After breakfast in the hotel coffee shop the following morning, Jen and Candy made their way downstairs to the Pure Nirvana spa. They changed into fluffy white robes and waited in a dimly lit room to be called for their massages. Celtic music drifted out of the speakers and water poured over a sculpture that looked like a granite washboard. “I hate this music,” Jen frowned, “and I’m fucking Irish. And this tea! It tastes like dirt, old dirt.” She put down her cup and sighed. 

Candy reached over and patted her hand. “Forget the music and the tea. We’re here to relax.”

After 90 minutes of shiatsu with Helga? Hilda? Heidi?, Jen’s muscles lost their tightness. She floated, loose-limbed into the locker room. Candy was already dressed. “Jen, you look as relaxed as I feel. Gawd, that was so good. But now I’m hungry, let’s go eat.”

After a leisurely lunch, Jen and Candy checked out of the inn. They drove north along the rugged Sonoma coast. The summer fog lent everything a soft, pearly haze over the slate-gray Pacific. They leapfrogged the various state beaches. Arched Rock Beach that didn’t have an arch. Marshall Beach that did. Goat Rock State Beach. They wandered Shell Beach where low tide revealed tide pools studded with anemones and sea palms but no shells. Gold bubbled kelp littered the shoreline; a fishy smell wafted from the seaweed.

“Whew, walking in sand is a workout!” Candy flopped down and leaned against a boulder. “Yeah, I need a break,” Jen sat next to her. Huddled together on the sand, Jen and Candy sifted sand through their fingers and watched graphite waves slide in and out. Sea lions barked. Gulls shrieked. Neither Jen nor Candy spoke for a long while, lost in the easy quiet that close friends share. Finally, Jen broke the silence. “You know, the ocean smells different here, like brine and seaweed. In Hawaii, the sea smells like flowers with just a hint of salt.” Candy smiled. “I’d like to see Hawaii sometime.” Jen nodded. “You will, you do.”

Late that afternoon, Candy and Jen pulled into Jenner, where the Russian River spilled into the Pacific Ocean. The rural beach town boasted a single restaurant, a gas station/curio shop, a post office, and a scattering of weathered gray cottages. One of the cottages sported a sign outside a picket fence that read Paradise B & B. A board declared “VACANCY”  and hung on two hooks below the sign. It squeaked back and forth in the gusty wind blowing from the sea. Candy turned into the driveway and parked. “Home for tonight. Let’s check in and take a hot tub before going out for dinner.”

Jen shivered as she got out of the car. “Great idea! I’m frickin’ freezing.”

******

River’s End restaurant opened for dinner at 5:00; Candy and Jen were among the first customers. They downed steaming French onion soup topped with melted gruyere, ladled inside crusty bread bowls. Outside, fog swirled around the cafe like a misty serpent. Oak logs crackled in the fireplace. Rivulets of condensation dripped down the window panes. Jen stared at the moisture, as if it held answers.

Their server, Mona, cleared the table and brought a second glass of wine for each of them. “Dessert, ladies?” asked Mona. “Sure,” Candy said, “one hot apple pie with rum sauce and two forks.”

Candy turned back and rapped her knuckles on the table. “Hello. Earth to Jen. Talk to me.”

Jen massaged her temples. “I keep going over it in my mind. I’m trying to figure out how I got back here to 1981. I got on the flight in 2015. I got off in the past. Did we go through some wormhole or something with the plane? Not that I really even know what a wormhole is. But if that happened, I wouldn’t be the only one - there’d be two hundred some odd people freaking out.”

Mona brought their pie and a check with two cellophane-wrapped pillow mints on top. “Just pay when you’re ready, no rush,” she smiled.

“Thanks.” Candy smiled back. Jen went on, “I felt a little funny in the jetway, sort of dizzy. But we all walked off the plane through the same jetway. So could what happened have only happened to me?” Jen pushed the pie away. “It’s driving me nuts. I know I didn’t dream the rest of my life. And while everybody says they wish they were young again, they have no idea how weird this all is.” Tears slipped out of the corners of Jen’s eyes. “I just want to go home. I mean not home, home. Just back to 2015. To my hot flashes and bum knee and dry skin and Daniel. “Who’s Daniel?” asked Candy. “My golf-obsessed husband. I miss him. I miss my life.”

“Oh my god, there’s so much I don’t know about that older version of you. I’m still not ready to believe all of this. I’d hate to feed into your delusions if that’s what they are. My head is starting to hurt, trying to figure out if I should take you back to the hospital. Or to a shrink. And yet. You seem completely sane to me. Not sure what that says about me, maybe I need the psych consult.” Candy shook her head. “Forget it for now. Let’s go back to the B and B and turn in early. Plenty of time to worry about all this tomorrow.”

**********

Monday morning dawned clear and bright. Points of light danced on the waves as sanderlings dashed to and fro at the water’s edge. Candy and Jen drove further up the coast. They picked up deviled egg salad sandwiches at the Crossroads deli. The air was chilly even without the summer fog bank. “Brrr, let’s eat in the car,” Candy said. “You won’t get any argument from me,” Jen said. They meandered back to Santa Rosa through the Russian River resort towns, arriving at Candy’s house in early evening.

“Let’s just heat up some frozen Stouffer’s lasagna for dinner. We have to get up early for work tomorrow,” Candy said.

“Work!  No. Absolutely not.” Jen shook her head and paced the living room. “I told you, I can’t work! I haven’t practiced as a nurse in 20 years! I don’t remember anything. I’d be useless at the very least, dangerous at worst.”

Candy spoke in a soothing voice. “Don’t worry. You’re the head nurse. You can go to your office and do scheduling, budgeting, and administrative tasks. If you end up helping with any patient care, I will be right there with you. And it will come back to you…”

“Don’t you dare say that it’s just like riding a bicycle. I was never any good at bicycling.”

“I’ll wake you at 5:30. You can shower and eat breakfast, then we’ll drive in together.

That night Jen lay awake, the sound of her blood rushing in her ears. Moonlight streamed in through the window next to the bed. I’ll never get to sleep tonight. I always joke that it’s a good thing I’m no longer responsible for people’s lives. And now, I just might be. Shit. She shut her eyes against the silver glow striped across the bed.

*******

A knock sounded at the door; Candy slipped in quietly. “Rise and shine.” She set a steaming mug of strong coffee on the bedside table. “Mpffff,” said Jen with her arm over her eyes, “what time is it?” “5:30. Time to get up. I pressed your lab coat.” Candy waved at her. “Drink up and get showered. Breakfast in 15 minutes.”

Jen sat up and scrubbed at her face. Oh god, oh god, oh god. This cannot be happening. Please let this be a dream. Please let me wake up. She stumbled into the shower and turned the shower knob all the way to “H”. The bathroom filled with steam but Jen couldn’t seem to get warm. What I wouldn’t give for a good hot flash right about now! Supposedly those stop a few years after menopause but mine never did. Ditto the mood swings. And yet, right now I’d get down on my knees and thank the ethers to get back to that simplest of problems.”

Candy glanced at Jen as they drove to the hospital. “Stop chewing your nails. I’ve got your back.” Jen didn’t answer. They parked in the employees’ lot. Jen grimaced and followed Candy to the front door.

They rode the elevator to the third floor. “Hi guys. Another day at the salt mines.” Claire Fisher, head nurse of the 3rd floor medical-surgical unit waved. “Say hello,” Candy hissed under her breath. Jen tossed off a weak wave. “Hi, hello. Uh, great to see you, Claire.” Candy shook her head.

Their shoes squeaked on the glossy linoleum as they approached the end of a long hallway. Jen’s stomach roiled and she clenched her fists. She stood for a long moment before the pneumatic doors to the Coronary Care unit. Candy pushed the button to open the door and gave Jen a gentle shove. Jen’s heart beat fast enough that she thought she might need a cardiac monitor for herself. Slow, deep breaths. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up.

It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The central nurses’ station was dominated by a console filled with green on black EKG tracings. Monitor tech and ward secretary, Tammy Hightower, scanned the blips and pushed a button to record a specific one when she saw something out of the ordinary. “Hi, boss. Hi, Candy,” she said without taking her gaze from the monitor.

Six private rooms with large windows edged the unit in a “U” shape. The open end of the “U” led to a glassed-in office on the right, a clean room with fridge and coffee pot on the left. Further down the hall were the clean and dirty utility rooms. At the very end of the hall was the break room where report was given to oncoming shifts. There was seldom time to take an actual break in a critical care unit.

Staff nurses Jim and Shawna greeted her as if they’d just seen her a few days before. Which Jen supposed they had, at least in the year 1981.  Jim handed her a vacation request. Candy grabbed Jen and steered her to her glassed-in office cubicle.

“Stay in here for now. Skim the mail and look over your folders. I’ll bring you some coffee. And don’t worry, I’ll run interference if it’s needed.”

Jen sat down at her old desk. Files were separated in a metal organizer. She pulled the first one out and opened it. Budget. The columns of numbers swam before her eyes. Good lord, I’m not sure how to make sense of this. She squinted. Looks like I already finished it. Thank god.

She replaced it and flicked through the others. Critical Care Committee. Nursing Admin Meetings, Performance Reviews. Policies and Procedures, Staffing. Man, was I anal. They’re even in alphabetical order.

Jen pulled a tray marked “Inbox” closer to her. A stack of triplicate memos from Laboratory, Radiology, and other departments apparently awaited her reply. Jesus. Back in the dark ages. Email is so much more efficient. How on earth did we ever get anything done in a reasonable time frame? She grabbed a pen and scribbled a brief answer to the head of Radiology confirming an inservice class. Okay, that wasn’t too bad. In the next missive, the Radiology chief complained that Jen’s staff was rude to his phlebotomists. Well, if they’d come right away when we stay Stat, there wouldn’t be a problem. “I’ll talk to the staff. Thank you for reaching out,” Jen wrote. Blech. I hate being nice when it’s not deserved. Biomedical engineering wanted a time to check the telemetry monitors. Jen wrote, “I’ll check with Candy the charge nurse and let you know.” She saved the bottom copies of each memo and slid each reply into a manila envelope marked InterOffice Correspondence. She tossed the envelopes into the tray marked Outbox.

Jen leaned back in her chair. She could see most of the unit activity through her windows. Shawna and Jim bustled in and out of their patients’ rooms. An intern sat at the front desk and jotted orders into a patient’s chart. A pharmacy tech filled medication drawers.

It’s all so familiar - and not. It’s like I’m watching a film about my young self. I could almost believe it’s a dream. Except for the smells. They’re much too real. Alcohol, industrial cleaner, a rusty hint of blood, the faint electrical smell of EKG tracings. I’m really here. And I don’t know how I got here.

Jen grabbed a legal pad and a marker. A timeline. I need to write what happened from getting on the plane in Honolulu to getting off the airport bus and meeting Candy. Maybe then I can figure out what happened.

9:10 Depart Honolulu on United Flight 555 - on time

A rap on the door startled Jen. It swung open and a tall thin man walked in, a stethoscope draped around his neck “Hey Jen, got a minute?” Jen sighed and gestured to the other chair. “Sure, Dr. Shapiro. What is it you need?” He folded his lanky frame into the chair. “I’ve got this idea how we can improve the way we calibrate the arterial pressure lines - oh, hey are you planning a trip to Hawaii?” He poked his head forward and peered at her writing. “No, er yes, maybe,” Jen said as she pushed the legal pad aside. She picked up the marker and turned it over and over in her hands. “Let’s hear it.” Dear god in heaven. Please spare me from another of Lou’s crazy-ass ideas. I ought to get hazard pay for listening to doctors who wish they were inventors or engineers.

**********

The morning and afternoon sped by. Jen’s heart rate slowed to near normal as she realized that she could handle the little that was required of her. Still, she didn’t release a full breath until the pneumatic doors whooshed closed behind her and Candy at the end of their shift.

In the elevator, Candy turned to Jen. “Sonoma Burger sound good? We can pick up dinner on the way home.”

Jen sighed. “Sounds great but I’m supposed to watch my cholesterol, no wait, not now I guess. Oh shit. If I wasn’t crazy before, I soon will be! Sure burgers and fries and shakes, why not? Comfort food is the only thing that makes any sense right now.”

Candy patted Jen’s arm. “I’ve got your back, sister. You don’t need to be committed yet. Onward to grease and salt.”

After a long, hot shower, Jen smoothed scented lotion over her limbs, marveling at her tight skin.  She opened her suitcase and held up a pair of jeans. These are about three sizes too big, no way I can wear these. She glanced down and patted her flat stomach. I could get used to this. Better get something out of the closet that might actually fit.

Bemused, Jen shuffled through hangers. Laura Ashley corduroy. And Land’s End sweaters. I was such a little preppy. I would feel stupid wearing these. Not age- appropriate at all. Better stick to jeans. Jen pulled a pair of black Levis off a hanger. Size 6?!?! I haven’t seen size 6 since I can’t remember when. She pulled them on and snapped the brass Levi stud. Perfect fit.

She wandered out to the kitchen, where Candy was just hanging up the phone.

“OK, it’s all settled - you and I are off work for the next three days. There’s plenty of staff to cover on Monday and the unit isn’t all that busy. I told them about your possible concussion and that I was taking care of you.”

“Work? - I can’t possibly go to work in the CCU again! I haven’t practiced nursing in over 20 years! I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Jen paced back and forth and wrung her hands.

“Shhh, let’s not worry about that just now. Let’s go out to the coast for a little R and R just like we planned - well, we planned it in this decade anyway.”

Candy coughed and her brow furrowed. After a moment, she straightened in her chair, folded her hands in her lap, and smiled. “So here’s the plan. I’ve booked us a room at the Fireside Inn in Bodega Bay. We’ll walk on the beach, eat some fresh fish, and give ourselves a break from all this, whatever this is that’s happening. I’ve also booked massages and seaweed wraps at the hotel spa tomorrow. Then we’ll head up the coast to Jenner. For a day or two, at least, let’s not analyze this or try to figure it out. Let’s take a couple days off from everything. Maybe, it will all be clearer then.”

************************************************

Dappled light flicked shadows onto Jen and Candy through the Volvo’s open moonroof. Jen threw her head back and inhaled the salt-tinged air as they sped out Highway 12 toward the coast. The mid-summer sun warmed her skin.

They drove past dairy farms and Gravenstein apple orchards. The tawny hills were dotted with gnarled, live-oak trees. Candy and Jen stopped at a roadside stand on the outskirts of Sebastopol for coffee and apple turnovers.

Jen looked around. “You know, most of these orchards are gone now. Boutique vineyards have taken their place. it’s a real shame.”

Candy scowled and shook her head. “I thought we agreed not to talk about this for now.”

“Then I guess you don’t want to know that Volvo gets bought by Ford and then some Chinese company.”

“I mean it, Jen Jen. Knock it off!”

Jen flung her hands up. “Right, sorry. Thinking out loud. Won’t happen again.”

She turned to look at Candy and mimed a key locking at her lips.

***********************************

Fog shrouded the trees in mist; the temperature dropped twenty degrees as they neared the coast. Candy closed the moonroof. “Welcome to Northern California in summertime,” she said, “colder than a witch’s thorax!” Jen laughed. “You can say that again, sister. Good thing you reminded me to bring extra warm clothes!”

Candy and Jen checked into the hotel and unpacked.

Jen layered a turtleneck under a wool sweater.

“Lord, I almost forgot how cold it is at the coast in July. It was 85 degrees when I left Hawai`i.” Jen slumped back on the bed and covered her eyes. Candy sat next to her.

“What is it? Does your head hurt?”

“Yes, but not from the bump. I’m just having such a hard time accepting all this, any of this. I mean, it’s just not possible. I keep thinking that this has gotta be a nightmare and I’ll wake up soon. But even my most epic dreams don’t go on this long. And they sure aren’t this detailed. I don’t see how this could have happened, my mind just keeps going around in circles, not getting anywhere. Maybe I am nuts! Maybe I need a psych eval after all.”

“Jen Jen, I don’t pretend to understand this either, but I know we will get through this somehow.”

“How?”

“I don’t exactly know that yet. Maybe put one foot in front of the other. Come on, let’s take a walk and clear our heads.”

“Oh, like that’s even possible.” Jen pushed off the bed and followed Candy to the door.

***********

The two young women strolled through the tiny town. They wandered in and out of shops where beach paraphernalia and shells littered display windows. Candy bought a bright butterfly kite in the Big Wind Kite Emporium.

Jen caught Candy’s concerned facial expressions when she thought Jen wasn’t looking. She doesn’t really believe me. Heck, I wouldn’t if it were the other way around. Still, she’s got my back, that much I know. I’m so grateful.

“Want to drive back to Bodega town and see the schoolhouse that was in Hitchcock’s movie The Birds?” Candy asked.

“Oh god, no! It creeps me out just to think about it.”

Candy shivered. “Yeah, me neither. I still get creepy Tippi Hedren vibes out there.”

“I know. Me too! I think I was eight years old the first time I saw that movie. It scared the shit out of me then and it scares the shit out of me even now.”

Candy laughed.

“You’ve never been able to handle scary movies - remember when I took you to see Carrie?”

“Oh, god. I didn’t sleep a wink all night!”

“Neither did I, you insisted on coming in and out of my room after the movie. You kept hearing noises and having me check the house and backyard for intruders. Damn that Stephen King anyway.”

Jen began laughing, too. A minute later, they grabbed one another’s hands and gasped for air between bouts of giggles. They would stop for a moment, but one of them would snort and set them off again. After what seemed hours, they collapsed on a bench fronting the sidewalk, chests heaving. Tourists hazarded sidelong glances, then stepped past them.

“Oh my god, Candy. I haven’t laughed that hard in years. Literally years.”

“Me either. I feel like I’ve had an aerobic workout! Speaking of which, I’m getting hungry - let’s go have dinner at the Rusty Scupper. We can watch the boats and the windsurfers on the bay. They have a great wine selection there, and hey, we’re walking, so we can indulge.’

Candy raised her open palm to Jen who pushed it with her fist, knuckles first. Candy raised her eyebrows. Jen shook her head. “Never mind.”

****************

The interior of the Rusty Scupper was dim. Tables were only half-filled, the dinner rush yet to start. Outside the panoramic windows, windsurfers skipped and dashed over the waves; an occasional wetsuited hotshot performed a full 360 -degree flip in mid-air. The bright sails looked like butterflies dipping and dodging spray flowers for nectar. A lone sailboat putt-putted into a slip in the marina. Firelight glinted off glassware and china. Candy and Jen inhaled the briny smells of fresh oysters and grilled fish.

“Two for dinner? Right this way, ladies.” The hostess showed them to a table next to the fireplace. “Can I start you out with something to drink?” she asked.

Candy nodded. “Yes, Clos du Bois Merlot for me and Sonoma Cutrer Chardonnay for her.” 

“Very good. I’ll be right back.”

The hostess dropped off their wine. “Your server will be right with you.” 

Candy lifted her glass. “To us. May our friendship last ’til we’re old and gray.” Jen winked. “It does. And I’ll still drink to that.” They clinked glasses, sipped, and leaned back in their chairs. Murmured conversation swirled around them in the restaurant. The flames from the fire warmed them as much as the wine.

A trim blonde in black pants, starched white shirt, and bow tie strode up to their table. “Hi, I’m Becky. I’m your server tonight. Our specials are blackened swordfish with au gratin potatoes and linguini with clam sauce. Do you have any questions about the menu?”

“Yes,” Jen said, “do you have any gluten-free pasta?”

“Excuse me?” The waitress frowned.

“Never mind. I’ll live dangerously. Give me the linguini. And another glass of Sonoma Cutrer, please.” She lifted her wine glass to her lips.

Candy cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t mind my friend - she’s not from here.” Jen gasped mid-swallow, coughed several times, and turned red. She buried her face in her napkin.

Candy smiled and handed the waitress her menu. “ And I will have the swordfish and another glass of Merlot.”

Becky nodded. “Very good. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

*********************************

An hour later, they pushed back their plates.

Jen groaned. “Oh my god, that was so good. There’s definitely something to be said for full-on gluten. I’m stuffed.”

“Me too.” Candy squinted at her empty glass. “Let’s have one more glass of wine, though.”

“Ok, but I’ll have to skip dessert. I’m way over my caloric norm.”

Candy snorted. “Yes, you must weigh all of 120 pounds. Better watch your weight.”

Jen looked down at herself. “I keep forgetting that I’m slim again. Hashtag the world is upside down.”

“Oh god, don’t tell me. Another blast from the future.” Candy folded her napkin in half and pressed it flat with her hands. “Listen, I know I said we wouldn’t talk about this. And I’m not saying I totally believe you traveled back in time. Because that would mean we are both living in crazy town. But suspending all disbelief for a minute, can I ask you some questions? If nothing else, it might be entertaining.”

“Sure, shoot.”

Becky began to clear the dishes. “Do you ladies want dessert? We have New York cheesecake and homemade bread pudding that is out of this world.”

Jen shook her head. “No thanks, but we will take another glass of wine each.” “Very good,” Becky nodded and left. Jen turned her attention back to Candy. “You had questions?”

Candy drew circles in the condensation from her water glass. “Yes, um, I was wondering, uh, do I marry Mark?” Candy’s boyfriend managed a boutique winery off Mark West Springs Road. Logs snapped in the fireplace and the flames reflected in the flatware.  A low hum of conversation drifted through the restaurant.

Jen hesitated. “Are you sure you want to know this?”

Candy nodded slowly.

Jen blew out her breath. “No, you don’t marry him, thankfully.  He’s an asshole. He breaks up with you, right after he makes the 100 most eligible bachelor list in San Francisco magazine. Man, they must have been scraping the bottom of the barrel for him to make the list. Anyway, he’s never been good enough for you.”

Candy stared at Jen, open-mouthed. “You never told me that!”

Jen half-smiled. “I know. I wasn’t sure I should. You know the rule, never tell your best friend that her choice in mates sucks.  Seeing how it all ends up, I feel ok telling you that now.”

“Crap, maybe I should break up with him first.”

“No, no, don’t do that. I’m not sure but I think that might really mess things up. In the future, I mean. Let him break up with you. That’s what happened - er will happen. Geez.”

“Okay, as long as we’re playing this game. What else happens? In the world, I mean.”

“Well, there’s a really big earthquake in San Francisco in a few years. 1989.  During the World Series. Part of the Cypress freeway collapses, cars fall in a hole in the Bay Bridge and there are fires in the Marina District.”

“Jesus. Wish I didn’t know that! Is there any way to warn people.”

“I doubt it - why would they believe it?  And if we tell them I’m from the future, I’ll be in the psych ward before I can say Loma Prieta. Either that or when they find out that’s the epicenter, I’ll be accused of terrorism.”

“Damn. What else happens?”

“Well, Arnold Schwarzenegger’s elected governor of CA for two terms…,”

“Wait, what? The Terminator guy? Are you kidding?”

“Nope. The economy tanks under him and Jerry Brown is reelected. He puts CA back in the black.”

Candy waved her hand. “That’s enough. I don’t think I can take any more. I’d rather not know. Too much bad news.”

“Okay.” Then I won’t mention 9/11, the Iraq and Afghanistan never-ending wars.

“It’s not all bad. We elect our first African-American president. Twice! And he’s the best leader we’ve had in my lifetime, maybe ever! He instituted the Affordable Care Act, which is still not quite universal health care but a great first step. And next year, I’m pretty sure we’ll elect our first woman president. I can’t wait for that!”

Jen sobered. “But seriously, Candy, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my sixty-odd years, it’s that life continually surprises you. And that weirdly, we adapt.” She yawned. “Now, let’s go back to the hotel and get some rest.”

Chapter Four

Beeps and buzzers, hushed conversation, antiseptic smells, overwhelming whiteness. Jen blinked her eyes a couple of times, trying to focus. Rubber squeaked beneath her as she struggled to sit up. Fabric curtains created a small cubicle around her.

“You’re awake!” Candy jumped up from a chair and approached the gurney. “How do you feel?”

“Not sure, my head hurts. What happened?” Jen reached up to touch her forehead, encountering a bandage just above her right eye.

“You passed out. Twice. The second time, you pitched forward into the dashboard. So I brought you to the hospital. They’re concerned that you have a concussion and want to keep you for observation. Just overnight.”

“Oh, god no!” Jen grabbed Candy’s hand. “You’re a nurse, you can watch me, wake me every couple of hours or whatever. Just get me out of here!”

Curtains were pulled back, metal rings squeaking on the metal runner. A fresh-faced young man in a lab coat walked in; a stethoscope draped around his neck.

”Jesus,” Jen thought. “They’re letting babies be doctors now.”

“Hello, I’m Dr. Green. How are you feeling now, Ms. Sadler?”

“Fine, I just want to get out of here. Please.”

“Well, you have a nasty bump on your head. I’m worried about a concussion. But your friend here assures me she will observe you carefully and bring you back in at the first sign of worsening. You’re a nurse too, I understand.” He smiled as he shone a penlight into her eyes.

“Pupils equal and reactive to light, excellent.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“And now?”

“One.”

“OK, good. Do you know where you are?”

“I’m in a hospital ER.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jen Sadler.”

Now, can you tell me what day it is?”

“Saturday.”

“How about the date?”

“July 22.”

“Year?”

“2015.”

He frowned. “Not funny, Miss Sadler. You’re a nurse, you ought to know better.”He gestured to Candy. They stepped out into the corridor after pulling the curtain around the gurney.  Jen could hear bits of the conversation, as Candy pleaded her case.

…nasty contusion…not oriented to time…yes, but…will check… no, no problem.

They stepped back into the curtain cave. Jen opened her eyes wide, pretending to feel better than she did.

“Well?” she smiled.

“Ok, I think I can release you to go home with your friend.”

He turned to Candy. “Check her LOC and pupillary reaction every two hours, wake her if she falls asleep before this evening. Bring her right back if there are any behavioral changes or if she starts having nausea and vomiting.”

Chapter Five

Buckled back in the passenger seat, Jen exhaled, blowing her bangs straight up.

”I need caffeine in the worst way. Get me to a Starbucks!”

“What’s a Starbucks?”

“Oh for god’s sake. ! A coffee place.”

“Aroma Coffee Roasters is right down in Railroad Square. You know, where we always go.” Candy’s frown was back and her voice was hushed.

“Fine, great. Let’s just go there.”

**

Jen and Candy pushed through the glass doors into the boutique coffee shop. Jen stopped and inhaled. French Roast. Mocha Java. Kona Blend. Some people claimed that coffee made them jittery but she found that a strong cup of joe calmed her and soothed her jangled nerves.

They slid onto red naugahyde stools at the coffee bar that faced a huge, copper espresso machine. A chalk menu offered four coffee blends, latte, cappucino, mocha, and espresso. No macchiatos or frappucinos. No pumpkin spice or amaretto mint-chip add-ons. Just coffee.

Jen and Candy ordered large lattes and a pair of lemon poppyseed scones. Newspapers littered the pale wooden counter. Jen snagged one. She scanned the front page, then sighed and put her head in her hands.

Candy swiveled on her stool. “Ok, Jen. You’ve been acting really weird. Even before you hit your head. So, out with it. What’s going on?”

“This! This is going on!” She shook the newspaper at Candy as the barista slid frothy lattes and warm pastries before them.

“The date on this San Francisco Chronicle is July 20, 1981. And you! You’re driving your old car, you took me to our old house, you and I look like we’re in our early thirties.”

Candy frowned. “How else would we look?! I AM in my thirties, you’re twenty eight!”

“No! I’m not! I’m 62 years old.I hopped on a plane from Honolulu this morning to spend a week with my oldest, dearest friend. And now I’m here and everything is all mixed up!”

“Ok, we’re going back to the hospital right now. You need a head CT. Something’s seriously wrong.”

“Yes, something IS wrong, but it’s not what you think! I’m fine, but all this,” Jen gestured at the coffee shop window, “it’s all in the past. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Jen put her head down and sobbed. Candy handed a fistful of napkins to her and rubbed her back in little circles.

“Shhh. It’s going to be ok. Take it easy, Jen Jen. We’ll figure this out.”

Chapter Five

Jen insisted on going back to their house after a stop at Raley’s for groceries and two bottles of Sonoma County’s finest. Jen walked through the front door and stopped. “Oh wow. It’s like a time capsule.” She ran her fingers along the chapel bench beside the front door. “So beautiful,” she murmured.

Candy grimaced. “I’ll go put these groceries away and meet you in the garden. Do you want some hot tea?”

“No. I want the chardonnay we bought.”

“You know, you shouldn’t be drinking when you might have a concussion.”

“I’m fine, trust me. Fine physically anyway.”

Jen dragged her suitcase past the living room and dining area to her old bedroom. She stopped at the door. Aqua and rose. I chose those colors after a trip to the Southwest. Sure looks tacky now. Maybe I’m dreaming. Or hallucinating. She squinched her eyes shut tight. Then opened them again. It’s all still here. Wherever here is. There has got to be a rational explanation for all this. Other than I’ve gone completely bonkers. Though if I have, at least Candy is here with me. She shoved the suitcase in the corner. I’ll unpack later.

Jen and Candy settled on the back patio with full goblets.

Candy jumped up, penlight in hand.“Wait, let me check your pupils again before you imbibe. Okay, equal and reactive to light. Any nausea? Are you dizzy?”

“No and no. Can I take a sip now?”

“Yes.” Candy dropped into her chair and lifted her own glass.

“It all looks just like I remember it,” Jen said in a breathy voice. “The garden, the house, the creek. I’m not sure I appreciated it as much as I should have.” She snorted. “Looks like I have another chance, welcome to Groundhog Day,” Jen took a healthy swig of her wine.

Candy had been frowning since they left the coffee bar. “Jesus, Jen. You’re really freaking me out. To tell the truth, I don’t know whether you need a brain scan or a psych eval.”

Jen snorted. “Right now, a concussion sounds like a lesser evil than what is actually happening. Listen, just listen. I’ll tell you everything I know starting with leaving home this morning.”

The wine bottles were a little more than half empty; the remains of a pepperoni pizza lay on a platter. Jen and Candy sat on wrought iron chairs in a lush garden. The sun dipped behind the trees, ready to drop into the evening fog bank. A few bees hummed around fuchsia blossoms in hanging baskets. Wind chimes tinkled softly.

Candy twisted her glass round and round in her hand. “So what you’re telling me is that you started out this morning in the year 2015? In Honolulu? And now you are here in 1981. Which by the way, is where you were yesterday and the day before from my perspective. Forgive me if I have a hard time believing any of this.”

Jen shook her head. “I know it’s hard to believe - it’s hard for me! I woke up 62 years old and now I’m back to being 28. At least, my body seems to be 28, my mind feels like post-menopausal me.”

Candy reached for the bottle of Merlot and poured a healthy portion. “OK, for the sake of argument, let’s just assume everything you’ve said is true and you’ve traveled back from the future. Can you prove it?”

Jen sat quietly for a few moments, then grabbed her purse. She pulled out her wallet. “Oh, no. this is my old driver’s license; it expires in 1984.” She rifled through the wallet. Old credit card, old nurse’s license. How can this be?”

******

“That proves it. You’re not really from the future. Something else is happening, a concussion, a breakdown, a brain injury. Something normal.”

“Wait. I can’t explain the changes in my wallet unless something happened to it as well as me. But I do have proof.” Jen pulled out her iPhone and handed it to Candy. “Here. This is my phone. It’s actually a tiny, high-powered computer made by Apple. I get weather, email, news, and surf the internet on it.”

Candy turned the object over and over in her hand. “What’s the internet? What’s email?”

Jen groaned. “Oh, god. I am so screwed.”

********************

Candy shook her gently and set a steaming cup of coffee on the bedside table.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Jen opened her eyes. “Ouch, that sun is too bright. And my head hurts.” She touched the bandage above her eye and jerked to a sitting position.

“Oh, god, Candy. You still look thirty. I was hoping yesterday was just a bad dream. Or even a psychotic break. Anything but this.”

Candy handed her the cup. “Caffeine first. Talk later. I’ll go make breakfast.”

Alone, Jen inhaled the steam and sipped her coffee. At least that hasn’t changed. The first sips of java are still the best! She looked around. It’s my old room, alright. Talk about dated. Although I guess it’s not really dated if I really am in 1981. Oh lord. What am I going to do?

*****************************************

Candy stacked the breakfast dishes in the drainer and grabbed the coffee pot “Want some more go-juice?” she asked, pouring full cups for herself and Jen without waiting for an answer. She pulled up a chair across from her friend and fixed Jen with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well?”

Jen sighed. “You still don’t believe me. And honestly, I don’t blame you. It sounds crazy. Hell, it is crazy. I don’t understand this at all. But I swear it’s the truth.”

Candy leaned forward and clasped her hands. “You know that old medical saying? If you hear hoofbeats, look for horses, not zebras? In other words, the ordinary diagnosis is most likely, not the exotic one? Given that, it’s far more likely that you are having a breakdown or suffering an LSD flashback than that you traveled back in time.”

Jen opened her mouth. Candy held up her right hand to stop her.

“Just a minute, I’m not finished. The thing is, zebras DO exist - and while this is the most outlandish excuse for a zebra I could imagine, I can’t say for certain that your story isn’t true.That little device you showed me does indeed have the logo for Apple computers on it. I can’t quite explain that away. That said, I’m going to continue to monitor you for symptoms of any horses just to rule them out. Fair enough?”

Jen nodded. She grabbed for Candy’s hand and let the tears flow.

Honolulu, Hawaii July, 2015

Before she boarded that plane, Jennifer would have said that she loved Change, lived for it, craved it like oxygen. But that was before.

Prologue Sept. 1981

The sky over the Sonoma Memorial Medical Center parking lot was dove-gray, the last of the light not helping at all. Inside the Coronary Care Unit, the light was always the same. There was no way to tell weather or time of day.  Candace Spring, the Charge Nurse, tried not to look at the big clock. It didn’t matter. Another average shitstorm was on its way. In fact, it had just arrived.

Two Emergency Room nurses slammed through the CCU double doors. Candy pointed to a glass-walled room,  “Bed 3 is all set up, including the vent.” Joyce and Michi raced the gurney into the room. “One. Two. Three.” They helped Candy heave the patient onto the bed and hook up IV lines, monitoring equipment, and a mechanical ventilator. Candy scanned the monitor readouts and jotted numbers on a flow sheet. “What’s the story?”

”White male, 25 years old, brought in by friends,” Michi said.  “He collapsed at a winery on the Russian River. Temp 104, heart rate 136, bp 90/50, unresponsive to stimuli. No known allergies or any history of chronic illness.”

“Jesus!” Candy said.  “This guy is in shock - why?!”

The ER nurses backed the gurney out of the room. “Don’t know, darlin’. Sorry, gotta go. It’s a full moon and the ER is an effing zoo. Both of us gotta work doubles as it is. Good luck!”

Jen Sadler, head nurse, had moved in next to Candy. Tears poured down her face. 

Candy put her hand on her best friend’s arm. “What’s the matter, Jen?” Do you know him?”

Jen wiped her eyes.  “No, no, no, I can’t go through all this again. I just can’t.”

****************************************

Chapter One:   July 2015 

Jen Sadler stared out the window of the wide-body jet. Waikiki and Diamond Head slipped beneath scattered clouds as Honolulu disappeared from view. 

A voice filled the cabin. “ Welcome aboard, folks. This is your captain speaking. Our flying time to San Francisco will be slightly under five hours. We’re expecting a smooth flight with just a few bumps midway. As always, keep your seat belt fastened when seated on the off chance we encounter some unexpected turbulence. Now, sit back and enjoy the ride along with the superb service from our flight attendants.”

Jen wanted to get out and push the plane faster. She was on her way to a long overdue vacation, to pal around with her best friend in Northern California and revisit the scenes of their youthful crimes. She looked forward to stories, laughter, and lots of good wine. Daniel could get along without her for a week; it would probably do him good. it certainly would do her good. Maybe it’s just her. Maybe it’s menopause. Or maybe it really is her husband. All she knows is that they seem to be on divergent paths these days coming together only for the rare collision. She wondered when it all changed. When did they start to spend less time together. Why did they seem to have so little in common anymore? She liked to sit under an umbrella and read on Kaimana beach after a leisurely breakfast at the New Omani. Daniel couldn’t sit still and would run on the packed sand near the shore or swim out to the breakers. Maybe she should try harder, walk or swim with him some of the time. But dear god, if she has to listen to one more excruciatingly detailed account of his golf game, she will put him out of her misery. She sighed and reclined her seat. Maybe this trip will be a reset. Maybe that’s all I need.

One meal service, three trips to the bathroom, and two forgettable movies later, the captain announced, “We are making our final descent, ladies and gentlemen. We’ll be on the ground in just a few minutes. Flight attendants, please secure the cabin.”

The senior flight attendant leaned over and smiled. “Put your seat back up, please, Miss.”

Jen grinned back as she pushed in the armrest button and the seat raised to a marginally more uncomfortable position. “Thanks for calling me miss instead of ma`am. You just became my new best friend!”

The flight attendant winked. “Hey, we more seasoned gals gotta stick together.”

Jen gazed out the window as the plane descended.  Gray-green water spread beneath as far as her eye could focus. Flaps adjusted with a squeaky-hinge sound as the engines slowed. Just when it seemed prudent to grab the life vest from beneath the seat, the plane touched down on tarmac, bouncing once before settling.  The jet engines roared into reverse.

“Welcome to San Francisco where the local time is 4:00 pm. If this is your final destination, you can retrieve your luggage in baggage claim on Carousel # 2.  Thanks for flying the friendly skies. We know you have a choice of airlines and we appreciate you choosing United. Have a great day.”

The seatbelt sign dinged off. 200-plus passengers stood and jostled for hand luggage in the overhead bins. Jen didn’t move. She preferred to let the majority of the herd cram out the door before leaving her seat. When at last the crush subsided, she crab-walked from her window seat to the aisle.

She grabbed her carry-on from the overhead space and strolled toward the exit. She nodded at the flight attendant and took a few steps into the jetway.

A wave of dizziness swept over Jen and she scrabbled at the wall in an attempt to stay upright. Spots swam before her eyes; waves of nausea enveloped her.

“Are you alright, Miss?” A stocky, young man in a blue jumpsuit with an ID badge necklace grabbed her elbow. Jen gulped a few deep breaths and tried to focus. She pushed off the wall and held her palm up as if to ward him off. ”Yes, sorry. Just got a little lightheaded for a minute. Maybe I’m coming down with something. I’m fine now, thank you.”

Jen stood for a moment, adjusted her purse, and steadied herself on her rollaboard. Taking a deep breath, she proceeded on wobbly legs up the jetway to the gate.

“Please God,” she sent a silent prayer. “Don’t let me get sick now. I’ve been looking forward to this for six months.”

Five flight attendants clustered near the gate. They were decked out in perky caps, blue and red A-line dresses, nylons, and three-inch heeled navy pumps.

“Wow, Interesting outfits - I guess retro is really in these days. Right down to the high heels. Oughta be some pushback from their union on that.” Jen shook her head.

First to the bathroom, then she’d text Daniel and let him know she’d arrived safely. While standing in line waiting for an open stall, she pulled her phone out of her purse. It slipped from her hand and landed face down on the tiled floor.

“Goddamnit,” she muttered under her breath, as she scooped it up and scanned it for cracks. The glass was unmarred. Jen sighed in relief. She tried to power the phone on, but the screen remained dark. Shit. Now she needed to go to an Apple Store. Wasn’t the nearest one in San Rafael? Sometimes the digital age was a pain in the ass.

Jen exited baggage claim twenty minutes later. She ran for the Santa Rosa Airporter bus and got on just before it left.

“Ticket, please.”

Jen pulled a prepaid ticket out of her wallet and handed it over. The driver stared at it for a few moments, then shrugged. “Ok, welcome aboard.”

Jen stowed her carry-on and slipped into a window seat. She leaned against the pane of glass and closed her eyes.

Chapter Two

Jen jerked awake as the Airporter lurched to a stop. Candy was waving from the parking lot. Jen squinted as she stepped from the bus and drew closer to her friend.

“What the hell, Candy? Did you discover the Fountain of Youth recently?” Jen stopped short as she approached her friend. Bouncy brown curls and golden retriever eyes, clear, taut skin, full lips. Candy looked to be on the shy side of thirty.

“Yeah, yeah, right. Come on, let’s go. Don’t want to waste our weekend off.” Candy grabbed Jen’s suitcase and began wheeling it toward a yellow Volvo sedan. Silver letters spelled 240DL on the right rear above the bumper.

“Hey, looks just like your old car. Love these old Volvos. But, no, seriously, did you have work done?”

Her friend tilted her head and frowned as she unlocked the car.

“I look the same as I did when you left the day before yesterday. Speaking of which, how was the cardiology conference. Did you get to meet Jeremy Swan?”

“What are you talking about? What conference?” Jen swayed and grabbed the door handle for support. She opened the door, side-slipped into the seat, and held her head.

“What’s the matter, are you all right?”

“No, no I’m not. Nothing makes sense right now.”

Jen leaned forward, flipped the visor mirror down, and gasped. Her unlined face was framed by shiny, ash blonde hair. Her heart began to race as she confronted her thirty-year old visage.

“What the fuck,” she thought just before she blacked out.

Chapter Three

Jen woke to a damp towel stroking her cheeks and forehead. A worried face loomed large and distorted in her field of vision. She pushed Candy away.

“What’s going on?!”

“I don’t know, you don’t seem like you have a fever. Your heart rate is a little fast, but that’s all. I think I’d better take you home and let you rest.”

“OK.” Jen leaned back against the headrest.

They pulled up to a small gray Victorian surrounded by redwood trees and backed by a creek.

“What’s going on? What are we doing here?” Jen’s voice was barely a squeak.

“OK, you’re scaring me now, Jen. Did you hit your head or something? We live here.”

“No, we don’t! We haven’t lived here in over 30 years. Jesus!” Sweat beaded on Jen’s forehead and everything went black for the second time that day.