Page 25 of Time for You

Daphne stood in the kitchen, teaching Henry the joys of eating peanut butter straight from the jar, when there was a knock at the door. “Can I come home now?” Ellie called plaintively.

“It’s safe.” Daphne giggled and hid her face in Henry’s shoulder.

“Oh thank god, you’re both dressed,” Ellie said.

“Whatever else would we be wearing?” Henry asked.

“You obviously haven’t paid enough attention to the postcoital scenes in rom-coms.” Ellie clucked. “She should be wearing your shirt and nothing else.”

Henry raised his eyebrows at Daphne, making her break out into giggles again. Daphne wasn’t much of a giggler, except, it would seem, when it came to Henry. “Perhaps we shall wait for you to have a night shift, then, because I like the sound of that.”

“As long as I don’t have to see it.” Ellie stuck her head back out the door. “It’s safe, guys,” she announced.

“Oh thank god,” Brittany said, holding the door for Vibol and Michelle.

“I ask again, is this a communal apartment?” Henry muttered.

“It is, yeah,” Vibol replied.

“So are you staying for good?” Michelle asked.

Henry tossed Daphne a sad look. “I cannot, no. When the solstice arrives, I’ll have to leave.”

“When does the portal open again after that?” Vibol asked. “It’s a while, right?”

“Seven years,” Daphne said, and had to clear her throat.

Vibol whistled low. “Then we’ll have to make it a kickass few months, won’t we?”

Henry wrapped his arm around Daphne’s waist and tugged her closer. “What did you have in mind?”

Daphne held the bike steady while Henry fiddled with the buckle on his helmet. “Is this really necessary?” he asked, pointing to the helmet.

It did, admittedly, look dorky as hell. But Daphne was an emergency department doctor, and that meant she’d seen more head injuries in the last eight months than she cared to count. “Yes, very much so,” she said. “Now hop on.”

Henry looked dubious but did as she instructed.

They had practiced in the gym in their building’s basement on an exercise bike so he could get a feel for it, but now they were on an empty basketball court at a park in the middle of downtown, not too far from where she’d first run him over—on that very bike.

“It’s just like how you practiced, except now you have to balance.

The faster you go, the easier it will be. ”

“How can I go fast if it’s standing still?”

“I’ll hold on and push to get you started,” Daphne said. “And if you feel like you’re going to fall, just jump off. It’s just like riding a horse.”

“Is it?” Henry asked, cocking his head.

“I assume so. I’ve never done it.”

Henry grinned. “Then perhaps that’s the next thing we shall try.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss to her cheek, quick and thoughtless, and she wished she could have this forever. It was so easy with him, so of course it would have an end date.

Henry placed his feet on the pedals and gave her an uneasy nod, accompanied by a crooked grin as she pushed the bike by the seat and started jogging.

Henry pedaled just as they had practiced, so Daphne let go and stopped running, only to see him wobble and fall over a mere five feet in front of her.

He had tried to do what she’d instructed—let the bike crash and jump off—but he got tangled and went down on the pavement with a very undignified grunt.

Daphne hurried over to help, picking the bike up while Henry inspected his arms and legs.

“Nothing’s bleeding,” he observed. “But that was a bit harder than riding a horse, you know.”

Daphne held out her hand to pull him up. “Let’s try again.”

Henry managed to keep the bike going straight without toppling over at least four times before they called it quits. He still couldn’t turn very well, and braking was hit or miss, but he was getting there. “What about you?” he asked as they walked her bike back to the building.

“Already know how to ride a bike, thanks.”

He snorted. “I meant, what would you want to do? I wanted to learn how to ride a bike, but while I’m here, what do you want to do?” He faltered slightly on here , as did her heart.

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Promise,” he vowed seriously.

“I want to go on a date. A real date, where we get dressed up and go somewhere nice to eat and split a bottle of wine.” She looked down and away, wondering why the admission was making her blush.

“Why would that make me laugh?” Henry asked.

“It’s just—cheesy. Corny. Outdated.”

“Is it what you want?”

“It is,” Daphne said.

“Then where do you want to eat?”

Daphne clasped the necklace her parents had gotten her as a med school graduation present around her neck and stepped back, her stomach oddly fluttery.

They had reservations at a restaurant in the Warehouse District, a new place by some up-and-coming chefs that featured the kitchen in the center, so Henry would be able to watch how they prepared food.

Given his obsession with cooking shows, she thought he might like that, and she’d been wanting to try it but hadn’t had an excuse for dropping quite that much money on one dinner before now.

The restaurant itself wasn’t overtly fancy, but since this was her fancy date night, dammit, Daphne had gone for a simple black dress and heels.

Dressy but not fussy. She forced herself to stop smoothing her hair back and adjusting the neckline of her dress and just go out into the living room, where Henry and Vibol were bickering over the correct way to tie a tie.

“Hey, Daph,” Vibol said with a half glance her way. “Your man’s almost ready, if he would just. Stop. Fidgeting.”

Henry glanced her way and went abruptly still.

Slowly he turned to face her, his eyes dragging up and down her body in a way she could almost feel .

The tips of his ears turned red, and she bit her lip, absurdly pleased that even after they’d slept together, he could get flustered just looking at her.

“Are you ready, my lady?” he asked formally, after the silence between them had drawn out long enough that Vibol appeared ready to snap.

“Ready,” she confirmed, and took his offered arm. There might not be much time for them, but she’d be damned if she wasted a second.

Henry eyed the wine list carefully, a vaguely amused look on his face, before ordering a bottle for them to split.

Henry had been enthralled when they arrived, delighted to be able to watch the chefs at work, and had torn his eyes away from them only when it was time to choose the wine.

He had done a hilarious double take when he first saw the prices, although he had since recovered, mostly because Daphne had assured him she could afford it.

When the server was safely out of earshot, Daphne raised her eyebrows. “What’s so funny?”

Henry shrugged. “All the dates for the wine are in the past from now, but sometimes it still feels like those years are in the future.”

Daphne considered that. It had seemed like Henry had adapted to the twenty-first century very seamlessly by now, but he was still a man out of time. “What’s it like, though? The past?”

The server returned with the bottle, and they both leaned back, waiting until she’d departed again. “Quieter,” he said thoughtfully. “And darker, although the night sky is brighter. Getting dressed is far more involved, especially for women, and the clothing is a lot less comfortable.”

“But what’s it like for you? What do you miss?”

“My family, of course. And George.” Henry took a sip of wine, playing with the stem of the glass.

“There’s fewer demands on your attention there.

Makes it easier to be absorbed in work, although harder to be informed.

You have so many choices here, so many options when it comes to everything, that I think it’s easy to be overwhelmed, while back home everything is just—quieter. Not necessarily simpler, but quieter.”

“You make it sound lovely,” Daphne said.

“It is—was,” Henry corrected himself. “In some ways. In others, I’m not so sure.

People’s lives are freer now, less constricted.

Not just women, either. I feel more like myself here, and I don’t think I ever really thought about it that way back then.

My sisters would be happier here, and George, too.

Maybe even my mother, although it’s hard to imagine her in something like jeans. ”

“Have you ever thought about seeing what their lives were like? Looking into it?” Daphne asked. The server set their plates down, and they tucked into their first course.

“I talked about it with Ellie once. But she thought because I’m planning to go back, it wouldn’t be a good idea. Might screw things up, somehow.” He didn’t look up at her while speaking, and once again the specter of his departure appeared between them.

Daphne swallowed over the lump in her throat. “What’s something you’re looking forward to? When you go back?”

Henry paused, gazing over at the open kitchen for long enough that Daphne wondered if he hadn’t heard her question.

“The feel of the fireplace in the evening. Modern heating is marvelous, don’t get me wrong, but I miss spending evenings reading in front of the fireplace with my mother and Annie and Mags, hearing the hiss and crackle of logs and feeling the heat when I approach the hearth. ”

Part of Daphne wanted to protest that he could experience that in the twenty-first century, that they had fireplaces here, too.

But she knew that wasn’t really what he missed; he missed his family, the feeling of comfort that came from being home .

She couldn’t blame him for that and knew she would probably miss something equally quotidian, if she had accidentally fallen through a time portal.

Probably just sitting around with Ellie on a quiet morning, drinking coffee and doing a crossword puzzle.

Nothing that on the surface couldn’t be replicated elsewhere, but would never feel the same without Ellie.

“I’m sorry, I’ve made you sad,” Henry said. “I didn’t mean to. This is supposed to be a date, and I’m given to understand these should be light and fun.”

“They’re whatever they need to be,” Daphne said, and then did something that she never would have thought she’d do.

She stood up and walked around the edge of the table, bending down and kissing him solidly.

A few tables around them broke into scattered claps and nervous giggles, and Daphne straightened, smiling down at him. “I love you, Henry. No matter what.”

Henry tangled his fingers with hers, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand. “I love you too, Daphne. Always.”