The Time Traveler's Wife

Ye Olde Selfie

February 1998

Carmilla smiles when she realizes she's traveled back to Laura's childhood home. It'd be almost a year and a half since she'd traveled and longer since she'd traveled to see Laura. During that time, she'd memorized all the dates she'd traveled back to see Laura. There were almost a dozen of them, but since she'd already done a few, the dates were easy to memorize.

Laura insisted that these were spoilers for her, but Carmilla pointed out that there was no other way Carmilla could know when to tell Past Laura that she'd visit again.

She didn't want Laura to spend her whole life waiting on Carmilla-- in the past, present, or future.

Mattie marveled pretty often that, instead of traveling every few weeks or even more frequently like usual, Carmilla hadn't traveled for well over a year.

One night, while polishing off a bottle of wine, Mattie commented that Laura keeping Carmilla grounded was something she was envious of, but so happy that Carmilla has.

The next morning, Mattie declared she'd never said such a thing.

But now here she was. She just had to find out when she was.

At least there was a pile of clothes sitting there. The same pile of clothes from the park.

Carmilla quickly gets dressed and quietly heads to the hallway. It's night time, but she doesn't hear anyone home.

Before she can determine her next move, the house phone rings. A small voice answers it below.

"Hello? ... Oh. Yeah, I'll be fine alone. Tell mommy I love her."

So clear this was before the end of 1998, Carmilla notes. But after May 1997... She hears the phone hang up and carefully heads down the stairs.

Soft footsteps head towards her, clearly going for the living room couch. Just as Carmilla starts to call out to her to warn her, Laura happens to peek up. She yelps and grabs her chest.

"Holy poop!" she exclaims.

"Sorry, sorry," Carmilla apologizes profusely. "I didn't mean to scare you." She looks around. "You're home alone?"

Laura nods, eyeing Carmilla warily. "It's been so long, I wasn't sure I really met you." She crosses her arms. "Plus, that man my mommy and daddy had me talk to told me you were an imaginary friend."

Carmilla frowns. "I told you not to tell anyone about me, you stubborn creampuff."

Laura sticks her tongue out and plopping down on the couch, glancing at the spot next to her.

"So how long are you here for?" Laura asks curiously.

"Not sure. Can't control it, remember?" Carmilla replies, taking a seat beside her. "When am I?"

Laura gives her a perplexed look. Clearly she wasn't used to these kinds of questions. Yet. "February 1998."

Carmilla hums. No wonder she was so jittery. Laura had only met her once so far. And, according to Laura's video diaries and photo albums, the next time Laura would see her would be a year from now. After her mom passed away.

"Hello? Laura to Carmilla," a voice says to her urgently. "Are you even listening to me?"

Carmilla blinks. "Huh? Sorry, no."

"I was asking if you're hungry and want dinner," Laura huffs. "My parents won't be home tonight and I haven't eaten, yet. We've got dinner and cupcakes for dessert."