Disclaimers: The usual legal stuff. To wit (but not very witty): No part of this story may be reproduced without the permission of the author. The author is I! Q. Kelly :) Copyright 2011 by Q. Kelly.
Miscellaneous: If you like what you read, check out my other books. Here is my info:
Amazon author page: http://tinyurl.com/6glbcjz
Smashwords author page: http://tinyurl.com/6glbcjzhttp://tinyurl.com/658grho
Barnes and Noble author page: http://tinyurl.com/5sx4ngr
Contact me:I'd love to hear from you at yllek_q@yahoo.com. Check out my author blog at http://qkelly.blogspot.com.
"Third" will be published, and obviously the published version will be more polished than this work in progress. BUT any feedback and constructive criticism just may make its way into the published version, so don't hesitate to contact me.
Sex: Yep. This book is going to have lesbian sex and a polyamorous relationship. For a blurb and cover image, go here: http://qkelly.blogspot.com/2011/11/blurb-for-third.html
Chapter
Nine
Anne awoke in a pool of sunshine. She scrambled to orient herself and to find the clock.
Goodness. She must have fallen asleep right away. She remembered holding Helen's hand and enjoying her touch as they walked down the hallway. She remembered Helen breaking away and Anne getting into bed--in the middle, between Helen and Yalia--and then nothing.
I feel rested. I feel refreshed. I feel alive.
Yalia walked into the room. "You're up! Good morning."
Anne patted her hair. "Good morning, Lady Yamaoto. I apologize for intruding in your bed last night. I hope you were not terribly inconvenienced."
Yalia waved off the comment. "Anytime. I was out like a light. I think you were too."
"Yes. Thank you."
Over a breakfast of Lucky Charms, Yalia said: "Helen left for Gallaudet not long before you woke up. She said to tell you she'll stop at Icarus after her classes and get your paintings. She'll be home about three. I don't have any cases going on right now, so the day is wide open. Anything you want to do? Get new clothes?"
Anne dipped her spoon into a section that had mostly marshmallows. "Perhaps later I shall purchase additional clothing. You own much land, I believe. It has been ever long since I walked for some time and felt the air, the cold and the wind on my cheeks."
"That sounds good."
"The dogs should come. And you also, Lady Yamaoto, if you wish."
Yalia smiled. "I'd like to. Sure. It's really cold out, so bundle up." Anne saw a message in Yalia's expression, in her tight, taut mouth: Safer to not go alone, anyway. No one can sneak up on you and seize you.
*****
The dogs went
crazy with barks as Yalia zipped up her coat, and the doorbell rang a few
moments later. Yalia frowned. If the visitor was from Icarus, she was not sure
how to proceed. Yalia looked through the peephole. "Shit." She turned
to Anne. "It's my parents. They live in
Another insistent doorbell ring and then Yalia's mother called: "Yoo-hoo! I see you!"
"Shall I go to my bedroom?" Anne asked.
"No, no, not unless you want to. I'll get rid of them as quickly as I can." Yalia undid the deadbolt and opened the door. You always had great timing. She forced a smile. "Dad. Mom."
Michelle Yamaoto shot Yalia a Cheshire cat grin. Then she tore off her winter cap. Her hair was pink. Pink!
Yalia's jaw fell. "Wow."
"Like my hair?" Michelle asked.
"It's striking. Uh, come on in. Get out of the cold." Yalia indicated Anne. "We were about to take the dogs on a walk. This is my friend, Anne George. Anne, this woman with the Pepto-Bismol hair is my mother, Michelle. And this is my father, Andy."
Anne smiled good-naturedly, and her aura was different. She was no longer a slightly distant, slightly haughty queen. She was softer. More approachable. She held out her hand; she had gloves on. "Pleasure to meet you both."
"You too," Michelle replied with a beam and handshake. She shifted her attention back to Yalia. "You left so suddenly after the funeral. Daddy and I wanted to check on you and Helen."
"We're fine. Helen needed to get out of there. She was overwhelmed. Too many people."
Michelle pursed her lips, believing not one word. "Anne, where are you from? Your accent..."
"Anne is British," Yalia supplied. "Anyway, I wish you would've called. Like I said, we were about to go on a walk."
Michelle responded with a bright smile. "Daddy and I will go with you."
Great. Wonderful. Awesome. Not.
"You sound a bit more like you're French," Michelle said.
"I spent
much of my childhood in
"Ah," Michelle said, and Yalia could tell her mother knew something was askew about this Anne George woman.
*****
"This land truly is beautiful," Anne murmured for what must have been the third time. She loved the stinging cold on her cheeks. She loved seeing the dogs yip and run and be free.
"Does it remind you of home?" Andy Yamaoto asked.
Anne gave Yalia's father a smile. "In some ways, yes." Anne liked Yalia's parents. They were friendly and warm. They obviously loved their daughter, and Anne got the impression Helen was not the only person Yalia had shut out after the shooting. Yalia had cut out everyone, maintaining only superficial ties.
About an hour after they left on the walk, the foursome headed back to the house. "We passed a parked Icarus car on our way in," Michelle said. "A man was in it. Why?"
Anne slowed her
steps, her chest constricting. Icarus,
Icarus, Icarus.
"I don't know," Yalia said, but the guilty shift of her eyes, of her gaze, gave the lie away. Fortunately, her parents let the matter drop.
In the house,
Yalia fixed hot chocolate and s'mores, and then her parents left about
"Well," Yalia said, exchanging a smile with Anne. "Just us again. Sorry about them."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Anne said. "Your parents are lovely. I enjoyed seeing you with them."
Yalia raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Okay."
"You are a very nice person, Lady Yamaoto."
A small, tentative smile was Yalia's response. "You are nice, too. I've been thinking about what you said last night. You being a burden. You're not, though."
"I am."
"Maybe in some ways. But in general, no. You're not a burden. You will be good for Helen. For me. For us. And I hope Helen and I can help you as well."
"Why have you and Helen not made love in some time?"
"I..." Yalia licked her lips and smiled, but her smile was without humor or joy. "I can't, I'm not...right now, I can't be the wife Helen deserves. We've separated. We separated about two and a half weeks ago, actually."
"Then why do you live together?"
"One of us was going to move out, but Helen did not think she could take care of you alone."
"I do not need taking caring of," Anne replied haughtily, although she knew her statement was incorrect. For instance, she knew not how to operate a vehicle. She had no income. No credit card.
"You don't need taking care of," Yalia agreed. "You're right."
"I am regretful about you and your wife."
"Me too. And thank you."
"Forgive me, but it did not seem at the Days Inn, from your exertions in bed, as if you and Lady Franklin were separated."
Yalia's cheeks flushed. "You heard that? We tried to be quiet."
"Perhaps your attempts failed somewhat."
Yalia's lips puckered. "I'm sorry. I know how to be quiet. Helen's loud."
"Why are you and Lady Franklin separated? You love her. She loves you."
Yalia reached
down to pet a dog, the ugly one. Toad,
Anne remembered.
"The kids issue. And I have not been myself since the shooting," Yalia said. "Helen deserves someone better. I feel little desire. Sexual desire. We've been together a long time, and I guess we just grew apart. The shooting brought matters to the forefront, maybe."
"Helen's mother worried about you. The both of you."
"She told you about us?"
"It is how I know about the shooting," Anne said.
"Ah."
"Lady Franklin, and I mean Lady Regina, thought tremendously of you."
"She was a good woman. Other than what she did to you, I guess. I never had mother-in-law problems."
Anne held out her hand. "Shall we be friends, Lady Yamaoto?"
Yalia brought the hand to her lips and kissed it. "We shall be friends."
*****
Benjamin had the paintings wrapped and ready to go when Helen arrived at Icarus. They talked about drawing up a fake license and fake papers for Anne. Then Benjamin helped Helen carry the paintings to Helen's truck: fifty-two paintings in all.
"You and I need to talk about stopping the surveillance," Helen said after they finished.
Benjamin narrowed his eyes but offered a smile. "Come with me."
Helen followed him to the monitoring room. The screens were black, but Helen wondered if Benjamin had used a remote control to turn them off moments ago. She hated the thought of her house being bugged, of secret microphones and cameras in her private space. But, they probably were there, and so high-tech they would be impossible for Helen and Yalia, a private investigator, to find.
Helen sat. "Call off the car."
"Not possible. An emergency may arise."
"The car is freaking Anne out," Helen said calmly. "She is jittery. Call the car off. This is not negotiable."
Benjamin crossed his arms. "You do not appreciate the gravity of the situation. We are dealing with many, many unknowns. You are correct the car issue is not negotiable. The car stays. You have my word, however, the car is only there to help if an emergency arises."
"Give an example of an emergency."
"Anne fades and comes back bleeding or hurt in some way. Or she fades and does not come back."
Helen played with her bracelet. She hated to admit it, but Benjamin's argument was more persuasive than hers.
"Has Anne faded since she left Icarus?" Benjamin asked.
The question caught Helen off guard. "That is not for me to answer," she replied a few seconds later.
Benjamin picked up on the delay. "She did fade." His voice was angry. "We need to know this. We have to document everything. Where, when, and for how long? Did anything aberrant happen?"
Aberrant, yes. She took Yalia and me with her. She returned late.
"It is not my place to tell you," Helen said.
Benjamin jumped to his feet. He scribbled something on a business card. "This is my phone number. Have her call me immediately. If there is a problem, we need to know. We absolutely need to know. Okay? Understand?"
"I will give her your number."
"If I am not here--if I have faded--Anne should talk to whomever is doing the surveillance."
"Benjamin?"
"What?"
"Do you ever get scared?"
Benjamin's eyes turned soft and understanding. "Of course I do, Dr. Franklin. 'Course I do. But I would not trade this for the world."
Helen got up to
leave. I would not trade this for the
world. The sentence stayed with her through her drive home. I would not trade this for the world. I
would not trade this for the world.
"Jesus,"
Helen muttered. "I have Anne Boleyn at home." Exhilaration rushed
through her. The situation no longer seemed ridiculous or impossible. Just
miraculous. That was how Helen needed to look at it. Her father and her mother
had messed up, but Helen was taking over the case. She would give Anne Boleyn a
second life. Anne Boleyn was no doomed queen, but a damned miracle. She was a
damned survivor.
Anne could tell Helen was in a fantastic mood. She arrived home, put her arms around Yalia, kissed her a good few seconds. Then she hugged Anne. "I come bearing paintings."
While the three of them lugged in the paintings, Helen explained her meeting with Benjamin. "The car's here to stay, for better or for worse."
Anne was not surprised. She might actually have been a little disappointed if Icarus, or Benjamin, gave in that quickly.
"Let's go out and do something," Helen said. "How about bowling? Or skating? Skating's a bit closer. And I'm better at skating."
Yalia groaned, but in a good-natured way. Anne turned a questioning look onto Yalia. "Wait until you see Helen. She's a showoff," was all Yalia said.
"Have you been skating?" Helen asked.
"I have been to a rink, but I did not skate. Benjamin wanted to try, so we went with Jordan and your mother. This was about two weeks before Starbucks."
Some of Helen's
good cheer evaporated, quite visibly. "Your mother was not that bad,"
Anne was compelled to say. And it was true, partially. Anne could not deny that
Regina Franklin had a softer, warmer touch than Josiah and Benjamin. Anne could
also not deny that
However, of the
three, Josiah, Benjamin and
"Let's not talk about my mother," Helen said. "Why didn't you skate?"
Anne stifled a
snort. She, the queen of
"You want to go?"
"I will watch you and Lady Yamaoto. If the rink has arcade games, I may partake in them."
Helen grinned. "Cool. And maybe we'll coax you onto the rink. Did Benjamin skate?"
"He did," Anne said. "He made a spectacle of himself." And he loved it. Benjamin and Jordan had laughed the whole time. Laughed and skated. Sometimes, Anne wished she could be more like Benjamin, enjoy life more. But he was a man. He had it easier; he was in charge of his own destiny.
*****
So here they were. Helen had her own inline skates, a sleek red and yellow pair with four wheels. "I haven't skated in forever," Helen said. "This will be fun."
Yalia rented her own skates and got a pair for Anne as well. "In case you change your mind."
I will not. "Thank you."
Helen latched up and was on the floor first. The place, about twenty minutes from the farmhouse, was not too busy. Maybe fifteen people glided--or staggered--across the floor. Many were children. Helen moved quickly, powerfully, with grace. She showed no signs of rust.
She was sexuality personified. Sexiness personified.
Out of the corner of her eye, Anne watched Yalia watch her wife. Yalia's lips were slightly parted.
"Wish I could move like that," Yalia said.
"Are you good?"
"Average. I can get the job done."
Helen waved with a broad smile, and Yalia waved back.
"Your wife is quite skilled."
Yalia's expression was suddenly sad. "I messed up. I distanced myself from Helen when I should have..." She sighed. She shook her head. "Gonna put on my skates. Come with me. With us. Please."
"Perhaps later I shall, Lady Yamaoto."
"Would you like to call me Yalia sometime, perhaps?"
The question gave Anne pause. She was not sure she liked the idea of letting Yalia and Helen invade more of her personal space. Anne could not deny she was drawn to both of them, and so maintaining some distance was imperative.
"Never mind," Yalia said. "It's cool."
"Cool," Anne repeated.
Yalia laughed. "Rad. Groovy."
"Sick. Awesome. Prime."
"Hey, you know your slang."
"I do."
"I'll be back soon." Yalia frowned. "Something on your shirt."
Anne looked down. "I do not--"
Yalia flicked Anne on the chin. "Got you. Made you look."
Anne found herself smiling, found herself drawn to Yalia's playfulness, her dancing eyes. She wanted to kiss Yalia. She wanted Helen to kiss her again.
Yalia brought Anne's hand to her lips, as she had earlier. Her mouth was gentle. "Bye for now, Anne. Be back soon." Yalia skated off.
Anne found a pinball game and inserted a quarter. She made her way through several games, sneaking peeks at Yalia and Helen all the while. They looked good together. They fit. They skated fluidly, hand in hand sometimes, their heads together, laughing. Whatever their problems, they would be fine. They loved each other very much.
Anne thought about her languishing rented pair of skates. She could be out there too, her hands most likely in Helen's and Yalia's. She could be laughing with them. She was not Anne Boleyn anymore; she was no queen anymore. She was Anne George, commoner, and she would have to adapt if she were to survive and be happy. If she were to be independent.
She would have to trust Helen and Yalia.
*****
They got a pizza from the rink's restaurant. "How did you two meet?" Anne asked over a gooey slice of pepperoni and bacon.
Both Helen and Yalia grinned. "I'll tell her," Yalia said. "Okay, so Helen and I met in high school. 'Met' is probably the wrong word. I moved to the school district, and I saw Helen around at school. She was a cheerleader, a perfect blonde. I was a misfit. I was a Goth. I told myself I hated the cheerleader types, but inside, I didn't. From the first time I saw Helen, I was in love with her. I couldn't help it. The way she moved, the way she talked, just her aura. But I never dared talk with her. So, fast forward to when we're twenty-five. I'm a cop. I'm called to an environmental protest that is getting out of hand. The police chief wants us to arrest protesters. Lo and behold, who do I see but Helen Franklin. She's one of the calmer protesters. The calmest one, actually. Bonehead me gets it into my head that arresting her would be a good icebreaker. Of course, I didn't intend to go through with the arrest. I'd let her get off with a warning. Point is, I'd get to talk to Helen Franklin, finally. So, fine. I tell her she's under arrest."
Anne leaned forward, caught up in Yalia's story.
" 'Yalia Yamaoto?' Helen asked. 'Oh my gosh. Is that you?' I was shocked. Helen knew my name! I stuttered out some sort of 'Yes' reply, and Helen's eyes shone. She seemed genuinely excited to see me. Turns out she'd had a crush on me too. She'd been in love with me too."
"Wow."
Yalia laughed. "I'm glad Helen spoke up when she did. If she hadn't...I don't know."
"I thank you both again for accepting me into your home."
"No more thanks needed, okay?" Helen said. "Skate with us after we eat?"
I will not. Anne would fall. Lots. Helen and Yalia would have to help her up, they would have their arms around Anne, body against body, breasts against breasts, hand in hand. "That is most kind of you to ask, Lady Franklin. But I decline."
*****
"Anne likes us," Helen said as she and Yalia skated to a slow song.
"Well, good. I like her too."
"No," Helen said, injecting a purposeful angle into her voice, "she likes us. Likes likes us."
Yalia slowed and gave Helen a grudging nod. "I know."
"What do we do about it?"
"I have no idea," Yalia whispered. "No idea."
"We probably shouldn't invite her to sleep with us tonight. Unless she really needs it. Or maybe we should? No, probably not."
"Suppose so." Yalia wanted to tell Helen: "Screw the consequences. Let's invite her," but Yalia kept quiet. She was scared what would happen if she got to kiss Anne.
*****
THE LUV TOY was an oblong, light-pink vibrator with a purple base. Its colors reminded Anne of Elizabeth's family tree mural, which she had decided not to paint over. At least somewhere in the world, she would have left her mark again. Anne checked if the vibrator had a battery inside. It did. Anne twisted the vibrator's base, and THE LUV TOY hummed on. Strong movements, for sure. Not loud, though. Yalia and Helen would not hear. Good. Anne turned off the vibrator and her bedroom lights. She got into bed. She pulled down her sweat pants and underwear halfway.
What now? Anne had been looking forward to this moment since Yalia handed her the box yesterday afternoon, more than twenty-four hours ago. Now that the time had come, however, Anne wished for more waiting, more longing, and she did not understand it.
Then she did. She did not want to be in bed, alone, with a plastic, battery-operated sex aid masquerading as a lover. She wanted to be across the hallway, in Helen's and Yalia's bed, even if they did nothing but sleep. Even if there was no touching.
Anne sighed. Deal with it. Get over it. She liked these blunt, flippant American sayings. She twisted the vibrator on and pressed it against her clit.
WHOA!
Anne's body jumped. She pulled the vibrator back. The sensation was jolting, literally. Intense. She took a moment to recover and then pulled her underwear up for insulation. She lowered the vibrator again.
Wow.
Wow.
She sank into sensations.
Oh goodness.
This was...
Anne twisted. She writhed. Oh, Lord. This felt so damn good, so sinfully good! She would come soon, so soon, too soon, and she wanted to come, and at the same time, she did not. She wanted to savor her first vibrator orgasm. Too late. There it was, her orgasm, with precious little build-up. Anne checked the time. Less than a minute. She flopped against the pillows. She would need more time to recover from her orgasm than she had spent getting it. No wonder women loved their vibrators. Easy, quick, no-muss orgasms, and different, too.
About five minutes later, Anne kissed the toy. The scent of her juices was faint, but definitely there. "I suppose it is up to you to keep me company, Luv Toy," she said. "You are not too bad. You will do."
She brought her new friend down for another whirl.
*****
The next two nights, Anne slept alone. She got to know her new vibrator friend intimately. She also had nosebleeds from her right nostril, and at exactly the same time: 2:31 a.m. Both nosebleeds were so bad she jerked awake with a start. Something was in her throat, choking her. Her gag reflexes kicked in, and she spit out blood. The nosebleed blood, because she was lying down, had traveled back into her throat. Both times, the nosebleeds stopped at 2:33 a.m.
The nosebleeds scared Anne. She had never had nosebleeds.
Never, never, never.
Anne did not tell Helen and Yalia. She kept her clean-up activities as quiet as possible. She stuffed her tissues far down the outside trash can. She washed her clothes herself. She also studied the business card Helen had given her with Benjamin's number. "It's up to you whether to call him," Helen had said. Anne hated Benjamin. No, she more than hated him. She loathed him, like she loathed Henry and Josiah. She would not be telephoning Mr. Benjamin Franklin anytime. Period.
On the third day, Anne did not dare sleep. She lay in the dark and let the stars comfort her. She loved them. They were one of her favorite things about her new residence. She and Yalia had gone to Wal-Mart two days ago to buy Anne clothes and other odds and ends. Yalia had happened to see a package of these stars. "I loved this when I was a kid," Yalia enthused. "I bet they're better now. You have to try this. Hell, I'm getting a box for my room."
Anne had liked Yalia's grin, the light in Yalia's eyes. That was all the persuading Anne needed to agree to the stars.
Anne glanced at the clock. Only a few more minutes. She would be awake and prepared at 2:31 a.m. At 2:29, Anne turned the lamp on, to its lowest setting. She stuffed tissues into her right nostril. She waited. The time for the bleeding came, and no bleeding occurred. At 2:40, Anne allowed herself a relieved breath and yanked the tissue out. Maybe she had been ill, so to speak, from her time stream fluctuation, but she was recovered. Maybe, maybe. Please let it be so.
A knock sounded on the door. "Anne?" came Helen's voice.
What is this? Anne crumpled the tissues and slipped them into her wastebasket. She padded to the door and opened it a crack. "Yes?"
"Did it happen?" Helen asked, and Anne made out Yalia behind her.
Anne was anxious to shut the door on her companions. She evidently had not been quiet the past two nights like she thought. However, Helen had said it. She had been vague. "I know not what you mean."
Helen glanced over Anne's shoulder. "You didn't get out of bed earlier. So it didn't come? That's good. I've been worried."
"Can we talk to you for a minute?" Yalia asked.
"Very well." Anne waved them in.
"I've heard you get up the past two nights at the same time and go into the bathroom and do a few other things," Yalia said. "What's happened?"
Anne picked up on the earnestness in Yalia's voice. She was only trying to help. "Very well," Anne said, and she went on to tell Yalia and Helen about the nosebleeds.
"Wow," Helen said after Anne was finished. "You should've told me. Us."
"I did not want to worry you unnecessarily. And you see why. No bleeds tonight."
"But you're going to be up at 2:30 tomorrow anyway," Helen said.
"Yes," Anne had to admit. "You are correct."
"Does Benjamin have nosebleeds?"
"I do not know."
"I can't imagine how scared you are," Yalia said softly. "You handle it so well."
"One could say the same about you. We internalize."
Yalia sighed. She sat on the bed and glanced at Helen. "I'll tell you two something. I see Louis."
Helen blinked. "You see Louis?" She sat close to Yalia. Not so close their legs touched, but close. "How so?"
"He appears to me sometimes."
"As a ghost? Like Dexter and his dad?"
"No." Yalia chuckled. She glanced up at Anne. "Do you know the show Dexter?"
"I am unfamiliar with it."
"It's good. I have it on DVD if you want to watch it. Dexter is a serial killer who kills serial killers, but I hate the parts where he talks with his dad, who is there in person. Dexter is the only one who sees him. So, anyway, no, Louis doesn't appear as a ghost. What I mean is he appears in my mind once in a while. He talks to me. He asks me things. He tells me things."
"But you said you see him," Anne pointed out.
"I hear him, I mean."
Anne wished she could reach out and touch Yalia to comfort her. Squeeze her shoulder. She owed Yalia that much, after what Yalia had done to help her at the movie theater. But Helen was the one on the bed with Yalia. She did not have to be the only one, though. Anne sat on Yalia's other side and slipped her foot forward a bit. Then a bit more, until her foot brushed Yalia's. "What does Louis say and ask?"
"Nothing important. He appears at silly times. Yesterday, he asked if I had a good day."
"What did you tell him?"
"I usually don't reply to his questions."
"What happens when you do?"
"He wants to have a conversation. He gets chatty. He asks too many questions."
Take her hand. Hold her hand. Anne closed her hand over Yalia's, slowly, tentatively, and Yalia did not attempt to draw away. "I cannot blame him. I would like to ask you many questions," Anne said. "You too, Lady Franklin."
This elicited smiles from Yalia and Helen.
"Will you let Helen and me wait with you tomorrow to see if you get a nosebleed?"
"I will," Anne said.
"Good. Well, uh, we better get back to bed."
I wish you could stay. Or that you would invite me to sleep with you and Helen. Or that I had the courage to ask. "Good night," Anne said. Feeling brave, but not brave enough to ask to share a bed, Anne kissed Yalia. Not on the mouth, but close, just outside the corner of her lips. Yalia kissed Anne back, same place, corner of her lips.
Anne did the same with Helen, but Helen was more daring with her responding kiss, opting for a quick, but full, brush of mouth against mouth.
"Good night, Anne," Yalia said. "Helen and I will be with you tomorrow. You don't have to go through any of this alone."
A moment later, Yalia and Helen were back in their bedroom, and Anne clutched her pillow over her face. Her body burned. Her heart burned. She wanted to cry.
Time for me! THE LUV TOY called from the drawer, and Anne got the thing out. She kissed it, several times. Pretended Yalia was the one she was kissing. Anne pretended she was kissing Helen, as well.
I am going crazy. I am kissing a vibrator and wishing it was my friends. "You are ridiculous," Anne said. "I barely know them. We just met."
Come on, THE LUV TOY said, and Anne gave the toy, and herself, what they wanted.
*****
Helen got into bed without saying anything. Yalia, too. Helen kept waiting for Yalia to say: "So you kissed her again on the mouth. What's up with that?"
I didn't mean to, Helen would reply. It just happened. I'm sorry.
But Yalia said nothing.
"Sorry," Helen said when it became evident Yalia would not talk. "I didn't mean to kiss her on the mouth."
"It's fine," Yalia replied. "Not a problem." She took Helen into her arms. "Let's try to get some sleep."
******
Yalia woke up about nine o'clock. She studied her wife for a while. Her morning pee could wait. She drank in the curve of Helen's body, her messy hair, her lips. She replayed the flicker of Helen kissing Anne last night. She also replayed Anne kissing her, her kissing Anne back.
Yalia brought her lips to Helen's cheek. "Love you," Yalia said.
"Mmpf." Helen was nowhere near awake, and Yalia sighed. She lay back in bed. Maybe they needed a threesome to get rid of the sexual tension. Anne lived with them, however. What if the threesome backfired? The situation was awkward. Impossible.
Fine, then. No threesome. Friends. Friends only. They had just met Anne. Why was Yalia even contemplating this? It was crazy. Anne was from 1536. She had been through many traumatic experiences. She was probably the least suitable candidate sexual intrigue with Yalia and Helen.
Yalia got up to pee. She would be careful to keep her distance from Anne. Otherwise, her feelings were at a real risk to develop, to cross a line. How could they not? Anne was intelligent, beautiful, vulnerable, and both Helen and Yalia felt an affinity with her.
*****
It snowed that morning, and schools, including Gallaudet, canceled classes. The snow fell and fell, with forecasts calling for at least two feet by nighttime. When Helen peeked through the windows at noon, Jordan and the Icarus car were leaving. "He just drove away," Helen said. "Jordan did."
"Oh." Anne was sitting in the living room chair and did not seem happy Jordan was gone. Yalia did not seem happy, either. Helen certainly was not. For once, she had been glad to have Jordan or whomever the other guard was nearby. These damn nosebleeds. The country roads would be impassable with snow.
"Maybe you should call Benjamin," Helen suggested. "We, uh..." She could not believe what she was about to say. "Maybe Jordan or someone should stay in the house with us until the weather gets better."
Anne's eyes went wide, and passion reddened her cheeks. She leaped from the chair, truly leaped. "I will not call Benjamin!" She jabbed her pointer finger in the air. "He drugs me, do you know that? He drugs me to put me to sleep and inserts me in all sorts of machines for tests. No one from Icarus stays with us."
"Even if it puts your health at risk? And your life?"
Anne sat back in the chair. "I am fine," she insisted.
"The nosebleeds have you scared to death." Bad choice of words, scared to death.
"I am fine."
Helen inclined her head in a show of respect. "You had two nosebleeds at the exact same times. Something is wrong. Now, if something happens to you and I can't do anything about it because of the weather, I do not want, I repeat, I do not want your blood on my hands."
"Icarus can do nothing except creep around. They are bumblers. They fumble in the dark. They know nothing."
"They probably know more than they let on."
More fury smeared Anne's cheeks. "What say you, Lady Yamaoto?"
Yalia opened her mouth. Closed her mouth. "Anne," she said at last, "I get where you're coming from. These people did shitty things to you. I wouldn't want them here either. Thing is, I already have someone's blood on my hands. I don't want you haunting me, either. I would appreciate you calling. For me."
Anne's mouth thinned with displeasure, and Helen knew Yalia had won. "Very well," Anne said. "I will call."
"Thank you. I owe you one."
*****
Helen flopped onto the couch with Yalia. "So what should we do while we wait?" It had turned out that before Anne could call, Benjamin called Helen. He wanted to send someone to stay in the house with them, and Helen had tussled with him a bit to put up a show. At least she had not had to tell Benjamin about the nosebleeds, so Anne got a bit of her way too. Benjamin probably knew, though, thanks to spy devices.
Bottom line: Jordan would be at the front door in about an hour. He would be driving an Icarus snow removal truck.
Earlier, Helen had rummaged through the board games to find something she could play with Yalia and Anne. So many board and card games, so little use. Monopoly, Yahtzee, Skip Bo, Phase 10, Sequence, Uno, Hollywood Squares, Upwords, Monopoly, Clue, Racko and Loaded Questions.
Helen wanted no part of board and card games. She kept playing Yalia's ghost of a smile at the Days Inn after Helen kissed Anne. She kept remembering her tongue with Anne's. A good fuck was what she wanted. A good fuck was what the three of them needed, and this snowy day was a perfect occasion. But none of them had the guts to announce they wanted fucking.
Plus, there was Jordan, as effective a damper as any.
"We could start Dexter," Anne said. "If you two do not mind watching it again."
"I don't mind," Yalia said.
While episode one played, Helen curled up with Yalia and thought about Tiffany. Helen and Yalia, while they were dating, had gone to a lesbian bar a few times. Tiffany had been a mainstay. She went every night, apparently. One night, the three of them had a bit too much to drink. They'd returned to Yalia's place together. The three of them had taken turns with one another, and once in a while, two of them would work on the third. Helen had loved the threesome. Absolutely loved it. Yalia, not so much, but then she had never cared for Tiffany. In the morning, Tiffany took a cab to wherever she lived, and Helen and Yalia never went to the bar again.
The threesome with Gina was a bit different. Helen had wanted another threesome after Tiffany, but seeing as how Yalia did not enjoy the experience as she had, Helen waited a few years to ask. Yalia had agreed and said she'd prefer to watch. They found Gina online. Yalia had participated a bit, but watched mostly. She hated it. No more threesomes, Yalia had said.
Now this situation with Anne. A situation in which Yalia seemed willing. Agreeable. Too willing. Too agreeable. Apprehension tickled Helen's throat, her spine, her toes. Was this how Yalia had felt about Helen after the threesomes? Was Anne someone Yalia could fall in love with and leave Helen for?
I feel like a little part of Anne came back with me, Yalia had said. Or something like that, anyway. Anne and Yalia were home together many days and likely would continue to be. Threesome today, twosomes later. Risky, dicey situation. Best to not risk a threesome. Now that Helen had Yalia back, she sure as hell was not letting her wife go. Helen had been stupid to kiss Anne last night. To kiss her the first time. She only hoped it was not too late to avert a disaster.
*****
Anne mustered a
tight smile. This was her first time seeing
"Let me get
that." Helen hung
"I'll get
out of your way,"
"You can
use my office. It has a comfortable chair." Helen showed
"Well," Helen said when she returned to the living room. "So far, not bad."
"If they have not planted bugs or cameras yet, he will," Anne pointed out.
Helen frowned. "Well. Ah."
"You did not realize that?"
Helen tugged at her hair, and the beginnings of a smile tipped her lips. "I'm a dumb blonde sometimes."
"Helen?" Yalia jumped from the couch. "Your nose."
Anne saw it--a nosebleed, and Yalia grabbed tissues for Helen. A couple of minutes later, the bleeding stopped. "It's okay," Helen said. "I get nosebleeds from time to time, especially in winter. Doesn't mean anything."
Helen's expression said something different. She was scared, and so was Anne. Anne felt like an imbecile. She had been worrying about her own health, her own safety, the past few days. She had not considered that Helen and Yalia could be in danger as well. And if Helen was who Anne suspected she was, then Anne really had no business taking her to 1536. Yes, she had made a grave, rash miscalculation in the movie theater.
"I am sorry," Anne said, aware she could do or say nothing to make amends. "I am so sorry. I apologize deeply. I took you both to 1536 without thinking through possible consequences." She had been so determined to prove Yalia wrong and to show Yalia up.
Helen shook off the apology. "It's a regular nosebleed, that's all." But her eyes were wary, fearful. The nosebleed could be a regular one.
Or something worse.
*****
At several points during the afternoon, Helen was tempted to call Benjamin and ask if he'd had nosebleeds. Or if her parents had. After all, they had traveled to 1901 Victorian London.
"Do you
know about my parents' honeymoon in
Anne shifted her gaze to the left, just a bit. "Your mother told me about it."
"What did she say?"
"She was vague. I do not remember."
"Did she mention if she or my dad got nosebleeds?"
Anne looked truly miserable, reminding Helen of Yalia after the shooting. "I do not know, Lady Franklin."
"How long
was she in
"Half a day."
Something tickled at Helen, something, or rather, someone, she had put aside: Time Traveler Zero. Did TT0 get nosebleeds? "Do you know about Time Traveler Zero?"
Anne ate some corn. "Your mother told me about her."
"Who was she?"
"Your mother did not say, so I do not know."
Anne's lying. Her gaze was guilty, same as Josiah's had been. Anne could not meet Helen's eyes.
"Did Time Traveler Zero have nosebleeds?"
"She had no health issues, from what your mother told me. Her tests came away clean. Of course, my scans and Benjamin's looked normal as well."
Anne was concealing something. Why? "My father said he thought that even if you and Benjamin die in your natural times, you will stabilize here, because of what happened with Time Traveler Zero."
"He may be right," Anne said. "The unknown continues to scare, me however."
"I'm sure it does." Time Traveler Zero. Was she someone Helen knew? My mother. Was my mother Time Traveler Zero? It would make sense. Helen had never known her mother's parents or any of her mother's family. Her mother had joked sometimes she sprung out of nowhere, which now took on an ominous tone. Benjamin could have been lying about how and when the time travel machine was invented.
"Was my mother Time Traveler Zero?" Helen asked in a whisper.
Not even a flicker of eyelash from Anne, and she ate more corn. "It is possible."
"What's the big mystery? You're keeping something from me."
"I have suspicions, Lady Franklin, only suspicions. I wish not to spread what may be idle falsities and to unnecessarily worry people. My suspicions are based on nothing, simply what you call a gut feeling."
"What is your gut feeling?"
"I will not say. I may be disastrously wrong. May we discuss another topic?"
"No."
Anne finished her corn. "The snow is pretty, is it not, Lady Yamaoto?"
"Mmm, it is," Yalia replied.
"You're going to tell me tomorrow," Helen said. "Tomorrow. Okay?"
Anne said nothing, only gazed outside. "Beautiful," she murmured. "Simply beautiful."
Chapter
Eleven
The alarm went off at two-fifteen a.m. "You go on," Helen said.
"You're not coming?" Yalia asked.
"Maybe in a bit."
"All
right." Yalia gave Helen a quick kiss and got out of bed. She padded into
the hallway. Light spilled from under Anne's door, and Yalia glanced to her
side. The living room was dark, and Yalia heard faint snores from
The door opened before Yalia could knock. Anne wore blue sweat pants and a white T-shirt. Yalia wanted to say: "Do you know how adorable, how hot you are in these pajamas?"
Yalia said nothing, only smiled.
"Come in." Anne let Yalia in.
"Helen will probably be here soon," Yalia said.
"She is angry with me."
"No. Maybe frustrated. Disappointed." This Time Traveler Zero business disturbed Yalia, too. Was Helen the person Anne suspected of being Time Traveler Zero? It sure would explain Anne's reticence to share. Yalia surveyed the bedroom. Anne was prepared. Tissues and cleaning supplies were smartly arranged on the dresser. Anne was a neat person, at least so far. Her room was spartan and tidy, and Yalia wondered if Anne would be the same way if she lived alone.
"Maybe not the best shirt," Yalia said.
"Hmm?" Anne looked down, and Yalia was tempted to flick her chin again. "Oh. White. Yes. Excellent point." Anne reached into a drawer and drew out a black shirt. Yalia averted her eyes so Anne could change. She bet Anne had nice breasts. Kissable, supple breasts, breasts to--Stop.
"I am finished," Anne said.
Yalia moved her gaze to Anne. "I still love that shirt. Looks great on you." Anne's shirt read: I keep it REAL. They had bought it for five dollars at Wal-Mart the other day.
"My favorite is the zombie shirt," Anne said.
"Can't beat zombies." Yalia sat on the bed. "Have you been to sleep yet?"
"No. I have been thinking."
"About Time Traveler Zero?"
Anne nodded. "And the nosebleeds. I never thought..." She stopped. Started again. "I never meant to put you and Lady Franklin in danger."
"You probably didn't. She gets nosebleeds once or twice a week in the winter. It probably is nothing except bad timing. A coincidence."
Anne's expression was uncertain. "I performed a rash act, and I am very sorry for it."
"I’ve never gotten a nosebleed, so if I get one, we'll fret. Until then, let’s try not to kill ourselves worrying over it."
"Very well."
Yalia's heart went out to Anne. If anyone knew about mistakes and regret, Yalia did. Yalia reached out and caught Anne's hand in hers. Mistake. Touching Anne was torture, particularly if nothing would come of it. "Anne? You're not going to get a nosebleed. You will be fine. After we're done here, would you like to stay with Helen and me tonight?"
Anne dropped her gaze. Lifted it, and Yalia saw the Yes, I would like to in Anne's eyes, and she had never wanted to kiss Anne more. "I perhaps should not," Anne said.
"Why?"
"Your wife is upset with me."
Yalia nodded. She kept Anne's hand in hers. Your wife is upset with me. Good excuse. Utilitarian excuse. It would do. Bunk excuse, though. "She'll get over it. She'll be fine with you staying with us."
"
"Who cares
what
Anne licked her lips. "I never thanked you."
"For what?"
"What you did at the movie theater. Hugging me."
"Anytime you need a hug, holler. Have you tried the toy I gave you?"
Anne blushed, and her responding smile was endearing. "Yes, I have. It is enjoyable. Thank you for that, also."
"You're very welcome."
After a few minutes, Anne said: "I do not think your wife is coming."
"You're probably right."
2:28. 2:29. 2:30. Anne got a tissue and stuffed it up her nostril. She tucked a paper towel into her shirt. The sight was comical, and Yalia was tempted to laugh. She did not.
2:31. 2:32.
No nosebleed.
Anne smiled, a
little smile that grew bigger as the clock hit
"Whew," Anne said. She mopped pretend sweat from her forehead and grinned widely. The whew and the theatrical gesture were peculiar coming from her usually formal face, her formal voice. But they were cute as hell.
"Whew, indeed," Yalia responded. "Okay, then. Guess I'm off to bed. Don't think I'll be able to sleep, though."
"Me neither."
"I'm asking again. Do you want to stay with us tonight? That way I can keep tabs on both you and Helen."
"I will be fine."
"All right," Yalia said, but she did not want to go. Rather, she did not want to go without Anne. "All right, then."
"Thank you for waiting with me."
"Anytime. You're welcome. I’ll do it tomorrow if you’re staying up." Yalia got to her feet. She bent down and kissed Anne outside the corner of her mouth. "Good night."
"Good night."
Yalia went to the door but could not twist the knob. She turned back to Anne. "We all make mistakes."
"You are most kind to say so."
Yalia felt like a million needle-thoughts lived inside her, jabbing at her, crying to be freed. "I would like very much to kiss you like Helen did."
Anne's gaze clung to hers. "You are most kind to say so. I should like to kiss you also."
"Okay," Yalia said. "Okay, then." Get out. Now. " But one more thing nagged at Yalia. She had an important, serious, sensitive question, and the possibility of a yes answer scared her.
"Do you think Helen is Time Traveler Zero?"
"Go to bed."
"Wow," Yalia whispered. "Really? You think so? Why?"
"Go to bed. Please."
The room was suffocating, the air a thick, stifling blanket. "Shit," Yalia muttered. "So you think they had time travel in the 1970s?"
"You should go to bed."
Yalia could not reply. She was drained, exhausted. She was suddenly frightened, very frightened for her wife's life. Helen's nosebleed seemed ordinary, like her other nosebleeds. Butbutbut...what if?
Anne’s gaze
clung to Yalia’s still, as if to convey: Are
you so easy with your forgiveness now? You see what I may have done. If she is
Time Traveler Zero, I fear the repercussions, to both her and me, from our
trips to 1536.
Yalia made her
way back to bed and snuggled up with Helen.
"Nosebleed?" Helen asked.
"Nope. All good."
"You kissed her," Helen said.
"No. But what if I did? What would you do?"
Helen sat up and brought Yalia's hand to her lips. "Your hand is cold."
"Is it?"
"Anne's here," Helen said. "She's with us, for better or for worse. Probably for a good while. We need to deal with this..." She gestured vaguely. "This attraction thing. We need to deal with it."
"I'm not an animal. I can control myself."
Helen laughed. "I can, too. I can. But, uh...well, it's like you said. Anne's different. You couldn't explain it then, and I can't explain it now."
Yalia regarded Helen a moment. She wanted to cry out: The attraction thing is the least of your problems, or at least I think so. You’re a fucking time traveler! "What are you saying?" Yalia asked. "You want to try a polyamory thing?"
"No, no. I don't know what I'm saying. I just don't want us to have secrets. We have to be honest about our feelings for each other. And our feelings for Anne. I'm just clearing the air."
"Huh," Yalia said.
"Think you could do it? Polyamory?"
"I don't know," Yalia muttered. "Don't know enough about it. I'd have to look into it. Could you do it?"
"Dunno. Doesn't matter. Polyamory isn't what I meant. I just wanted to have a conversation to clear the air."
"Gotcha." Yalia pretended to sleep, but she could not. She held onto Helen extra-tight. The conversation with Helen had resolved nothing, and the specter of Time Traveler Zero lurked. Yalia felt like she had stepped into one of the science-fiction novels her dad loved. And it was no fun, no fun at all.
*****
In the morning,
The World Polyamory Association website stated: "Multiple lovers can help you feel happy, whole and complete. You grow spiritually as they know, accept and love you for more than just your social facades. And your poly partners grow too as you know, accept and love them. You and they know who's there to love. You listen to their feedback on how your authenticity affects them. And from their feedback you and they grow and have more to offer the world."
Helen liked the sound of that. All good and nice on the tiny phone screen. But in real life...
The back door closed. Probably Anne or Yalia letting the dogs back in. Helen hoped whoever it was had sense enough to towel off the animals. Helen had kept her distance from Anne after the Time Traveler Zero conversation last night, but she would not let the secret linger much longer. She had thought about it further and concluded her mother probably was not TT0. How could a time machine have been in effect eighty-six years ago? Eighty-six. So long. Regina Franklin’s pregnancy had been amazing; how many forty-six-year old women get pregnant?
The front door opened, and Jordan stepped in. He removed his boots and placed them on a mat. "Looks good. I got the streets all around done. I’ll be going. Thank you for your generosity and hospitality, Dr. Franklin."
"What’s the other guard’s name?"
"Ted, ma’am. He’ll be parking over there soon."
Helen glanced around. No Anne, no Yalia. She inched toward Jordan. "Who is Time Traveler Zero?"
"That’s classified information. I’ll get my things." He walked down the hall.
A flash of loneliness stabbed Helen, and the turmoil of the past few weeks hit her. She needed headache medicine. And she needed to speak up. After all, keeping quiet would result in no good. Like the advice columnist had said, honest communication was a must. That was true no matter the subject, polyamory or TT0 or otherwise.
Jordan left a few minutes later.
"That was nice," Yalia said, coming up behind Helen and wrapping her arms around Helen’s waist. "We didn’t have to shovel an inch."
"Mmm. Sure was nice."
*****
Anne prepared a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for the three of them. They ate in silence, and Helen did not eat much. "Are you upset with me?" Anne asked when Helen declared she was finished.
"I'm not upset."
"You have acted different today. You are frustrated about my reluctance to share my suspicions about Time Traveler Zero."
Helen pictured
her mother, her lovely, beautiful mother, a woman who joked she sprung from
nowhere. Helen stirred cooling soup. She no longer was in a hurry to find out
who Time Traveler Zero was. So what if her mother was TT0? What did it change?
Nothing, except that perhaps Regina Franklin had been famous in her previous
time. Okay, so that was not a nothing. It was a honking city-bus something. My mother had a whole other life I did not
know about. Who had Regina Franklin been? She had short, silver hair, blue
eyes and a ready, friendly smile. Her teeth were genuine, as far as Helen knew.
In good shape, too. Her accent fit where she said she was from,
"Here's the thing," Helen said. "I'm nervous."
"I apologize for making you nervous."
"I overstepped when I kissed you two nights ago," Helen said.
"I see."
"I get a vibe that..." Helen sighed. "I feel stupid, okay? This is stupid. We haven't known each other long. Why are we kissing each other? Why are we kissing one another?"
Anne kept her face still, but her eyes darkened. "Let us not tiptoe around the matter. I have no wish to play games. I have no wish to get between a woman and her wife, especially when I like them both quite a bit. I shall find an apartment and move out as soon as the snow recedes."
Helen pushed her soup bowl to the side. "I don't want you to leave. I like you, but I don't know what's going on in my head. I really don't."
Anne turned her gaze onto Yalia. "At the Days Inn, I asked Lady Yamaoto what kissing a woman was like and what making love with a woman was like. I asked because I am a virgin in these matters. Truly, I am. I cannot have sex with you. Either of you. I do not know how to. I would not dare mortify myself in that way, and I apologize for making both of you uncomfortable."
"It's not the sex thing per se. Just, you and Yalia are home alone a lot."
"Like I said, I shall move out. I hope this disallays your fears."
"Allays," Yalia mumbled. "No prefix -dis."
"Ah," Anne said. "Allays, then. Allays."
Helen felt like the cold from outside had seeped into her pores. Snowwoman Helen. She had told Anne all wrong. Her words had not come out the way she wanted them to. Had they? No. She could not let Anne leave. "I didn't mean you had to move out," Helen protested. "I just thought we should have a conversation about what's going on. Or what might be going on. Maybe I'm wrong about what I think I'm picking up on."
Anne managed a smile, but for a tiny second, she looked like a woman who had been smacked in the face. "I will move out. Good afternoon." Anne headed down the hall.
"Shit," Helen said. "Shit, shit. I fucked that up."
Yalia's expression was grim. "I wouldn't do that to you, you know. I wouldn't carry on an affair with Anne."
"I just...God. God. I hate how she makes me feel."
"Why do you hate it? Because you're married? Because you don't want to hurt me?"
"I guess."
"Anne saved us. You know that. We'd be living apart by now if not for her. Maybe it's a good thing, not a bad thing. Our feelings."
"Yes, perhaps." Helen gathered the dishes and went to the sink.
Yalia got up. "Put that aside for a minute." She put her arms around Helen, and Helen let herself sink into the embrace. Yalia smelled good, as always. She had used coconut shampoo for her morning shower. Yalia nibbled Helen's earlobe, and she had magic lips. Helen felt her pussy rear its head. A familiar throbbing and a familiar wetness began. "Let's take it day by day," Yalia said. "This is one of these times where maybe looking at the big picture does more harm than good. The three of us are mature enough, I hope, to uh...you know. Whatever. To stop something if we need to."
Helen pressed her body, her need, into Yalia. She did not feel particularly mature at that moment. She felt anything but mature when she contemplated the past three years with her wife, but she would go along with Yalia's take. "Okay, love. Will you talk to Anne?"
*****
Yalia knocked on Anne's door. The Puritanical part of Yalia was horrified, as it had been with Tiffany and Gina. However, more of her, much more of her, felt delicious. Her nerves were atingle, as they had not been in many years. It was the special kind of atingle that only accompanies falling in love. Having Anne would do wonders for her and Helen. For Yalia as a person, too. Here goes nothing. Or not.
Anne answered a moment later, her head held up, her expression haughty. She was every bit a queen, and her jeans and zombie BRAAAAAINS! T-shirt did not dilute the effect. "Yes, Lady Yamaoto?"
"May I come in for a moment?"
"Very well."
Yalia stepped in, leaving the door half open. She was unsure where to position herself. Sitting on the bed might seem overly familiar. So, fine, she would stay put near the dresser drawers. Thing was, words suddenly escaped her. She had no idea what to do. What to say.
Anne rescued her from having to talk. "I did a terrible thing. I know it. I played with a married man for years. I seduced him at last and got pregnant with his child. I caused irreparable grief to Katherine's heart. But you must understand I did not want to. My father made me. I hate reading the books and watching the movies and the television shows. They portray me to be a harlot and a schemer. I am not." Anne bit her lip. "That is not entirely true. I got caught up in my father's plots. How could I not? I had to survive somehow. I had to make my days mean something."
"Helen isn't accusing you of anything." Yalia made sure to keep her tones soothing.
"If I was the Anne Boleyn the media makes me out to be, I would have seduced Benjamin and Josiah."
"The media gets a shit ton wrong. Look, Anne. Helen's scared, that's all. Her words maybe did not come out as she intended."
"She will see she has no need to be scared. I will not involve myself with you."
Yalia felt as if she were teetering precariously on the edge of a cliff. "Helen has feelings for you. So do I. That's what scares us, especially since we have not known you long."
"All the more reason for me to move out."
Yalia could not argue with Anne's logic. She did have a point, a thick, black point. Yalia's argument that they were three mature adults receded into a puny twig of a point. Anne was, obviously, nowhere near emotionally ready for what Helen wanted.
"Perhaps I will look for an apartment near Galludet," Anne said. "I should experience living alone. I have been dependent on others all my life. No more. I look forward to obtaining a new residence and being independent."
"Do you really?"
"I do."
*****
In the evening, Anne took a shower. She rubbed Oil of Olay anti-aging cream onto her face. Her hands came away bloody. The nosebleeds were back.
Shit.
Chapter
Twelve
"How are you feeling?" Yalia asked Helen in bed that night. "Feeling okay?"
I feel like shit. "Do you think Anne will really move out?"
"I think she will. She's stubborn. She's determined. She's like you."
Helen ran her tongue across her teeth. "I should've kept my fucking mouth shut. Communication is overrated."
Knock knock.
Helen's heart leaped. Anne's decided to stay with us tonight. "Come in. Door's unlocked."
Anne stepped in, timidly. "I cannot sleep."
Helen grinned. "Come here, then. Stay with us tonight."
"This call is not for pleasure. I must inform you of something."
"What's wrong?" Yalia asked.
Anne's hand went to her nose. "I am scared. I had a nosebleed in the shower a few hours ago. I have debated since whether to tell you."
Damn. Helen got out of bed and took Anne by the shoulders. "Was it a bad nosebleed?"
"I do not think so. I think it was the same as the other two."
"We have to call Benjamin."
"I should like to wait a few more days to see if the problem worsens."
"Or maybe you should call in the morning."
"I prefer to wait."
Damn. Damn. Fucking nosebleeds.
"Have you had any further bleeds?" Anne asked.
"Nope.
Thank goodness." Helen mentally crossed herself. No jinx.
"I am glad, Lady Franklin."
Time Traveler Zero. Helen had perhaps postponed the matter too long, and this was as good a time as any to broach it. She wanted to know which famous person her mother had been. "Who was my mother in her other time?"
After a second's delay, Anne looked at Helen with surprise. And dismay. "Helen," was all Anne said, pathetically.
Whoa. "You called me Helen."
"I suppose I did."
"Good. I'm glad."
"Anne," Yalia said. "Do you think Helen is Time Traveler Zero?"
Helen was not sure she heard right. She laughed. "Don't be silly. Of course I'm not Time Traveler Zero."
"You don't know that."
"I'd know if I was a time traveler," Helen shot back.
Anne did not laugh. Or smile. Nothing. She said: "Very well, I shall say it. My suspicion is that you, Helen, are Time Traveler Zero."
Helen was stunned into silence.
"How?" Yalia whispered.
"Benjamin would have to explain. I do not know."
"What makes you think she is?"
"Something Helen's mother said when she showed me pictures of Helen. 'Look at her nose. She does not look like either of us, does she?' It was how she said it and how her expression was sad. Also, how many forty-six-year-old women get pregnant naturally? Some do. But not many."
"Is Helen a famous person?"
"I suspect her parents got her while they were in Victorian London. Who she is, I do not know. She may be famous. Or not. She may simply be Helen Franklin. I may be wrong. My assumption is she probably is not famous. She was perhaps an experiment. If she were famous, her parents would keep her like a zoo animal also, do you not think?"
"I'm here, you know," Helen mustered at last. "I'm fucking here."
*****
Helen retreated to her office for space and privacy. She
got on the phone with Benjamin, damn the fact it was one-whatever a.m.
"Are you not at liberty to do me the courtesy of letting me know I'm a
fucking time traveler because my father thought I could not handle the
news?"
Benjamin sighed, a long, drawn-out sigh. "Dr.
Franklin."
"Cut the crap. Tell me who I am."
"You should have known, but your mother and your
father said...well. Anyway, let us not dwell on it. Now that you know, how
about a quick examination first thing in the morning? I will tell you this; I
have been wrestling within myself for many days about informing you because I
would very much like to examine you."
Helen ignored the fact that her heart had frozen over. She
barked a bitter laugh. "I can't be Time Traveler Zero. That's preposterous."
"If you're up for a thorough exam, great, but quick is
fine. I'd like a head scan, a body chromatography analysis, and--"
"My mother wouldn't have...she was my mother. She was
my mother."
"Yes. She was your mother. Come in and see your
file."
"I can't be Time Traveler Zero. I've never
faded."
"You were retrieved when you were a newborn. Maybe
that is why you don't seem to have experienced any fades, because you were
taken so young. Or maybe it's because you were almost dead and are dead in your
original time. Or maybe because you were taken in a more recent time than me
and Anne. I've gone over your examinations from when you were a child. Nothing
there, but maybe now there will be. Also, we cannot know for certain you never
faded. It is possible you did, when your mother had her back to you or
something of that sort."
Helen blinked furiously. "What time? What recent
time?"
"Your parents' honeymoon," Benjamin said gently.
"They stayed only twelve hours, because in the Whitechapel area, they came
upon a pool of blood, and a woman and a newborn in an alley. The mother was
dead, and at first they thought the baby was too. However, your mother detected
a faint pulse. 'We have to take her back now,' she said. Your father said no,
that was tempting history, tempting fate. Taking a person back was not part of
their plan. But your mother insisted that she couldn't leave a baby to die.
Your parents returned home, with you. Your mother nursed you back to health,
and quite frankly, your father never forgave her for taking you."
It made perfect sense. It explained why Josiah Franklin had
never quite treated Helen like his child. But she could not accept what
Benjamin was saying, not yet. "It's not true."
"You're Time Traveler Zero," Benjamin repeated.
"It's true. You were born in 1901. Your parents monitored you carefully
for years. Gradually they began to feel that they had not violated any laws of
the universe. They talked again about traveling. Your mother understood that
your father would always be angry at her for taking you. So she proposed an
idea he would never be able to refuse. An idea that would make them even."
"Getting you?"
"You do not sound well. Shall I send Ted in? I will
retrieve your file and send it to Ted electronically so that you may--"
Helen ended the conversation with a click. Benjamin was
lying. Had to be. No way Icarus, or anyone, had time travel in 1972. She was
Helen Franklin, Helen Eliza Franklin, born in 1972, forty years old. No one
else. Helen Franklin! Not TT0, not Time Traveler Zero.
*****
"You asleep?" Yalia asked Anne.
"No."
Yalia tapped the lamp on. She and Anne were together in bed. Helen had said she wanted to be alone and so was spending the night in Anne's room. Helen had been furious at everyone: her parents, Benjamin, and Anne.
"I should have told her earlier," Anne said.
"You weren't sure. Why worry her, especially if Benjamin had refused to confirm?"
"I still should have told her earlier."
"Me too," Yalia said. "Don't take it personally, though. When Helen gets red-hot mad, she isolates herself. It works for her. It calms her."
Anne inched forward. Kiss me, please. "You going to call me Yalia now, too?"
A shy smile. "I can."
"Don't move out," Yalia said. "Please."
"I must."
"Helen and I won't hurt you."
"I know you will not."
Yalia put her head on Anne's chest. Yalia's eyelids were heavy, and then she heard Louis, heard the smile in his voice. "How have you been, Yalia?"
Go away.
"I'm hanging around for a bit."
Go away. Please.
"You got to go back in time. That's cool. I don't have any more time. I'm dead. You killed me."
I know. Fuck, I know. Leave me alone!
"You're mean." Louis started to cry.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't cry...
"Bye," Louis said with a sniffle. He left.
*****
Helen listened and Benjamin frowned as Anne explained about the two group trips to 1536, Anne's delayed return on the second trip, and the nosebleeds. "That is not good news," Benjamin said.
"I imagined it was not," Anne replied.
Benjamin sighed. He leaned back in his chair and made a steeple with his hands. "I get them, too. Each time I return here after a fade, I get a nosebleed within five days." He gave Anne a meaningful look. "Your fades from now on may be uncontrolled, like mine."
"How lovely."
Benjamin chuckled. "I am fond of your wit."
The hairs on Helen's neck bristled. How dare Benjamin treat this moment as deserving of humor?
Benjamin talked quickly, dizzyingly, giving a rundown of the tests he was going to perform on her and Anne. Yalia, because she had been to 1536 twice, had the dubious honor of having to do the tests, too. Anne, at Helen's side, listened gravely. These tests were probably old hat for her. Yalia's expression was somber as well. Helen was not at the point of feeling somber. She was still angry, indescribably angry. Josiah and Regina Franklin were not her parents; a woman who died in 1901, and who probably was a prostitute, was her mother. Goodness knew who her father was.
Helen interrupted Benjamin's testing rundown: "If you get the time machines going again, can we see where I was...can we see my abduction?"
"We may be able to."
"I want to know my mother. And my father." Helen had a vision of herself tracking her mother down to when her mother was a child and getting to know her that way. That might be nice. Might not be. Shit. Stop. This was worse than playing with fire. This was the freaking space-time continuum.
"Let's discuss that later. We need to get the tests finished."
Helen crossed her arms. "Fine."
The next few
hours were a blur to her. Most of the time, she was vaguely aware she was in
alien machines and that various gee-gaws were doing things to her. Needles drew
blood from her. Other fluid samples were taken. Helen did not care; she was
merely going through the motions. I was
born in 1901, and I am dead.
I am dead.
I am dead.
I am dead.
I died as a newborn.
Testing finished around lunchtime, and Benjamin urged Anne to stay at the building because of the risk of uncontrolled fades. She declined.
Anne, Helen and Yalia went to a TGI Friday's for lunch.
"What did you two do in my bed last night, huh?" Helen asked. "Y'all fuck?"
Twin flinches from Anne and Yalia. "No," Yalia said.
"Huh. Huh." Jealousy and irritation flared through Helen. She had been suffering last night, but her wife and Anne had probably been happy go lucky, kissing their fucking brains out. Helen tore into her chicken fingers and French fries with gutso. Anything to avoid having to look at Anne. Anne who had lied to her, Anne who was probably fucking her wife. This polyamory thing was not going to work. This baby-sitting Anne Boleyn shtick was not going to work. Yes, Anne definitely had to move out. Helen had enough shit to worry about already. Do not say anything out of anger. Do not say anything you will regret later.
"You will enjoy living alone," Helen said.
Anne cast her gaze downward. "I suspect so."
"It's liberating. Everyone should try it. We'll look for apartments this afternoon."
"Very well," Anne whispered.
Yalia stabbed her fork into her baked potato.
Helen felt a terrible tenseness in her body. Well, shit. You went and did it. She cleared her throat. "Anne, I didn't mean..." Shit, shit. "I was angry, more so at other people than at you. You don't need to move out."
Anne shook her head. "I did wrong, not you. I crossed a line, and I am happy to move out." She rallied for a smile. "I look forward to the experience."
*****
Hoppity, skippity, jumpity, Anne thought one week later. She liked the phrase, which she had invented. Hoppity, skippity, jumpity, hoppity, skippity, jumpity, hoppity, skippity, jumpity. She had found a jump rope at Helen and Yalia's house and had skipped in their driveway. She was actually pretty good.
Anne got out of bed. She rummaged through her largest suitcase for the jump rope, which she had sneaked in with her. It was unlikely Helen and Yalia would miss it. She brought it back to bed with her. Hoppity, skippity, jumpity. Amazing how fast she had moved out. She had taken the first apartment they looked at. It would do, and she was not in the mood to be selective. She wanted to get matters over with.
So, a week after
that dreadful TGI Friday's lunch, here Anne was for her first night in her very
own Eastern Market studio apartment. It was in a converted townhouse about five
minutes' drive from Gallaudet.
Who knew what was going on? Certainly not Anne. She wrapped the jump rope around her arms and tried not to cry. She would not feel sorry for herself. Helen was right. Anne needed to learn to live on her own. Getting entangled and dependent on Helen and Yalia would only cause problems in the long term. Their relationship would be unhealthy. At least Anne would get to see Helen tomorrow, when she met Helen at a nearby Starbucks after Helen's classes. The past week had been busy. Anne had packed again and met several times with Greg Hernandez, the friend of Yalia's who owned an art gallery. He had loved her work and would shoehorn her in an art show next week.
Life is good, Anne
thought. Life is good, life is good.
Life S-U-C-K-S. She liked being a potty mouth if the occasion called for it.
*beeeeep*
Anne checked her phone for the text. It was from Yalia. "Good night from me and Helen," Yalia had typed. Matters among the three of them had been strained the past week. No kissing, no touching, no sleeping together.
Anne did not reply, because what she wanted to say was: "Come get me. I do not like being alone. I think I am in love with you both." Anne tucked the phone under her bed and pictured Yalia, Yalia's smile. "Good night," Anne said. "I am sorry we are over before we began."
*****
"Feels weird without Anne," Helen said.
"Yep," Yalia agreed. Anne had been at the house such a short time, but Yalia keenly felt her absence.
"She'll be fine. We'll be fine. This was needed, really. She wants to be independent."
"Yep." Yalia picked up on the dubiousness in Helen's comment, and she knew that if Helen could take back the conversation at TGIF, she would.
Helen ran a hand down Yalia's stomach and onto her pussy. "That feels nice," Yalia said, and it did. Would feel nicer if Anne was here, though.
"Do you think you love her?" Helen asked.
"Anne?"
"Yes."
Yalia raised an
eyebrow. "No, of course not. Love takes time to develop. The genuine,
thick, solid kind." Yes. I love her.
I lust her very much, anyway.
Wow, Louis said. No kidding.
Shut up, shut up. "Do you love Anne?"
"I..." Helen sighed. She stole a look at Yalia. "I saw how you looked at her last night. It was just for a couple of seconds, right when she won Monopoly. You had a look in your eyes."
"Answer my question. Do you love her?"
"Why are we talking about Anne? She's gone. She's out of here."
"Okay," Yalia said. "Never mind."