“Then why do we call her ‘Mummy’?”
“Because she hates it,” Mary said with a grin.
“Good girl,” Susan murmured. “And who are the McGowans? I gather Jimmy’s dead, but who is Jack and what does he want with Tallulah?”
“You grew up with them. Well, with Jimmy really—Jack was older. You and Jimmy were best friends growing up, and you always said you were going to get married. But you always had a huge crush on Jack, even when you were fighting with him.”
“And what did Jack feel about Lou?”
Mary shrugged. “You were his brother’s girlfriend. I don’t think he thought much beyond that. He was going out with real women, and you were just a kid with a crush on him. I’m not sure he even knew.”
“Did Jimmy know?”
“Jimmy knew Lou better than she knew herself. I don’t think he minded. He always worshiped his older brother. Don’t you remember...no, of course you don’t.”
“Remember what?”
“Lou showed me a letter Jimmy sent her. It arrived after he was killed, and it was kinda nice but kinda creepy. It was like he knew he was going to die. And he said that if something happened to him you should marry Jack That Jack would take care of you.”
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” Susan shot back.
“Lou doesn’t either. But you know men—they don’t realize that They think women are fragile little flowers who have to be protected from life.”
“Poor Lou,” Susan murmured. “And what does Jack think about all this? Does he know his brother thought he should take on his fiancée?”
“I don’t think so. It wouldn’t matter—I can’t see Jack doing anything he doesn’t want to do, even for Jimmy’s sake, and he really loved Jimmy.”
Susan leaned back on the bed, reaching up to touch her mouth. He’d kissed her. Kissed Tallulah, that was. In the garage, just as Jake Wyczynski had kissed Susan. And she wondered what it had been like. Whether it was as unsettling as Jake’s kiss had been to a much more experienced Susan Abbott.
She felt so strange, like she was floating somewhere in space, looking down at Tallulah Abbott fifty years in the past She touched her face, and it felt like her face and yet it wasn’t. Her body, and yet Tallulah’s.
“You need to sleep,” Mary announced in a gently critical voice. “With any luck this is all some crazy dream. You’ll wake up tomorrow and be Lou again.”
“I’d rather wake up and be Susan.” She shivered, still unaccountably cold. “Back in my own time.”
“Maybe you will,” Mary said. She pulled a blanket around Susan, tucking it against her with gentle hands, and Susan looked up at her in surprise. It was so very strange to see this little girl taking care of her with instinctive maternal care.
“If I’m gone I want you to know something,” Susan said suddenly. “You’re a wonderful mother. The best anyone could hope for.”
Mary grinned, suddenly looking no more than her nine years of age. “That’s encouraging to hear. And what about your father? Is he wonderful, too?”
Susan bit her lip. “I don’t think I should tell you too much about the future. You’re probably better off not knowing.”
“That doesn’t sound very cheerful. I want to be a world-famous diplomat, I want to marry William Holden, and I want to win an Oscar and have five children. Are you going to tell me that won’t happen?” There was humor in her young voice.
“Those are pretty grandiose dreams.”
“That’s what being young is all about At least I know I can manage the five children,” Mary said. “The rest will happen if I work hard enough for it.”
“Anything can happen if you work hard enough and dream hard enough,” Susan said. “You taught me that.”
Mary shook her head. “Go to sleep, Lou. I enjoyed meeting my daughter, even if I think you’re a little bit screwy.”
“I enjoyed meeting you, Mary.”
The room was still and dark when Mary closed the door behind her. Susan nestled down on the bed, shivering slightly in the warm night air. She ought to get up and take off these horrendously uncomfortable clothes. In particular, the bra and girdle that seemed like medieval instruments of torture. She definitely wasn’t made for time travel. At least she hadn’t gone back to the time of whalebone corsets. Rubber was bad enough.
She closed her eyes and let the night fold quietly around her. This had to be a strange, twisted sort of dream. Did people go to sleep in dreams? Did they dream within dreams? She had no idea. All she knew was that she wanted to wake up in her own bed, in her own decade. She didn’t want to be here, trapped in Lou’s body. She didn’t want to many the wrong man.
