Mine Tomorrow (7 page)

So many of his shipmates on the Bunker Hill had not. Their faces, their fates, everything about that day haunted him. But now that Gregory was back stateside, he was determined to celebrate life, rather than live it feeling guilty that it was but a fluke that he wasn’t among the fallen. He wasn’t where he normally would have been when the first kamikaze pilot crashed onto the ship as it cruised the waters off the coast of Kyushu, Japan.

If he had been…

As he had dozens of times before, Gregory shook off the thought. To drive home the point for both of them, he told her, “I’m here now, Devin, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her gaze clouded and a deep groove of consternation formed between her brows.

“What if…what if it wasn’t you? What if something…something bad happened to me?”

She said the words slowly in a voice so low that Gregory was forced to lean closer to catch the words, and even then he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

“Devin? What do you—”

Before he could finish, however, her eyes rolled backward and she fainted.

Chapter Eight

Gregory gathered Devin close before she could slump to the hard pavement. They went down together with him cradling her in his arms. Calling her name, he tried to rouse her by patting one of her clammy cheeks. Her eyelids flickered a few times before they stayed open. Even then her gaze appeared out of focus.

“Wh-what happened?” she asked in a breathy whisper.

“You fainted.”

“Gregory?” She blinked as if just seeing him. She sounded incredulous.

“It’s me. I’m right here.” He forced a smile.

“Yes…yes you are.” She glanced around before her gaze connected with his again. “Or maybe it’s more precise to say that I’m still here.”

He wasn’t sure how to gauge the accuracy of her statement. Devin wasn’t making much sense, but he nodded anyway and helped her to her feet.

Her complexion was a pasty white and her skin remained clammy to his touch.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m in 1945.”

She definitely was not making sense. “I think we’d better get you out of the heat. Maybe I should take you to the hospital for a checkup.”

But she shook her head. “No. I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just hungry, and I could use a glass of water.”

They were mere feet from the diner’s entrance, but he hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” The corners of her mouth lifted in a poor facsimile of a smile and she said, “I’m feeling better already.”

Given how pale she still was, that seemed a stretch, but he nodded.

“All right, but if your color doesn’t come back within the next few minutes, I’m taking you to the hospital, even if I have to carry you into the emergency room kicking and screaming.”

“That won’t be necessary, I promise,” she said dryly. Then she threw him for a loop. “I…I need you to do something for me, Gregory.”

“All right,” he agreed warily. “What is it?”

Instead of spilling it, however, she hesitated. “This favor…It’s a lot to ask.”

That had his curiosity good and piqued. “How about if you let me be the judge?”

She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and began. “I know you have questions about what happened to me while you were gone.”

He glanced at the watch. Indeed he did.

“Can you wait to ask them?”

“Devin—”

“Just for today,” she added quickly and reached for his hands.

“We need to talk. Whatever happened, I’ll understand.” And he would, Gregory thought. He had to. He wasn’t going to lose her again.

“I know. But just for today, can we…can we turn back time and pretend that we’ve just met.”

As tempting as that was, he felt the need to point out, “Whatever is wrong between us, it won’t go away on its own. We need to work it out, exorcise those fears of yours.”

Gregory knew that for a fact. Seeing her again, spending time with her, making love to her—all of it was wonderful, but temporary, too, if she didn’t trust him, if she didn’t have faith in their love to prevail. Still, he was willing to stave off the inevitable for a little longer.

“So, we’ve just met?” he asked.

She exhaled slowly. “Yes.”

“Which would make this our first date?”

The corners of her mouth tipped up. “That’s right.”

“For the record, if this were our first date, I would be taking you someplace a lot fancier than this diner.”

“Such as Murzel’s?”

“I was thinking of Hoffman’s on Forty-Ninth, and not for a late lunch, but for dinner and dancing. The works.”

“Hoffman’s! I know that place!” she said excitedly. Some of the color had come back into her cheeks.

He laughed in surprise. “You should. It’s where we ate after our wedding. You said it was the perfect place to celebrate an important occasion.”

Her smile turned overly bright. “And it’s still there. I took Emily for Sunday brunch when she got accepted to New York University.”

“I should hope it’s still there. It only opened a couple years ago.”

“Right. It’s very upscale and old school.”

Her description struck him as odd. “Old school? What does that mean?”

“Um, it’s…it’s just a saying. And since we’re going on the record, I want to make it clear I don’t sleep with men on a first date or before one.”

He chuckled. “I already know that. It was the tenth, as I recall. Our wedding night.”

Her eyes rounded, almost as if she were surprised. But then she smiled. “A very short engagement.”

“Too long, in my opinion.” He sobered. “I knew right away you were the one for me, Devin.”

Gregory took her hand, kissed the back of it. His lips lingered just above the band that he had slipped on her finger at the courthouse that day mere months earlier. Had she taken that band off while he was overseas? Perhaps tried to sell it just as Sal claimed she’d wanted to sell the watch? It was cheap, but it would have brought in a few dollars at least.

He didn’t want to believe she could be playing him for a fool, not after today.

“Do you love me, Devin?”

He held his breath while he awaited her reply, but he needn’t have bothered. She smiled in full, eyes alight with certainty.

“I may not be sure of anything else at the moment, but that much I know. I love you, Gregory Prescott. I think I loved you even before we met.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear. Exactly what he needed her to say.

“All right, then. Today, we’ll enjoy our time together. But tomorrow we will have that talk. As soon as we awake, Devin.”

She nodded, but her smile faltered ever so slightly when she repeated, “When we awake.”

Chapter Nine

Devin still felt a bit woozy. Was it from the heat? Was it because she was so hungry and possibly dehydrated as well? Those were plausible culprits, she supposed. But that rushing sound she’d experienced in her ears just before she’d fainted, along with the nausea, rising panic and overwhelming sense of foreboding…They were not as easily explained away. Not when they lingered even now.

Dear Mrs. Prescott, we regret to inform you…

She pinched her eyes shut. This time, instead of trying to “remember” what the telegram had said, she blocked out the words. She didn’t want to know.

She was grateful for the arm Gregory had around her waist. His support was not only physical, but emotional, as well.

When she’d come around after her fainting spell, she’d been a little surprised to be still in 1945. She half expected to open her eyes to find herself in her apartment. Or maybe even the shop with a distressed Emily hovering over her.

The fact that she hadn’t begged a new question: What if this wasn’t a dream?

What if everything was real, including her life with Gregory?

Reincarnation? She’d never believed in it before, but something had happened to Gregory and his wife. Something had torn them apart. She recalled the letter that had been found in the apartment. A letter addressed to Devin. She’d thought it an odd coincidence at the time, but now?

Come back to me.

She couldn’t stop wondering, had she?

Was it possible that Devin had somehow traveled back through time to be with the only man she had ever loved?

* * *

The diner’s sign read Dandy’s, but Devin knew the place as Helen’s Home Cooking. Through the window she could see that it sported the same checkered-pattern tile work and chrome-based stools at the counter. The familiarity was soothing, and exactly what she needed at the moment.

Inside, the restaurant was surprisingly crowded given that it was mid-afternoon. Just as she was going to suggest they grab the last two stools at the counter, a table opened up at the back. A harried-looking waitress in a pale blue uniform, starched white apron and heels dropped off a pair of menus.

“I’ll be right with you,” she promised before hurrying away.

The man at the table next to them lit up a cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke in Devin’s direction. Where Helen’s Home Cooking was smoke-free, Dandy’s didn’t even have a non-smoking section. She waved a hand as the smell caused her nostrils to burn and her eyes to sting.

“God, that’s a filthy habit,” she muttered before she could stop to wonder if Gregory smoked.

He hadn’t so far, not even the stereotypical cigarette as they’d lain in bed basking in the afterglow of great sex, but…

To her relief, he replied, “I know what you mean. I never cared for the smell, much less the taste.”

Not surprisingly, he made no mention of lung cancer. The health risks associated with tobacco use and secondhand smoke had not yet been clearly documented.

He was saying, “My grandfather smoked. He used to roll his own cigarettes.”

“Mine did, as well. A lot of people did back then.” Of course, in Devin’s case, the
back then
she was referring to was
right now
. “No one knew any better.”

The waitress returned. Devin pegged the woman to be in her mid-twenties, although she seemed more mature than most of the twenty-somethings who came by Yesterday’s Closet wearing their trendy ripped denim with body piercings and tattoos galore. Her up-do hairstyle and ruby lips added to the effect.

According to the badge on her uniform, her name was Irene.

“Today’s special is a hot turkey sandwich and a slice of cherry pie.” The price she quoted was ridiculously low.

“That sounds good,” Gregory commented. “Devin?”

“Make it two.”

Despite the heat outside, they ordered coffee as well. After Devin took her first sip, her gaze was drawn to the bright red mark on the cup’s rim. Her lipstick nearly the same bold shade as their waitress’s. Devin had found a tube in the bathroom and put it on before they left the apartment. She normally didn’t wear much more than a clear gloss, but here red lipstick seemed almost a requirement.

As had the silk stockings and pumps, which already had Devin’s arches aching. High heels were not comfortable, even in a dream. If this
was
a dream.

“You have a very odd expression on your face right now,” Gregory said.

“I was just thinking that it’s hard work for a woman to look good. The hairstyles, the shoes, but maybe especially the clothing.”

Nothing in this era was wash and wear. The dress she’d worn earlier was a case in point. After a couple of hours on the floor, the fabric had become a wrinkled mess. It would need to be pressed before it could be worn again. As much as Devin adored the fashions, she could admit they were less convenient than their twenty-first-century counterparts.

“Perhaps, but it’s completely worth it from my perspective.”

Her heart fluttered. “Maybe I could get used to having to iron everything.”

She knew for a fact she could get used to Gregory’s compliments and covert glances. His thoughtfulness and innate sense of decency. And his lovemaking…Oh, yes. Especially that.

Unfortunately, time wasn’t on her side. The day was half over. If this was a dream, surely once she fell asleep she would awake to reality in her apartment.

Her worry must have shown on her face, because he asked, “What is it, Devin?”

She shook her head. In lieu of the truth, which was too incredible for him to understand anyway, she offered a smile.

“This is a first date, remember? I’m simply trying to decide what I should ask you.” She rubbed her hands together in front of her. “So many possibilities.”

“The pendulum swings both ways, you know.” He bobbed his eyebrows. “Yours isn’t the only curiosity that is going to enjoy satisfaction.”

“Fair enough.”

“Well? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Since she couldn’t very well hit him with the heavy artillery right out of the gate, she asked, “Your favorite author, who is it?”

“Let’s see.” He scratched his cheek. “Probably Earnest Hemingway.”

“Music…or musician?”

“Before I met you, I was partial to jazz. So, if this really were our first date, I’d answer your question by saying Louis Armstrong.” He shifted in his seat. “These days, however, I’ve acquired a taste for pop.”

“Pop, hmm? And who is your favorite pop artist?”

“Bing Crosby.” Gregory winked. “Same as you. Now I have a question.”

“What do you want to know?”

He hesitated just long enough that she expected his reply to be something jaw-dropping. But he asked, “What’s your favorite color?

“Blue. Robin’s egg blue to be exact.”

He smiled. “Like the dress you wore for our wedding.”

“Yes.”

“It’s my favorite color as well.”

“It is not!” Devin laughed.

He drew an imaginary cross over his heart. “It has been since I saw you in it.”

“What was it before?”

“Before I met you, you mean?”

She nodded.

“Hard to say. My life was rather dull then, black and white, sort of like a lot of motion pictures.”

“Red,” Devin speculated. “Am I right?”

“You know you are.”

Did she know? Or had her guess simply been that?

“What’s your favorite movie,” she asked.

“Hmm. I have to think about that. What’s yours?”

“
Gone With the Wind.”
The 1939 classic was one of the only movies she could think of that would have come out by this time period.