Time and Again

walk?"
    "Yes, I would."
    They started off at a meandering pace, the bells Caroline wore at her wrists and ears jingling cheerfully.
    So much was the same, Libby thought. The trees, the sky, the quiet cabin behind them. And so much had changed. She leaned her head against her mother's shoulder for a moment.
    "Do you remember when we used to walk like this, you and Sunny and I?"
    "I remember walking with you." Caroline laughed as the branches arched overhead in a cool, green tunnel. "Sunny never walked anywhere. The moment she could stand she was off at a dash. You and I would poke along, just as we're doing now."
    And what would this child be like? Caroline wondered, feeling a fresh thrill of anticipation.
    "Then we'd pick some flowers or berries so that Dad would think we'd been doing something productive."
    "It seems both our men are sleeping in today." When Libby didn't respond, Caroline waited until the silence between them was comfortable again. The forest was alive with sounds, the rustling of small game in the brush, the call of birds in flight. "I like your friend, Libby."
    "I'm glad you do. I wanted you to." She bent to pick up a twig, then broke small pieces off as she walked. It was a nervous gesture Caroline knew very well. Sunny would let any and all feeling burst straight out, but Libby, her quiet, sensible Libby, would hold them in.
    "It's more important that you do."
    "I do, very much." Suddenly aware of what she was doing, Libby tossed the rest of the twig aside. "He's kind and funny and strong. This time I've had here with him, it's been wonderful for me. I never really thought I'd find someone who would make me feel the way Caleb makes me feel."
    "But you don't smile when you say that." Caroline reached up to touch her daughter's face. "Why?"
    "This- time we have- it's only temporary."
    "I don't understand. Why temporary? If you're in love with him-"
    "I am," Libby murmured. "Very much in love with him."
    "Then?"
    Libby drew a long breath. It was impossible to explain, she thought. "He has to go back, to his family."
    "To Philadelphia?" Caroline prompted her, at a loss.
    "Yes-" There was a smile now, faint and wistful. "To Philadelphia."
    "I don't see why that should make a difference," she began. Then stopped and put a hand on Libby's arm. "Oh, baby, is he married?"
    "No." She might have laughed then, but she noted the deep and genuine concern in her mother's eyes.
    "No, it's nothing like that. Caleb could never be dishonest. It's very hard to explain, but I can tell you that right from the start we both knew that Cal would have to go back where he belonged, and I- I would have to stay."
    "A few thousand miles shouldn't matter if two people want to be together."
    "Sometimes distance is, well, longer than it looks. Don't worry." Leaning over, she kissed Caroline's cheek. "I can honestly say that I wouldn't trade the time I've had with Cal for anything. There was a poster in the cabin when I was little. Do you remember? It said something about- if you had something, let it go. If it didn't come back to you, it was never yours."
    "I never liked that poster," Caroline muttered.
    This time Libby did laugh. "Let's pick some flowers."
    Libby watched them go a few hours later, her father behind the wheel of the rumbling pickup, her mother's earrings dancing as she leaned out of the window to wave until she was out of sight.
    "I like your parents."
    Libby turned to Cal, linking her hands around his neck. "They liked you, too."
    He leaned down for a brief kiss. "Your mother, maybe.".
    "My father, too."
    "If I had a year or two to win him over he might almost like me."
    "He wasn't scowling at you today."
    "No." He rubbed his cheek against hers as he considered. "It was down to a sneer. What are you going to tell them?"
    "About what?"
    "About why I'm not here, with you?"
    "I'll tell them that you went home." Because she made the effort, her answer sounded casual and easy.
    So easy that he nearly swore.
    "Just like that?"
    Her voice was a little brittle now, she knew, with a tone that could easily be taken as callous. "They won't pry if I don't want them to. It will be simpler for everyone if I tell them the truth."
    "Which is?"
    Was he determined to make it difficult? She moved her shoulders restlessly. "Things didn't work out, and you went on with your life. I went on with mine."
    "Yeah, I guess that's best. No mess, no regrets."
    Irritable, she thrust her fists in her pockets. "You have a better idea?"
    "No.