For Layla

Helen appeared by The gates of the Eternal Rest Cemetery, weary and agitated.  Death, mourned in the old way, frightened her. The cost was equally frightening, but she’d promised Layla so long ago:

They would lie together. 

Five more minutes, she thought, and the procession will begin.  Where was the rain on this obscene day- a flood to baptize the burden carried on young shoulders?  Helen shoved a hand into her pocket. Stiff fingers brushed against an antique watch - her talisman, her guide…her anchor. Her fingers tingled as if burned by hot candles. She withdrew her hand, and rubbed it against the cold gate.

Time was up: Six women moved past the entrance, forcing her to press against the wrought iron. Then they lowered their precious cargo before the crypt. One of the pallbearers turned in Helen’s direction, dark brown eyes giving her a curious look. It was Tasha- young and vital, raven hair tumbling down her back in thick curls.

Helen looked away from Tasha and found the gray eyes of the woman who’d managed to bring them both to this hideous place. The woman stared back, her hair blowing in the cold wind like a fiery halo.

 Kathryn.

Helen’s insides twisted: Tasha had turned to embrace young Kathryn. Warmth suffused Helen’s aged bones as if Tasha had embraced her too, and the sensation broke her resolve. She gripped the gate latch as Kathryn knelt to lay a single rose atop the coffin’s slick metal surface.

Helen waited as the mourners departed, turning away as Kathryn passed by. She clutched the watch chain, and the familiar tingle entered her fingers.

Her words came soft as a prayer, “Give me time.”

***

Present Possibilities

“Maybe this time.” Kathryn laid her coffee cup on the windowsill, and checked her watch. Five more minutes, she thought, craning her neck to peer down the deserted street. The skies were overcast, grayer than the cigarette smoke lingering in her Park Avenue office. She bent and retrieved her umbrella, upsetting a stack of medical journals on her desk.

“Damn.”

Kathryn straightened. She had almost missed the young woman who moved with heedless grace past her window each morning. Today, the woman’s hair hung loose to her shoulders-a golden light in the bleak day.

“Beautiful,” Kathryn whispered.

Kathryn eyed the short leather jacket- the jeans hugging shapely legs. The heavy bag, slung over a broad shoulder-what was in it? Tupperware filled with salad, or a romantic novel, or two? No, Kathryn mused, she looks too serious for romance.

Kathryn raised her cup; spicy brew slipped over her tongue and flowed down her throat like velvet. She gazed upon the woman’s face.

Clear eyes looked up at her, head tilted, lips parted in surprise.

Kathryn froze. Captured like a wild bird, she pressed her hand on the glass and held the blue gaze. She moved closer to the window. Yet, the moment had passed. The young woman entered Club Elysian, closing the heavy door behind her.

What would her colleagues think:  a fellow psychiatrist enthralled with a complete stranger?  This obsessive behavior was the very thing she counseled against when dealing with enamored clients.

“For God’s sake, Katie. Try your luck,” Kathryn said before realizing she was not alone.

“What luck might that be?” It was Tasha Montero, her medical assistant. Her dark eyes sparkled with interest as she neared the window. “Oh, her.” 

“Remind me to put a bell around your neck.”

“She’s pretty, if you go for Hitchcock blondes with ice in their pants.” Tasha laughed. “Think she’s one of the dancers?”

“I doubt it.” Kathryn turned her gaze back to the window. “She’s there everyday.”

“Then let’s find out. I could go over with you…if you’re buying.”

“Are you forgetting the two hour lunch my money bought you yesterday?”

“Your last appointment canceled,” Tasha said, ignoring the question. “So, how about it-you and me?”

“You know I can’t be seen in… places like that.”  

“Well, I’m going anyway. Seven-thirty, Doc, unless you’re too chicken to chat with the babe.”

Kathryn sucked in a deep breath and it fell like a stone to the bottom of her lungs. “I’m not interested in bar talk. It’s so…calculated.”

“That’s the point,” Tasha said, eyeing her attentively. “You know another way to get a girl’s attention?”

Kathryn wondered how it would be to have a woman like the captivating blonde, hungering for her-pressing one of those long shapely legs between her thighs. Burning her with kisses until she passed out. Delirious. Senses overwhelmed...

“Thinking about your opening line?”

Kathryn blushed.

“You’re so cute when you’re red. It complements your hair.” Her assistant gracefully slipped into her coat and blew a kiss before leaving.

Cute. Kathryn cringed. She doubted that cute would win the blonde’s heart.

She pitched the remainder of her coffee into the wastebasket. The cigarette butt followed.  Damn the smoke alarms, she thought, lighting up again. 

***

Future Hope

Helen appeared outside the Eternal Rest Cemetery-same place, different time-her time. She gathered her bags and walked down the cobbled path, stepping over dislodged stones and broken bottles. Abandoned by the care of city workers, it was now the refuge of gangs and idlers taking up residence among the forgotten.

“But I haven’t forgotten, darling.”

She stopped in front of the marble crypt, running her hand along the worn inscription: Layla St. James. Beloved. Do you rest here now? Helen wondered. She recounted the many times she’d made the arduous journey to bring Layla back. “Wasting your life along the way,” her old friend Tasha once told her. “Living in the Old Quarter to be near her.”

Helen touched the carved letters again, hoping for what would be the last time, and then she picked up her bags and headed home.

***

Weary, and heart aching with past regrets, Helen dropped her bags near the door of her apartment. The headache had faded after the leap forward, and her palms were free of blisters after the long walk home. However, the memory of what she’d done had vanished, caught in a web of the past, waiting to resurface with the passage of time. Until then, she could only pray that her actions were fruitful.

Helen removed a stack of research papers from the couch, and was about to lie down when she heard a knock at the door.

“Tasha…it’s been almost-”

“Two years. So, it’s Helen now. How about next year? Alberta, Eunice?”

Helen opened her arms, but Tasha sidestepped the embrace and headed for the couch.  “I tried, but you refused to answer my phone calls or my letters,” Helen said. “Why now, after all this time, you decide to show up at my door?”

“Have you checked the archives lately?” Tasha tossed a crumpled microcopy on the coffee table. “Go on, read it.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter? Thirty years matters a lot to me!”

Helen tugged at the hem of her old-fashioned suit, smoothing out wrinkles before sitting beside her friend.  “Then nothing’s changed.”

“Oh, no, something’s changed all right. I took a nasty little spill last week. ” Tasha waved her cane at Helen for emphasis. “You’ve got to stop doing this. Your life-”

“It’s not my life! It’s her life.” Helen knelt by Tasha’s side. “If you could only remember that night-just a detail or two…anything. Anything that could help.”

“You can’t bring her back. If you would only…” Tasha ran a hand over her graying hair, briefly touching a jagged scar on her scalp.  “There are others who love you, Kathryn.”

“Don’t call me that.” Helen watched her friend rise and immediately regretted her harsh tone.

“Change your name all you want, but you’re still Kathryn Reilly…and our Layla’s still dead.”

“Tasha, don’t leave-not like this.”

“I have a class to teach.” Tasha sighed and lingered by the door. “Will you promise to give it up?”

Helen did not respond.

“No? Then you leave me no other choice, Kathryn.”

The door slammed, its harsh sound reverberating in Helen’s weary body. She reached for the paper and read the headline:

On October 3^rd, an intruder entered the home of Dr. Layla Saint James, killing the renowned scientist and wounding her companion, Dr. Kathryn Reilly and houseguest, Natasha Montero.

 Both Reilly and Montero are in stable condition at the…

Helen dropped the archive. “Dear God.” She pulled up her shirt and saw an unfamiliar scar. This makes no sense, she thought.  She had been away at a medical convention that night.

Her mind reeling from anger, Helen almost cried out. Someone else had muddied the Time Stream and forgot to clean up their mess. 

***

The Past Revisited

Helen entered the Hotel Marriott, lugging her bags after refusing the doorman’s assistance. She made her way to the front desk, cranky and worn from travel. She removed her scarf, revealing snow-white hair. Vanity had left her the day Layla died.

“Ah, Doctor Wells, welcome back to the Marriott.” The head clerk inclined his head. “So good to have you with us again. Will it be Room 79 B?”

“What?” Her mind was occupied with Kathryn and Layla, and a way to keep the two women apart. Permanently.

The clerk had to repeat his greeting since she hadn’t heard a word of it. 

“Good to see you again, too.” She scrawled one of her many aliases in the register: H. G. Wells, and her fingers ached from the exertion. She closed her hand to hide the blisters.

“Room 79 will be fine.” Helen gathered her bags. “Do you have the time?”

“Oh, it’s 6:10, Miss Wells.”

“I’m going to need a cab. Ring my room at 6:30.” She entered the elevator. “At precisely 6:30,” she warned, before the doors closed.

***

Kathryn paid the hefty cover charge and entered the Elysian. Years ago, entry had been free.  Now remodeled, as an executive-class nirvana, entrance for younger women in the City was usually off-limits. Vinyl replaced nail-studded leather, and carved wood panels graced stained glass windows. Kathryn ignored the sleek setting and headed for what used to be the bar.

The young woman, who traveled past her window everyday, sat behind the counter with her nose buried deep in a book. Her hair, usually flowing in loose curls, was swept into a tight bun. But the severity of it served only to increase the appeal of her lovely face.

Kathryn halted, gnats gathering in her belly. You can do this. Order something! What’s the matter with you? Thoughts, tangling like weeds, tied her feet to the floor. She lingered by the deserted reservation desk, and watched as two customers drew the beauty from her absorbing tome.

“Hello gorgeous, give us the usual. You know, I’ve always thought pretty girls should have pearls and diamonds instead of plastic nametags, ” said one of the women. “Have a soft landing when you fell to earth?” asked the other.

Unaffected by their banter, the young blonde served them hot concoctions with cool reserve. Though she didn’t bite on their compliments, the women left her a generous tip. She thanked them without smiling, and went back to her book.

Hitchcock indeed, Kathryn thought. She approached the bar, and leaned on the counter, damp fingers pressing cold marble.

“I don’t suppose I can get a brandy around here?” 

The young woman laid down her book, and her china blue eyes widened, stealing light from the room. “Alcoholic beverages are served upstairs,” she said, inclining her head toward the carpeted steps. Then she leaned close, her voice soft, “May I offer you a cup of coffee instead?”  

You could offer me a cup of mud, Kathryn mused, and I would come back for seconds. She looked up, and swore she saw a hint of mischief in the blonde’s eyes. Maybe it was a trick of the smoke drifting in the air, or the mirrors hanging on the wall. Or maybe the girl had recognized her from the window.  “Black, please, no sugar.”

The blonde took a step back from the counter, giving Kathryn a strange look. Then Kathryn backed up as well.

“Actually, I’m looking for my friend: petite brunette, about this high,” she raised her hand to the level of the girl’s nametag. “Layla, beautiful…name.”

“Can you provide me with a more detailed description of your friend?” 

Kathryn felt foolish, realizing half the women in the place were brunettes. “Okay, she came in wearing a red coat with a black collar.”

“The infamous Doctor Kathryn Reilly, no doubt?”

“Um…pardon? Well, yes.” Kathryn stared, befuddled by the scowl forming on Layla’s face.

Layla poured a spicy Ethiopian blend from a steel decanter. “Black. No sugar. No charge. This is the full extent of my service tonight.” She slid the crystal mug toward a stunned Kathryn. Then she flipped open her book. “Your friend is waiting upstairs,” she said without looking up.

“Nice meeting you too.” Kathryn strode quickly to the staircase, careful not to spill the “full extent of my service” coffee.

***

What the hell just happened back there? Kathryn made a beeline for Tasha, ready to drag her by the collar out into the freezing rain.

Tasha, oblivious to the gathering storm, sat near the bar with a drink in one hand, and a wad of bills in the other. She moved to loud music, mimicking the dancers onstage.

“Doctor Reilly, I presume?” Kathryn’s voice cut like a scythe through the pulsating noise.

“Oh!” Tasha whirled around on her stool. “Honey, sit down and have a drink.” 

“Have you been posing as me all night?”

“Only upstairs. It got me free drinks from the sugar mama over there.” Tasha waved to a raven-hair woman sitting in a booth with adoring friends.

“What did you say to Layla?”

“Who? Oh, you mean our young blonde downstairs? She’s a little pissed-off. Doesn’t like admirers, I guess.”

“Jesus.”

“That’s what I said, but not quite the same way you did.”

“Confess now, or I’ll leave you and your tab right here.” Kathryn grabbed the bills from Tasha’s hand.

Tasha sighed. “I told her ‘the love of your life is coming in around seven-thirty. So lose the books, and smile.’ Then I gave her your name, a ten spot, and instructions to serve your coffee unsweetened, ‘cause you’d rather have a candy kiss off those full red lips.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell me to kiss her ass.” A dark thought crossed Kathryn’s mind; maybe dreams should be left beyond one’s reach.

“You got your coffee, didn’t you? Screw her. Plenty of women would fall into your bed, if you bothered to give them a chance, honey.” Tasha turned her attention back to the dancers. “I know I would,” she said under her breath.

“Let’s go.” Kathryn handed Tasha her coat, then hauled her off the barstool.

“Bye, my sweet babies.” Tasha blew rum-soaked kisses to the dancers. “Wanna smooch, Doc?”

Kathryn ignored her and tossed the remainder of the dollars on the stage, refusing to look at the girls’ bare breasts.

“Listen carefully,” Kathryn said in a low voice brimming with fire, “we’re going to walk out of here pretending that we still have a little dignity left.”

Tasha burped.

***

“Club Elysian. This is the place, lady.” The cab driver shut off his meter and held out his hand for the fare. “Raining rocks out here. I got an extra umbrella. Want it, sugar?”

“Yes.” Helen took the welcomed offer. Then she paid the driver and exited the cab. Rain stung her face like needles as she fumbled with the old umbrella.

“Listen, I can wait ‘til your friends come out, doll.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” she said, happy to put some distance between them.

“Keep safe, sweetheart.” The driver rolled up his window then pulled away.

“Too late for that.” Helen’s heart sank; the shiny SUV was already parked outside the Elysian.

***

Layla stood by the Club’s front door conversing with one of the dancers. She watched as Kathryn descended the stairs with her sullen friend.

“I am not interested,” Layla said to the dancer. She slung her bag over her shoulder, loathed to go out into the heavy rain.

“The work is there, and baby, with that body…”

Layla flushed the color of ripe strawberries, but she was relieved when she found an excuse to get out of the embarrassing conversation. “You found your friend,” she said to Kathryn.

“Fortunately or unfortunately- I can’t decide which,” Kathryn answered. “I see you’re heading out. May I give you a ride home? It’s the least I can do after Tasha’s less than sterling introduction.”

Layla hesitated, but the thought of being soaked to the skin before reaching home was less than appealing. She gave Kathryn a nod of acceptance. “I will see you tomorrow, June,” she said to the dancer.

“Excellent.” Tasha purred and circled Layla like a panther. “You can sit next to me.”

“Tasha, the back seat belongs to you this trip.” Kathryn held the door, and invited Layla to share her umbrella.

“Wait a minute. I want both your names,” June demanded. “Just in case.”

Layla watched, somewhat amused as Kathryn ignored the dancer.

“Well,” Tasha bowed, “This is Doctor Reilly, and I’m Tasha Montero, the woman you dream about.”

June moved next to Layla and placed a well-toned arm around her shoulder. “You better call me in the morning-I want to make sure you got home all right.”

“I can take care of myself,” Layla assured her. “But I promise to call you.”

“The brunette’s really bombed, so be careful.”

Layla, wondering if June’s suspicions were well founded, sized up the two women. Both were shorter than her height of six feet, but Tasha had fire on her back, ready to tangle with a woman like June. The Doctor, well, Layla didn’t think the woman would chance risking her hands in a struggle.

Layla followed the two out into the heavy rain, crossing her fingers.

****

With fear-slicked palms and a dry mouth, Kathryn led them to her SUV. After seeing Layla for months through her office window, the thought of chatting her up with Tasha looking on was daunting. Jesus. Ask the girl to go out for Christ’s sake.

Kathryn pressed her hand to the small of Layla’s back, gently guiding her to the front of the car.

“I prefer the back,” Layla said, deftly slipping into the back seat.

Kathryn’s throat tightened. “Fine,” she said to the closed door.

Tasha had already made her way around to the front passenger side, and Kathryn got in next to her. She backed up, ready to pull out of the tight space when she felt the car bump something.

“What the hell?”

“Stop! Stop the car. Now!” Layla yelled.

“I think you hit someone,” said Tasha.

Layla opened the door and ran to the back of the car. She found a woman slumped over the trunk, her white hair drenched with rain. The woman turned to look at her, smiling of all things. Blood trickled from the woman’s nose, giving her teeth the ghastly look of a kid sated with cherry candy.

“I’m all right.” Helen Wells looked up at Layla, daring to embrace her. “Leave. Leave now, darling, before it’s too late.”

***

“I told you to leave.” Helen touched Layla’s cheek, staring at the flawless skin, reveling in the comfort of her youth. 

“Lean on me.” Layla took Helen’s arm.

“Oh, my God.” Tasha came over and assisted Layla with the unsteady woman.

“I didn’t see you there.” Kathryn pulled out her cell phone. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No!” Helen broke free of Tasha and Layla. “I’m fine-just bumped my head.” When Kathryn reached for her, she panicked and grabbed Layla by the arm.

“But-”

“I said no.” An ambulance meant police, and police meant filing reports. She’d polluted the time line enough. “If this young lady will be kind enough to escort me to my hotel, then we can forget about this ever happening. Flag down a cab.”

“A cab? She’s gotta be kidding.” Tasha said.

“I’m Doctor Kathryn Reilly. If you think I’m going to let you out of my sight, you’re…”

Helen shrank from Kathryn’s touch. “I’m staying at the Marriott. Just hail a cab.” She stood her ground when Kathryn balked. “Do it!”

“Absolutely not. Tasha, Layla, help her into the car.”

Helen watched through narrowed eyes as Kathryn marched to the front and got into the driver’s seat. Damn arrogant, she thought, almost laughing at the situation.

I’m arguing with myself. 

“You are coming with us.” Layla wrapped her arms around the trembling woman.

Helen melted inside, and at once cursed herself for always giving into Layla’s soft commands. “I’m all yours,” she answered.

***

After they settled into the car, Kathryn adjusted the rearview mirror and stared into the eyes of the woman she’d bumped into. The woman glared back at her. “I’m taking you to my condo. If anything goes wrong, I want to be around for it. Head injuries can be tricky.”

“Today is Friday. I am Doctor Helen Wells, born in Indiana. My Social Security number is-”

“Okay, honey, we believe you,” Tasha interrupted. “Think we should commit her, Doc?”

“Very funny,” Kathryn said, watching with unease as Helen laid her head on Layla’s shoulder.

Layla responded by cradling Helen as if to protect her from the ogre in the driver’s seat. Kathryn rubbed her stomach, willing away the knot that had settled there.

“Least she’s quiet now,” Tasha muttered.

“Layla,” Helen said, stroking the girl’s plastic nametag. “Beautiful…name.”

Frowning, Kathryn started the engine and pulled off.

***

“Let me examine you.”

Helen sat on the bed in Kathryn’s guestroom glaring at her hostess.

“Do you need assistance with your clothes?” Kathryn reached for a button, but Helen caught her hand. She stiffened as Kathryn turned over her palm.

“It’s red. So is the other one. Did you injure them during the accident?”

“Young woman, your car barely touched me. I’m fine.” Helen pulled away. “And I won’t undress-not in front of you.”

“Is it because of the club my friend and I visited?”

“You said ‘friend’, but you left with two women.  Which one is your friend?”

“So, you did see us exit the club.” Kathryn dabbed astringent on Helen’s bruises. “I saw you standing under the awning next door. Then you suddenly appear sprawled over the back of my car. Preoccupied, or it was your intention to bring a lawsuit against me?”

“That would be a first.”

“Meaning?”

“Let’s just say I was preoccupied.” She touched Kathryn’s arm, marveling at the smooth texture. “So, getting back to this friend thing-Layla… is she your friend or more?”

“Why?” Kathryn trained her attention on a nasty cut.

She’s evasive as ever, Helen mused. Looking upon her younger self was intriguing, if not disturbing. Like a song sung in the wrong key. The hair, cut in a fashion she didn’t remember ever wearing and the tight lips, marred an otherwise regal face.

“You were very attentive to Layla when you left the club, though your friend Tasha was tilting a bit.”

“Tasha can take care of herself-usually.” Kathryn shined a light in Helen’s gray eyes, causing the woman to pull back. “Does it hurt?”

“My eyes are very sensitive right now.” She gave Kathryn a sidelong glance. “The young woman, Layla-I take it you two are not intimate.”

“You don’t give up,” Kathryn said. “Are you interested?”     

“I’m much too old for her.”

“Perhaps not.” Kathryn felt her hopes for Layla drift away.

“May I come in?”

Kathryn and Helen turned toward the door. “Yes,” they both said, eagerly anticipating Layla’s entrance.

“I brought soup for Doctor Wells.”

“Chicken?” Helen asked.

Layla gave the odorless liquid a dubious look. “The label was missing, but Tasha assured me that it is chicken broth.” Tasha had said “most likely”, but Layla didn’t want to upset the Doctor.

“Maybe you can convince my uncooperative patient to be examined.” Kathryn rose from her seat on the edge of the bed. “I think I’ll make myself scarce for the taste test.” Before leaving them, she added, “Thank you, Layla.”

“It is my pleasure,” Layla responded, but she looked directly into Helen’s eyes.

***

Helen delayed eating, waiting until a spoonful of the soup settled in Layla’s stomach.

“Doctor Wells, there is nothing wrong with the soup.”

Helen leaned back on the soft pillows, gesturing for her to come closer. To be in this room, right now, with Layla close enough to touch…. Helen ran a hand over her short gray hair, wishing for a mirror. She caught herself staring at the spot on Layla’s neck she had caressed so many times, at the ear she’d whispered in when she had taken her to bed. So many years ago, so many…

“Doctor Wells?” 

Helen’s eyes widened. “Oh, yes. Before you serve me that questionable substance, I insist that you call me Helen.”

“Very well. Helen, open your mouth.”

“I’m curious,” Helen gently pushed away the spoon. “What do you carry in that heavy bag of yours?”

“Books.”

“What kind of books?”

“Quantum physics, a medical reference and… Why are you interested in my choice of reading material?”

“It’s not exactly subway reading.” Helen ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “I admire working students.”

“I am not a student, but I do have a proposal for a thesis. Unfortunately, it has been determined by shortsighted academics that my theory is not feasible.  I refuse to revise my work, even if it means more funding. ”

She hasn’t changed one bit, thought Helen. “What is the topic?”

“The effects of reverse time travel.”

“You can go forward-already proven by the Defense Department- but you cannot go back. So either change your proposal, or become a surgeon instead and be done with it.”

“You do not know me. How can you question my ability to become a physicist?”

Helen gently cupped Layla’s face. “Why bother with the headaches?” Her own head ached terribly at this moment.

“I wish to succeed where others have failed.”

“The world can use good surgeons-doctors with a gentle bedside manner.” Helen smiled, watching Layla’s face grow pink under her intense gaze.

 “Was Doctor Reilly gentle?”

“Gentle enough. It’s her roadside manner that stinks.” Helen withdrew her hands. “What’s your opinion of our hostess?”

“She is more a dictator than a doctor.”

“Yet, you were in the Dictator’s car.”

“As was her…companion.”

“Companion? You may be right.” Helen regarded her carefully. “Our Doctor Reilly seems to have an eye for beautiful women.”

“That is not what concerns me at the moment.” Layla touched the bruise on Helen’s forehead. “I have medical training. Sit up.”

“Who’s the dictator now?” But Helen obeyed, leaning into the long fingers that opened her blouse and slipped it from her shoulders. She burned under the touch, though the probing hands were cool on her skin.

“There is a slight bruise under you ribs. Does this hurt?”

“No…no it doesn’t.” Helen managed to squeak out the words. “It’s a birthmark.”

“A birthmark under a bruise.” Layla cast a dubious glance at the red stain. It looked like a four leaf clover with a dagger running through it. Her fingers moved lower. “You have fading bruises as well. Who is responsible for this?”

Helen sat up. She shrugged, hoping to downplay Layla’s alarm.  “It’s all due to clumsiness on my part.”

“I do not believe you. We will address this issue again when you have recovered. ” Layla helped her dress. “What is your specialty, Helen?”

“I am a… physicist.” She watched as Layla’s eyes grew wide with interest. “You have a facility for both disciplines.” Helen paused, her eyes locked with Layla’s. “The key is to focus on your studies.”

“My research is all that interests me.”

“How about romance?”

“Irrelevant.”

“No, it is not. But it can wait until you’re well established...or until you meet someone you can’t live without.”

“Someone like you?” The words slipped unbidden from her tongue, but Layla squared her shoulders, determined not to squirm before the formidable woman. She hesitated. Then said, “My work comes first.”

“Good.” Helen rubbed Layla’s shoulder. “But I think it may come as a disappointment to our hostess.”

“She is attractive and wealthy. What could I possibly offer her?”

Helen chuckled. “Promise me you’ll think about medicine because you’d make a terrible lawyer.”

“I promise. Now finish your meal. I will return on Monday to see how you are progressing.”

A pain, worse than the one in her head, tapped a soft spot in her heart. The girl’s eyes glowed, and Helen knew it wasn’t Kathryn who’d set the spark. “That isn’t possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because I believe my work here is done.”

***

“At last, my love has come along,” Tasha sang the old torch off-key when Layla entered the living room.

“How’s our patient?” Kathryn asked.

“Sleeping, and mentally sound, judging from the amount of soup she consumed.” Layla handed Tasha the empty bowl. Then she extended her hand to Kathryn. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Come on, we were just going to play ‘truth or dare.’  Winner gets Kathryn.”

“Tasha, please.” Kathryn took Layla aside. “I offered you a ride home, remember?”

“The rain has stopped. Besides, you have a patient to attend to.”

 “I doubt she’ll let me near her again tonight.” Kathryn saw by the way Layla grabbed her bag that she wasn’t going to change her mind. “Look, I spoiled your Friday night. Allow me to make it up to you by having lunch tomorrow.”

“I cannot. I have lab work.”

“You’re not ill are you?”

“No, a member I know from the club allows me the use of her lab.” Then she turned to Tasha. “I believe you are acquainted with Professor Allison Trudeau. ”

Tasha jumped out of her seat. “Oh sh-I mean, yeah. Hands off, that babe’s mine.”

“Miss Montero, my relationship with Professor Trudeau is purely professional.” Then to Kathryn,  “I should get going.”

With a trace of disappointment, Kathryn walked Layla to the door. “Let me know if you need help splicing genes.” She smiled then gave Layla her business card.

“Please say goodbye to Helen…Doctor Wells for me. She intends to go home tomorrow, and I will not get the chance to see her before she leaves.”

“Of course.” Kathryn opened the door and waited until Layla disappeared into the elevator.

“That went well.” Tasha pulled Kathryn from the doorway. “Girl doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“Do you have a heart somewhere in that body?”

“Lost it when I threw up in your bathroom.”

“That’s not the half of what’s been lost tonight.”

***

Back To Square One

 My work comes first, she had told Helen. Yet, for the first time in her life, Layla found her own words to be vacuous, weak. And the keen look in Helen’s soulful eyes had confirmed her feelings.

The grating sound of steel pierced the hollow of her heart as the train moved in fits and starts through the dark tunnel. With each lurching stop, she watched passengers depart and board the metal tomb. Two women in particular drew her interest- an older couple unable to hide their affection for each other.

Layla winced at the conductor’s voice crackling over the intercom. Next stop, Astor Place. She stood then grabbed the handrail directly above the couple. Absorbed as she was in the women’s fond words, their surreptitious touches chilled her soul. Winter love-would she live to have the experience? 

The couple looked up, casting wary glances her way. Then the train’s doors screeched open. Hesitant, Layla nodded a silent greeting before departing.

***

Professor Trudeau’s lab was hot and sticky. Even though it was laid out in a loft with all the windows open, the intermittent breeze did nothing to dry the sweat from Layla’s brow, nor did it improve her mood.

Layla pressed the controls again. This cannot be right, she thought, inputting the sequence for the fourth time. On each successive trial, the program ignored the past, pushing her farther into the future.

Maybe Helen was right: why bother with the headaches?

“One more time.” Layla’s fingers flew over the controls.

Then she held a small metal globe encrusted with tiny jewels. She squeezed it hard, leaving small cuts on her palms.

Light flashed. Layla staggered. Dropped to her knees. Sinking. Sinking through the floor.

She landed on someone’s wet lawn, scratching her arm on the low branches of a fir tree. She looked around wild-eyed. The place was unfamiliar, and lamps flickered, their orange light giving the street an eerie glow.

People wearing bedclothes, ran from their homes. They ran toward her. She sought the safety of the tree, moving slowly as if through a bowl of wiggling jelly. No one seemed to notice her.

“Go back to your homes, folks! This is a police investigation.” As a young policeman waved an ambulance into the driveway, Layla crept from her hiding place. She came face to face with the officer, but he looked right through her.

Securing the metal globe in her pocket, she glided through the crowd. A woman lay face down on the front steps. Another stood screaming in the doorway, black hair standing on end. It was Tasha-a little older, slightly heavier, her face marred by tears.

Layla watched a plainclothesman stroll over to the young policemen. The detective puffed on a cigarette, lifting it from his mouth long enough to ask, “She tell you anything before she died?” He pointed to the fallen woman.

“Prowler.” The policeman opened his pad. “He had on a ski mask. Escaped through the back.”

“Damn. That the third break-in we’ve had this week.”

“Swanky neighborhood, boss. Guess hard times make hard people.”

The detective flashed the policeman a look of disgust. “Nothing can excuse that.” He pointed again at the woman on the stairs. His eyes were cold and hard as the medics covered her with a sheet. “She was the best damn scientist in the Country. We’ve got a real mess on our hands.”

Layla peered over the policeman’s shoulder, reading the name of the victim. She backed away, scrambling for the safety of the fir tree.

No one heard her scream.

***

“Scream, moan-say something!” Tasha let out a disgusted sigh.

“What?”

“Your mind has been on that girl all morning-ever since we dropped off Doc Wells.”

“Why do you say that?” Kathryn asked, pouring hot water into a coffeemaker.

“For starters, on the way over to the Marriott, you left your turn signal on for half a mile. Then you left the engine running at the airport. I’m surprised you didn’t put yourself on the plane instead of Helen.” Tasha swept a mound of freshly ground coffee into the sink. “And you missed the pot, honey.”

Kathryn gave up and allowed Tasha to takeover. She moved closer to her friend, gently folding her hands on the counter, thoughts awash with Layla.

Tasha sighed heavily. “Have…have you ever met someone you felt you’ve known forever?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think it is, past life association?”

“I don’t believe in that.” Kathryn continued, warming to the subject, “Maybe it’s a comfort level we respond to. A touch, a glance or even a familiar phrase that reminds us of a time when we were most happy.”

“Are you happy, Kathryn?”

“I thought we were talking about you.”

 The mask went up and the shutters close, yet Tasha persisted. “What if this person could bring back all those warm memories? Give you those feelings again. Would you pursue it?”

“You mean pursue her.” Kathryn gazed out the window. “Yes…I would.”

Layla. Tasha wanted bang her own head against the counter. “Come on, woman. We’ve got a bookworm to hook.”

“I wish you wouldn’t put it that way.”

“Honey,” Tasha wrapped an arm around her, “when we’re finished, Miss Layla’s gonna wonder what hit her.”

***

Layla woke on the hard floor of the loft. She dropped the globe, and brought her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. For an eerie second, she thought she saw Helen standing over her. Then quick as lightning, the image vanished.

“No. No, no…no!”

Layla struggled to stand, then made her way over to the computer. She ran several simulations, removing her death from the equation. Each one resulted in catastrophic events. And each scenario ended with the deaths of Tasha and Kathryn.

“The program’s too small,” she reason. She would need a more powerful system and a bigger lab. And that meant money-money she did not have.

A trickled of blood escaped from her nose, splattering the keyboard. Layla wiped her face, and grabbed the fallen globe.

She held it firmly in her hands, bracing for the flash of light….

***

Kathryn had taken up residence by her office window for two mornings straight, and still no sign of Layla. The girl was supposed to be away only for the weekend, and here it was Wednesday.

“Mornin’, Doc.” Tasha tossed her coat on the rack. Then she sauntered over to Kathryn’s desk, extinguishing the doctor’s cigarette. “If you want to kill yourself with these nasty things, you have to smoke them.”

“You’re late.”

“Our first appointment isn’t until ten. Here’s your brew. Speaking of which, did our coffee maiden turn up yet?”

“No, and I’m worried about her.”

“Can’t have that big dancer-June, I think her name was-showing up with guns blazing.”

Kathryn forced herself to move away from the window. “You’re the only one I know who carries a gun.”

“Hey, it’s me or the other guy. And I’m having too much fun living.”

“Happy hour is over.” Kathryn sighed and checked her watch. “Make sure the session room is in order.”

“Aye, aye Captain. And don’t worry. Maybe the kid found a better job.”

“Perhaps,” Kathryn said, wondering why the “kid” hadn’t bothered to tell her. Then she shook her head at the arrogant thought. Why would Layla feel the need to tell her anything?

***

“It’s about time you turned up.” June, and five other dancers from the Elysian-fondly known as the ‘six-pack’- sat crowded together in Layla’s small apartment.

“Glad you’re back. Now what’s the meeting for,” said one of the dancers, offering Layla a bag of corn chips.

Layla wrinkled her nose, and waved away the snack food. “I have decided to join you.”

June leapt off her seat before the others. “That’s great, baby.”

“But I have certain… conditions.”

“Conditions?” two of the dancers asked.

“Yes. And they must be met, or I refuse to do it.”

“The hell you say.”

“Why should we listen to her?”

June strutted to the center of the room and performed a graceful pirouette. “We listen because of money, darlings, cash money.”

Layla prayed it would be enough money to give her access to a university lab, or buy her a ticket far enough away if her plan failed.

***

Layla sat with June in her apartment after five members of the six-pack had called it a day and went home. She watched, skin tingling, as June turned over Kathryn’s business card.

“Snagged a psych, huh?” June asked.

“No. The accident- ”

“There are no accidents, baby. Besides, you weren’t the one driving.”

“You misunderstand me. The accident triggered a memory.” Layla felt the heat rise to her face, embarrassed by her belief in what June termed otherworldly. “These women are the ones who appear in my…dreams.” 

“But you never see their faces. You got a bad vibe, that’s all. So did I. But not from the brunette-she got a smart-assed mouth, but she’s real looker. The redhead- something’s not quite right about her,” June said, spreading out the cards. “It’s almost like she’s setting you up for something.”

“I am used to women…well….” Layla turned over a card: Death. Then she pushed it away. “I feel I know Doctor Wells. I can’t explain it, but she was in the lab, then she disappeared.”

“She the one who gave you the bloody nose? ‘Cause if she did, I’ll-”

“The nose bleed was related to my work,” Layla said hastily.

“Work. So that’s why you decided to join us. Layla, fooling with the past is bad juju.”

“No more dangerous than what you do.”

“I see things, I feel things-what I do keeps me alive. And your trolling around after dark in that neighborhood ain’t my idea of staying alive.”

“The lab is free,” Layla added, thinking nothing walking on two legs could do her any harm. “Professor Trudeau-”

“Ain’t no such thing as free, besides how much do you know about Trudeau anyway?” June held up a card. “I see romance.” She laughed. “You should tell Doctor Reilly about your dreams.”

“No.” The thought of lying with soul-bared under Kathryn’s steely gaze froze Layla’s blood.

“Well, you won’t let me give you a reading.” June thumped the pack of tarot cards lying between them on the table. “And I have a feeling that her services will be free…somewhat.”

***

“This ‘talking it out’ bull, is messing up everything.”

“How so?” Kathryn sat in the session room, allowing her clients to vent their frustrations.

The more sullen half of the estranged couple glared at Kathryn. “Jenny hasn’t touched me in days.”

“That’s not fair. If he stopped running around like a bitch in heat, he would know how important is for us to come here. ”

“Damn it. If she loved me-”

Kathryn held up her hand. “Remember the rules: no attacking. And express your feelings to each other-not to me.” She watched closely as the couple leaned back into the comfortable couch. Both crossed their arms and legs, mouths snapped shut in defiance.  “I want you to tell each other how you feel. Robert, you go first.”

“Who says you can only love one person at a time?” Robert asked, ignoring his partner’s look of disgust.

“Like it takes five women to satisfy your butt.”

“Sometimes, it does.” He smirked. “At least I’m not selfish, right Doctor?”

Kathryn kept her mouth closed, encouraging the couple to hash it out.

Robert refused to take the hint. “Would you throw away your freedom, Doctor Reilly? No way.”

Throw away your freedom. If it meant loving Layla, she’d gladly wear leg irons.

Kathryn touched the letter Doctor Wells had sent to her for Layla. Then she stared at the young couple. It would take some work to teach them how to communicate with other, but she couldn’t teach them about the one thing that eluded her: Love.

Kathryn pushed the letter to the corner of her desk, and waived her hand for the couple to continue.

***

Change

Kathryn entered the upstairs hall of the Elysian just as the lights went down.

“Hey, Doc. Over here”

Kathryn took a second, letting her eyes adjust to the candlelight. Then she spotted Tasha sitting with her ‘sugar mama’.

“About time you showed up.” Making room, Tasha slid closer to her sugar. “Sit next to me.”

Kathryn self-consciously ran her hands over her clothes. She felt ridiculous in the tight leather pants and vest. But, she had to admit it felt good when most of the other patrons stopped their conversations to give her the once over.

“Looks good on ya, honey. Doesn’t it, Allison?”

“Very much so. I’m Allison Trudeau,” she said, reaching past Tasha to press Kathryn’s hand. “I didn’t figure you for this type of entertainment, Doctor Reilly,”

Kathryn found Trudeau’s touch disturbing, much like the ice in her green eyes. And the way she said her own name, as if it were suppose to mean something. If Trudeau knew Tasha, Kathryn thought, she’d realize that her assistant only dropped the names of women who had slept in her bed.

“Kathryn appreciates the curve of a leg like anyone else,” said Tasha.

“Actually,” Kathryn said, wondering why they were jammed into one side of the booth, “I have a letter for Layla. The owner said she was working up here tonight.”

“Layla? I don’t think so. But I can see that she gets the letter.” Trudeau put out her hand.

“I prefer to give it to her myself.”

“It’s no problem. I know where she lives.” Trudeau grinned, making Kathryn squirm under the naked look in her vibrant eyes.

“Hey,” Tasha said, “maybe she’s working the dressing room-you know- powdering their boobs.”

Kathryn was saved from answering either woman when most of the crowd started tapping their glasses with tiny silver spoons. Others raised multi-colored candles in the air.

“That means the show’s about to begin.” Tasha handed Kathryn her spoon.

Black curtains parted. The dancers, glowing beneath blue light, their backs to the audience, wore glittering skintight suits. The lead dancer-Kathryn recognized as June-shimmered in red, the others smoldered in black.

The dancers moved with measured grace to classical notes.

“What the hell-” Tasha spilled her drink in Trudeau’s lap. “Sorry, hon. But this bites.”

The rest of the patrons seem befuddled as well. Where were the tassels, and how were they going to get out of their clothes? But Kathryn sat with her chin cupped in her hands, intrigued by the unusual opening.

The tempo changed, and the dancers gyrated to the sultry music. Turning slowly, bodies liquid, they faced an audience gone mad with lust, but restrained by the precision of their movements.

Kathryn lit up a smoke, eyes never leaving the stage.

“Sweet Jesus.” Tasha absentmindedly took the cigarette from Kathryn’s mouth, and stubbed it out. “Isn’t that-”

“It certainly is.” Trudeau’s sultry voice assaulted Kathryn’s ears. “You have your wish, Doctor Reilly.”

Kathryn stared at both women, wondering what demented god saw fit to unite them. Trudeau, cold and unyielding, threw money and drinks Tasha’s way, but appeared not to care much for her company. And Tasha, blissful as ever, could care less.

The music grew louder, and the tempo picked up. Kathryn scanned the dancers, admiring how their sleek bodies moved in unison to the complex harmony.

Layla.

Kathryn leaned forward, fingers drumming the tabletop, recognition sharpening her gaze.

***

Layla swayed to the throbbing beat, brushing against June. As rest of the dancers receded into the background, June moved behind Layla, gripping the girl’s hips.

The spotlight hit them, and momentarily thrown by the change in routine, Layla gasped.  

The crowd, taking Layla’s sharp reaction for desire, spilled into the aisles.

“Work with me, baby.” June’s mouth close to her ear sent a strange buzz down Layla’s back. She obeyed, going with June’s guiding hands. Layla slowly raised her arms, and June cupped the outside of her breasts, then proceeded to trailed her hands over the lush curves of Layla’s swaying body.

“Lay-la.” Tasha sang at the top of her lungs.

Others joined and clapped, forcing Layla’s gaze to Tasha’s table. And next to her sat…Kathryn.  Layla shifted her gaze to the exit sign, escaping Kathryn’s amazed stare. She focused on the red letters. It will be over soon, she thought.

The performance continued a minute more. Then dancers gracefully descended the stage, each taking a stunned customer into their arms for a slow turn.

Tasha jumped up from her seat, getting in line to wait her turn.

Tips overflowed from bowls discretely placed on glass tables flanking burgundy walls. The bartenders did double duty, and the hapless dancers literally had their hands full. Layla is behind this, Kathryn thought. She’s smart enough to know what these women want: Worshipful lust. “But does she know what I want?” she whispered.

“Are you going to give it a go?” Trudeau asked.

“I’d love to, but…” Kathryn cringed at the thought of Layla viewing her as just another besotted patron.  “Too hot for me. Let her know I’m waiting downstairs in the coffee club.”

Tasha spied Kathryn on her way down, and yelled, “Party pooper!”

***

Freshly showered and dressed, her body trembling from exertion, Layla rushed downstairs and entered the coffee bar. Relieved, she found Kathryn seated alone at a corner table with her back to the entrance.

The unexpected death vision, and the prospect of a future where she would be intimately linked to Tasha had made the last few days hellish. And Tasha’s drunken flirting during their dance upstairs was equally stressful.

Maybe the vision was wrong. It has to be, she thought.

“You waited,” Layla said before taking a seat.

Kathryn smiled, and sipped her coffee before speaking. “The owner is a genius; coffee, chat rooms, bar, and now this…a stunning class act. You seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.”

“It means better pay.”

Layla looked directly into Kathryn’s gray eyes, wondering if this woman would agree to answer her questions about Tasha. According to the age listed on the police report, Layla reasoned that she had ten more years to live.  How would those years pass between them? Would they spend her last days in sweet abandon, or analyze one another’s ticks and flaws? She couldn’t imagine doing this with Tasha. Layla felt her throat close, and delicately rubbed her neck. 

“Can I get you anything?” asked Kathryn, concern etched on her face.

“No. Allison said you wanted to see me?”

“Right to the point. Is Allison a close friend?”

“No.”  

“She seems to get on well with Tasha.”

Layla did not respond.

“I have something for you.” Kathryn slid Helen’s letter across the table. “Your admirers are gathering at the door. We’ll probably need Security to get you out untouched.”

Layla ignored the women’s stares, and held the unsealed envelop to her chest. “You read it?”

“Of course not-it was inside a box.”

“Then…”

“It was addressed to me.” Kathryn signaled to a waitress, breaking the tension. The girl had no awareness of her affect upon others, and this drew Kathryn even closer. “We need some food in our stomachs. Grilled chicken or burgers?”

“If this is a date…” Layla faltered, eyeing the leather hugging Kathryn’s small frame. 

Kathryn raised an eyebrow then gave the waitress orders for chicken. Appropriate selection, she thought. “Aren’t you going to read the letter? It must be very important since a courier dropped it off.”

Layla withdrew the letter, silently reading the bold script:

Layla,

 I grow tired of dull conferences and endless lectures. Before we met, life seemed little more than traveling from point A to point B. Alas, a break in routine. I’ll call on you soon, until then, guard your heart.

Yours,

 H.

Flushed with anticipation, panic, like the tease of a finger grazing her neck, Layla hastily stowed the letter away in her tote bag.

Kathryn peered inside. “Heavy reading. Do the books have anything to do with your lab work?”

“Somewhat.” Layla looked away.

“How so?”

“My work is too complex for…table talk.”

“Is that what this is, table talk? Then it’s a good thing we’re not on a date.” Kathryn smirked. “Tell me about your research, Layla.”

 “You would not take it seriously.”

“I take you seriously.”

“Even my performance?” The thought of doing anything half-assed, even dancing, bothered Layla to no end.

The waitress interrupted, placing their orders on the table along with cup of cocoa for Layla. Then Kathryn said, “You were wonderful. But I must confess that I’m more interested in what you’re doing with those books. You see my undergrad was in Physics.”

Layla’s full lips parted in surprise. This woman wanted to feed her, give her a cup of hot cocoa, and actually cared to learn the inner workings of her mind.

She dug out a worn copy of her thesis and handed it to Kathryn. Her heart pounded, and she held her breath.

“Interesting.” Kathryn flipped the cover. “I’d like to read it. Do you mind if I hold onto it for a while?”

Layla nodded, sipped her cocoa, burning her tongue as Kathryn began to talk about quantum mechanics. All questions of Tasha faded away.

*** 

May I walk you to your door?” Kathryn asked, draping her bare arm along the front seat of her car. The movement caused her vest to open wider, giving Layla a generous view of her bosom.

Layla swallowed hard, her gaze sliding toward the safety of her apartment building. After their intense conversation in the club, she now sat next to Kathryn like a trapped fox. She found the woman beautiful, but definitely off-limits due to the increasingly violent dreams she had every night.

“I live on the first floor.” Layla went on,” Besides, this is not a date.”

“Only your dates may escort you inside?”

“I do not…”

“All right, then. What time should I take you to the lab?

“You…you want to help me?”

“Yes.” Kathryn gave Layla a generous smile.

Layla leaned forward and whispered a quiet ‘thank you’ in her ear. Then she unlocked the door, and was on the front steps before Kathryn opened her eyes.

***

Kathryn had left the SUV home, opting for the comfort of her blue Mercedes. But comfort became a knot of panic in her belly when she saw the reaction on Layla’s face as the young woman descended the steps of her apartment building.

“This is…impressive.” Layla settled into the buttery leather seat.

“A one time indulgence,” Kathryn said, turning to her. “I didn’t always have an easy life. I started out pretty much like you-moving away from family and friends.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Know? You just told me.” 

“You must think I am naive.”

“Hardly.”  Kathryn pushed a wrapped package toward Layla.

“What is this?”

“Open it.” Kathryn kept her eyes on the road, but from the tiny gasp, she knew Layla appreciated the journal. “It’s a place to keep your thoughts.

“Thank you,” Layla said quietly.

“My pleasure. Now let’s get something to eat.”

“I could make breakfast for us,” Layla offered shyly.

“We can save that for our next non-date.” Kathryn winked, feeling more confident than ever with her stunning bookworm.

***

“Insanity-that is how the world of Academia regards my work, all except Professor Trudeau.” Layla said.

“Does she help you with your work?”

“No, she is afraid she will interfere. But, you do not,” Layla added quickly. “Thank you for being here.”

“Anything for science. “Kathryn looked up, smiling crookedly. “Or a pretty girl.” Then she laughed at the grimace on Layla’s face.

This was the third week of analysis for them. They ran simulation after simulation, yet Layla would not divulge what she had experienced. An actual test run would shed light on the problem, but exposing Kathryn to the danger involved was unacceptable to Layla.

She regarded Kathryn lying on the floor of the lab, correcting printouts. Red ink flowed like blood, crossing out a formula here, modifying one there. Like a child at play, Kathryn was in her element: tee shirt riding up, hair mussed, and the knuckle of a thumb pressed to her lips. Pure concentration. Beautiful. But Layla suppressed the thought, recalling Helen’s brief but heartfelt letter.

“Your work is extraordinary.” Kathryn invited Layla to join her on the floor.  “There are just a few minor changes; I think they will help with your theory for the past.”

Layla wanted to tell her that she surpassed the theory stage with one kink left to figure out. But the thought of winding up on Kathryn’s couch for consultation was unappealing, “Helen…Doctor Wells, is a physicist, but she lacks the vision to believe in my thesis.”

“Oh?” Kathryn rolled onto her back, playfully tugging a lock of Layla’s hair. “Is that what she said in her letter?”

Layla studied the hardwood floor as if seeing it for the first time. “She told me not to bother with the headaches.”

“Does your head hurt now?” Kathryn continued to caress Layla’s hair.

“Not with you here.” Layla almost smiled. The joy Kathryn brought to their lab sessions gave her an unexpected chill. Yet today, Kathryn seemed tired, as if she hadn’t slept in weeks. “We should finish up.”

“I’m ready for another go.”

As Kathryn started the simulation, a cable broke lose, snaking under the door of the utility closet. Sparks flew and noise filled the air like popping corn.

Layla instinctively made a grab for the cable.

“Don’t touch it!” Kathryn shut down the computers. Then she gingerly opened the closet door. Acrid smoke filled the room as the cable jumped and spent the last of the flowing electricity.

“Close the door.” Layla coughed. She went to the left side of the room and threw open the windows. “We should leave.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Kathryn reached out to soothe Layla’s hacking cough, though the girl seemed more embarrassed than hurt.

Layla’s gathered up their research. “I should cook for you tonight,” she said, blushing slightly. 

“I would love that, but we’re having paella.” Kathryn yawned and stretched her small body. “If we pack up now, we can make it to Tasha’s by eight.” 

“I…she…are you lovers?” Layla swallowed, hardly believing she’d ask the question. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, leaving an imprint of her palms on the floor.

“That’s quite a question.”

“What I mean is, I would not want to be in the way.”

“It’s all right,” Kathryn said quietly. “Tasha’s my medical assistant-when she wants to be. A friend always… and she’s an outrageous flirt.”

Layla searched Kathryn’s eyes, seeking an answer for the hint of warning in her tone. But she found nothing within those gray depths, other than a twinkling mischief.

Kathryn took a crumpled pack of cigarettes from her pocket. “Don’t worry, I won’t do it here,” she said, laughing at Layla’s expression.

***

Kathryn leaned on her car puffing away like a steam engine. Layla stood in front of her, hands clasped behind her back, feet frozen to the concrete. “Cigarettes will kill you.”

“I think your need for perfection will take me out first.”

Layla bristled. “There is an anomaly we have not accounted for.”

“No, the numbers are correct. If you would stopped being so stubborn, you could write your ticket to any university in the world.”

“If you believe I’m so…stubborn, then why do you insist on helping me?”

“Why?” Kathryn, careful to blow the smoke in the opposite direction, patted a spot on the car for Layla to lean beside her. “Because I like the sound of Doctor St. James.”  She casually draped an arm around the girl, and held her breath for a second, then added, “Because I care…very much for Layla St. James.”

The two continued to talk in hushed tones.

Helen, standing in the mouth of the adjoining alley, strained to hear their soft words. “This is not the way it happened,’ she said, unable to comprehend how relaxed her younger self was with the beautiful girl. As she recalled, it had taken Layla years to share her work, as it had taken Kathryn years to confess her burning need for the young woman.

“This isn’t right.”

“Yes, I agree.”

The sharp words, a metallic hiss in Helen’s ear, caused her to yelp. As she was about to turn, a hand clamped over her mouth, and the barrel of a gun was shoved against her cheek.

“Yell and I’ll kill you.” The woman removed her hand. “I’ve done it before. And I have no problem doing it again.”

Electronics, Helen thought, disguising her voice. “What do you want?” Helen’s heart pumped furiously against the walls of her chest. She brought her hand to her throat, loosening her collar.

“Oh, no, no, no.” The woman slammed Helen’s head against the brick wall. “We’ll wait here until those two leave.”

The woman pushed her forward enough to see Layla withdraw the cigarette from Kathryn’s lips. Layla made a comment, and Kathryn’s throaty laugh stung Helen’s ears. Her stomach tightened, panic flooding her veins as Kathryn boldly took the girl in her arms.

Layla backed out of the embrace, and moved away from the car. “Tasha is expecting us.”

Helen heard Kathryn’s frustrated sigh.

They got into the car. As Kathryn pulled away, Helen turned to face her hooded attacker. Baleful green eyes latched onto hers.

“What…what do you want?”

“To preserve this timeline.” The woman opened Helen’s blouse and ripped the chain from her neck, smashing the precious timepiece against the wall. Shards of crystal rained between them.

“You fool!”

“Move, Doctor Wells, before I shoot you.”

“And let her die a senseless death!”

“That is a flawed supposition, Doctor.”

“No!”

Helen struggled with the woman. The gun clattered to the ground. Both women dropped, fighting for control over the weapon.

The gun went off, its blast echoing along the dark street.

***

Paella and Wine…

Tasha’s modest home was as conservative as she was flamboyant; cream colored walls, family portraits on the mantelpiece, art prints, TV tastefully tucked away in a cabinet-soft light and middle class nirvana. Yet, Layla felt uneasy at the table, her skin tingling with the onslaught of anxiety.

Tasha served up steaming paella, and glasses of chilled wine. They clinked their glasses in a silent toast. And Layla’s gaze settled on the fourth place setting.

Tasha smiled, anticipating the question in her eyes. “My date’s running a bit late. She suggested we start without her.”

“Your date?” Layla asked. Relieved, she leaned closer to Kathryn, though still feeling the unsettling effects of their smoky embrace outside the loft.

“So, what have you two been up to?” Tasha asked, spearing a succulent shrimp.

Layla flushed, and Kathryn reached beneath the table, taking her hand. “Playing with live wires?” she offered.

“Is that the new term for it?” Tasha, leaving both guests red-face, went to answer the doorbell.

“More wine?” Kathryn asked, squirming in her seat.

“No.” Layla covered her glass. “You are in need of another cigarette.”

“I am not.” Kathryn sat up straight. “Who do you think our guest is?”

“Professor?” Layla rose to greet the woman.

“Sorry I’m late.” Professor Allison Trudeau allowed Tasha to pull out her chair. “Last minute emergency. Now, what’s the topic of discussion?”

“Temporal something or other.” Tasha tried to plant a kiss on her lips, but Allison turned slightly, offering her cheek. “Um, Kathryn and Layla are up to some scientific mumbo jumbo.”

“You…you are working together now?” Allison laid her fork on her dish. “Did Layla take you through the-”

“You two are dating?” Layla interrupted.

“You could call it that,” Tasha said, loading up Allison’s plate. “Not like your rocket science fantasies.”

“There was a time when people laughed at Galileo.” Kathryn winked at Tasha.

Allison’s eyes narrowed, anger evident on her face. “There was also a time when they locked up scientists, or burned them.”

“To heretics!” Tasha raised her glass. Kathryn and Layla joined the toast, leaving Allison to watch them in stony silence.

***

The halls of the Daleview Institution reeked of disinfectant hastily thrown down to remove the stench of urine and stale sweat from the air. Wretched voices droned in discordant song. Others screamed in pain from their tortured existence.

Helen woke, strapped to a gurney in a bile-green room. Her head throbbed with each piercing wail.

Trapped. Helen called out, her voice joining the others in the bowels of hell: “Layla! Layla!”

“Hold her down!” A young resident, lean of face, snarled at a brooding male nurse. “There,” he said, pumping a sedative into Helen’s burning arm. “Now clean her up.”

“Untie me, damn it!”

“It’s all right,” said the nurse, glaring at the retreating resident’s back. “Please be quiet, or he’ll just give you more.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t belong here!” Helen struggled on the strange bed, straining against the leather straps.

The nurse bent over her, trying to soothe her brow with a damp cloth. “Please, Doctor Wells,” he said, “you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Tim?” Helen read the young man’s nametag. Then she focused on his care worn face. “Tim, who examined me?”

“Um, a Doctor Sagan…Carlotta, I think. Why?”

Sagan. Helen laughed at the absurdity of it. “Push up my sleeve-the left.”

Tim complied, no more willing to disobey the distraught woman than his own mother. “Jeez, what is this?” He examined the burn on Helen’s arm.

“Bullet-it grazed my arm.”

“No one said anything about a-”

“Precisely.” Helen tried not to smile as Tim removed the restraints. “Do you know who brought me here?”

“You’re not going to like this, Doctor Wells.”

“I’m sure I won’t,” Helen replied, rubbing a sore wrist. “Neither will your lawyers.”

Tim swallowed hard. “So, I guess I should…um, get the Chief of Staff.”

“Wrong guess.” Helen leveled her gray eyes on the flustered nurse. The sedative kicked in, working it’s way though her exhausted system. “Untie… me… first.” 

***

After leaving Tasha’s home, Kathryn had indulged Layla’s request to drive her Mercedes. Now, they were parked in front of Layla’s apartment with the engine running.

Kathryn reached over and turned it off.  “Guess I’ll take it from here.”

“You are in no condition to drive home.”

“I’ll need my car tomorrow, so…” Kathryn paused and rubbed her face. “I must be coming down with something-and no, it’s not that third glass of wine.”

“Three and one half, if you count mine.” Layla stared out the window, focusing on a group of kids scurrying down the street. “You can stay with me…here, tonight. It is late…and….”

“I’ll take the couch,” Kathryn said, leaning her weary head on Layla’s shoulder. “And I promise to sleep like a baby.”

***

Kathryn slept, lightly snoring in Layla’s bed, while Layla tossed on the stiff couch in the living room. She turned on her back listening to the steady rhythm of the radiator, its steam warming the room, lulling her to sleep. Slowly…slowly she drifted away….

“Take my hand!” A cloaked woman hovered over her prone body.

I cannot see. So dark, she thought, feeling her throat close. Layla began to scream as the woman pulled her from the smoking wreckage.

“Come with me, Layla.” 

“No.  Kathryn!  Where are you?

“I am Kathryn,” the woman murmured, features forming into a bloody smile and hollow eyes.

Flames jumped high; smoke rose, black and thick, obscuring the morning light….

Layla bolted from the couch, clutching her throat. She reached for a lamp, and then realized turning on the lights would wake Kathryn. So, with a shaky hand, she felt along the walls, bumping into a chair before entering the bathroom.

Her eyes were red, face drawn and chalky in the cloudy mirror. Layla splashed her face, and then bent under the faucet, cool water sliding down her parched throat.

The dreams were coming, closer together, haunting her nights, drawing her deeper into a frightening future. “Dear, God,” Layla groaned and entered the narrow hallway, stopping before the open bedroom door. “I will not take you with me,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Kathryn was safe, snoring, tangled in the sheets. Layla quietly approached, covering her sleeping friend. Exhausted, she sat on the bed, daring to brush her hand over Kathryn’s fine hair.

Kathryn smiled, though didn’t wake. Sleep of the wicked, Layla mused, resting her hand on Kathryn’s shoulder, and stifling a yawn.

***

Past Imperfect

Ring! Ring!

“What!” Kathryn rolled over in the bed, half landing atop Layla, a hand tangled in the young woman’s hair.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Layla woke up confused, her face bright red. She tried to extricate herself from Kathryn’s sleepy embrace.

“You really should have got me up for this.” Kathryn teased her, delighting in Layla’s stunned expression. “Guess I’ll answer it.” Kathryn deliberately crawled forward, using Layla as leverage to reach her bag.

The ringing stopped.

“Missed it.” Kathryn gazed into Layla’s wide blue eyes and trailed a finger down her cheek, settling on her soft lips. “You are so beautiful.” She kissed the hollow of Layla’s neck, detecting the scent of jasmine on her creamy skin.

“Please…stop.” Layla gently nudged Kathryn’s shoulder. “You must not…become…involved… with me.”

“Why? Are you a spy? A gun runner?”

“That is not amusing, Kathryn.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I…we should get going. You have work, and-”

“I don’t have any appointments this morning.” Kathryn’s keen gaze sought Layla’s, and she witnessed the trapped fox rearing its head. “Why do you pull away each time I get close to you?” 

“I had a bad dream last night; I did not mean for you think I wanted….” Layla’s face colored.

“Layla, there are different kinds of intimacy.” Kathryn gently took the girl’s face in her hands. “And you wanted something last night, or you wouldn’t be in bed with me.”

 “Intimacy is not what I fear.”

But Kathryn saw the dread in Layla’s eyes- the ghosts dancing in her head. Was she merely frightened, or embarrassed by displaying a basic human need? Kathryn’s voice softened. “Tell me about the dream.”

Layla refused.

“Let me guess: a nightmare fueled by a burning cable, and belly full of paella.” Kathryn curled a lock of Layla’s hair around her finger.

“You were in my dream, and all the others…even before I met you.”

“You saw me-my face-in your dreams?” Kathryn asked, convinced the girl was putting her on. But the smile tugging at her lips quickly faded as moisture gathered in Layla’s eyes. “It doesn’t mean that it will come true.”

“But you were injured.” Layla hugged her knees to her chest. “And I was the cause of it.”

“So, getting involved with you would be dangerous?”

When Layla nodded, Kathryn rubbed her throbbing temples. “If I didn’t feel like crap, I’d convince you otherwise.”

“Do not attempt to do so.”

Kathryn sighed. Then she retrieved her cell phone, and rolled back under the covers. Her jaw dropped as she read the first message. “My, God.”

“Who…who is it?” 

“I don’t know, but a nurse wants you to pick up your grandmother from Daleview.”

“My what?” Layla sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She didn’t know which was more unbelievable: Falling asleep in Kathryn’s arms, or a granny she’d never met. “Daleview? It is an insane asylum, right?”

“A psychiatric institution.” Kathryn scrolled to the bottom of the message. “And, according to Nurse Tim, Helen raised hell all night long. I wonder how he got my number.”

“Who would do such a horrible thing?”

“I don’t know. And it doesn’t make sense because I put her on a plane bound for San Francisco.”

Layla got out of bed. “I must help her.”

“I’ll go with you,” Kathryn offered. “Maybe later we can have dinner?”

But Layla had disappeared from the room, leaving Kathryn’s question unanswered.

***

“So, how did you manage to snag a room in Daleview?” Kathryn slammed on the breaks, screeching to a stop at a red light. “That’s quite a change from the Marriott.”

“Obviously, I have an enemy or two.” Helen moved closer to Layla in the back seat of the car. “Or do you think I tied myself up? Own a rope, Doctor?”

“That’s not a very funny joke, Helen,” Kathryn replied.

“Who’s joking?”

“Kathryn was with me last night.” Layla said quietly.

“All night?” Helen sighed when Layla shyly nodded and looked away. Then she glared at the back of Kathryn’s head, sending fiery sparks with her steely eyes. “I was attacked-whoever did it, shot me up with some drug. I never saw her face.”

“And the staff?” Kathryn asked, peering into the rearview mirror, not at all caring for how close the women sat. “Did they see anyone?”

“Night shift-lazy as hell. But, I can’t worry about that now. I need to get home.”

“We will take you home,” Layla said.

“Do you have a pair of ruby slippers in your purse?” Despite her misfortune, Helen smiled weakly and pulled Layla to her bosom.

***

“I thought we were here for takeout,” Layla said. They sat in a booth at one of the upscale restaurants across the street from Kathryn’s condo. Layla stretched her long legs, accidentally entangling them with Kathryn’s. She quickly sat up straight.

“The takeout’s for Helen.” Kathryn relished her early morning meal of bacon and eggs while Layla sat stony-face before an icy glass of grapefruit juice.

“Do you think it wise-leaving her alone?” 

“After the night she’s had, a long sleep will do her good. Besides, we can’t continue our earlier conversation with her present,” Kathryn paused. “Now where was I? Oh yes: seducing you into leaving your girlfriend.”

“There is no girlfriend.” 

“Then I really am the woman of your dreams, or your worst nightmare?” Kathryn winked. “Layla, say something before my ego crawls under the table.”

“Would I have slept beside you if that were true?”

“Stranger things have been known to happen.” Kathryn dangled a strip of bacon under Layla’s nose.   “Have some. I wouldn’t want your friends to think I’m a cheapskate.”

“Your reputation is safe; I do not have many friends.”

Kathryn took a sip of her coffee and eyed the young beauty over her cup. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

“A date, perhaps?”

“I thought this was a date.” Then a playful grin split her face, underscoring the silence in the eatery. “Order something-I owe you that much for sleeping with me.”

“We did not…” Layla squirmed in the tight booth; her face checked red and white, complementing the tablecloth. Gasps from an older group of diners seated at the next table, deepened the rose of her cheeks. She let out a frustrated sigh and signaled a waiter.

“Egg white omelet, please.”

“Ma’am, would you like that with coffee or-”

“Omelet?” one of the elders interrupted. Leaning forward, he gently touched Layla’s tense shoulder. “You should make her buy you a champagne breakfast.”

“Harold!” scolded a member of the group. “Honestly!” said another.

“See, you do have friends.” Smiling wickedly, Kathryn raised her coffee cup. “And they want you to eat a decent breakfast too.”

“Waiter, please add a bottle of your best champagne to Doctor Reilly’s bill.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

***

Back at the condo…

“My keys…this is for the security door,” Layla said, “and the other-”

“Got it.” Kathryn squeezed Layla’s hand. “There’s plenty in the fridge, and I’ll pick up your things after work. Oh, you can give Helen the bottle of champagne you ordered.”

Layla ignored the comment. “Helen can stay with me. You should not go to so much trouble.”

“I insist. Besides, I have more room…and you won’t have to sleep on the couch. I mean-”

“I know.” Layla stared at the floor.

“Well, ladies, Helen is awake, and hearing all of this. Now that everything is settled,” Helen gently ushered Kathryn out the door, “we’ll be fine,” she said before closing it. 

***

“Would you like to rest before lunch?” Layla asked.

“I’m taking you away from your work. Now, if you would give me the key to your laboratory-”

“How do you know about the lab?” Layla backed away, her blood growing icy. She stared at the woman standing before her. Why didn’t she see it before: the sculpted features, piercing gray eyes, rueful grin…. “It can’t be.” She stumbled, dropping into a chair. “How?”

Helen removed Layla’s coat, then lit one of the cigarettes Kathryn had left behind. “Take a good look at me, Layla. It’s amazing how people cannot-will not see what’s right in front of them.”

“But how? It is not possible.”

“Isn’t it? You of all people should know.” Helen knelt before her, leaning into Layla’s curious hands. “It’s so good to see you again, love. To touch you.” She laid her head in Layla’s lap.

Layla took the cigarette, stubbing it out in one of Kathryn’s many ashtrays. “You-you never broke the habit.” Her voice caught, and she felt the need to restore normalcy to her tilting world. “We must work on that.”

“I haven’t had one of those things in years.”

“What happened to…to us? How…why did you come here?” Though she knew the answer, Layla needed to hear it from Helen. She needed to know it was true.

“Didn’t you read my letter?” Helen looked up at Layla, tears forming in her eyes. “I came for you.”

***

“Bye-bye, June. See you Tuesday, honey.” Tasha hung up the phone, and rounded her desk, then handed her boss a cup of steaming coffee.

“How many women are you dating?” Kathryn grabbed the cup, warming her hands on the plastic. “I thought you learned your lesson.”

“Doc, if I could afford one of your sessions, I still wouldn’t do it. Now tell me what’s with the dour look?”

“I fished Wells out of Daleview at seven in the morning.”

“No way,” Tasha’s eyes lit up, and she plopped on top of her desk, legs swinging like a kid. “What did she do to get locked up in there? Told ya she was insane.”

“Please don’t use that word.”

“Come on, give it up.”

Tasha’s eyes grew wider as Kathryn conveyed the few details Helen had bothered to impart.

“I need a cold tablet. I feel a wreck.”

“Back up a bit.” Tasha frowned. “You woke up next to Layla?”

“Did you hear anything I’ve said to you? Someone is out to get Wells, but why?” Kathryn rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m dying here.”

“Okay, okay.” Tasha tore open a couple of Cold tabs and dumped them in Kathryn’s coffee. “They dissolve faster this way. Now, where were we?”

“Canceling my first appointment.”

“They canceled for you. Must be a nasty bug going around. But it’s done wonders for you.” Tasha looked at her friend; never one to be confident with women, this new Kathryn puzzled her. “Since you’re so taken with her, I guess that means hands off Lay-la.”

“That means hands off period. She’s… innocent.” Kathryn smiled sadly, wondering why she was becoming so aggressive with Layla. “Little more than a child.”

“Mm-hmm. And you left the child alone with Doc Wells?”

“Really, Tasha. Wells is old enough to be her-” 

“Her honey. Have you seen those legs? Oh, mama!”

Kathryn shrugged. She didn’t want to see anything as far as Helen Wells was concerned. The woman had a disturbing presence, an infinite arrogance. What could Layla possibly see in her?

“Let’s get to work,” Kathryn said, closing her office door. She picked up the phone and dialed home.

Tasha spied the number lighting up at her desk, and felt a knot curl in her stomach. “You’re not the only one who’s got it bad, honey.”

***

“Layla?”

“Hello? Thank you, Helen. Oh no, Kathryn. I just needed a towel. Yes, she is here. Would you like to speak with her?”

“No.” Kathryn held the receiver down for a second. “Why do you need a towel?”

“Shower. Helen has some…business to take care of, so we will be unavailable for a while.”

“Business?” Kathryn drummed her fingers on the desk. “Are we still having dinner tonight?”

“Oh…yes, of course. Is six okay? Helen needs her rest.”

“Fine. I’ll see you then.” Kathryn hung up, more unnerved than ever by Helen’s presence.

***

“Here’s a robe for you. It’s a bit short but-” Helen turned away as Layla dropped her towel.

“It is all right, Helen,” Layla whispered, surprised that the words had actually left her mouth.  Strange, she thought, feeling more at ease with Helen than anyone else in her life. Layla turned Helen in her arms, holding her gently. “Please stay.”

Helen rubbed Layla’s back, feeling the cool skin beneath her fingers. “You’ll freeze,” she said, draping Kathryn’s robe around the girl’s damp body. Then, slowly, Helen released her.

Layla touch her forehead to Helen’s. “I will not be a part of your future. Am I right?”

Helen pulled away, the horror of Layla’s words scorching her like heated bricks. “You know.”

“Yes. But there is something we can do about that.” Layla removed her robe, allowing it to fall to the floor. She caught a glimpse of adoration, and longing in Helen eyes.   

***

After canceling the rest of her appointments, Kathryn made her way to Layla’s apartment and selected clothes from the closet and dresser in her small bedroom. As she packed a few undergarments, she realized that Layla had nothing remotely like silky lingerie, or teasing midriffs. Her clothes were sporty, Spartan-starving student chic. Layla sank what little reserves she had into books, and surprisingly, music.

“Books.” They had left a few of Layla’s more interesting texts at the lab. And tired as she was, Kathryn locked the door, and headed for the old loft.

Kathryn shivered inside the drafty loft. She put Layla’s things on the floor, and slowly walked over to a bolted utility closet. She didn’t recall either of them leaving the light on. She grabbed a heavy flashlight from the worktable, wondering how effective it would be against a burglar.

Kathryn pulled the door back, shielding her eyes from a strange pink and blue glow. She looked up at the light bulb; cracked, battered, as if someone had taken a broom handle to it. No light source. Yet, the swirling colors emanated form somewhere, or something.

Her hand tingled, touching the light. It has mass. The light curled, tightening on her hand, moving over her elbow. Sucking her in….

***

Kathryn woke in a grove heavy with dew-slicked grapes and raspberries. Whitewashed trellises held their weight, blocking the sun from view. A chain link fence surrounded the entire grove with razor-sharp wire running along the top. Kathryn hesitantly reached out and touched a plastic panel containing the imprint of three hands. She pressed the pad, and the gate opened.

The land outside the grove was dotted with craggy hills, scorched trees and dilapidated buildings. Small black planes littered the airways, yellow signs streaming behind them: Monday is milk day. Blue Pass citizens report… 

Kathryn tried to read the signs, but the brightness of the sun stung her eyes. She turned, hearing the sound of a child’s laughter, and the approach of tiny feet. Kathryn rose from her grassy bed, startling a little girl with a beige colored puppy.

‘Toby! Back, back. Toby back.”

The puppy, unmindful of the girl, slithered through the grass, and came to a wobbly stop in front of Kathryn. “I won’t hurt you,” she said.

The girl shyly approached, her blue eyes brimming with curiosity.  “What is that?” she asked, pointing to Kathryn’s flashlight.

“It’s a flashlight.”

“Fash-lye. Fastlight…flash. May I hold it?”

“Yes, you may.” Kathryn handed it over. She rubbed the puppy’s fur, while the girl held and turned the object in her tiny hands.

The girl loosened it, gasping when the batteries fell out.

“Where am I?” Kathryn asked.

“Lila Jean! Suppertime, honey.”

Kathryn saw a woman come to the edge of a pasture enclosed by an old wood fence. Her hair, white as the clouds above, flowed gently to her shoulders. She carried a bright staff to serve where her sightless eyes had failed. The full lips, the cleft chin…Layla! 

“My God!”

“That’s my mama calling. Come with me,” said Lila Jean. “Promise she won’t shoot you.”

“I can’t. I have to go home too.” Kathryn backed away, legs trembling, mind reeling from the vision in the pasture.

“Who are you talking to, Lila Jean?” The woman tilted her head slightly, and leaned her thin body heavily on the fence. She raised her cane and it glowed menacingly under the orange skies.

“No one, mama.” Lila Jean removed her bonnet, and reached up, grabbing a handful of berries. “Here,” she said, laying the bonnet in Kathryn’s lap. She giggled, and scooped up Toby. “Go through the pretty light. Go! ”

“What light?” Kathryn turned, seeing the familiar glow. When she looked back, the child and her mother was gone.

Kathryn closed her eyes, and crawled into the light. Sulfur stung her nose, and before she could hold her breath, she was back inside the utility closet.

She gasped, and staggered forth, then she slid the iron bolt in place. “Dear God, it works!”

Layla. Kathryn quickly gathered her belongings, eager to tell Layla the results of their latest research.

***

 “We…we shouldn’t be doing this,” Helen said.

“Shhhh.” Layla buried her face in the silver-gray of Helen’s soft hair as she moved gently inside her.

Helen arched, turning slowly in Layla’s arms. Secure in the familiar union, she let her mind flow with her body, embracing each touch as if it were her last. A lock of Layla’s hair grazed her belly, and Helen shivered. Layla’s words, her sweet scent and glistening skin…the feel of Layla, echoed distant whispers, releasing her.

Layla covered Helen with her warm body. She moved her hand in soothing circles, altering each touch with the rise and fall of Helen’s chest, the glimmer in her eyes, the soft sounds growing stronger. “…Helen….”

***

Kathryn stood in the doorway, holding the bonnet and Layla’s bags. She watched them writhe like animals on the bed in her guestroom. Her grip tightened on the bonnet, crushing berries and grapes. And their sticky sweetness pooled over her clenched hand, staining the floor red.

Layla, eyes closed, head thrown back, rose to Helen’s touch. Helen moved slowly atop her, thigh bathed red, skin glowing beneath the dying sunlight. Whispering encouragement in Layla’s ear.

Then Helen turned, her eyes meeting Kathryn’s: stormy gray clearly stating, leave us alone.

It was not Helen’s deadly gaze, but Layla’s passionate cries, which drove Kathryn beyond her home into the chilled air of the streets.

***

“Want to talk about it?”

Kathryn remained silent, eyes fixed on Tasha’s TV. She surfed the channels, settling on a comedy, though she didn’t feel like laughing.

“I know you, Kathryn.” Tasha sat beside her. “They’re at your house, you’re at mine. What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then what’s this thing on my coffee table? One Stop ran out of bags?”

Kathryn stared at the juice-stained bonnet and her jaw clenched. “Oh…that.”

“What about it?”

“I came home too early. Leave it at that.”

Tasha disappeared into the kitchen, and went about swiftly setting out pots and pans, selecting the right herbs for a dinner no one would eat. As she ground pepper, chopped onions and pealed potatoes, she paled to think her friendship with Kathryn was little more than small talk between acquaintances.

How did it get to this, she wondered. Then she shook her head, recalling randy events with June, and sterile dates with Allison. Allison. Now there was a woman who was more secretive than Kathryn.

Tasha wiped her hands, dialed Allison’s number, and then forlornly hung up on the sixth ring. Her hands itched as she reached for the phone again. There was no answer at Kathryn’s either.

“Kathryn, I’ll brew some coffee for us.”

The only sound was the sharp intake of cigarette smoke.

***

Helen nuzzled the nape of Layla’s neck. Joy and sorrow surged within her as she laid her chin on Layla’s shoulder. She felt like a thief, usurping that which rightfully belonged to Kathryn. But Kathryn can’t love her the way I do. And Kathryn can’t save her.

“Helen?” Layla called softly, curling into the warm nook of Helen’s body.

“Sleep well, love?”

“Yes. What are you thinking about?”

“I want to stay here forever…alone with you.”

“I want that too, but-” Layla stiffened. “Why was I with Tasha the night I… the night it happened?” Layla pulled Helen closer. “Don’t answer that.”

“You already know the worst of it.” Helen waited a moment for her to protest, then continued. “You become good friends.”

“What about Kathryn?”

“I am Kathryn, darling.”

Layla started at the words, the same voice from her dreams. “But you cannot remain here with me.”

“You’re right, I can’t stay much longer. Will you help me get back to my time?” 

“Of course, I would do anything for you.” She took Helen into her arms.  “Is your presence the reason Kathryn grows weak?”

“Two bodies, one soul.”

One soul. I love them both, Layla thought, startled by the revelation.

She stroked Helen’s arm, pausing at the burn left by her attacker. “We should find out who did this,” she said. Then she lightly kissed the top of the bandage.

“I seem to have more than ghosts chasing me through time.” Helen sighed. “Oh, darling, no tears. None of this is your fault.” She held Layla, kissing that special place on her neck. “I brought your bag in. Kathryn must have dropped it off while we slept. ”

“I am sorry I missed her.” Layla rose from the bed and pulled a robe from the bag. “She stopped by Professor Trudeau’s lab,” she said, spying the books on the floor. “But these journals are not mine.”

“They belong to me.” Helen moved quickly to retrieve them.

Layla reached over and kissed Helen. “No more work until I brew tea and get some food into you.”

“Coffee, please?”

“You’re as bad as Kathryn.” Layla blushed after the words left her mouth.

Helen laughed, imaging the horrified look on Kathryn’s face if she were to hear Layla’s words. I’m far worse, she thought. Then she hardened; determined to forget about the nail she’d hammered into Kathryn’s passion.

Helen grabbed a pen, lay back on the bed, and opened one of her journals. She recorded Trudeau’s name as a reminder to follow up on the Professor.

***

Helen’s pulse quickened as the pen flew out of her hand, hovering in mid air. Ink drops whirled, forming familiar patterns on the blank pages. Horrified, Helen continued to read until nausea overtook her.

I saw an old woman standing by a rotting fence, eyes white, and clothes torn. Her scarred arms still imbued with strength enough to lift small children-children who gathered by her gate seeking care…. They were all hers now; refugees from a world crazed with destruction.

The woman looked at me, dead eyes seeing straight into my soul. “Kathryn,” she said, “why?”

And I knew this world was of my making….

Helen stumbled to the bathroom, and threw up. Then she sunk to her knees, slamming her fists against the cold porcelain. What have I done, she wondered.

***

Later that evening, Layla and Helen sat down to dinner just as the door to Kathryn’s apartment opened.

“See,” Helen said, “I told you Kathryn would be here soon.”

“Room for two more?” Tasha strode in, leaving Kathryn in the doorway.

Kathryn leaned against the door for support, watching as Tasha placed several colorful containers on the table.

“Mmmmm, rice and beans, plantains-they will go good with my beef stew, “ Tasha commented. “Who’s the yummy cook?”

“That would be this lovely young woman.” Helen rubbed Layla’s shoulder.

Kathryn felt a wave of anger, and it sapped the strength from her cold limbs. She remained close to the door, staring at Layla’s flushed skin. She should be mine.

“Well,” Tasha moved behind Layla’s chair, “since you know what you’re doing, you can help me in the kitchen.”

“Kathryn and I will hold the fort, love,” Helen said, unnerved by the young Tasha. She’d almost forgotten what her friend was like without a mask of bitterness clouding her beautiful face.

Kathryn allowed Layla to remove her coat and lead her to the table.

Helen watched as Kathryn searched the girl’s eyes for a hint of guile, a touch of betrayal.

“I appreciate your bringing my things over. I-” Layla halted when Kathryn pulled out a smoke and stared at her. “Helen and I were asleep when you came in. I… missed you.” She hugged Kathryn briefly before joining Tasha in the kitchen

“Have some coffee.” Helen filled Kathryn’s cup. Then she folded her hands on the table, anticipating a heated discussion. When Kathryn failed to respond, she continued. “I discovered something quite interesting today.”

“So did I. But it was more disturbing than interesting.” Kathryn leaned back, blowing lazy rings of smoke toward the ceiling. “Would you like to go first, or shall I?”

“That was a private moment between Layla and myself. It does not concern you.”

“Then what the hell are we talking about?”

The women regarded each other closely, intent on searching for that fine crack in the wall, that small opening to wage an attack. Helen backed off, hearing the click of heels on the hardwood. “I’ll let you know later. And we will talk later, since you and I have business to discuss. ”

Kathryn raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“Okay, folks, eat up.” Tasha nudged Kathryn, and she doused her cigarette in her coffee cup.

“Is it not to your liking, Kathryn?” Helen asked. “I happen to love the way Layla makes coffee.” She gently stroked Layla’s cheek with the back of her hand.

Ignoring Helen, Kathryn let her gaze fall on Layla who sat straight as rod, intently studying her every move.

“Tell me,” Layla said. “Exactly how did you and Tasha meet?”

Kathryn leaned back in her chair, eyes focusing on her plate.

Tasha raised her hand; signaling everyone to wait while she took a gulp of water to wash down her food. “Kathryn had just set up her practice, and-mmm, I need another drink.” She settled for wine. “I was her first candidate for medical assistant.”

“I assume the interview went well,” said Layla.

“Nah, she offered me therapy.”

Layla coughed, though Kathryn smiled at the memory.

“So, what happened?” Layla asked.

Kathryn watched Layla’s face as she spoke, “She told me: ‘it took two buses and a train to get here. My whole day sucks so far. So, either hire me, or let’s have some fun on your couch.’ ”

Tasha let go with a high-pitched squeal, and lightly punched Kathryn’s arm. And Layla listened in amazement to Helen’s raucous laugh- Kathryn’s carbon copy- a bit gray, but lively still. Same smirk, same eyes-yet neither woman could see it.

Helen smirked as Kathryn draped her arm warmly around Tasha. “Did you hire her after, or before the couch?” she asked, deliberately goading her doppelganger. 

Kathryn placed her hands on the table, fingers stroking the fine linen. She spoke softly, slowly, “Cradle robbing isn’t my specialty, Doctor.”

Helen regarded her coldly. 

“Ooookay, anyone for peach cobbler?” Tasha asked. “Beer? Wine…aspirin?”

“Aspirin for two,” Helen replied, looking directing into Kathryn’s eyes.

Time Alone…

***

“Kathryn, wait!” Layla caught up to Kathryn just as she rounded the corner.

Kathryn turned, stopping long enough to wave Layla off, before heading into a small park. She sat on a bench, watching a parade of joggers huffing along in the frigid air. Their frosty breath curled with her cigarette smoke.

Kathryn crossed her legs, wondering how was she to counsel people in need when she couldn’t solve her own problems. Jealousy, acrimony-it wasn’t like her. But then, she’d never had anyone to rage over before.

Not like Layla. 

“Persistent, aren’t you?” She looked up at Layla who was gasping for air and flushed from her frantic chase.

Layla dropped beside her on the bench. She draped Kathryn’s coat around her shoulders. “How could you leave like this?”

“There was enough steam blowing in my apartment to keep me warm for months.”

“By that you mean Helen. Why are you so antagonistic toward her?”

“Me?” Kathryn paused to look at two teenagers skateboarding toward the duck pond. One stopped just short of the water’s edge, reached out and pushed his companion in. “Kids, huh?” She smirked.

“I do not believe I will ever have children.”

Kathryn withdrew the soiled bonnet from her pocket. Then she folded her hands in her lap, and listened to the sound of dry leaves dancing like whirling dervishes on the concrete.

“Where did you get this?” Layla turned it over in her hands, caressing the fine stitching. “It belonged to me as a child.”

“It will belong to your child one day.” Lila Jean’s image floated into view: a small child parting with precious berries to feed a stranger. Kathryn tossed her cigarette on the ground. “Her life will be different from anything we’ve ever experienced.”

“You saw the future.”

“Yes, and it was so lonely….”

“Was I there with you?” Layla asked, examining Kathryn’s blistered hands. “Kathryn?”

“Why would you even consider that…after what happened today?”

Kathryn continued smoking, and focused on the jungle gym in the park. Kids climbed, fought, jumped, and one peed in the sandbox while his mother screamed at him. The purest form of humanity, she thought. Their minds not yet formed and pressed into society’s cruel restraints.

I’m just a nightmare to her- a terrifying future, Kathryn thought.

Kathryn turned her attention back to her quiet companion. “I now understand why you don’t want to be with me.”

“You saw us,” Layla said, her voice just above a whisper. Then she fell silent, holding onto the only tangible thing that meant she would have a future: a small child’s bonnet. 

“Isn’t this the part where you offer apologies for our lust crazed guest?”

“Helen has nothing to apologize for,” Layla responded. “I came to her.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Layla smiled sadly.

“Who is she, Layla?” Kathryn asked, knowing the truth as well as she knew the ache in her joints, and the fear in her belly. “Who is that woman in my home?”

Layla looked away. “She is here for me, Kathryn.”

“So am I!” Kathryn rose from the bench. She willed her mind to calm when Layla touched her, a brief gesture beseeching peace. 

Kathryn took Layla’s arm, and they walked down the chilly path toward home.

***

 “…Oh, honey, you’ve gotta see this place. The women are so beautiful.”  Tasha touched her glass to Helen’s.

“Layla above all.” Helen laughed at Tasha’s wiggling eyebrows.

“You’re okay, Doc Wells.”

“In regards to what?” Kathryn walked in with Layla. She stared at her friend sharing a peaceful moment with the woman she knew she would despise for the rest of her days.

“Ah, our prodigals have returned.” Tasha scooted over to make room for them on the couch.

“Helen,” Layla said, “we should go home now.”

“No argument here. But first-Kathryn, may I speak with you alone?”

“Follow me,” Kathryn said.

***

“You played with fire today.” Helen held Kathryn’s hands, and brushed her thumb against an oozing blister. “Did you tell Layla what you saw on your little trip?”

Kathryn tugged away from Helen’s grasp. “Who the hell are you?”

“Don’t you know, sweetheart?” Helen grinned at her, leveling her gray eyes on the horrified young face. “I’m you.”

Kathryn backed against the wall, eyes wide with terror, bile filling her throat. What cursed event in her life had turned her into this soulless bitch? She shuddered, taking in the woman before her: Similar body, give or take a few pounds; same face, though fuller around the cheeks. But those eyes: sharp, ruthless…cold.

“Don’t believe me?”

Kathryn shook her head, unwilling to believe.

“Ah, let’s see. We kissed Jimmy Green when we were twelve-didn’t do a thing for us. Fell off old man Simpson’s roof after sneaking out of his daughter’s window. Almost broke our neck with that stunt, didn’t we, daddy’s little sweetheart?” Helen laughed at the memory. “What happened to you, Kathryn? When did you become so…cautious?”

“You have no right to play God with her life.”

“Why not? You tried to force her into a relationship-make her yours. Did you even stop to ask Layla what she wanted?” Helen carefully regarded Kathryn. “Thought not. Now, down to business: Layla is aware that she no future with you, Kathryn-not in this timeline. But she knows what I can give her.”

Kathryn’s knees buckled, and she was suddenly sick with the thought that her future self had seduced the girl, driving her down an unnatural path. “This is madness.”

“It doesn’t matter because I’m taking her with me.” Helen closed the bedroom door. “So make your goodbye count. Do you understand? ”

Understand? Kathryn crossed to the window, and pulled back the edge of a drape. How was she to understand anything going on in her life?” Past, present, future; the thing she’d become, leaning against her bedroom door?

“What makes you think she’ll go?” Kathryn asked, barely turning to look at Helen.

Helen moved within an inch of Kathryn, stroking her auburn hair, relishing the softness. “We all want one thing, Kathryn: to live.”

Our minds work the same way, Kathryn mused. “There’s one thing you’re forgetting.”

“What might that be?”

“I want her to live, too.”

“Then, under the circumstances, I feel it would be best-”

“I won’t interfere.”

“Thank you.” Helen cupped Kathryn’s chin. “I’m the only woman she can love…the only woman who can save her.”

Kathryn shivered. Had she really become so arrogant? So deluded? “As I said, I won’t interfere. I understand everything perfectly now.”

“Then come out with me and say goodbye. And please, forget about the simulations…what you saw. The important thing is for you to get well.”

“I’m feeling better already. ” Kathryn forced her body to relax as Helen gathered her in a stifling embrace.

***

“I don’t get it,” Tasha said, half an hour later. “You’re crazy about the girl, and you let her walk out of here with Wells?”

“Do two things for me, love.”

Tasha felt something cold skitter down her spine. Kathryn never used endearments-not with her. “Umm, what, Kathryn?”

“Check out Daleview… and called up your sugar mama.”

“Allison? Why?”

“I need a little lab time.”

***

Time And Again

Layla tossed in bed with a nightmare taking hold of her in its steel grip.

She moved through the black smoke, gagging and holding her stomach. Then she dropped to the floor, blindly searching for her friends. Where were they? Someone dragged her toward the exit, each bump of the stairs scraping her shoulders.

Put out the fire! Please stop it!  

The building crumbled…

Layla woke, eyes rolling back in her head. “No! Stop!”

“Layla!” Helen gently shook her. “It’s just a bad dream, darling.” She cradled Layla in her arms. “Nothing can hurt you now that I’m here.”

“It seemed so real,” Layla whispered. As she slipped her hands under Helen’s shirt, exploring the contours of her back, the dark dream faded. She pulled down Helen’s pajama bottoms, and pressed into the soft skin…

Both women started at the sound of the phone, its red light winking in protest.

“Don’t answer it,” Helen said.

“It could be Kath… an emergency.” Layla released her and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”

 Helen rolled away, dropping her head on the pillow.

“Yes, I understand. It is not a problem. Goodnight.”

“What was that about?”

“Professor Trudeau needs the lab this weekend.”

“Damn. Well, I’ll have to start setting things up tomorrow.”

“I will go too. I…I want to spend as much time as I can with you before you leave.”

“You don’t want to miss rehearsal. It will make June suspicious. ” Helen stroked Layla’s hair. “Meet me later?”

“You promise to wait? I want to be with you.”

“We have all week, darling.” Helen looked into Layla’s blue eyes. “But, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

***

“Well, Nurse Tim is full of crap,” Tasha said, hanging up the phone. “Helen wasn’t tied up-she was dragged in rambling. Probably hopped up on some wild drug. Committed, Kathryn. Helen was committed.”

“Who brought her in?”

“You.”

“Impossible!”

“It’s your signature on the form, honey. Tim faxed it over. Damn good forgery, wouldn’t you say?”

“Get to the bottom of this.” Kathryn laid the paper on the Tasha’s desk, disgust clouding her face.

“Oh, that’s the buzzer.” Tasha opened the speaker. “Yeah, come on up, baby.”

“Who is it?”

“The sweetest sugar in the world.”

Kathryn smirked. “I need more clarification than that.”

“Allison Trudeau.”

“Oh? Show her to the session room.”

“I’ll send in coffee too-no sugar.” Tasha winked.
 

***

Allison Trudeau entered the session room with a slight limp that gave her hips a tantalizing sway. Her green eyes surveyed the artwork hanging from the walls, before they settled on Kathryn.

“We meet again, Doctor Reilly.” Her voice was low sweet honey. 

Kathryn noticed that the woman was far more beautiful than she had appeared while shadowed beneath the dim lights in the Elysian. Her raven hair, pulled into a French roll, illuminated her features. A short woman, most likely in her mid-fifties, Kathryn guessed. And the extra weight she carried, gave her body a lushness well deserving of Tasha’s assessment: Sweetest sugar in the world.

She caught herself staring and blushed. Trudeau’s knowing grin had taken her by surprise.

“You didn’t have to travel all this way to give me the key.” Kathryn took Trudeau’s hand. “Shall we sit on the couch?”

“This is sufficient,” Trudeau replied, taking one of the chairs in front of Kathryn’s desk. She crossed her shapely legs, tilted her head, waiting for Kathryn to begin their conversation.

“Professor, do you understand the nature of Layla’s work?”

“I don’t hold myself up as an expert, but yes.”

“Then you are aware of the danger involved,” Kathryn said, her gaze straying to the Professor’s elegant legs. “In a controlled environment-”

“Forgive me for interrupting, Doctor Riley, but there’s nothing controlled about Layla’s work.” Trudeau withdrew the key from her purse, and gave it to Kathryn. “I trust, as her mentor, you will provide her with the guidance she needs.”

“Of course I will.”

Trudeau laughed, a soft sweet sound. And something gave way in Kathryn’s throat, a tickle of unease telling her Trudeau was not a good match for Tasha; sedate, composed-a bit glacial in demeanor. “I’m curious: what exactly is your relationship with Tasha?”

“Just friends,” she said. “We’re both hopelessly in love with someone else.” Trudeau gave her a strange smile.

But the enigmatic expression peaked Kathryn’s curiosity. Tasha? Love? Loyalty, friendship, yes, Kathryn thought, but she couldn’t recall Tasha being in love with anyone, let alone hopeless.

Kathryn left the confines of her desk and settled in the chair next to Trudeau. “I’d love to meet the woman who captured Tasha’s heart.” 

Trudeau’s laugh filled the room. Then the mirth subsided, her face once again hidden beneath a glacial mask.

“Well, I guess it’s back to business.”

“Yes. Your Doctor Wells is little more than a criminal, Kathryn. She steals time.” Trudeau placed her hands on Kathryn’s slim shoulders. “And she’s traveled far more than you.”

“What? I don’t quite-” Kathryn’s face paled. “Then you know I’ve seen the future.”

“You saw a future.”

Trudeau moved quickly; smooth as a gazelle. And before Kathryn could react, Trudeau touched the nape of her neck, cool fingers gently holding her in place. Her eyes glittered strangely under the office lights. Kathryn held her gaze, noting the thick green film covering her dark eyes. She looked away.

“Keep her safe.” Trudeau dropped a light kiss on Kathryn’s lips before leaving for the reception area.

Stunned, Kathryn opened her palm and rubbed the depression made by her tight grip on Trudeau’s key.

***

“Come on, baby. You’re out of step.” June stood behind Layla, snaking an arm around her slim waist. “One. Two. Slide.”

Layla concentrated, moving fluidly but without passion. They’d remained long after the other dancers had left for the day. The steps became more tedious for Layla, but she knew June wouldn’t let her go until she got a good performance out of her. So, Layla closed her eyes, swayed with beat, and thought of Helen’s hands…

Trudeau’s call had interrupted their play. Then Helen unplugged the nuisance, her husky voice burning Layla’s ear.

“Dance for me.”

Layla rose, grinding to the music in her head. She let go-body primitive; a jaguar, probing, dark, ready…  Blue silk rustled, flowed down her back, over her calves, gliding to the floor.   

Helen’s hands: exploring the heavy roundness of her breasts, lowering her to the carpet. Tongue slick, sliding beneath, slipping inside, consuming her. Breathless…breathless, she came, curling, folding, melting under Helen’s restless hands…

“Damn!” June said, releasing her. “Do that tomorrow, and they’ll shut us down, baby girl.

Layla stopped, disoriented by her surroundings. Stage lights burned, causing her to squint at the blurry exit sign. “I…I have to go.”

“Yeah, me too.” June dabbed her brow, then tossed the towel to Layla. “Tasha’s in for it tonight.” She winked.

Layla grabbed her. “June, can a person change their fate?” she asked, eyes wide, searching, scared.

June took a step back. “Your fate.” Then she pulled Layla close. “Leave it alone, baby.”

Alone. Layla saw visions of an austere planet, dark days ahead. “I wish I could, June.”

***

Kathryn sat in her car, watching as Layla exited the Elysian. The girl’s tan Jacket flew open, exposing a black leotard top clinging to her body as she raised her arm, signaling for a cab. Kathryn’s stomach tightened, spying the jean- clad legs, taut in high-heel boots.

“God,” Kathryn groaned, turning on the ignition. Someone pounded on the window as she pulled away.  She broke fast, and Tasha climbed in beside her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Move, woman. You got a truck on your tail.” Tasha buckled up. “I’m not letting you do whatever it is you think you’re doing alone.”

“What?”

“It was hard enough to say the first time. Now, go!”

Kathryn pulled away, bearing down on the yellow cab.

***

Choices

“Darling, you’re just in time.” Helen stood at the controls, rapidly keying in formulas. “The system is weak, but it’ll have to do.”

Layla approached slowly. “You are leaving today?”

“You knew it would come to this.” Helen turned her intense gaze on the girl. “I’ve found a way for both of us to have what we want: Kathryn and Tasha will be safe, and so will you.”

“I do not understand.”

Helen palmed a silver disc, then pressed enter. The system strained, cables sputtered to life. And a hazy blue-ringed light appeared before them, wavering like gelatin.

“Take my hand.”

“This is wrong.” Layla tried to move, but Helen caught her wrist, pulling her closer to the swirling liquid.

“Come with me, darling.”

“Let her go!” Kathryn yelled.

Tasha entered the lab behind Kathryn, practically shoving her aside. “What the hell is that thing?” She withdrew a small gun and leveled it at Helen.

“Tasha,” Kathryn’s hand snaked out, grabbing the barrel. “Put it away.”

“That’s right, Tasha, listen to her,” Helen said, quickly moving out of range. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Fu-“

“No!” Layla shielded Helen.

“Layla,” Kathryn said gently, “Come to me.”

Layla froze; rooted to the floor, heart climbing into her throat. It is not their decision- it is not. Her mind whirled, dizzy with choices, heavy with guilt.

“Please.” Kathryn reached out her hand. “You don’t know how many lives this will affect.”

Images of mass destruction flashed in Layla’s mind. She grabbed hold of Kathryn’s arm.

Helen surged forward, and Tasha fired.

The air sizzled with electricity, and thick clouds rose from the sputtering equipment, blacking out the room. Then the building shook, hurling Helen into the blue plasma-sparks licking at her heels as she tunneled through time.

“I can’t see!” Layla screamed. “Where are you? Kathryn! Tasha!”

Tasha opened the door, causing a back draft as the fire burned out of control. She dropped her weapon, fell to her knees, and crawled toward Kathryn. “Got her?” she asked.

“She’s hurt,” Kathryn said. “Grab her legs!”

Weakened from smoke, they pulled Layla toward the exit. Kathryn held Layla’s head as they dragged her down the steps- each bump ripping a fiery trail of pain down Layla’s scorched back.

“Hurry, Tasha!” Kathryn yelled, her throat raw.

Finally, they lay in a heap on the sidewalk, shivering in the cold.

***

“How is she?” Kathryn leaned against a sickly green wall outside Layla’s room.

Doctor Ann Peterson, a colleague of hers, shook her head slowly. “The burns were minor. So were the cuts and bruises, though they may leave a slight scarring on her face….”

“Go on, Ann. Please.”

“There’s vision loss in the left eye. Over time, the right will deteriorate as well.” The Doctor held out a hand to steady Kathryn. “If you want to help her, go back to your room and get some rest.”

Both women started from a crash in Layla’s room.

“Get out!”

Layla’s outburst sent a young nurse tearing out of the room. “All I tried to do was give her a bath!”

Kathryn edged closer to the door.

“Kathryn, don’t.”    

“It will take more than a few tantrums to frighten me off.”

Kathryn entered the room, ducking just in time to avoid a bedpan sailing overhead. “Ready for the world, I see.”

“I thought you were-” Layla trailed off, touching the bandage covering her left eye. “Why are you here? My work is over.”   

“It doesn’t have to be.” Kathryn moved to Layla’s bedside. “Let me…see for you. Let me...” Kathryn raised Layla’s hand to her lips, brushing softly against the cool skin.

“I- I cannot help but wonder what happened to Helen.”

“Floating somewhere in space, I hope. But, with my luck, she’s probably planning her next move.” The stinging effect of her words on Layla brought Kathryn up short. “I’m sorry. I forget how much you care for her.”

“And you.”

“We’re not the same.”

“Because of me, Helen is what you will become.”

“Not in our world.” Kathryn gently kissed Layla’s cheek.

“Still, you and Tasha could have died in the fire.” Layla frowned, removing her hand from Kathryn’s grasp. “Please leave, Kathryn.”

“I make my own choices.”

“So do I.” Layla turned her ruined face to the window.

Kathryn grew quiet in the somber room. She tugged on the privacy curtains. Then sitting on the edge of the bed, she removed Layla’s gown, and ran a damp sponge over her fevered skin.

Layla caught Kathryn’s wrist. “How can you bear to …touch me?”

Kathryn moved closer, and embraced her in the fading light.

***

Home

“Open up, St. James!” Tasha pounded her fist on the door of Layla’s apartment. “I know you’re in there.” Just as she was about to bang again, the door opened, and she staggered inside.

Layla stared at the riled up woman, wondering how in the world they would ever become friends. Making her way over to the couch, Layla removed the spare pillows and sheets. She could not sleep in her bedroom, still feeling Kathryn’s presence by the scent of her perfume.

“Trudeau forgave me,” Tasha said, taking a seat on the couch. She sank into the thick cushions, feeling the heat from Layla’s interrupted slumber. “How about that? Woman would never let me kiss her, but she forgives me for burning down her damn loft.”

“You came here to tell me that?”

“I want to know why you’re hiding from Kathryn.”

Kathryn is probably relieved, Layla thought. When she had peered into the harsh glare of her bathroom mirror, tiny lacerations took on the size of railroad tracks, and her bruised chin seemed a battered purple mess. Beauty didn’t matter to her, but she knew the sway it held over others.

“I have nothing to give her.”

“I won’t pretend to understand any of that shit that happened in the loft, but I know one thing: If Helen really is Kathryn, then she would do anything for you. So what are you going to do for her?”

“I do not know.”

“Yeah? Well a bottle of Jack, and hot bath will take care of that.”

Layla looked up, alarmed. Did the woman think she was going to booze her senseless, then drown her like a sewer rat?  

“Lighten up, honey. It’s soup.” Tasha uncapped the thermos and poured a generous helping for Layla. “Drink it. Then we’ll go shopping.”

“I am not going anywhere with you.”

“Know why you fell for Helen, honey?” Tasha asked. “She was safe. You knew she wouldn’t be around long enough to see all the little flaws you got buried inside.” She thumped Layla’s chest.

“You are wrong. I…”

“When we were in the hospital, I watched Kathryn go to your room every night. And every morning, I had to drag her out before you woke.”

Layla stared at Tasha, shock and guilt wracking her mind. She had slept well every night during her convalescence, despite the pain. Now she knew why.

“Answer a question for me, baby.” Tasha was inches from her face. “Do you have an overnight bag?”

It wasn’t a question, and Layla was appalled and puzzled by Tasha’s blunt demand. She’d realized the day they had met that Tasha was in love with Kathryn. So in love she would do anything to make her happy. “I sleep well enough in my own bed, thank you.”

***

Kathryn hadn’t sleep well in her own bed, or on the couch in her session room where her most difficult clients now sat slumped on the leather cushions. She listened with unending fatigue to their rants.

“I’m not taking his crap anymore!” Jenny said.

“I’m home every night now. But that’s not good enough for her-noooo, she wants me to grovel.” Robert rolled his eyes. “I mean, what’s that shit all about?”

“Respect! That’s what it’s all about. After what he did to me, he should be glad I didn’t strangle him.”

“As if-”

The pair shot up in their seats when Kathryn slammed her fists on the desk. She opened a drawer and withdrew a pack of smokes, all the while burning the hapless couple with her deadly glare.

“I’m not charging you for this session,” she pulled out a cigarette and lit up. “In fact, I’m going to leave you right here until you either talk to each other, or give up this torture you call a relationship.”

She tossed them the keys to her office. As she headed for the door, the couple’s coughs and stutters echoed in her ears.

“You believe that?”

“Um, Jen, I didn’t really sleep with all those women.”

“Oh, please.”

“Damn, why can’t we just-”

“If you…”

Well, it’s a beginning, Kathryn thought, closing the door on her way out.

***

“What’s cooking?” Kathryn asked, her voice light and cheerful though her mood was dusty gray.

No response.

“Tasha? ” Kathryn called out to her friend. Night and day, Tasha had stayed by her side, tirelessly working to cheer her up, coming home early to fix her dinner.

“In here.”

Kathryn entered the kitchen, and hugged her friend. Tasha, startled by the display of affection, dropped the whisk she’d held. Eggs whites splattered Kathryn’s suit, giving her the appearance of an urchin lost in a blizzard.

“Hey!” Tasha yelled. Kathryn, ignoring the mess, had opened the oven door, imploding Tasha’s soufflé.

“You just ruined a dream.”

“One of many,” Kathryn said, thinking of Layla’s nightmares and her own haunting dreams. “Why don’t we go out?”

“Oh, baby, I planned on it. There’s something on the bed for you.” Tasha shooed her out of the kitchen. “I hope a roast beef sandwich can hold you, ‘cause we’re gonna have a long, wild night. Escorts and everything, baby.”

Kathryn opened her mouth, but the sharp retort caught in her throat when she spied stockings, garters and the low cut dress laid across her bed.

***

“So, where’s my date?” Kathryn asked. She felt like a chauffer while Tasha snuggled in the back with a stunning brunette.

“Candy’s running late, doll,” said the brunette. “She’ll meet us at the club.”

“Candy?” Kathryn wanted to turn back home. The Elysian of all places, and this… dress. Any redder, Kathryn thought, I’d need a fire truck.

***

After entering the Club, the women sat at Tasha’s favorite table: front row, center. Kathryn ordered a glass of wine and sullenly watched June burn up the stage with her scintillating dancers. And of course, not one pair of those long legs belonged to Layla. And where the hell was her date?

Kathryn drank. Her spirits flagged, and the music got slower.

“You know the redhead, doll?” the brunette asked Tasha, jerking her thumb at the stage. “The one in the middle with the big boobies.”

Kathryn was appalled, but Tasha blew steamy kisses toward the stage. And June’s lascivious wink, the way she dragged her tongue over her bottom lip…. “Her name is June,” Kathryn growled.

June gave a thumbs up-a movement slicker than oil. The House lights went down, and the dancers, mere ghosts on a dim stage, gyrated to the sensuous beat.

“A blackout?” one of the patrons whispered. “Nah, wouldn’t be any music,” said another.

After staining to see in the dark, the patrons let out a collective gasp; their eyes followed a roving spotlight down the center aisle: 

Legs, long legs bathed in amber. A vision; she moved with the grace of a lion into the light, a hint of silk; a lush thigh. 

Layla extended her hand to Kathryn. “Dance with me.”

Tasha cupped a hand to Kathryn’s ear, “Get up, woman!”

“Lay-la…Layla,” patrons sprang to their feet, singing to the jazzy rendition.

Kathryn stayed rooted to her chair, eyes glazed, brain numb.

Layla, hands brushing thighs, slowly raised the hem of her black dress, baring silk garters. She lowered her body, gold hair burning Kathryn’s flushed face. “Hold me.”

Kathryn’s arms circled the slender waist. Layla leaned back, and Kathryn moved with her, lips brushing the girl’s pale neck.

As the throbbing music played on, the club went black.

“Lay-la…Lay-la.”  

The lights came up. Kathryn’s chair was empty….

***

The crowd’s fevered chants grew stronger. Backstage another fever gained momentum: clothes fell, scenery crashed to the floor.

Layla pressed Kathryn against a wall in the storage room, entering her with ease. “Talk to me.”   

“Layla, Lay…” Kathryn slipped her arms around Layla’s neck, purring in her ear.

Taken: blood racing, heart pounding, dissolving under Layla’s tongue. Kathryn gripped the slender shoulders as long fingers and moist lips brushed over her bosom, down her burning belly to her trembling thighs. Her breath caught. Layla knelt before her, driving her to a sharp peak.

“God.” Kathryn’s knees gave way, and she sank into Layla’s waiting arms.

They lay on a soft pad, surrounded by a forest of fallen nymphs, preening goddesses, roughed sirens kneeling on rocks high above swollen waters. The painted worlds lay scattered about them on the dusty floor. “We…we did all this?” Kathryn asked, shock registering on her face.

“You,” Layla said, snapping the silk garter on Kathryn’s flushed thigh.

Kathryn’s blush rivaled the color of her fallen dress.  She touched Layla’s scarred brow. Nuzzled her cheek. “Tell me what you want, darling.”

“In time…your forgiveness.” 

Kathryn trailed her fingers down Layla’s bare arms, finally capturing the elegant hands in her own. “Ask me for something you don’t have.”

Layla sought the hand Kathryn had laid on her breast, moving it lower.

 “Layla.” A throaty laugh escaped Kathryn’s lips. “Beautiful girl.”

Layla smiled, stroking the birthmark on Kathryn’s belly. Her mouth enclosed the dagger, lips circling the rounded edges of a clover.

“Are there…other similarities?” Kathryn asked.

Layla looked up, and gently shook her head.

“If Helen should return …”

She lay back on the soft pad, gently taking Kathryn with her. Her hand cupped red silk. “I belong with you.” Layla said, pulling Kathryn closer. 

***

Tunneling Through Time

Helen tumbled onto the neat lawn of her townhouse, a home she would own ten years after meeting Layla. She looked up at an approaching cab, and her pulse quickened.

Layla.

Layla exited the cab, balancing a cane and grocery bags in her arms. Though she told him to go, the driver waited patiently by the roadside.

Oh, God. Helen rose to her feet in the dense air. “Layla! Run! Get away from the house!”

“She can’t hear you.”

Helen turned in the direction of a soft voice. A woman emerged from the shadows of a fir tree, and gently grasped Helen’s hand. 

“Who…who are you?” 

“It’s happening.”

Helen followed the woman’s gaze, and her blood became ice.

Layla ascended the stairs.

“We can’t just stand here!” Helen whirled on the woman who had grabbed her arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Preserving this timeline.”

Helen watched as Layla placed the bags on the porch, and began to search for her keys.

“You? ” Helen pulled back as old memories surged through her mind. “Damn you!”

Trudeau closed the gap between them, touching a hand to Helen’s cheek. “I chased you all over time…losing ground with each alias-finally locking you up. I’m not surprised you escaped.”

“You tried to kill me!”

“I tried to scare you off, but obviously, it didn’t work.”

“I won’t watch her die! We have to do something,” Helen pleaded. “Please…you must… Layla! Layla!”

“A price will be paid tonight, Helen.” Trudeau regarded her sadly.

“No!” Helen backed away.

Trudeau moved quickly. They struggled, stopping only when they heard gunfire coming from the house. Helen tore away from her grasp, raced toward the steps, and shoved Layla off the porch.

Another shot rang out.

It doesn’t hurt… much, Helen thought, raising her head to the open doorway. Yet the bullet burned through her flesh like a blowtorch. A lopsided grin snaked its way onto her face. Relief: Layla was safe.

Tasha, screaming her head off, struggled with the burglar. The cabbie tore out of his car, racing across the lawn. He tackled the intruder, slamming him to the ground, but he was too late.

“No! God, no,” Helen cried out. Warm hands stroked her face. She looked up into Trudeau’s soft eyes. “Darling, forgive me.”

Amid the chaos, Trudeau gathered Helen in her arms, and both women vanished in a shimmering blue light.

***

Future’s Light

“It is time.” Layla opened the door of the black limousine.

“I can’t,” Kathryn said, refusing to move. She looked up at her lover of ten years, at how gently she cradled their child, Lila Jean.

“We need you... I need you.”

“Give her some time, honey,” said June. “I’ll take Lila Jean.”

They left Kathryn and headed through the open gates of the cemetery.

As they approached the wrought iron benches, June set the four year old down, watching as Lila Jean tore off through a row of flower arrangements, giggling in delight.

“Lila Jean!” Layla called. “Where has she gone off to?”

“It all right, mommy. She’s fine,” June assured. “How many more of the little rug rats will you adopt this year?”

“As many as they will allow us,” Kathryn said, rushing to catch up with them.

“I should open a nursery.” June laughed. “Hey, Layla, we can teach them how to dance.”

“No nightclubs for my babies,” Kathryn said, wickedly thinking about her first of many times with Layla in the Elysian’s storeroom.

Layla smiled.

“Okay, baby, we’re here,” June guided Layla to a bench.

“Everything is perfect.” Kathryn knelt before Layla, allowing her to caress her graying hair. “Exactly as you wanted.”

“Are the girls here yet?”  Layla asked.

“They’re coming now.” Kathryn squeezed Layla’s hand. “But don’t let them hear you say the word girls.”

“That’s my cue,” June said. “Come here, you little monkey.” She gathered up Lila Jean and headed for the gate.

Six women followed Lila Jean down the narrow path, their shoulders burdened by a silver coffin. When they reached the crypt, the women lay their precious cargo on the ground.

The letters carved above the crypt’s door, bold, and done with a bit of flash-how Tasha would love it, Kathryn thought.

“Today, we gather to honor our friend. Our sister.” June opened a worn bible and said a prayer.

Then the women gathered together, forming a circle

“Mama Katie, look!” Lila Jean pointed to June, who had opened an amber bottle, pouring its contents onto the ground. “Can Auntie see us?”

Lila Jean’s words gripped Kathryn’s heart. “She sees us, honey.”

“I can smell the brandy from here.” Layla said, hugging Kathryn close. “She would approve.”

“I…I should have been there. I…” Kathryn’s voice caught. “Why…why did she do it?”

“Because she loved our daughter, and she loved us.”

“I miss her so much.” Kathryn held Layla’s hand, her grip tightening on the slender fingers. Sadly, she asked, “Did you know she was Allison Trudeau?”

Layla smiled, but said nothing. In the gray cold, a breeze carried the scent of roses their way. “Described the flowers for me, Kathryn.”

“Roses.” Kathryn gazed at her lover’s face, “gold… beautiful.”

Epilogue

In the distance, a blue light glowed in morning mist. Two figures emerged from its warmth, one gently supporting the other. They dared not move closer for fear of troubling the mourners.

“I was too late.” The words burned Helen’s mouth, consuming her like the pain of an old wound. Tears flowed down her cheeks, chilling her to the bone.

“I know, darling. She was your Tasha, too. But you weren’t too late for Kathryn and Layla,” Tasha enfolded Helen in her arms, “or for me.”

Helen gazed for a moment at the couple holding each other beneath winter trees. Then she sought Tasha’s warmth, and they moved into the light.

Future’s End