Page 21 of Time After Time
Sebastian toyed with the pen, which had nothing particularly special about it, except that it happened to be my favourite for some inexplicable reason.
“We’re making a list,” he declared, then flopped onto the bed with a grunt, making me bounce. I barely had time to stifle it before a laugh bubbled up from deep inside, the sound catching in my throat.
The pen soon danced across one of the pages as he jotted down multiple bullet points. “Okay,” his focus remained on the notepad, while my attention drifted to his face, admiring his concentrated expression and noticing several new freckles on his skin. “Anything involving animals is a no-go.” I shifted my gaze back to the notepad. “You can’t stand to see animals suffer, and I don’t think farm work suits you.” The memory of Cooper had been both terrifying and amusing, and a bit cute, but it made me shake my head with a grimace.
As Sebastian continued to scribble, I leaned my head against my clenched fist, propping my right elbow on the mattress. Myfingers drummed idly on the bed’s surface, and I watched him intently, the tension in my posture betraying my curiosity.
“And you’re not too keen on creatures with wings either.” I winced as I remembered Sebastian’s sky-blue lovebird with its white and grey head. He had been training the bird and, eager to show off its skills, released it from its cage. The moment it was free, it flew straight toward me, pecking at my hair and head repeatedly. Sebastian scrambled to catch Squeak and get him back into his cage, but I ended up sobbing loudly, overwhelmed by the chaos.
We were about six or seven years old, and I was so scared that tears wouldn’t stop flowing, even though Squeak hadn’t done much. Seeing me like that, Sebastian’s eyes welled up, and soon he was crying too. His mother had to comfort both of us. That night, we stumbled upon a tradition that would stick with us for years: whenever one of us felt overwhelmed, we’d curl up under blankets with sweets, watching our favourite films over and over until things didn’t seem so heavy anymore.
“Not becoming a lawyer or a doctor,” I pointed at the page, leaning slightly forward but keeping my position so I could catch every detail of his expression as he read. “Those are incredibly demanding careers. I think you should be… passionately committed to pursuing one of those careers. You have to genuinely want it.” He lowered his gaze, nodding slowly, then began scribbling it down. “Honestly, anything with math is off-limits for me,” I muttered, frowning. No matter how many times I reviewed the formulas, they never quite clicked. Math just wasn’t my thing. “Can we find something that doesn’t involve studying?” I half-joked, letting out a long breath, as if the idea of it might be too much to bear.
Sebastian burst into laughter, his eyes nearly shutting as his shoulders shook with pure amusement. The sound was light, infectious, and before I knew it, I was smiling too, my own moodlifting with the echo of his laughter. “Pretty sure you need to study for just about every job,” he teased, grinning as he turned back to his notes.
“All right, listen up. We have owning your business,” he continued. I’d almost forgotten that Robert was going to teach us how to run a business in exchange for some waitressing shifts and help around the diner. “What about baking or cooking?” he asked, a teasing edge in his voice.
Admitting it felt embarrassing—I had never learned how. When our parents were away, leaving Sylvie and me to manage on our own, she would go out with her friends, and Sebastian would come over. He knew our kitchen like the back of his hand, moving through it effortlessly, always able to find exactly what he needed.
“We could give it a shot,” he said, his smile lingering as he watched for my reaction. For a moment, I pictured us both in the same apprenticeship. A ridiculous idea, given his incredible talent and how tough it was to get in.
“You’re also a talented painter. You’ve always had that gift,” Sebastian said, and I nodded, agreeing without hesitation. It was true—I’d always had a knack for painting, but it never felt like something I wanted to pursue professionally. Honestly, I hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in almost a year.
“You used to love painting buildings and landscapes. That skill could come in handy if you ever thought about architecture,” he continued. A new wrinkle appeared on my brow, and he quickly added, “I know it involves math, but let’s keep it on the table. We should explore all possibilities. Who knows?”
I sighed, but nodded reluctantly. “What about being an English or French teacher?”
“No,” I replied.
I had taught both English and French during a few summers to earn some extra money. English was my first language, but French came easily, thanks to my mum being half-French. In our small town, though, few were interested in learning a foreign language like French. And most of my English students were around my age or a little younger, struggling with their own English classes. With so few young people around, job opportunities were limited, and honestly, the experience hadn’t been all that fulfilling.
“Well, you could try being a translator,” he suggested. I raised my eyebrows, nodding, my expression softening. The idea wasn’t bad. It actually sounded like a decent option.
“Okay, now we need to figure out which ones we can try and where,” I started, but my words trailed off into a question.
Before Sebastian could respond, his phone buzzed on the bed beside us, lighting up with Rob’s name on the screen. He tossed the pen onto the notepad, then quickly lifted his phone to his ear, exchanging a few brief words full of affirmations and “of course” responses. After hanging up, he turned to face me.
“To answer your question, yes, we do need to figure out where to try some of those jobs. I’ve got a few initial ideas, but let’s start with one for now.” I sat up on the bed, intrigued, as Sebastian stood and moved toward his bag.
“What?”
“Do you have any plans for today?” he asked. I shook my head in response. “Perfect. Rob could use some help at the diner. Leo’s wife just went into labour, and Levi’s sick with a cold, so he needs extra hands.”
I pushed myself off the bed, my pulse quickening with the thought. “How about learning to run our own business in exchange for helping out at the diner?” His grin was infectious, and I couldn’t help but mirror it, my fingers tapping restlessly against my leg as excitement lit up my chest.
“Absolutely!”
Sebastian pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips barely grazing my skin. As he pulled back, his hand lingered at the back of my neck, fingers tracing the curve. He drew me in closer. His touch both firm and tender. “I’m going home to change into something more comfortable. You know the dress code: jeans and a white tee.”
“Tall white socks and white sneakers,” I said with a small smile, knowing it was the uniform for all the diner’s staff.
“I’ll be back in 15 minutes with the truck. Be ready.” He moved toward the door, then stopped and looked back at me, flashing a small smile before turning the handle.
“Seb!” My voice came out louder than I intended, making him pause with his hand still on the handle. He turned his head swiftly, his expression shifting from focused to curious. His brow knitting, his eyes searching mine for an explanation as he waited for me to continue. “Thank you.” I wasn’t sure if I showed my gratitude often enough. Did he really understand how much I appreciated everything he did? I hoped he did, but since I didn’t always say it out loud, I wanted to make sure he knew just how much it meant to me.
Sebastian’s smile spread wide, the biggest I’d ever seen, and for a moment, my heart felt lighter. “Anything.” It was a single word that left me puzzled. “Anythingfor you, wheels.”
Chapter 8
