Nick scowled and helped the pretty woman into Izzie’s library. Once she saw Nick leading the crying woman inside, Izzie dropped her new cup of coffee and rushed over. “Nick, what is this?”

  “Kate pepper sprayed her,” Nick chastised. He was trying to throw mental daggers into Izzie’s mind, but she was oblivious as she took the woman into her arms and led her to the kitchen.

  Kate rushed into the library, and she hissed, “We have to go now, Nick! It’s almost eight-thirty. I have to be back by nine.”

  “And leave that woman here without an apology for pepper spraying her? You need to at least apologize.”

  Kate crossed her arms. “Fine. A quick I’m-sorry and then we bolt. Got it?”

  “Didn’t the king teach you manners, princess?”

  Kate punched his arm with all the force she had in her noodle arms, and he quickly retorted, “Ow!”

  “Stop with the comments about my family. Got it? I don’t like to talk about them.”

  “Gosh, Stoner,” he laughed, realizing his new nickname for her. “Get it? Stoner.”

  She rolled her eyes as she waited for Izzie and the woman to come back into the tiny alcove that Izzie referred to as her lobby. The fireplace released some warm embers which warmed her, but once she saw the scone that gleamed like heaven by Izzie’s cup of coffee, the woman pounced on her.

  “You!” she squealed. “You sprayed me with pepper spray!”

  Nick’s eyes overfilled with puppy love as he saw the woman in the light. She was gorgeous, a knock-out, and he was convinced she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his short life. Even if she was in Kate’s face, she was a beauty, and his tongue lolled out of his head like a dumb puppy.

  “Excuse me, but don’t scare me in dark places,” Kate fired back. “I’m a seventeen-year-old girl who still sleeps with her blanket, and I get scared, and I know you haven’t thought of a way to say hi, Cindy Crawford.”

  The woman’s jaw dropped. “Want to go at it, kid?”

  “Sure, old woman,” Kate smirked. “At least I don’t need botox.”

  “Oh, you!” The woman lunged at Kate’s throat, but Izzie jumped in at the right time.

  “All right, girls, let’s settle this someplace else. Kate, go back to the kitchen for me. Now, Julia, let’s get you warm by the fireplace for a minute…”

  “I’m gonna get you someday, kid! That’s a promise!” The woman named Julia shouted as Kate stuck her tongue out.

  Nick stood in the same place, rooted by feisty Julia. “I’m sorry about Kate. She’s…”

  “Your girlfriend?” Julia asked, patting her eyes with a towel Izzie had handed her. “God, you’re just like all the others.”

  “Oh, no, we’re not dating.” Nick raised his hands in defense. “She’s my friend, but that’s it. And what did you mean by…”

  “Izzie?” Julia asked, ignoring Nick now.

  “Yup?”

  “Can I crash here for the night? I’m not in the mood to walk all the way back to my new apartment,” she said as she snuggled against Izzie’s favorite loveseat.

  “That’s fine. I’ll call my husband and tell him I’ll stay with you.”

  “Thanks, Iz. You’re…” The woman had fallen asleep. Nick was enchanted. And Kate was fuming. Ah, the plot thickens.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THAT SAME NIGHT, as he worked on the final arrangements of his move to Atlantic City, Christoph Leiden lit a woodsy candle and breathed its scent. Usually, when Delilah was home, she would light the apartment with vanilla-scented candles, which Christoph hated. Today was his lucky night, and he could finally sniff his favorite type of candle without Delilah’s rude pestering.

  Tonight seemed different, though. The bay windows were open so he could see out onto Juniper, and farther away, the clear stars in the sky. It was a clear, beautiful night, and he could make out a few constellations. When he was a kid, he liked to spot stars with his dad back in his native Germany. It was how he spent his summer nights as a teenager, too. He would read a good book under the stars, or serenade a girl with words he had memorized from Shakespeare.

  Christoph chuckled at the memory of his womanizing past and tapped his pen against the pad of paper before him. He had a lot to do before the move, but he didn’t want to do any of it. If he was honest with himself, the only person he could picture in his mind was Izzie. The candle reminded him of her somehow, and he couldn’t pinpoint why. He wanted to be with her desperately, and that was exactly why he had to leave. He could never jeopardize his morals by being alone with her again, or it would risk permanent danger to his already lackluster relationship with Delilah.

  He had met Delilah on a dull afternoon in a coffee shop in Boston, Massachusetts. Before meeting her, he studied English at Brown in Providence, was an assistant to Professor Jax Albrecht, another wise German immigrant, and moved to Boston shortly after grad school. He met Delilah when he was thirty, married her in a Catholic ceremony (though he was Protestant and never converted) when he was thirty-three and moved to Maine the next year when he was offered a job at Wistilla’s only school.

  The reason he took the job was because he was tired of Boston. He was tired of Delilah’s incessant blabbering about how harsh the city life was, and before he knew it, they were whisked away to the coastal, quaint town of Wistilla, Maine. The job paid well, Delilah was impressed by the magnificent coves lining the Atlantic, and they both enjoyed the gloomy weather. It seemed like the perfect fit, until he happily walked to school on his first day and caught a clumsy woman named Isobel Hampton from falling into the street.

  For the twentieth time today, he wondered why she thought that scar was from an appendectomy. Had she lied? Or was he wrong? Or…

  He fell to the ground sharply, the chair buckling underneath him. His head landed with a crunch against the wood floor, and his lungs grasped for air, though there didn’t seem to be any. His mind flashed with understanding. He knew he the wind had been knocked out of him, but abruptly, he was transported into another element.

  His eyes reopened, and he was lying in a field of sunflowers. He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the bright sunshine – real summer light not possible for Wistilla. He must be dreaming, he decided. He stood to his full height, feeling a rush of energy. He looked around the giant sunflowers, their beautiful stems strong and sturdy. The sun was shining brightly, and it must have been midday. He shielded the sunrays from his eyes and looked down at his clothing. He was wearing the same ratty sweatshirt from when he was planning the move to New Jersey, and he could faintly smell the same candle.

  But as his eyes adjusted, he looked out into the field to see a tall, strong man shielding his own eyes from the light. Christoph moved closer to the man, wanting to ask him where he was, what time it was, and how he could get back to Maine, but something confused him. As he walked closer, trying not to squash the natural sunflowers with his shoes, his blue eyes focused on the tall man.

  The man looked over in his direction, though it was evident he didn’t notice Christoph. He had golden hair, piercing blue eyes, broad shoulders, and was wearing a classy shirt and pressed pants. His eyes strained under the sun, and Christoph’s heart fell into his stomach as he realized who this alternative man was.

  He witnessed a pair of lanky arms wrap around the other man’s waist. Christoph breathed in a full supply of air as his heart raced. He watched as his alter-ego, this other Christoph, laughed and turned his back to a beautiful woman. As Christoph realized who she was, he fell to his knees, tears pouring out of his eyes. He watched as the other Christoph bent down on one knee himself, and the other Izzie covered her pretty mouth in expectation.

  Izzie looked beautiful in the golden sunshine, her hair down and cascading down her back in waves. Her navy eyes sparkled, and she looked young. She was wearing a skirt and a short-sleeved shirt, and this Christoph, the one who was having a mini-heart attack, suspected their clothing was from the mid-1990s. They looked very young, too, almost teenagers it seemed.

  Christoph watched as his alter-ego professed his love, and Izzie jubilantly screamed, “Yes!” as she twirled around in a giant circle in the middle of the sunflowers. Beside her, the other Christoph rushed to her and kissed her passionately as he picked her up into his strong arms. As they laughed and giggled like young twenty-somethings do, the other Christoph teetered over and they fell into a heap in the middle of the field of sunflowers.

  The normal Christoph wept because he couldn’t see them anymore, and he understood what this was, what this meant. It wasn’t a dream. It was something more startling. A memory.

  HE WOKE UP a few moments later as he regained the ability to breathe. He stretched against the wood floor of his Maine apartment for who knows long, his eyes clouded, staring at the ceiling as he remembered. He must be crazy, he decided. There was no way that it could have been a memory. He and Izzie had just met, and there had been no connection between them before this. He had been hallucinating, he believed, though he wished it was true. A mind plays with itself after it crashes against a hard floor. He had to convince himself of something.

  “JULIA,” WHISPERED IZZIE as she tended the fire. “Julia, wake up.”

  It was the next morning, and the first rays of sunlight were shining into the small library. It was surprising the sun was finally out for once, and Izzie decided to help Julia Carter back to her apartment. Paul had called earlier that morning, and demanded Izzie come home before noon.

  Julia’s eyes fluttered open and she bolted up. “Oh my…where am I?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  Julia anxiously tugged on her shirt and threw a hand through her curly hair. “Oh my, oh my. What time is it?”

  “Almost nine o’clock. What’s up, Julia?”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “You seriously don’t know?”

  Julia closed her eyes and panted. “I got drunk. That’s all I remember. Oh, and I think I stumbled out onto the boulevard, but some girl pepper sprayed me?”

  “Very accurate,” Izzie laughed.

  “And you kept me housed for good luck?”

  “Correct. See, you don’t need a memory if you can deduce the facts like that.”

  “Very funny,” Julia pessimistically fired back as she lurched out of the lobby. “Look, whatever your name is, thanks for whatever you did for me. See you later.”

  Izzie waved goodbye as she watched Julia sashay out of the library like nothing had happened. She blew out a candle and grabbed her coat, tying it around her waist. She flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED and skipped out of the library, feeling the Atlantic Ocean breezes’ fingers lift her up into the wind. Izzie found her happiness in the simplicity of things, and though she would have to return home, she would find a way to keep her spirits up.

  As she bustled down the streets, someone ran into her. She turned to see Olivia giggling. “Izzie! Why is it whenever we see each other, someone’s fallin’ over?”

  Izzie turned around to see the plump lady. “Oh, hi.”

  “So, I was just heading over to the library, actually. Can you believe that timing? Once in a lifetime if I must say so myself, Iz,” Olivia chuckled, pulling on her cashmere, tacky purse. She leafed through her belongings and found a flier that she threw at the other woman.

  Luckily, our clumsy Isobel caught the flier and as her teeth chattered from the wind, she read it. “Town-wide Bash This Sunday Night.” Izzie handed the flier back. “That should be fun.”

  “Well, you are coming, aren’t you? The first town fiesta, and you pretend you aren’t coming? Of course you are coming, Izzie Hampton!”

  “I…I can’t,” she apologized. “I…”

  “You have no excuse, Izzie. No excuse whatsoever. You’re coming.”

  THAT SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Kate dug through her favorite college sweatshirts, finally picking the U OF MICHIGAN shirt she refused to wear. Now, though, after her embarrassing attack on Julia Carter, she had hidden herself in her bedroom, inhaling candles and feeling sorry for herself. She had spent the weekend reading Poe, not doing any of her AP classwork, and pretending that Nick was climbing up the ivy balcony to say hi. He never came.

  As Kate heard the ruckus outside her extravagant bedroom, her ears perked up. She could hear her younger brother, Matt, screaming at their sister, Piper. “Piper, come back!”

  After pulling the sweatshirt over her unwashed hair, Kate pushed her headphones deeper into her ear canals as she reopened the huge Poe book she had received a few Christmases ago. She couldn’t concentrate and eventually fell asleep again.

  She was awoken by a knock on the door, and her mother, Lindsay Stone, tapped her. Kate flashed awake, her head clashing against a nearby chair, as she had fallen asleep on the floor. “Ouch!” Kate screamed as she aided her throbbing head.

  Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Why are you still sleeping, Katherine? We have a party to attend.”

  “What do you mean? I haven’t seen any of you people since I began this life of isolation 39 hours ago.”

  Lindsay crossed her arms. “Katherine, get dressed. We told you that the town Bash is being held at the Banner. Now, hurry and wear that beautiful gold dress we bought you in Portland. At least that gold dress can help accentuate…well, you, dear.” Lindsay turned on her heel, leaving Kate to glare at her mom once more.

  Kate wasn’t a fashionista, but Lindsay was. Yes, Kate wore lots of makeup at times and dressed up at school, but she didn’t have the curvy figure Lindsay wanted her to have. Piper, though she was only twelve, had an hourglass body type like Lindsay thought was appropriate, while Kate was tall and lanky.

  “What party does she expect me to go to? I’d rather stay here and throw my own party on Poe or something.”

  Kate considered staying home and locking her doors, since she could see a storm brewing from her balcony window. She could faintly see the Cove, and the Atlantic extending beyond that, as the clouds turned darker than usual. So, deciding she couldn’t possibly stay at home alone, Kate hurriedly showered and blow-dried her hair in record time. She dabbed her eyes with light mascara and a gold, shimmery shadow and threw her sweatshirt on her bed. Quickly, she zipped her gold dress to her body, and examined her figure in the mirror.

  She had super long legs, and her hair fanned down her back. Her eyes seemed brighter than usual, even though she had locked herself up in her room like Rapunzel. The gold dress was sparkling, but no matter what her mother said, Kate knew she looked presentable. Maybe better than presentable, but to put a twist on her look, Kate slipped on flats. She hated heels, anyway.

  IZZIE FINISHED DRESSING up in record time. She was wearing an old red dress that still fit like a glove though it was at least five-years-old, and her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun. She had donned some makeup today, and her cheekbones looked very prominent in the light of the apartment. She pulled her coat closer to her body as she examined the clouds coming in the distance.

  As her husband, Paul, hurried out of their bedroom yanking on his tie, Izzie stood on her tiptoes. She refused to wear heels, because she preferred her pretty ballet shoes, and if she had worn heels, she would stand a good two inches taller than Paul.

  “Why are we going to this again, Iz?” Paul shouted as he grabbed an apple and hurried to his wife. “Will you fix my tie?”

  “Of course, Paul,” she doted, pulling on his tie. She looked up into his pretty brown eyes and smiled. He wasn’t a bad husband, and he provided for her. He was handsome, too, and he knew how to keep the boring life of Wistilla interesting.

  “I’m doing this for you, baby,” he whispered in her ear, drawing her close. “What are you going to do for me?”

  “C’mon, Paul,” she said, immediately erasing her previous thoughts. She hurried out of the door, with him on her heels, standing close to her. “You know, Izzie, you look good in that dress. Is it new?”

  Izzie hurried down the steps of their apartment building into the lobby. “No, honey. It’s old.”

  “Just like you,” snipped a female voice. But just as quickly, she licked her lips and added, “Hey, Isobel Hampton.”

  Izzie turned her back to see Julia Carter wickedly gleaming at her. “Julia!” Izzie screamed, running to her. The two hugged, and Izzie was happy for this distraction from her husband. “Are you coming to the town Bash?”

  Something flashed across Julia’s eyes. Maybe it was recognition, or maybe something else, but she shook her head quickly. “No. No,” she repeated. “Have fun, though.”

  “Okay. We’re late, but I’ll see you later, okay, Carter?”

  Julia gulped nervously. “O-okay.”

  Izzie’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked back to Paul, who scowled at the woman. Izzie quickly grabbed his elbow and led him out of the lobby, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something just wasn’t right.

  “WE HAVE TO go, Nick,” complained Carey Stewart, whose dress was so short Nick wanted to personally buy her another one.

  “Carey, wear something else. I’m not taking a prostitute to the Bash,” he angrily seethed as he pulled on his own tie. He gripped the handmade shake Carey had brought him, and he gulped it in one sip. It was refreshing against his throat and roaring mind.

  Tonight, he looked extremely handsome. His bright blue eyes popped out against his clean white shirt and dark coat. His dark hair was slicked back, and he looked classy. Any girl in their rightful man would swoon for Nick Loring, but since his girlfriend was dressed like a stripper, he wouldn’t leave the house.

  “I’m going to the Bash where my grandparents are, where my teachers are, and all of my friends are. I’m not taking you out there dressed like that, Carey.”

  Carey’s dress exposed her big, bouncy cleavage, and her stumpy legs. Nick had even seen her bum pop out as she adjusted the dress. He knew it was inappropriate for the Bash where Mayor Kelly was speaking, and…

 

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