“Who?”
Gretchen gestured to the grave. “Her. The woman who dedicated so much of her life to trying to figure out what happened to you.”
“I feel so terribly about it. Neither she nor Bill got any closure. My children can have closure, but not them.”
“I’m sorry, I still can’t get over you beingRobert’s mother.That man has been a canker sore on my life since I was a kid. Even tried to stiff me on babysitting money way back when.”
“We look very silly, I know, but that’s how it is.”
Gretchen stared at her for a while, Thelma trying not to let it get to her, while Miriam undoubtedly continued to watch them from the parking lot.Becky and Emma don’t have to be tailed by the FBI.Probably because the authorities didn’t know thattheyknew.
“I’ve never met a woman like you before,” Gretchen said, her voice nearly lost to the cold air. “I don’t just mean a time traveler. I mean someone who makes me feel the way you do.”
The sudden heat on Thelma’s face tuned her into her blushing. “Not everyone gets to kiss a time traveler, true.”
“The whole reason for your old-fashioned style, your faith, and your hopes and dreams is because you were born in 1930.” Gretchen clicked her tongue into a thoughtfultsk.“Crazy. But when I finally force myself to accept it, that shit like this justhappensto some people, it makes a lot of sense. I totally would end up with someone from the Silent Generation.”
Thelma didn’t let herself get too excited when she heard words like“I would end up with someone”out of Gretchen’s mouth. “I don’t know what that is,” she sheepishly said, “but I like the way you say it.”
Gretchen scooted a little closer. “I’m sorry for being such an ass this past month. I’m… well, to be honest, I’m super embarrassed about it. It’s a big reason I haven’t apologized to you yet. But the thought of letting Christmas go by without at least clearing the air between us hurt my head. Although knowing I was speaking to someone who should be like, ninety, hurts.”
“I look good for eighty-nine, don’t I?”
“You look great.” Gretchen suavely moved into her next thought. “Do you want to come back to my place until your dinner reservation? I’ve got this great pie my aunt sent home with me yesterday. I can’t eat it all by myself.” When Thelma didn’t immediately respond—and instead coyly looked at her as if she could do better—Gretchen continued, “Maybe we could watch a movie with some hot cocoa? There’s still a lot of Katharine Hepburn movies I haven’t seen.” She diverted her gaze. “That woman was prolific, huh?”
Thelma finished claiming the space between them as she, too, scooted closer. “Do you know what I want from my life now that I’m here, Gretch?” she softly asked.
“What?”
“I want to do all the things I couldn’t do back then, either because of the time or because I was stolen away from my family. I want to go back to school and get my degree. I want to get married to a woman. And I want another kid or two, because there’s this empty hole in my heart that never got to finish raising my children.” She bit back the part of her that still mourned that—now was not the time. “Those are the three main things. So, the question is, Gretchen Stewart…” Their shoulders brushed together. This was the closest she had been to another woman since Vegas, and Thelma suppressed any butterflies wreaking havoc in her chest, her stomach, and her hungry loins. “Do you think my credits from 1949 would transfer to a four-year university?”
Gretchen collapsed against the bench, pulling Thelma down with her into a kiss that Miriam Ortiz could go home and tellherwife about.
The pie wasn’t as good as one of Thelma’s, but something told her that Gretchen’s aunt used subpar pumpkin.Times have changed, haven’t they, Betty Crocker?Thelma was content to eat it with whipped cream straight out of a can, though, because it was with Gretchen, in her house, in a world where nobody cared if they saw them kissing at home.
Because there was a lot of kissing to catch up on.
“Hey!” Gretchen lurched back as Thelma left a dollop of canned whipped cream on her nose. “You’re a handful, aren’t you?”
“You tell me, Ms. Stewart. You’re the one here who’s had her hands all over me before.”
Just for that, Gretchen grabbed her at the kitchen table, sliding a kiss right on her neck as Thelma put the fork in her mouth, laughing and trying not to stab herself on the tongue.
Although they had left the cemetery at the same time, they had to take their separate cars, and Thelma arrived thirty minutes later because she stopped by the only grocery store still open on Christmas and picked up a few things to make her “world-famous” snickerdoodles. They baked in Gretchen’s oven now as they fought to keep their hands from roaming all over one another, letting bygones be bygones now that the shock was gone from Gretchen’s system. Yet when their mouths weren’t occupied with pie, cookies, or tonguing, they went over whatever questions the one had for the other.
“So youdidn’tstay in the ‘50s long enough to see Kennedy elected?”
“No. Barely heard of him, honestly. That family sounds quite tragic, though. By the way, did you know that there are now like ten billion people on this planet?”
“I don’t think it’s quite that many yet, but we’re working on it. So, how much were groceries in one week?”
“About twenty dollars. Crazy that you pay that for a whole meal in a regular restaurant now! Do you know how two women could have a baby now?”
“Uh, you either use a donor or do something like IVF.”
“What do you mean by a donor?”
“That’swhat you don’t understand?” Gretchen pulled the pie plate closer to her and stole Thelma’s fork out of her hand. “Come on, we’re getting ahead of ourselves on the baby thing.”
