Ordering the stuffed animals balanced on the railing to meet her for tea at high noon.
I placed my free palm against my heart and let myself pretend.
Letting my dreams of motherhood dissolve to mist.
Pexels / Fancycrave
When I reached sixty seconds, I yanked the string to reveal a new image.
This time, a teenage boy sat on the edge of his unmade bed, packing his bong.
I pretended to be his aunt, stumbling in without knocking and catching him in the act.
Pressing a finger against my lips and promising not to snitch in exchange for a few hits myself.
I released the string, counted, and tugged again.
Now, a Yorkie padded through the grass, a cone wrapped around his mop of a head.
Pexels / Fancycrave
An oversized man stripped down for his shower, dropping his uniform onto the tiled floor.
A kid stood on his fathers feet and helped toss hamburgers on their gas stove.
An elderly woman clutched her chest.
Sunk to the ground.
Writhed and shook and gasped.
With eyes wide enough to hit the brows, I waited for somebody to help.
A neighbor, even.
Minutes ticked-ticked-ticked, but no one came to the old womans rescue.
She looked fragile, dying, dead.
I stroked my fingertips against the glass of the window.
I had never tried to enter a scene before.
Id called off the relationship.
If I succeeded in climbing through to the woman, what would I even do to save her?
I found myself doing exactly that.
I pulled the golden string to the right and let it catch so the blinds hung on their own.
I landed on the deep red carpet with a thump.
The woman had collapsed only a few feet away from me.
Close enough to touch.
I bolted back inside, dialed thepolice, and offered up the information.
A single rocking chair sat on the grass, its legs eclipsed with green.
That the grass would morph to white wood, that the rocking chair would transform into a leather loveseat.
I cursed beneath my breath, loud enough to send a flock of birds scattering.
I didnt know you knew Mrs. Maples.
I was just checking on her.
He lifted the skimmer over his shoulder and smacked out the mush.
If you have some time, why dont you stop over for a beer?
And I have hotdogs left over from the bonfire you bailed on last night.
Couldnt fit one more party into the schedule, huh?
My mouth open and snapped shut again.
Did he mistake me for someone else?
He pronounced my name right, but got the rest wrong.
My wild days had ended when my mother went missing, body never recovered.
Maybe when Im finished here, I said, hoping to shake off the conversation.
Give me a few minutes.
Front door is open.
Walk right through when you want.
I felt a rush of relief when the stranger slipped inside, out of view of my antics.
I crossed myself, praying that passing through the opposite way, from outside to inside, would work.
After counting aloud to sixty, I opened them back up to the same view.
I slammed the window shut and peeled it open.
Throw me behind bars for the night.
I could listen for the sirens while he made small talk.
When the ambulance left, I could sneak over and try the window one more time.
Clarissa, the man greeted when I stepped from his white wooden porch into the brown wooden foyer.
He held out the last vowel like a note.
Tell me how youve been.
Not great, though?
He stared at his phone, not me.
His finger danced up and down the screen, scrolling.
My head is a little foggy.
Still hungover from last night, I bet.
I havent drunk in years.
A laugh escaped from his lips.
Ill play detective if you dont want to talk.
He tapped on the screen.
When he finished, he looked up with rolling eyes.
You couldve admitted that.
He twisted his wrist so the screen faced me.
A tattooed twenty-something in a muscle shirt held the other end.
Almost as cute as my man, the neighbor said.
Did you sleep with him last night or are you seeing him again tonight?
I swiped the gadget from his hands.
Clicked on the profile attached to the photos.
Aside from a few adjustments on my education and friends list, the profile matched up with my life.
Some stranger made a fake account, pretending to be me.
She stole my identity.
A younger photo of me and my childhood dog snuggled on the couch.
A photo of me and my mother sipping Sangrias.
A photo of me and the bearded neighbor on what looked like hiswedding day.
I scrolled back to the photo containing my mother.
In it, she looked older than I had ever seen her.
Older than the age she had lived to see.
Did you photoshop these?
Where did these come from?
His eyes scrunched into pancakes.
Did you take something?
Are you on a trip right now?
The girl in the photos could have been a lookalike.
But with the same first and last name?
With a mother that looked identical to mine?
My professor had taught us about alternate universes in the philosophy class Id taken first semester ofcollege.
I had broken up with him over nothing.
Over a mistake, a mirage.
Can I borrow your car?
Fifty-five minutes later, I arrived with hopes that my AU lived in the same house.
The house I grew up in.
The house with the golden window.
The house sat on a small plot of land, a single story with cardboard covering every window.
A woman with brunette hair down to her ass and olive skin that glistened with sweat.
Me, from behind.
Hi there, I said after crunching up the path.
Have a few minutes?
Oh, wow, okay.
You know about me?
We can talk around back, she said, rising from her crouch.
I dont want to upset her.
She led me around a corner and toward a set of broken strapped lawn chairs.
I actually hoped youd come.
I keep having this daydream.
It sounds horrible, but I wanted you to come and swap lives with me.
Guess you wouldnt want my life though, right?
Mom is really inside?
She wouldnt want company.
Her tongue slapped against her lips.
Why did you climb through the window anyway?
You know theres no way back, right?
When I had first tumbled onto the carpet, I had a feeling that was the case.
That I had taken a trip through a one-way window without a return ticket.
I had been ignoring the idea, too terrified to consider it.
It would be a better life than back at home, even without the gold and jewels.
For five years, my mother was the missing piece in my life.
The reason Id lost my friends.
Lost my enthusiasm to live.
With her, I would feel okay again.
Thereisa way back, I said, itching my neck the way I did during lies.
I can show you.
We can swap if you want.
Her eyes doubled size inside their sockets.
Can you give me a day?
Give me a chance to pack and take care of some stuff?
I spent the night on the complimentary computer in the lobby, searching for information on alternate universes.
All that time and I accomplished nothing.
No practical advice on how to transfer back and forth.
As long as the first hit to the head toppled her, the rest would be easy.
Physically, at least.
However, my plan fell apart during the first step.
I dont want you here, she said, her voice cracking as much as her skin.
Did she mistake me for her daughter?
Or did she know about AUs too?
Maybe my double told her about me.
Maybe she hated me for wanting to split them apart.
Dont give me that look.
I did what was best for me.
Thats what everyone always says to do, isnt it?
Her slender fingers shook around what I now realized was a shotgun.
Raising you rich turned you into a brat.
I needed to get away.
I disappeared on a whim, but I left you an entire house.
A mansion, really.
And you had plenty of other family.
A nice boy to marry.
I figured youd be fine.
Slivers of my past punctured my memory.
The policeregretting to inform methey found no leads, no evidence of my mothers kidnapping or murder.
My friends casually suggesting she might have taken off on her own.
I had sworn shed gotten taken.
I had planned a funeral.
I had buried an empty casket.
Meanwhile my mother, my real mother, kept speaking above my thoughts.
The Clarissa here was raised right.
Her mother died during childbirth and grew up inside a foster home.
She was excited to meet me.
Excited to hear fairytales about my old life.
But it was okay foryouto take off onme?
You were a troublemaker.
You stole from my checking account.
You dropped out of college after your second semester.
You cheated on that nice boy who would have done anything for you.
You were a mess, Clary.
I should have lashed for her throat in anger, but I found myself nodding along.
Before her disappearance, I treated her like shit.
I blew money on cocaine.
I showed up to work late or not at all.
They only kept me employed because of my family name.
I only had friends because of my money.
Maybe everything she put me through was for the best.
Maybe it helped both of us grow.
And maybe the window brought us to the same alternate universe for a reason.
We can live here together, I said, forming my first smile in half a decade.
This was meant to happen.
Were supposed to be here.
Dont you think so?
