Lost in Time(67)

But in a strange twist of fate, Adeline now had more time with her mother, in a period when she was whole and young—all the things Adeline wanted her to be.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize the class had ended. Most of the students had already left. At the long table at the front, her mother was leaning over to put her laptop in a messenger bag. The baby bump was already showing, the daughter growing inside of her that would be born in six months, a daughter they would name Adeline Grace.

Her mother looked up and eyed Adeline, the kind smile returning.

She slung the messenger bag over her shoulder and began climbing the steps of the rows of desks, making a beeline for Adeline, who found that she couldn’t move.

“Hi,” her mother said, breathing a little heavy from the climb.

Adeline swallowed. “Hi.” She said the word carefully. This was dangerous. Causality and all that. But she stayed. Because this was also the one thing Adeline had wanted for so many years: another chance to talk to her mother.

“It’s too late to add the class, I’m afraid.”

Adeline nodded. Of course her mother wouldn’t recognize her. She didn’t know what the daughter she was carrying inside of her would look like nineteen years from now. The Adeline sitting before her simply looked like a Stanford undergrad—because Adeline was one (or would be).

“It’s okay,” Adeline said.

“I don’t mind if you audit.” Her mother shrugged. “I’m not supposed to, but I’ll even grade your test. Just can’t give you credit.”

“I understand.”

“Okay then.”

Her mother moved to leave. Adeline stood. “Hey. I could help.”

Her mother cocked her head. “Help with what?”

“Anything. You don’t have a TA, right?”

She laughed. “Not this semester. Or the last few.”

“I’d be happy to volunteer.”

“What’s your name?”

“Adeline.”

Her mother considered that a moment and smiled. “That’s a pretty name.”

Adeline nodded. She swallowed, emotion overtaking her, not trusting her voice to speak.

“You don’t hear it much.”

“No,” Adeline managed. “You don’t.”

“Well. The truth is, I’d love some help.”

Adeline nodded again. She couldn’t remember being this happy in a long time.

Her mother moved to the door and paused there and looked. “See you Wednesday, Adeline. I typically get to class about twenty minutes early.”

“I’ll be here.”





FORTY-FIVE


When she left Jordan Hall, Adeline walked down Serra Mall to the bus stop and rode into Palo Alto.

At this point, she needed what every time traveler eventually needs: money. In the local currency.

Daniele, when she had knocked Adeline out and placed her in the Absolom machine, had seen fit to remove her electronic devices and credit cards—not that they would work here anyway. She had, however, left her something very valuable that she could trade, and those two items were hanging from Adeline’s ears.

She contemplated that mystery and others as she stood in the jewelry store on University Avenue, waiting as the jeweler eyed the diamond earrings with a loupe.

Why had Daniele sent her here? To Stanford, her own university, a place she knew well? And why now, Monday, March 17, 2008?

It was St. Patrick’s Day. That much was clear from the signs in the windows of the bars along the bus route. The upcoming weekend was Easter. That was clear from the signs in front of the churches.

The country was still nominating its candidates for a presidential election that would have the biggest turnout in forty years. It would be the first time in fifty-six years that a sitting president or vice president wasn’t on the ticket.

In the background was an event very few realized the significance of: a brewing global financial crisis that would roil markets. Fortunes would be lost. And made.

“I’ll give you eight thousand,” the jeweler said, setting the earrings down.

“Twelve.”

“Can I see your ID?”

Adeline stared at him. “You can’t, actually.”

“Why?”

Adeline opted for the truth—or a small part of it that fit the situation. “I don’t have it on me.”

The man squinted at her, then picked up the stone again. “May I ask why you’re selling such a lovely piece?”

“Financial need. I recently lost my parents.”

Adeline was surprised at how easily the half-truth came, how comfortable she was with deception.

The man shifted the stone. “There’s something written here.”

“What?”

“I think it’s a series of numbers, but I can’t read them. The letters are too small.”

The man set the earrings down again and motioned to the corner, where a woman was working on a microscope. “It’s broken.”

Adeline wondered if this was some kind of trap—something Daniele had set up. Perhaps some way to land her in jail? Or worse, get her killed? Maybe the stones were from some dead mobster’s wife who was robbed and killed and now the entire criminal organization was looking for the assassin to exact revenge.