Page 22 of Time Loops & Meet Cutes
“Yeah.” I swallow. She won’t remember this tomorrow, so if I don’t get it right, I can try again. “I judged you for the decisions you made. Your difficulty with keeping a job and… other things. I’m sure you were dealing with stuff that I didn’t understand, as well as a system that often doesn’t provide the help people need.”
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
When I get off the phone, I start watchingSuits.
But a few hours later, I wonder if that conversation with my sister will help get me out of the loop. In one of the books I read, the main character had to make amends, and I didn’t see how that could apply to me, but maybe this was it? The thing that would get me unstuck?
Unfortunately, at six forty-five the next morning, I conclude that it didn’t work.
AVERY: Did you escape June 20? Is that why I haven’t heard from you?
I stare at the text. Even while I was bingeingHouse, I made sure to text Avery every morning, but I forgot today, and I feeltoo discouraged for human contact. I’m about to put my phone aside and start another episode, but then I decide I should answer.
Better to respond now than to let weeks go by and feel like it’s too late to reply. I won’t let what happened with Veronica happen with Avery, especially since she’s the only person who’s stuck here with me. I’ll make an effort with our friendship.
My thumbs fly over the phone as I detail how my visit to the doctor went and what happened with my sister.
I spend the next several days watchingSuitsand occasionally going out to eat expensive food. I also teach myself to crochet—something I’ve always wanted to try but never got around to doing—with the help of YouTube videos. It’s probably for the best that my not-terribly-pretty efforts disappear overnight. I text Avery every morning, and sometimes we meet up for dinner.
To be honest, it’s kind of nice to have to veg out like this. I never take all my vacation days at my job.
But eventually, the workaholic in me gets hard to ignore. I feel like I have to start being productive. There’s no point in going to the office, but I should put more effort into escaping the loop.
My mind turns to Cam and then to dumplings. I should try to learn more about dumplings.Howwas I sent to this weird reality? And if I eat the right dumpling, will I get out of it?
Of course, “Toronto + dumplings” yields endless search results. Adding “time loop” results in significantly fewer, not surprisingly, but nothing seems promising.
Next, I search for “Toronto + magic + dumplings” and come across a dumpling shop in Chinatown called Magic Dumplings. It’s quite likely that when someone thought of this nameforty years ago—it’s been around for a long time—they didn’t mean it in the literal way that I’m hoping for. However, it’s worth a shot. I can also ask questions. Inquire if they’ve ever heard of dumplings sending someone into a time loop.
Having decided to go to Chinatown tomorrow, I find other places to try in the area. A place on Spadina (Tasty 8 Dumplings) will be my second stop, followed by a restaurant with soup dumplings that one reviewer claims “can cure any ailment.” I doubt @tangyass had my particular ailment in mind when they wrote that, but I’m getting desperate. I’ll try anything. Besides, stuffing myself with dumplings is no hardship.
Actually, I’m rather looking forward to it.
AugustCam
“Okay, that’s it. I’m beat.” I brush my hand over my forehead and make an exaggerated “phew” sound.
The flower girl, fortunately, lets me off the hook. She’s had me literally spinning in circles for the last twenty minutes. I sit down as she pulls her mother up to dance. A slow song starts playing, but that doesn’t affect her energetic movements, and I chuckle.
On the other side of the dance floor, Darrell and his new wife, Keysha, are lovingly staring into each other’s eyes. Nearby, Justin is dancing with his new boyfriend.
This is the first time I’ve had more than a minute to myself all day, and I can’t help thinking of the fact that I always assumed I’d be married by this age. Not that I thought too much about the future—I mean, we have plans for our business, but that’s different—but I did idly assume that much. However, I’m not seeing anyone, and I haven’t dated for a little while. And as I step out of the big white tent, a sudden fear seizes me.
What if I missed her?
What if I was supposed to have met her by now, but I made a different decision that I thought was inconsequential at the time? Maybe I just left my apartment five minutes too late?
Not that I believe in fate, or that there’s only one person out there for everyone, but I can’t help wondering now.
Or maybe I should have danced with Darrell’s cousin, the one who seemed interested in me earlier?
I shove my hands into the pockets of my pants. Nah, that didn’t feel right, and I like to go with my gut.
I look up at the sky. There are more stars than I’m used to seeing. Darrell’s reception is at a brewery owned by one of our friends. It’s a little north of the city, and they have a lot more property than we do—it’s a better venue for a wedding reception than Leaside Brewing, though we’ve hosted a couple of small wedding receptions. As I’d hoped, it’s a beautiful day for a wedding. Not excessively hot and humid. Some clouds, but no hint of rain, and out of Toronto, the air seems to move better.
What if I missed her?
As I continue to look up at the stars, the thought won’t leave my head.
