“I’ve told her what I told the neighbor.”
“You told Gretchen that I was in a cult!”
Megan shrank away from her. “Oh, God. She told you?”
“You might be surprised what comes back to bite you in the bottom, young lady.”
Emma snorted in amusement.
“What has she told you, Emma? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your last name.”
“Tran,” Emma said. “Emma Tran.”
“Of course. Ms. Tran.”
“Thelma… come on…” Megan said.
“What? I’m being polite.”
Emma cut in before things could get more awkward between Thelma and her granddaughter. “She’s told me a lot about you,” Emma admitted. “Especially how you, uh, got here…”
“Emma!”
While pressing corners of napkins together, Thelma looked up from her lap and hit Megan right where it hurt most—with a mother’s all-knowing gaze.You fine-tune it after your first child.With a boy like Robbie? Ha! “So, she knows that I’m actually your grandmother, time-traveled here from 1958?”
“Well, uh…”
“Yes!” Emma leaned forward, her arm banging against the table, and her not giving a single damn. “I didn’t believe it at first! I thought she was pulling my leg!” Emma’s voice grew increasingly louder as she finally let loose the intensity of her thoughts. “But then she showed me all of the stuff from the FBI! I thought that either she had officially lost her mind because ofcomputer science class or she was trying to pull a massive prank on me.”
“How lovely.” Thelma smacked another folded napkin atop the pile she had accumulated between her and Megan.
“I swear I didn’t mean to,” Megan said. “It just kinda fell out of my mouth one day. I mean, Emma and I have been together as long as we’ve been in college. I tell her everything! Do you know how hard it was to keep something as major asthisto myself? It was impossible!”
“I’m not judging you, sweetheart.” Thelma sighed. She had run out of napkins. Now, what would she busy her hands with? “I just worry about it getting out and the FBI being angry at all of us. Your father is going through enough stress as it is.”
“Holy shit. So cool.”
Thelma resituated herself in her seat, giving Emma Emma her undivided attention. “That’s what Megan kept saying when we first met.”
“In the FBI building…”
“So. Cool.”
Thelma allowed a smile of acknowledgment to cross her face. “It’s been a major adjustment. Megan has been a wonderful guide in this brand-new world.”
“You should have seen her the first time we were in the feminine hygiene aisle.”
“Now, Megan, that’s not necessary…”
“See?” Megan conspiratorially leaned in toward her girlfriend. “Look how flustered she is. She told me they used to use abeltto hold pads in place back in the ‘50s.”
“Pads? Oh, my God. I could never anymore.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of the other options these days.” Thelma got up, taking the stack of cloth napkins with her to the hallway linen closet. “I’m quite comfortable with what I have!” She returned empty-handed. “No belts required.”
“Did you know that self-adhering pads weren’t a thing until the ‘70s?” Megan asked Emma.
“Whoa. What about tampons? That’s all I use.”
