A familiar aroma filled the air. “Grandma, are you baking your famous lasagna?” Peering through the stove’s glass, she could see cheese oozing inside the pasta. Her tongue could already taste her grandmother’s special sauce. If this was a dream, it certainly was a delicious one.
Grandma Thompson laughed. “You remember.”
“How could I forget? We haven’t had lasagna as good as this since . . . ” Her voice trailed off. It had been a long time since she’d seen her grandparents. “Is Grandpa here, too?”
Betty rummaged through the refrigerator. “What can I get you to eat? How about a sandwich?”
“I would love one.”
“Peanut butter and jelly still your favorite?”
“You know me well.” Amanda sat on a kitchen bar stool and scanned the room. It looked just as she remembered. The buff tabby from outside was now on the floor, sipping water from a bowl.
“Did you get a cat?”
Her grandmother followed her gaze and smiled. “She came to us about ten years ago. Bit finicky. We think she misses her owner.”
“She looks just like my Sydney.”
“Dear, can you grab me a cup from the cupboard?”
“Sure.” Amanda jumped up and glanced out the kitchen’s back window. “Grandma, it’s awfully foggy out there.”
“Oh, it’s always like that. Doesn’t matter what time of day. We’re used to it.”
“Really? Is Grandpa out there? Couldn’t he get hurt?”
“He’s dealt with it much longer than I have. He’s the one who taught me how to maneuver around.”
“Where did you say he was?”
“Oh, he’s out and about. He’ll be here soon.” She set the sandwich in front of Amanda. Thick, chunky peanut butter and raspberry jelly oozed out from the white bread.
“Oooh! Crustless! Just like I like it.”
Betty grabbed the cup and poured some milk into it. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know how much you love coffee, but we don’t drink it much. Is this okay?”
Amanda nodded and chewed her sandwich. “How do you know about my coffee addiction?” She was pretty sure that the last time she saw her grandmother, she had been too young to drink the stuff.
Her grandmother chuckled. “Oh, we’ve known for some time. Okay. I’m going to be out back. You finish eating your lunch and come join me when you’re ready. There’s something I want to show you.”
Obediently eating her sandwich, Amanda watched her grandmother leave from the back door. Was this family reunion with her deceased grandma really happening?
Perhaps she should pinch herself to see if she was dreaming. She grabbed her arm and started to tug at her skin but hesitated. “The only problem is . . . I don’t want to wake up.” She reached down and petted the soft tabby that was now lying at her feet.
She finished her sandwich and headed outside to find her grandmother. The fog was twice as thick in the backyard. It resembled the pockets of fluffy clouds one would see from the window of an airplane. “How does anyone get anything done with all this fog to navigate around? It would drive me absolutely insane.”
Her grandmother approached. “We manage. As I said earlier, we’ve gotten quite used to it.”
“It seems so.” She could make out the silhouette of an old man who appeared to be walking around the house. “Is that Grandpa? Where’s he going?”
“Not far. He just wants to let someone else know that you’re here with us.”
“Here?” Amanda repeated. “Grandma, where exactly is ‘here’?”
“That boyfriend of yours is quite a handsome man,” Betty said.
Was her grandmother dodging her question? Amanda sighed. “Not you, too. He’s not what he seems. Trust me.” She raised an eyebrow. “Wait. You’re talking about Tate, aren’t you? How do you know him?”
“Oh, we’ve been watching.”
“Sorry?”
“Come, let’s take a peek at what we’ve been watching, shall we?” She motioned for Amanda to follow her even deeper into the thick fog.
“You want to go in there?” Had her grandmother lost her mind? “Grandma, I can’t see two feet in front of me. I know you’re used to this, but I won’t know where I’m going. I nearly trampled your cat earlier.”
“Don’t worry. We’re going in together.” Betty took Amanda’s arm and guided her slowly. Cool mist hit Amanda’s face as she tried to focus her eyes.
“Where are we?” She could make out the outline of an apartment building. Turning around, she could no longer see her grandparents’ house.
“I don’t understand. When did they build an apartment complex behind your . . .” Her voice trailed. She took a step backward and rubbed her eyes. Were they playing a joke on her or was that Tate sitting on the front steps? She frowned as Lacy joined him. “I don’t think I want to see any more.”
“I see you recognize where we are?” Betty asked.
“I don’t know how this could even be possible, but we’re in front of my assistant’s apartment building. What we’re watching happened two days ago.”
“You are correct.”
“Grandma, I don’t understand. Can they see us?”
“No. They can’t hear us either. Let’s listen.”
Amanda crossed her arms around her. “Yeah, this should be good,” she said coolly.
“Hi,” Tate said to Lacy, moving over for her to join him on the stairs.
“Hi,” Lacy said, taking a seat.
“Some year, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s one way to describe it.”
Amanda walked over and stood in front of them. “Worst year of my life."
“Dear, they can’t hear you,” Betty interjected. “Just listen.”
Tate continued to speak to Lacy. “Do you really think it’s a good idea?”
“I do.” Lacy giggled, in a Tate, you’re such a hopeless romantic kind of way.” She tugged on his suit. “You know, eventually you’re going to have to tell her the truth.”
“What truth?” Amanda said.
Tate smiled at Lacy. “I know. I think I’ve got it all planned out. I’m going tell her this weekend, just before Christmas dinner.” He chuckled. “I just need to get her to invite me home first.”
“Well, if I know you, you’ll think of something. Happy holidays, Tate. I hope you get your Christmas wish.” They hugged.
The embrace that Amanda had walked out on. She glanced at her grandmother. “So am I to understand he came up with this idea because he has feelings for me? Since when?”
Her Grandma nodded. “I think we need to go further back in your story for you to understand his motivations.”
“Story?”
“Your love story.”
“With Tate? It’s not that long, and it’s over.” Amanda followed her grandmother back into the mist. “And I’d hardly call it love. More like a stupid and temporary lapse in judgment.”
They left the apartment building and were deep into the fog once again. She strained her eyes, making out a gas station and a highway. “Where are we now?”
“Shhh . . . You always were the grandchild who asked the most questions. Probably why you became an anchor.”
“You know I’m a journalist?”
“Sure do. Pretty good one. Glad you finally busted that crooked mayor of yours. Now just watch and listen. It’s very important that you listen to this conversation.”
“Fine.” At least her grandmother wasn’t telling her to open her eyes like her other grandmother had. “Wait. Is that the gas station on Main Street in Hammondsport?” She saw her dad talking to a strange woman. They were both pumping gas. He looked different. So much younger . . .
She gasped as her gaze shifted to her father’s truck and the young girl inside. “That’s me? How was her grandmother able to take her back in time like this, and what did this memory have to do with Tate?