Read Just in Time: Portals of Time Online
Authors: Kathryn Shay
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Time Travel
THE WOMAN ALEX
Lansing had arranged to interview today to care for his children was late, and if he could reach her—he tried the one phone number she’d given him, but there was no answer—he’d tell her he wasn’t going to consider her for the job. Punctuality was an important quality he required in a sitter and she apparently didn’t have it. His life was too busy to have unreliable people surrounding him.
You’re life’s too busy, anyway, darling.
Damn it to hell. Sometimes he could hear Lila’s voice as if she was in the room with him. And she often chided him like this, especially about working too hard. The voice had started not long after her death three years ago from uterine cancer and came to him periodically. He was half tempted to go see a shrink.
He waited for the caregiver in his home office in a separate wing of his house. Though he had a lab and private work space at Global Pharmaceuticals, the organization that sponsored his research, he preferred to work here as it was more private.
Finally, his phone buzzed and his housekeeper, Ann Kramer’s voice came over the line. “Dr. Lansing, Celeste Hart is here to see you.”
“I’ll be right out.” As he locked up the room and made his way to the foyer, he pictured the woman he’d spoken with on Skype. Her voice had been soft and coaxing, and he’d felt…reassured by it. She’d said everything he wanted to hear. And her face, when she’d talked about his kids, mesmerized him. But she was going to need to impress the hell out of him now for him to change his mind about finding someone else who dealt better with time.
When he came face-to-face with her, that magnetic draw returned, only more intensely. He took in her dark auburn hair and clear blue eyes and felt as if he was drifting closer to her, almost touching her, though he was rooted to the spot where he stood. Instead of squirming, she studied him with interest.
When he realized he was staring, he coughed nervously. “Good morning, Ms. Hart, let’s sit in there.” He pointed to the living room off to the left.
“Hello, Dr. Lansing,” she said then preceded him into the room. She was a tall woman, but there was a delicacy about her. Dressed in white pants and matching jacket with a pink shirt beneath the suit, she took a chair across from him in the room they didn’t use much anymore. They used to spend a fair amount of time in here when Lila was alive.
Before he could comment on Ms. Hart’s lateness, she spoke. “It’s unconscionable to be eight minutes past our arranged meeting time.” She shrugged a shoulder. On closer examination, she was well toned and feminine at the same time. “I’m not familiar with your mass transit, and I’m afraid I became lost.”
Something about her dignified apology calmed him. Hell, something about
her
erased his irritation and gave him a settled feeling inside. “You don’t drive?”
“Ah, no. I took a bus here.”
That could be a problem. Maddy had her license and drove Lila’s car, but the boys sometimes needed to be taken places after school. They often carpooled, so maybe he could work something out with his neighbors.
She added, “I can assure you, I’m usually punctual.”
“You’re from out of town, then?”
“Yes, a small city in upstate New York. We didn’t have mass transit and we walked everywhere.” She reached into a bag. “You’ve seen my references and résumé, but these are harder copies.”
Harder
copies
?
He took the papers. Their fingers brushed, and he settled even more, amazed at the sense of well-being enveloping him. “Thanks for these. But I’d prefer you tell me about your life.” Alex knew people revealed more when they talked about themselves.
“I grew up in South America, where my do…parents were missionaries. We moved to the United States when I went to a study course at college. I attended a small, private educational institution in Rochester. I married my college sweetheart when I was twenty-one. He died in a car accident when I was thirty.” She gave him a sad smile. “That’s when I stopped driving vehicles. I’ve worked in day care or done private child sitting all my life. I…cannot bear children of my own.”
He was surprised at the personal remark, so oddly phrased. “What brought you to Virginia?”
“One of my sisters recently obtained a job in Washington, D.C. We wanted to be together.”
“You live with your sisters?”
“Yes.” She cocked her head. “That isn’t a problem, is it? I understood this job was for daytime and occasional evenings.”
“That’s not an issue. I work from home. My office is on the other side of the house. I have a housekeeper during the day, too, because you’ll focus on the children.”
She studied him oddly. Then she asked, “Do you work at home to be close to the young…ones?”
“No.”
In actuality, he conducted the analysis of his research from the privacy of his home office because early in his career, when he was employed by City University, his work had been hacked, changing the entire course of his professional life. He’d left the academic setting because of the theft, though for a year now, he went to City U to teach an Ethics in Science course.
Once Global had hired him, providing state-of-the-art security, he did his hands-on research at their facilities, but old habits died hard, and he still formulated his analysis at home. The only ones allowed in his office were the kids—when he was with them, of course—and his housekeeper.
“I’d like to spend more time with my children, though.”
“Sometimes,” Celeste began, “when we’re in the midst of our life’s work, we ignore those closest to us. People adjust, so long as it’s not forever.”
“Tell me about your views on child care. My children’s welfare is paramount to me.”
“I believe children need adults to like and respect them, yet not be considered a friend. A sense of humor is important. An understanding of human needs, no matter what age.”
Hmm. Again, almost his exact thinking.
“What about spanking? TV? Junk food?”
For a minute she seemed confused, then her eyes widened and she drew back. “I think spanking is barbaric, and if you hit your children, I couldn’t work for you. What’s more I’d advise you not to—”
He held up his hand, palm out. “I don’t spank. And wouldn’t hire you if you believed in corporal punishment.”
“Oh, well then.” She composed herself but that spark of fire intrigued him. “As far as junk food is concerned, a few indulgences seem harmless. And I confess I like the video box, but again, if you’re spending quality time with the children, that wouldn’t be an issue.”
Leaning back in his chair, he watched her. She was one of the calmest people he’d ever met. And she came across as totally sincere. “I like your answers, Ms. Hart.”
She didn’t seem surprised. “I’m glad.”
“I’m a bit worried you don’t drive.”
“I…I didn’t know that was a requirement.”
“It’s not,” he decided suddenly. “We’ll compensate if we choose you. Would this job be enough for you? I pay well, but a high school student did it before and didn’t need to support herself.”
“I have adequate funds.”
“Money isn’t important to you?”
She looked at him blankly for a minute. Her eyes were pure blue, with no hint of other colors. They were quite unusual. “Of course money is important. But I have a family fund of trust—trust fund—and I don’t need to work. I enjoy children. I would like to have a chance to know yours.”
Again, something about her pulled him in. He knew in his gut she’d be good with his kids.
“All right,” he said, despite his earlier misgivings about her punctuality. “Let’s give it a shot. I need someone tomorrow at four and the young woman I have until the end of May is busy. I was going to cancel my meeting, but now I won’t have to.”
She smiled mysteriously. For some reason, he felt as if she knew he’d do exactly what she wanted him to.
o0o
THE DAY AFTER
the interview, Celeste braced herself when she rang the doorbell to the Lansing dwelling. The wonderful sun had been beating down on her as she walked from the transit stop, and the air surrounding her was blissfully warm. She’d been in this time period for six weeks, and thinking about the constant gray air out of inside in the 26
th
century, she knew she’d never stop relishing the light of day. She still didn’t take for granted the sun, the trees, which blew in gentle breezes, or even the wood this house was made of.
The door opened. The small, silver-haired woman from yesterday stood before her. Ann Kramer, the keeper of the house. “Hello, Ms. Hart.”
“Mrs. Kramer. Nice to see you again.”
“You, too. Come in. Dr. Lansing’s waiting for you in the office with the children.”
Celeste stepped into the small space called a foyer. Today she’d dressed in a yellow, cotton blouse that bared her arms and a skirt that did not cover her legs. She loved the feel of the material on her skin. In her hand, she held what the women of today carried…a purse…and followed Ann Kramer from the large entryway, across a real stone floor down a wide corridor. This house was even larger than Jess Cromwell’s dwelling. They passed rooms on either side of a hallway, one where she’d been interviewed. Each was filled with beautiful colors and textures and different-shaped couches and chairs. Her terminology was improving though she occasionally misspoke and labeled them conformers. She entered the last room and was amazed by the deep, rich red of the walls, the burnished wood on the high ceilings and tall shelves stuffed with real books.
Alex Lansing sat at his desk. A male youngling played a game on a small handheld machine. Another worked from books and papers at a nearby table. The female youngling wasn’t present.
“Dr. Lansing?”
Turning, he glanced up and covered the speaker of the phone he held. “Hold on a sec, Dad. Hello. I didn’t hear the bell.”
In front of him sat his computer. His research notes would be in the system. It was Celeste’s task to find a way to access that work.
“Come on in. I’ll be done in a minute.” Back into the device, he added, “Have fun, Dad. Just don’t let Mom go parasailing again. See you in a month.” After he clicked off, he said, “That was my father.”
“Are they enjoying their Mediterranean cruise?” Mrs. Kramer asked.
“Very much so.” He turned his attention to Celeste. “Good afternoon, Ms. Hart.”
“Dr. Lansing.” Coming fully into the room, she transferred her gaze back to the younglings—she
must
call them children. Dr. Lansing said, “Kids, this is Ms. Hart.”
“Hi.” The littlest stood. She glanced at his donor…father. As the computeller had shown, they shared the same light complexion and blue eyes and dark blond hair. The tilt of their mouths was identical when they almost smiled. “I’m Cody.”
“Hello, Cody.”
The boy seemed content. Kind. Something else, too, but she wouldn’t be able to intuit what it was until she touched him.
The other male stepped forward. Fascinated by his hair—it was lighter than any she’d seen so far—she moved closer and took a good look at his face. His visage was too sober for a child, and complicated vibes shimmered off him. “I’m Jonathan.”
“Hello.” She scanned the room. “Where’s Madison?”
“She had a meeting at school today that I didn’t know about,” Dr. Lansing explained. “She’s very active. She’ll be home later, but I’ll be gone. Ann can show you around before she leaves.”
“Would it be possible for the children to acquaint me with the house?”
Dr. Lansing gave her a full smile. “Sure.” He said to the younglings, “All right, guys?”
Jonathan stared over at his father. “Do you have to go, Dad? It’s Saturday.”
“Sorry son. But you’ll have fun getting to know Ms. Hart. And I’ll be back before you go to bed.”
The resignation on Jonathan’s face tugged at Celeste.
Mrs. Kramer cleared her throat. Celeste had forgotten she was there. “I’ll be in the kitchen, finishing supper, while the boys take you on your tour. I hope you like chicken, Ms. Hart.”
Animal product of the poultry family. Helen had cooked some, and Celeste liked it.
“I’m not fussy about food.”
Because we never had any.
“Well, good.” Dr. Lansing stood.
Today he wore nicely fitting tan trousers and a shirt of brown that accented his coloring. He took a coat off the back of his chair—it was lightweight and tailored—and shrugged into it. “I’m off.” Bending down, he kissed Cody’s cheek. “Don’t give Ms. Hart a hard time on the first day, kiddo.”
“Me?” Cody’s smile was devious.
Dr. Lansing ruffled Jonathan’s hair, then stood back. “I’ll escort you out.” He waited until they were in the hallway, locked the door, then walked away carrying a chip-like thing called a flashdrive.
“So,” Celeste said, “I’m all yours.”
Cody grinned and took her hand. Ah, that was it, he liked to play pranks, to have fun at the expense of others. She, Dorian and Celeste engaged in some of those when they were young. This little one was…what was the word…oh, yes, mischievous.
She glanced at the older boy. He was shorter than her five foot, eight inches but getting some good form on him for being eleven yearlings. “Is it Jon or Jonathan?”
“Um, Jon.”
“Jon. I know you wish your dad was here and not me. But he has work to do. And I’d like to get to know you. Would you show me your room first?”
“Okay.” He brushed Celeste’s arm as he headed down the hall. She was hit with a sense of sadness so strong it momentarily immobilized her. This was one unhappy child.
They climbed an open staircase made of richly grained wood, and the ceiling had glass apertures in it. Sun streamed through them and she sighed.
“I like the sun, too,” Cody said, catching her reaction. She’d have to be careful around this one.
“Good. Maybe we can go for a walk out of inside.”
Jon frowned. “Out of inside?”
“You mean outdoors?” Cody suggested.
“Um, of course.” Megadamn, she kept making that mistake.
Jon gave her a skeptical look, one she’d seen on Alex Lansing’s face, too. When he reached the entrance of a room, he stopped.