Lost in Time(73)
*
As the baby grew inside of her, Adeline’s mother became more fatigued. Her projects around the house grew less ambitious.
In the second half of summer, they spent most of their time sewing. As a child, Adeline had thought her mother’s hobby was the most boring thing ever invented. Here and now, at almost twenty years old, in the presence of the mother she had already lost once, she relished every minute of it.
In the corner of the small family room, they sewed baby clothes and toddler outfits that Adeline’s younger self would soon wear. Finally, after all this time, Adeline saw what her mother loved about sewing, the joy of making something from scratch, the serenity of the motions, of creating something your child could enjoy, and doing something to help provide for your family. Like building a life, sewing was much more than knitting pieces together.
As summer came to an end and the first hint of fall descended on Palo Alto, their afternoon and early evening projects were cut shorter, and increasingly they found themselves sitting on the couch, watching TV, her mother grimacing as the child inside of her kicked relentlessly at night.
They watched the first three seasons of LOST, and Adeline and her mother both cursed the world when they learned the fourth season wouldn’t be out on DVD until Christmas. They agreed that it was so, so unfair.
The idea of people being stranded on a strange time travel island made Adeline think of her father on Pangea. Except, of course, he wasn’t battling a smoke monster and finding things buried on the island.
*
One night, during a game of Scrabble, her mother said, “Speaking of spelling things, I wanted to ask you something.”
Adeline raised her eyebrows.
“Your name. It’s so pretty. Sam and I have really struggled to find one we love. I wondered if you would mind if we named our daughter Adeline.”
“Not at all. I’d love that.”
*
Adeline’s investment accounts continued to swell that summer, but she didn’t spend much of the money. She did, however, buy a used Camry that had just gotten off a corporate lease. She needed reliable transportation for what was about to happen.
On Monday, September 8, 2008, around lunchtime, Adeline was sitting in the nursery, unboxing the baby monitor, when her mother called from the master bathroom, through the bedroom across the hall.
“Adeline!”
She ran in and found her mother clutching her bulging stomach. “I’m having contractions.”
“Just breathe. They might pass. How close are they?”
*
An hour later, Adeline was behind the wheel of her car, driving her mother to the hospital.
The expectant mother had her eyes closed, whispering. “She’s over a week early.”
Her phone vibrated, and she answered it. “Sam. She’s coming.”
*
But he didn’t get home in time. Adeline, however, was there to see her mother holding her infant form, the glow on her face, the twinkle in her eyes. It was the happiest thing she had ever seen.
Adeline knew it was about time to go. She made a deal with herself: she would stay one more night.
Her mother’s eyes were still closed the next morning when she leaned over the hospital bed and kissed her on the head. She lingered a long moment over the bassinet, staring down at herself, thinking about what an unexpected life awaited that young child.
As she was walking out the front door of the hospital, her father was rushing in, gasping for breath, his clothes disheveled. Geneva was nine hours ahead. He must have caught the red-eye.
The LHC would go live later today. He had missed both births, but his life was about to change nevertheless.
In the used Camry, Adeline drove to Draeger’s Market on University Drive, at the corner of Santa Cruz, and made her way to the bakery section. The woman behind the counter spotted her, set down a pastry bag, and wiped the excess icing on her hands on a white apron.
“What can I get you, dear?”
“I’d like a birthday cake.”
The woman plopped an order pad on the metal counter and clicked a pen, ready to take notes. “Size?”
“The largest you have.”
“Would you like a name on it?”
“Yes. I’d like my own name on it.”
The woman looked up, surprised.
“It’s my birthday today.”
“All right. What’s your name, dear?”
“Daniele. You spell it with one N and one L.”
FIFTY
In the fall of 2008, Adeline moved to Santa Barbara. Her mother was taking maternity leave from teaching that semester, and she felt that it was best to leave the Bay Area. There was too much risk of running into her father or being photographed.
And besides, she knew from living with Daniele that San Andreas Capital had been based in Santa Barbara initially.
For a while, she lived the life of a loner. She learned all she could about quantum physics. She planned the events she knew had to happen. In the winter evenings, she read by the fire. When the weather allowed, she took long walks, listening to audiobooks and learning foreign languages, including German, Korean, and Chinese.
She kept in touch with her mother, who gave her updates on the infant that was now the center of her and her husband’s lives.
In March of 2009, as the stock market was reaching the nadir of the bear market brought on by the financial crisis, her mother remarked on a lengthy call that “Sam wants to sell all of our stocks. He’s convinced the bottom is going to fall out of everything. He wants to use the money to buy a bigger house. They’re practically giving them away right now compared to prices a few years ago.”