood her senses. Her eyes widened, her feet hit the wood floor, and she made her way into the kitchen.
“Where is everybody?” Belly called out.
She lifted the glass cloche, took a dirt bomb, and settled in at the kitchen table. Her finger traced a seagrass placemat she didn't recognize. She thought she knew everything about this house. That’s odd.
“Tay? Anika?”
No answer.
Maybe they went into town for more wine. They'll be back soon, she told herself, though she couldn't shake the slightly unsettled feeling in her stomach.
Maybe it was because things had been strained between Jere and her since Christmas. And it hadn’t helped that Conrad was constantly drifting into her thoughts.
What had he made for breakfast this morning? Did he immediately know 12 down on the New York Times crossword last weekend? These were the intrusive thoughts that occurred to her with increasing regularity. They had been exchanging memes since he left Cousins the morning after Christmas. She had started it by sending him a Gandalf meme. But they hadn’t actually spoken.
Learning about Jere’s indiscretions with Lacie had been the final nail in the Jelly coffin as Taylor had called it. You’ve become codependent, she said. And for once, in all the years they’d been friends, Belly thought Taylor was right. They were over for good.
She went into autopilot, abruptly texting Conrad, asking him if the spare key to the summer house was still in the rainboot of the ceramic duck under the hydrangeas at the side of the house. He hadn’t even thought the question was strange. He didn’t even question her. Of course, Belly. It’s as much your house as it is ours.
And so she had turned off her phone, packed a weekend bag, and hopped into Anika’s Mini Cooper and drove up to Cousins stopping at the liquor emporium for reinforcements. Anika insisted. Just the three of them for a girls weekend, and Belly seeking a desperate escape from Finch and the stares and whispers flanking the halls of every space she entered. Had everyone known?
Just as she pressed the last crumbs of the dirt bomb to her lips, she heard a voice.
“Oh good, you’re awake!”
Her head whipped around and she took it all in. The long layer bob, the red lip and brown cat eye, the emerald green wrap sweater, the sleeves tucked over the woman’s knuckles, and the infinity necklace dangling from her neck.
She shrieked, jumping up and scrambling towards the corner of the living room, the kitchen chair tumbling to the floor.
She was looking at herself. But older?
“Let me explain,” her older self said, rushing into the living room towards her, the palms of her hands extended as a show of no harm.
She stood with her back to the fireplace, and reached her arm around to grip the fireplace poker.
Her older self laughed and shook her head, “You really gotta put that poker down.”
“What is going on? Am I high? I’m high. I shouldn't have taken that gummy.” Belly cried, dropping the fireplace poker, and bringing her fists to her eyes, rubbing them frantically.
“You’re not high,” older Belly assured her as she sat down on the couch, “come sit.”
It was then that she saw them, the framed photos hanging from the sun-faded Spoonflower wallpaper. Belly and Conrad, wind tussled hair, hands clasped, smiles wide and heads thrown back, barefoot in the sand. Belly in Conrad’s lap, clad in red Christmas pajamas, grinning at the camera, their eyes glassy and lips wine stained. Belly in a maroon halter dress, the fabric clinging to Conrad’s graduation gown, her body turned toward his, and her arm extended, adjusting the kelly green cap on his head.
Her hands shook, and her mouth was dry like sandpaper she nearly choked. She took a seat on the far end of the sofa. Her eyes briefly caught the infinity necklace once more.
“What the fuck is this?” She demanded, her voice firm, but her trembling lip gave her away.
“I know,” her older self said, “this is fucking crazy, right?” Older Belly tucked a loose strand of chestnut colored hair behind her ear. “So this has happened before…”
Belly cut her off, “What is happening?” finally gaining the courage to meet the eyes of her older self.
"Um..” older Belly bit her lip. “Time travel?” her shoulders shrugged to her ears and her eyebrows knit together. “Last time it was Conrad.” she told her.
“Con – you’re telling me that–” She launched herself off of the sofa and walked in circles, shaking her head, her arms suspended midair, like she was trying to reach out and grab ahold of reality.
“A couple years ago,” older Belly added.
Belly looked up sharply, “how old are you?”
“Twenty nine.” older Belly answered.
Belly heard the backdoor open and her head flicked toward the sound. Her heart pounded like a drum about to burst in her chest. She thought she might faint. And Conrad appeared.