“Hello, I’m Maggie Cooper,” Mama said, “and this is my daughter—” She paused, and I wondered if she had almost said,and your daughter. “Grace.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Tacy said. “I’ve read all about your flight across America, Miss Cooper. You can imagine my great honor and surprise to welcome you into my home. Won’t you come into the parlor?”
My pulse thrummed as we followed her into the beautiful front room, which had large windows facing the street and the manicured side lawn. The room was gracefully decorated with expensive furnishings, though it was not ostentatious. Large potted ferns adorned the corners of the room.
“Please have a seat. I’ve asked Katie to bring us tea.”
“We’re sorry it’s so close to the supper hour,” I said as Mama and I took seats next to each other on the sofa, while Tacy sat on the chair opposite from us. “I just arrived in Los Angeles at noon and had a few things that I needed to do before we could come.”
Tacy smiled, but her brow came together in confusion again. “You just completed your cross-country flight at noon, and you came here? Am I to assume you’d like to discuss making a movie with our film company?”
I glanced at Mama and then leaned forward, not wanting to make Tacy wait another moment. “This may come as a surprise—actually, I know it will.” I tried not to get emotional and had to stop for a second. “Are you Tacy Barclay of New York City?”
Her frown deepened, and she started to look more suspicious than curious. “Yes.”
“And—” I paused, hoping I had not gotten this terribly wrong, because if I had, she would think I had lost my mind. “Are you the same Tacy Howlett who once lived in Massachusetts? A very long time ago?”
Tacy’s face became completely still and devoid of confusion. In its place was shock—pure and complete. “How do you know?”
I briefly closed my eyes as the truth sank deep within my soul. This was my other mother. When I opened my eyes again, tears rimmed my lashes and fell down my cheeks.
“I’m one of the twin girls you gave birth to in 1667.”
Her mouth slid open, and her chest rose and fell on short, quick breaths. She stared at me, shaking her head. “What did you just say?”
“I’m Grace, one of your daughters.”
Tacy stood, her face pale. “You’rethatGrace?”
I also stood, nodding. “This is my second path. Maggie is my mother and is also a time-crosser.”
Mama rose, wiping her cheeks, as she extended her hand to Tacy once again. This time meeting her in a way that could not be expressed but only felt.
Tacy took Mama’s hand—almost like an anchor—as she continued to stare at me. “You’re my daughter? How is this possible? I had no idea what other path you occupied, so I had not even tried to look for you here.”
“We only just realized ourselves,” I told her as I wiped at my tears, “or I would have come much sooner.”
Tacy let go of Mama’s hand and took a step toward me. We were the same height. She looked me over with awe and then pulled me into her arms.
I closed my eyes as I embraced the mother I had never known. So many emotions swam through my heart. There was so much to say—so much to hear. But all we could do was hug each other. The irony was that her physical body had given birth to my physical body in 1667—the bodies we were not currently occupying. But our hearts, our souls, our very spirits were the same, and that was all that mattered.
When she finally pulled back, her face was washed in tears, but she was smiling. “Thank God He brought us together.” Shebriefly glanced at the ceiling, a grin on her face as she shook her head. “He has such a way, doesn’t He?”
I laughed. “He certainly does.”
“Sit. There is so much I long to know. Where is Hope? How did you learn about me?”
“Sit beside her,” Mama said as she moved out of the way, giving Tacy space to sit on the sofa with me.
“And you!” Tacy turned to Mama. “You’re also a time-crosser? When I died in Boston, my biggest fear was that the girls would have no guide. I knew that Uriah would remove them from my family, and it has plagued me for twenty-four years. But the entire time, they had a guide—right here. I’m shocked—and so very pleased.”
“We think that’s why they are twins,” Mama said to Tacy. “Because they have two time-crossing mothers.”
“This is unbelievable.” Tacy studied me as if trying to memorize every detail. “Tell me, where is Hope?” But then something dawned in her eyes, and she leaned close to me. “Is shethatHope Cooper? Who flew over the English Channel and died in Boston in July?”
I nodded, the truth still stinging with an intensity that made me catch my breath. “She’s in 1692—and wishes she could meet you herself. She sends her love and is eagerly awaiting my report tomorrow.” I glanced at Mama, my mood falling. “But she’s being held in the Salem gaol under accusation of witchcraft.”
Tacy closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she opened them again. “I feared such a thing might happen to you both, knowing that your time would align with the trials. But I did not look for your names in the history books. It was too painful.”
