Not This Time

Nina: August 20, 1986

     When the doors opened, Emma shifted around me and stepped out. Matt glanced at us and followed her. Dorothea, Jon, and I were frozen to the back wall. I was hesitant because I had no idea what memories were waiting out there to jump out at me and pull me under like they did the other night. I think Jon was just in shock.
     Dorothea stepped away from the wall and looked between the two of us. I kept my eyes on the room outside. I could remember a time when all I wanted to do was return to my apartment in the 80s, now I wasn't so sure. It had been a long time since I'd been home.
     Jon finally stepped out of the Triple T and looked around. I could see the wonder on his face as he recognized his surroundings. He dropped Dorothea's hand for a moment as he walked over to my bedroom window and peeked through the blinds. When he turned back to us, he was white as snow. He was staring at me.
     Dorothea looked back at me too. I hadn't moved from my place on the Triple T wall. Just the small amount of room I could see was drawing back memories of Jon and me that I was afraid to look at.
     "I'm just tired," I said, stepping out of my pants.
     "Liar," he scoffed, pushing off the door frame. I looked back up at him with a frown as I pulled up the gray cotton shorts I usually slept in. He stepped toward me, smiling a little as he stopped in front of me. "Look me in the eye and say that again."
     I closed the space between us and stared into those blue eyes of his defiantly. "I'm tired," I repeated, over pronouncing each syllable. Jon shook his head, but didn't say anything as I turned away, picked up my jeans, and tossed them into my hamper.
     Jon sighed and wrapped his arms around my middle. "It's just a game," he reminded me, kissing the side of my head affectionately before resting his own there. "We're not talking about getting married. We're not talking about kids or an apartment or how we're actually naming our dog Copper, not Tonto."
     It was almost like I could see us standing there, right there in front of my laundry hamper. I knew my eyes were wide and I was vaguely aware of the tear that slipped down my cheek.
     It's a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed Ford, slowin' down to take a look at me.
     "No, no, no, no," Jon's voice said, pulling me back. I blinked and he was right in front of me. His hands cradled my jaw and his eyes searched my face pleadingly. "You stay right here with me," he whispered, "You know how to do this time travel thing. I don't. I need you to stay here and help me make sense of this."
     I took a deep breath and nodded a little, keeping my eyes on his. His smile was uncertain, but he smiled all the same. He planted a quick kiss on my forehead and pulled me out of the Triple T by my hand. Dorothea was waiting for us at my bedroom door. Jon still had my hand, but he put his arm around her as we all made our way into the living room.
     "This is August 20, 1986," Matt explained as we stepped out. "You two are currently touring in Japan. Far, far away from here. So, we can talk."
     I wasn't listening to him. The apartment was exactly how I remembered it. The kitchen right across the room. The front door over to my right and the little windows to my left that faced out onto the street. So much had happened in that room. Jon was guiding me toward the couch, but I let go of his hand and took two big strides into the floorspace I'd kept clear for dancing. I could feel my heart beat a little faster with the memories that took place on the floor.
     Is that my coat?
     I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall between the windows, licking my lips. It was very warm suddenly. That night came back to me with a chill down my spine, echoing the words of Social Disease in my mind. I smiled a little at the memory.
     Jon smiled a little and wrapped his arms around my waist, under the coat. "How are you enjoying the X?" he asked. He leaned in close like he might kiss me, but then he never closed the space. I knew he was teasing me. And it was working like mad.
     "What are you doing?" Jon's voice asked. I opened my eyes in surprise. I'd forgotten for a minute that I wasn't alone. I turned and took a deep breath.
     "Remembering," I managed quietly. I leaned against the wall, facing them, and grinned just the tiniest bit. "Def Leppard."
     Jon looked confused for a moment. I just stared, waiting for him to make the connection. When he did, his eyes grew wide and he cleared his throat awkwardly. I started giggling as Jon took a quick glance at his wife. I had no idea what had come over me. I should have been sad that it was over, but all I could do was laugh.
     After a second or two, Jon mumbled to Dorothea, "Paper clip."
     Dorothea stifled a laugh and then started giggling as well. "Wow, this must be so awkward for you!" she laughed. Jon gaped at her and I laughed harder. He looked a little amused, like he couldn't believe we were laughing at him. Matt and Emma both looked so confused.
     "You're supposed to be keeping your heart rate down!" he scolded, pointing at me.
     I let my eyes fall toward my kitchen and another memory greeted me. "Oh!" I cried, pushing off the wall and darting over to the island in my kitchen. I could see it covered in cookies. Gingerbread, chocolate chip, peanut butter, sugar sprinkle, and lemondrop. I looked over at the telephone, hanging on the wall.
     Wah-wah-wah, wah-wah, wah-wah-wah-wah.
     I smiled as I watched him try not to look at me. There was a slight blush creeping across his face. It almost made me wonder what all that wah-wah-wah was about. He laughed at something his mom said, his smile lighting up his face.
     God I loved that smile. I was pretty sure I'd never get over it. There was still a faint smile on my face, but I could feel the tears coming. I really didn't want to cry. I just wanted to remember that day. That beautiful, wonderful, happy Christmas.
     Jon looked over at me with that smile and mouthed the word 'sorry.'
     I closed my eyes and a couple tears slipped down my face again. When I opened my eyes again, the alcove by the phone was empty and everyone was staring at me. I didn't look at them. With a sniff, I turned away and wiped my face. I looked over at my refrigerator, remembering all the times Jon had pushed things around in there, hunting for leftovers.
     "What is this?" Jon asked, pulling a small plastic food container out of the refrigerator.
     I looked over and set the vase on the counter. "Leftover macaroni and cheese," I snickered, taking a swig of my gin. Jon opened the container and peeked inside. He looked up at me with a smirk. I nodded before he could ask. "Yes, you may have it," I giggled.
     I smiled again and closed my eyes. Such a fun night, that Valentine's day. The very first Valentine's day that I hadn't spent alone. He'd brought me a rose. We'd had some wine and cheese. I snickered a little.
     "Wine goes with cheese."
     I snorted. "I don't think that's what they mean," I laughed as he poured the wine.
     And we danced. I looked back over at the empty space near my record player, where I'd been leaning against the wall laughing only a few moments ago. We danced and I was so worried about him getting the wrong idea while also, for some reason, hoping that he would. I hummed the chorus quietly to myself as I danced back into the clearing.
     We've got tonight.
     They were all still watching me. I didn't care. I smiled to myself, savoring the memory of that dance. It was so much fun. I remembered him holding me close and spinning me around. We were both so happy.
     Who needs tomorrow?
     I beamed at Jon. There was a hint of a smile on his face. I could tell he recognized what I was humming. No doubt, he knew what I was remembering. He just watched me as I spun around my living room.
     We've got tonight, babe!
     I stopped, mid-turn as I realized the next line. My anger began glowing hot once more when I looked back over at the group standing next to my couch. Dorothea looked confused. She had no idea what was going on. I looked back over at Matt and choked on the words as I weakly sang that last line aloud.
     "Why don't you stay?"
     Emma glared at Matt too. Jon's reminiscent look was gone when I looked back at him. He looked a little upset too. The expression was vaguely familiar from tour whenever I'd avoided talking about Matt's random visits. Dorothea looked around and set the book she'd brought with us down on the coffee table.
     "Seems like as good a time as any to get started," she announced, still looking between the four of us cautiously. She sat down on the couch and reached up to pull her husband down with her. She was right. We needed to get to the point.
     Slowly, without removing my glare from Matt, I joined them over on the couch. I sank onto the far end, next to Jon but as far from him as I could, and crossed my legs. Emma retrieved a couple stools from next to my kitchen island for Matt and herself and set them in front of the TV. They took their seats and we all just sat there for a moment, just staring at each other. The mood of the room had gotten very heavy all of a sudden.
     Matt shifted uncomfortably on his stool. "So, uh," Matt began hesitantly. He wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. "I'd just like to start off by saying I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made some of the decisions I did. I'm sorry you all got hurt. That was never my intention. Things got out of control and I got scared. It's not an excuse, but I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean for any of it to happen."
     "Then why did you come back?" I argued as calmly as possible. I hated that my voice cracked as I spoke. It was the pain of what I'd lost seeping through the anger. "You said you were going to leave us alone!"
     He hopped off his stool and pointed at me excitedly. "I was! I was, I was!" he repeated, "I promise I was going to leave you alone! Honestly, I was!" He put his hand on his head as he started pacing a little. "I got home and I was rereading the history and stuff to see if anything changed," he continued, turning back to me, "and that's when I realized what a colossal, terrifying, disastrously paradoxical mistake I'd made!"
     "What, by letting me stay?"
     "Yes!"
     "How?" I spat.
     Matt covered his face with his hands and let out a groan. "Because I know your future, Nina!" he told me, "I have record of it. There are things you're going to do in the next few years that are important and necessary! If you were in the 80s with him," —He motioned to Jon, his eyes still on me.— "You wouldn't be in your time to do those important, necessary things that absolutely must be done!"
     I scoffed, "Oh, what, so you just used a Forget Strip on me?" I had meant it as a joke, but Matt dropped his gaze and picked at his fingernails nervously. The longer he took to answer me, the more the horror crept across my face. He didn't look up at me for a good minute.
     "I'm sorry," he mumbled weakly, looking up at me for just a second before looking away again.
     "Oh my God, you did?" I shouted in disbelief, jumping up from my seat. I didn't want to be anywhere near him. "Is that what that was?! What the fuck, Matt?! That's horrible! How could you?!" I walked around my couch, still trying to get a grasp on what I'd just learned.
     "It's not like I wanted to!" Matt defended as I walked away from him.
     "Hold on, what?" Dorothea chimed in, "I'm lost."
     Matt sighed and turned to her and Jon. "Did you read the book?" he asked her.
     "Like, twenty years ago."
     "Okay, so Emma and I are from 3562. We came back to 2003 and met Nina shortly after she had run away from home. She seemed like she could use some cheering up, so I took her around to a couple fun things she wanted to see throughout time," he explained. "She loved the 80s so much and she was so bored with her life. She wanted to live here and—"
     "No, no, no. I get that," Dorothea interrupted, "What's a Forget Strip?"
     Matt glanced nervously in my direction. "It, uh," he stammered, "it...basically, uh blocks..um...." He paused again. Even from where I stood across the room, his hesitation was almost tangible. "...blocks memories."
     Dorothea's mouth fell open a little and she looked over at me for a second. "You did that?" she gasped, looking back at Matt, "That's why she didn't remember?" Matt just nodded, ashamed. Dorothea brought a hand up to cover her mouth in shock.
     I turned away from everyone for a moment, trying desperately to collect myself. It took every fiber of my being not to break down right there. I was livid. I'd never been more angry in my life. Not even when Jon had kissed me at that New Year's party. This was worse than that. I had never been more hurt.
     "Hey, you okay?" Jon's voice asked gently.
     "No I'm not fucking okay!" I snapped. I turned back to them and glared daggers at Matt. I couldn't believe him. "My memories were stolen from me and, worse, by someone I thought was my friend!" I ranted, shaking my head. My gaze fell on Emma, perched on her stool next to Matt's empty one. "Did you know?" The guilt shone bright in her eyes. "You knew, didn't you?" I accused, "When we came back from 2007, you knew! Why didn't you tell me!?"
     Matt began to answer. "She—"
     "Ah-ah! Shut up! I'm not talking to you! I'm talking to Emma!"
     Her voice was shaky when she answered. She might have been scared of me, and rightfully so. I could have killed them after learning that. "I didn't know what would happen if I told you. Matt seemed to think it would be really bad and, considering you just came from the hospital, it sounds like it was."
     "How could you two do this to me?" I cried, betrayed. Emma and I had been best friends! She had always been on my side! How could she have gone along with this? Jon stood up and turned to me. He looked like he was getting tired with all the yelling, but also like he didn't know where to start.
     "No no! I had no part in this! I didn't know until Nashville!" Emma protested, shaking her finger at me. She pointed to Matt. "He lied to me! He told me that you'd told Jon the truth and he'd left you! I helped him clear out your apartment of all your Bon Jovi stuff because he told me you were so devastated that you didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to hear his voice or his name, didn't want to see any little thing that would remind you of him!"
     "You did what?" I snarled, glaring at Matt once again, "So you stole my memories and my property? You're on a fucking roll!"
     Emma's voice started to crack as she continued explaining herself, seemingly unaware that I'd even spoken. "You were so happy the last time I'd spoken to you! You seemed so sure that he was your happily ever after! It made sense that you would be so upset!" I could hear the bitterness creep into her voice when she said, "I didn't think I had any reason to question him."
     "Nina, your heart!" Jon tried to remind me, but I ignored him. I'd taken the medicine, there was nothing I could do to avoid the anger that was being stoked by all this information.
     "I thought I knew you!" I shouted, still fighting tears, "I thought I could trust you!"
     "Yes I know! It's my fault!" Matt yelled over all of us.
     Nobody spoke for a minute. Dorothea was holding onto Jon's hand, but I couldn't see her face. I couldn't tell if she was overwhelmed or if she was reassuring him. Jon was watching me with what looked like frustrated concern. Matt had his hands in the air as if holding them like that would stop all other words.
     After a minute, he spoke again, this time in a broken voice. "It's all my fault! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I would give anything to undo it, but I can't!"
      Dropping his wife's hand, Jon turned and crossed his arms. "You have a time machine."
      "It's not that simple," Matt sighed. "If I were to go back and stop myself from doing something, it would create a paradox. If I succeeded in stopping myself, then the event that I went back to stop wouldn't have happened, therefore erasing my reason for going back to stop it, yeah?" His voice had grown increasingly more desperate as he explained. "I cannot go back and fix things! I'm sorry! I made some mistakes and hurt everybody! I tried to make things better and I couldn't!"
     He sat himself back down on his stool, dropped his head into his hands, and cried. I couldn't help feeling that he actually meant that one. I looked around to see how other people were accepting his demonstration. Dorothea looked a little lost, but she seemed to be keeping it together pretty well for someone who'd been dragged into this. Jon looked just as conflicted as I did, and Emma looked like she didn't know whether to hit Matt or hug him.
     Matt didn't move his hands away from his face. He just wept into his hands, "Sometimes the way things work out isn't how you intend them to at all. All the things you wanted to happen, didn't, and all the things you hoped wouldn't, did." He sniffled a little, finally dropping his hands, but not still not looking at anyone. "Sometimes all the things you hope you're changing are actually just the way things are and there's nothing you can do about it. There's nothing anyone can do about it." He looked up at me. I could see the remorse in his eyes. "That's what I've learned. I'm so sorry."
     For another second more, everyone remained quiet. Something he said really sat wrong with me. It didn't make sense to me. It worried me. It worried me because I didn't know what he meant by that. I tilted my head a little.
     "What do you mean 'all the things you hope you're changing'?" I asked warily. Matt blinked at me. It almost looked like he was kicking himself for having said that. I stepped forward slowly and leaned on the back of the couch. "Matt? What does that mean?"
     Matt looked over at Emma. She gave him a side glance and raised an eyebrow expectantly, but didn't say anything. They were having a mental conversation. I'd done that a couple times with Jon, enough to recognize it. Jon had been married long enough to recognize it too. He scoffed impatiently and got up from his spot on the couch. Matt scrambled off his stool as Jon started toward him and backed away, all the way up against the wall.
     "Look here," Jon grumbled, crossing his arms. He was talking quietly, but we could still hear him as he scolded Matt. "I don't like you. I've never liked you. Not once. I know my opinion doesn't really matter to you, but look at Nina." Matt glanced for a second, but Jon wasn't having it. "Look at her!" he snapped, louder.
     Matt almost looked a little frightened. He blinked at Jon and then looked past him, at me.
     "From what I can tell, you're walking on very thin ice with her and the thaw is coming," Jon warned in a low voice, "If you can save yourself, I'm pretty sure the only way to do that is to tell her the truth right now. Even if it doesn't help you, I think you owe her that, at least, after what you did."
     Matt looked back at Jon and nodded a little, looking down at his feet. "Okay," he whispered.
     I shifted on my feet hopefully. He was actually going to tell me the truth about something? The devil must have been forced to buy a winter coat because Hell had finally frozen over! Jon gave me an unamused smirk as he returned to his seat. As he sat down, he took his wife's hand and leaned over to give her a kiss, and then he looked over his shoulder at me and held out his other hand for me to take. I stared at it for a moment and then, with a deep breath, took his hand. Matt sat back down on his stool and Emma scooted closer to lean on his shoulder. She wasn't crying anymore, but it sort of looked like she might burst into tears at any moment. Matt swallowed hard and looked up at the three of us.
     "I never told you, Nina, why I built my Triple T," he said directly. "It was always for you. Starting when I was six, I worked for ten years by myself and then another six with Emma to build the time machine. Then we worked another two years to make it a teleporter too," he explained, "The whole time, the plan was always to come back in time and make you smile, make you happy, make your life a little brighter."
     "Why would my life need to be brighter?" I asked slowly, skeptically.
     There was that hesitation again. Matt pursed his lips and swallowed once more before going on. "In 3544," he said, "I was in third grade and my teacher assigned us a research project. She had everybody pull a decade out of a hat and we would research someone who had lived during that decade. Boys had to pick a girl to research and girls had to pick a boy. I pulled the 2010s out of the hat."
     "And you picked Nina?" Jon scoffed.
     Matt nodded. "I researched her life," he recounted, looking back over at me, "I read about Maribelle. I must admit I underestimated the severity of that relationship until we went there in 2009." If I hadn't known better, I'd have said his tone almost sounded amused.
     I rolled my eyes at that memory. He just hadn't listened to me when I'd told him it was a bad idea.
     "I read about very sad things that I thought maybe wouldn't happen if I could help," Matt sighed, "Things like losing the love of your life and falling into depression....suffering a heart condition at a young age."
     I yanked my hand out of Jon's and ran them through my hair in exasperation. More? More information that he knew and didn't tell me? More information that could have saved me so much heartache that he just kept to himself? How? How could there be more?
     "You knew this would happen?" I scoffed in disbelief, turning away in aggravation.
     "I didn't know those things were my fault! I was trying to stop them!" Matt protested, "I didn't know I had caused them! I'm sorry!"
     I was still just hung up on all the things that had been kept from me. Matt made my secret keeping with Jon look like child's play. I clasped my hands over the back of my head. "This day just keeps getting better!" I laughed. It wasn't funny, I was just so exasperated.
     "I'm sorry, Nina! By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late, you were already in your relationship with him." Matt told me, probably hoping I'd understand his predicament. "I thought maybe I could still change some of the other things, but they just kept happening and nothing I was doing was helping!"
     I didn't even know how to respond to him. From where he was sitting, Jon turned and held his hand out to me again, but I ignored him. I didn't want to bother with consolation when I was so upset.
     "Wait," came Dorothea's voice. I turned to look at her. In fact, everyone stopped to look at her. "Out of the billions of people alive on this planet in 2010, you just happened to pick this one woman?" Jon straightened a little, looking at his wife with a slightly amused expression. I hadn't thought of that either. We both looked over at Matt and Emma.
     "I had a smaller pool to pick from," Matt mumbled.
     Jon nodded to him. "What do you mean?"
     "He means the gene pool," Emma clarified for her boyfriend, "It was a genealogy project."
     Again, nobody spoke. For me it was shock. I was still processing what that meant. Genealogy. The study of genetics, right? Wait. Genetics, like family?
     "We're related?!" I scoffed again.
      Matt closed his eyes and nodded. "You're my great grandmother fifty-one generations gone," he said quietly. I gaped at him. It was all I could do. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Was I supposed to be angry that he'd lied to me, or was I supposed to be excited to meet one of my descendants?
     "Well," Jon snickered, shaking his head, "Didn't see that one coming."
     Matt looked back up at me sympathetically. "Don't you see, though, why I couldn't let you stay in the 80s?" he insisted. I closed my mouth and frowned, but he went on. "If you weren't in your time to meet the man you later marry and have kids with, I would cease to exist. And then who would build the time machine that took you back to the 80s? Again, paradox."
     I hated that what he said made sense. I didn't completely understand paradoxes, but they made more sense to me than displacement. I just wished I had known this back then. I still didn't understand why he had pulled me out when he did, though.
     "But why couldn't going back have waited until the end of tour?" I argued.
     "What?"
     "I was going to tell Jon everything at the end of tour!" I recalled. I put a hand on Jon's shoulder and leaned forward a little to look at him when he looked up. "Be honest," I asked him, "would twenty-six year old you have believed me if I told you I was a time traveler from the future?"
     Jon looked kind of amused, but he shook his head. "Probably not, no."
     "Would we have broken up?"
     He looked forward, ahead of him, instead of at me for a moment. He was thinking. I glanced up at Matt for only a second or two while we waited. Dorothea watched her husband expectantly as well. I couldn't tell if she was waiting to hear his answer in relation to her or in relation to the situation at hand. Either way, she waited with the rest of us.
     "I don't know. Maybe. I honestly have no idea," Jon replied finally, shrugging a little as he looked up at me. "I was so in love with you, I might have ignored it....or it might have been the last straw. I really have no way to know."
     "Would you have thought I was crazy?" I asked.
     "Maybe a little," he responded, again, maybe a little amused.
     I nodded, tapped his shoulder, and straightened again. "Then we would have broken up," I sighed, "If not right then, eventually, but we would have." I looked back at Matt and raised an eyebrow. "Why couldn't it have waited until then?" I asked again, "And don't you dare say displacement!"
     Dorothea whispered to Jon, "Displacement?"
     "I'll explain later," Jon whispered back.
     "Because I couldn't risk it!" Matt declared. He motioned to Jon and Dotty sitting close together on the couch. "I needed them to be together too! They're my great grandparents fifty-two generations gone. They had to be together, too, or I would still cease to exist."
     Dorothea started laughing at the same time that Jon let out a single, loud, derisive laugh. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" he cried, getting up once more, "Are you serious?"
     "You've got to be making this up!" Dorothea agreed, still giggling. Matt looked a little insulted. I smirked a little because I knew that he was completely serious.
     "Does this look like a time for me to be joking?" Matt demanded, indignant, "When Nina told me she was touring with you, I knew the name Bon Jovi sounded familiar, but I had to go back and look it up to find out why!"
     Jon rolled his eyes and shook his head, bringing his hands up to run through his hair. "What the fuck?" he mumbled to himself, still laughing a little, though nervously now. Dorothea got up and joined him over by my windows. I didn't listen to what she was mumbling to him, when she hugged him, but it seemed to calm him a little and he hugged her back.
     I blinked and let my gaze fall to the carpet. Matt had just tossed the whole thing in the wash with a single red sock. He'd dug himself a perfectly round hole that went almost all the way to Hell. Somehow he'd managed to climb out of it before he got there. He should have never come back in time to meet me. He really should have left me alone. I might have been better off if he had. But since he had, for the sake of self-preservation, he had no choice but to fix it. I couldn't say I wasn't still mad at him for it, but I could kind of see where he was coming from.
     "This is all your fault," I muttered, looking up at Matt again. "You really did just make a fucking mess of everything, didn't you?"
     At this point, all the tears were gone. Matt had resigned to the truth: he'd fucked up. "Yeah," he agreed with a sigh, "I'm sorry. I really am. I'm honestly starting to regret ever building that stupid machine." He looked over at Emma, who smiled sadly in response. He pressed his lips into a thin line and returned his attention to me. "I'm pretty sure I know the answer, but can you ever forgive me?"
     I could feel the annoyance creeping my face. I didn't fight it, but it mellowed out all on its own. "Maybe," I grumbled, "At some point. Until then, I hate you."
     There was a flash of a smile on Matt's face as he nodded. "Understandable." Jon and Dorothea strolled back over to the couch arm in arm. God only knew what they'd been talking about over by the window, but Jon seemed much more relaxed. Matt looked over at them and got up from his stool. "You guys want to go back now?"
     "Please!" Dorothea answered urgently.
     "Yeah, let's get out of here," I agreed as Dorothea picked up the book from the coffee table. She stared at the book for a moment, which, for some reason, reminded me of something I wanted to bring back with me from this apartment. "I just want to get..." I began, letting the thought trail off as I rushed over to my record player and started sifting through my records. I smiled when I found the little white slipcovers. I pulled out the '45 on which Jon and I had recorded Never Say Goodbye as a duet and the Runaway single he'd had pressed for me. No way I was leaving without those. I held them up and announced triumphantly, "these!"
     Jon smiled at the memory, but said nothing, only hugged his wife tighter. She was still staring at the book in her hands with a confused expression. I pointed at Matt and Emma as I made my way back into my bedroom.
     "You owe me a new collection!" I told them.
     Matt's little smile actually sort of stuck this time. "I still have the old one," he chuckled, "you can have it all back."
     "Wait!" Dorothea exclaimed, looking up at Matt and Emma as we all looked over at her, "How did Jon get this book?"
     Matt shrugged. "I presume I take it back to him once Nina's written it."
     "That means I have to write it, don't I?" I complained.
     Jon smiled at me as he and Dorothea walked forward. She let go of him and kept going, heading for the Triple T. "It'll be okay," he snickered, throwing his arm around me instead, "I'll help you remember." I smiled up at him and he gave me that beautiful grin once again. "Come on," he said, "Let's go home."