Second Time Around (6 page)

Bangor

More than anything in the world, David Stancowsky hated being late. It had taken all his self-control not to hang up on the electrician who’d called him at the office just as he was going out the door. Once he left, he drove way over the speed limit—which was not a good idea on the snow-packed roads of Maine in January. But he had to be on time. Ha.
Time waits for no man…

He’d made arrangements to watch the Time Lottery drawing with Ray Reynolds, the man who should have been his father-in-law. He thought it would be appropriate. If David won, he would be going back to save the life of Ray’s daughter. He and Ray had stayed close all these years but Millie’s mother Rhonda was another story. After Millie’s death, she’d suffered a distressing surge of independence, and had suddenly decided she wanted to be on her own. It made no sense. Ray had done everything for her and as thanks she divorced him? David had heard that she’d remarried, but it was a sore subject that he didn’t bring up in Ray’s presence.

David listened to the Time Lottery coverage on the radio. As he parked at the Woodside Retirement Home, he listened to a man telling about the history of the Time Lottery, how it had come about due to twenty-two years of research. It wouldn’t be long before they’d have the drawing. He had to get into Ray’s room, turn on the set…

With a quick wave, David hurried past the receptionist and raced down Corridor B to Ray’s room. The door was open and he knocked on the jamb. Ray was napping in his recliner. The TV was off. David was torn between politeness and expediency.

He flipped on the set, then shook Ray to waking. “Ray?”

David’s attention was drawn to the television. The same man he’d heard on the radio was talking. “After a person has experienced his or her Alternity for seven days—a measure of seven days in the present, but an undetermined number of days in the past—TTC doctors will introduce a gentle electric burst to the Loop, and a strange phenomenon we call ‘Dual Consciousness’ will kick in.”

Good. They hadn’t got to the drawing yet.

With a groan, Ray sat straighter in the chair. “Oh. David.” He noticed the TV. “Is it that time already?”

David pulled up a chair. “Just.” He found his Time Lottery ticket in his pocket and held it front and center.

The man on TV continued: “One more thing before we draw names. You need to know that nothing the person does in the past will affect things in our present. If someone goes back and decides not to have children in her Alternity, her children in the here and now will not suddenly disappear. So don’t worry. Each Alternity is separate and distinct, a world within itself.”

Ray shook his head. “I still don’t understand how that works. How can something in the past not affect the future?”

David did
not
want to discuss it now. It was hard not to shush the older man. Instead he put a hand on Ray’s knee. “They’re going to draw the names now.”

Ray patted his hand. “Good luck, David.”

“Thanks.”

The man on TV led a stunning blond back to the revolving globe, which was twice their height. When the globe stopped its spin, David felt his heart stop, too. This was it. His one chance to find happiness in the arms of his true love. His Millie.

A small door was at the woman’s eye level, the pieces of paper plastered to the globe’s interior. The man opened it only enough for her to extract three tickets. She held them protectively against her chest.

“May I?” she asked.

The man extended a hand, giving his permission. Together they moved to the edge of the stage.

David forced himself to breathe.

“Ouch!” Ray said.

David realized he’d squeezed the old man’s hand too tightly. He released it and let his hand do damage to its mate against his chest.

The blond smiled at the cameras and took a breath. “The first winner of the Time Lottery is… David Stancowsky, number 285937840.”

David stared at the ticket. Had he heard—?

Ray slapped him on the back. “That’s you, David! Will you look at that, you won!”

David began to sob.

Peachtree City, Georgia

“Hand me the seam cutter,” Vanessa said from the ladder. “I think it’s on the floor next to the water tray.”

Dudley complied and Vanessa trimmed the wallpaper at the ceiling, then climbed down and surveyed the dining room. “I hope I have enough paper. If only I hadn’t made that mistake above the door. I really would like to finish before Daddy comes to dinner Friday. He never has liked our old wallpaper so I’m hoping he likes—”

Dudley stood directly in front of her and made a time-out T with his hands. “Break time.”

Vanessa picked up a roll of paper. “I can’t. If we stop, it won’t get done and—”

Dudley tossed his arms in the air. “You are a piece of work, Vanessa Caldwell. I’ve played along, taking an extra day off work because I thought you might need me to help you deal with your mother’s will and the letters. But I did not want to spend the time wallpapering a room that was perfectly fine simply because you feel some need to be an overachiever.”

“The wallpaper was eight years old. It was time for a change.”

He sighed, dismissing her lie for what it was. “Actually, I stayed home because of something else that’s happening today.” He checked his watch. “Happening now, in fact.”

Vanessa found the tape measure under a pile of scraps. “Was the measurement for a full strip ninety-six or ninety-eight?”

“Who cares?” Dudley drilled a finger on his watch. “The Time Lottery announcement is on. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that, didn’t remember—” He watched her a moment, then nodded. “Ah, you
did
know
.
You
did
remember. You’re chicken.”

If the shoe fits...
“I don’t see any reason to watch when the chances of me winning are worse than the chances of me being crowned Miss America.”

He took the tape measure from her. “Suit yourself. I was just thinking of you.”

As usual. Dudley was good at thinking about Vanessa, being the essence of polite, doing all the right things. Suddenly, she thought of something. “Are you happy, Dudley?”

“What?”

“Are you completely satisfied with your life? Our life?”

He snapped the metal tape measure into its holder, pulled it out, and let it snap back again. “We have a good life. Sure, there are things I’d like to change, but—”

“Did you buy a Time Lottery ticket?”

He set the tape measure on the table and went into the family room.

She hurried after him. “You
did
buy a ticket?”

He used the remote to turn on the TV. “You had one. I figured I should, too.”

Dudley never complained, always acted as if everything was fine. Funny how the word
fine
suddenly made her skin crawl. She took a seat at the other end of the couch. “What choice would you like to change in your past?”

He shrugged.

She angled toward him. “Don’t give me that. You must have thought about it or you wouldn’t have bought a ticket.”

He pointed to the screen. “Shh. They’re announcing it right now.”

A classy woman whom Vanessa recognized but couldn’t place moved to the edge of the stage. She held three tickets.

Vanessa was just forming the thought,
This is ridiculous,
when the woman on TV began.

“The first winner of the Time Lottery is… David Stancowsky, number 285937840.” There was applause.

“One down…,” Dudley said.

“Two to—”

“The second winner of the Time Lottery is Vanessa Pruitt, number 583920589.”

It was as if the applause on the TV was in the room with them. Vanessa looked at Dudley. His jaw was in a gawk mode. As was hers.

“You won,” he said quietly.

She nodded, then shook her head. This couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

She ran to the bathroom.

Malibu

Lane perched at the edge of the couch cushions as her agent droned on and on about negotiations for her dream part in her dream movie. She was only half listening. Her attention was on the television and on the Time Lottery ticket on the coffee table. The handsome emcee and that woman doctor-winner from last year walked toward the globe.

It was time for the drawing.

“They love you, Lane. They want you for this part and—”

“Sol? Can I put you on hold just a minute?”

“Hold? Well… I suppose.”

“Thanks.”
Click.
She didn’t feel
too
bad. Sol had put her on hold dozens of times. Besides, it would be for just a few seconds until the winners were announced. When her name wasn’t called, she’d get back on the line and he would never know that for this brief moment she had let herself contemplate being somewhere else, living some other life than the one she lived. She was glad she’d refused Brandy’s offer to watch it together. She needed to do this alone.

After picking three tickets, the doctor moved to the edge of the stage. Lane turned up the volume. “The first winner of the Time Lottery is… David Stancowsky, number 285937840.”

As the cameras panned the audience as it applauded, Lane found herself praying,
Please, please, please…

The woman continued, “The second winner of the Time Lottery is Vanessa Pruitt, number 583920589.”

Only one left. Lane almost shut the television off. The odds were astronomical before, but now, down to one person in the entire nation…

Then an odd thing happened. As the blond who was last year’s winner looked at the final ticket, she got the oddest look on her face, as if the name before her was familiar. Yet it was more than that. As a master of created emotions, Lane read hers. The confidence the woman had shown up until now was gone. She was confused. And even afraid. What would make her afraid? Whose name would cause such a reaction?

The emcee didn’t speak but obviously wanted to know what was wrong. The woman showed him the ticket. His expression mirrored hers.

You couldn’t write a more suspenseful movie scene if you tried.
Lane yelled at the TV. “Just read it!”

The man seemed to hear her because at that moment he told the doctor the same: “Read it.”

She cleared her throat. “The third and final winner of the Time Lottery is Lane Holloway, number 173092983.”

Lane gasped, put her hands to her chest, and was shocked to feel the pulse of her heart already pumping triple time. “Me? Me!” She jumped off the couch and did a victory dance, then realized she still had the phone in her hand.

“Sol!” She got him back on the line and vaguely heard him talking to someone else in the background. “Sol!”

“Whoa, Lane. Take it down a notch. I’m here.”

Lane watched as the TV showed pandemonium in the auditorium. Some people were standing, some cheering, and some looked appalled. She pitied the two people on stage who were unsuccessfully trying to calm the crowd. “Sorry, Sol, but I… I…”

Suddenly Lane realized that the chaos in the Time Lottery auditorium was not merely a celebration for the winners, but the public’s reaction to
her
name being called.

She let the network announcer’s voice interrupt her thoughts: “We can tell by the audience’s reaction that not everyone is pleased Lane Holloway’s name was called. Already I’m hearing rumblings: How can a woman who has the world in her hands win this chance? How can that be fair? We’ll put a call in to Ms. Holloway and get her reaction.”

Lane snapped to attention. How could they be so mean? “Sol? I’ll call you later.”

As soon as she hung up, the phone rang. She tossed it on the couch as if it were poison. The sounds from the television were an affront and she flipped it off, letting the remote keep the phone company.

She looked around her living room. The colors, the lights seemed more intense than before. Nothing seemed real. It was as if this moment were happening to someone else, as if she were acting in a movie and this was a set and the scene that had just played out was carefully staged.

She waited for the director to yell, “Cut!”

But the moment continued. And it scared her to death. She sank onto the couch and wrapped an afghan close.