"For Emily wherever I may find her...." - Paul Simon
My two-year-old granddaughter, Emily, cried for a while, refusing to go to sleep. Finally she wiped her nose on my shirt, rested her head on my shoulder and dozed off in my arms after her "terrible twos" tantrum. Putting up with a cranky baby is just one of the joys of being a solo baby-sitting grandparent. My son and his wife were off celebrating their anniversary. With my wife away at a conference, that left me to tend to the baby alone. Still, I enjoyed my grandfatherly job of spoiling Emily, as well as teaching her a few new things, like how to press gently on the piano keys, or how to catch a ball. I'm sure that she'll need these skills someday.
I waited for a few minutes, to make sure she was completely asleep before I slowly stood, headed for the spare bedroom and set her gently in the old crib. Now that she was asleep I could put on some classic rock and surf the web for a while. I switched on the baby monitor in case she woke up and paused to look at her little form once again before going. Sometimes she was so exasperating when awake, but she looked like a perfect little angel when asleep, especially with her unruly mop of curly reddish-brown hair.
"Princess, you're going to be a real heartbreaker in about 15 years." I softly told her, even though she couldn't hear me while asleep. "Just remember to keep the boys wanting more or they'll take advantage of you. Save that precious jewel of virginity, treasure it..."
"Save it for someone very special. You've always taught me that, Grandpa." The voice that finished my sentence came from behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin, I thought I was in the house alone except for Emily. I let out a startled oath that thankfully didn't wake the baby and I turned to see a young woman that I didn't recognize, about 17 or 18 years of age. She had the same unruly mop of reddish-brown curls as my granddaughter but barely tamed into a pony tail, the same coral-colored lips and the same gray eyes but hidden behind wire rimmed glasses. She was dressed as a typical student in a tee shirt and jeans.
"Who are you?" I demanded angrily. "How did you get in here?" I glanced around for a makeshift weapon. Even though she didn't seem threatening and was a few inches shorter than me, she looked rather athletic in a compact, curvy sort of way. Cross-country skiing perhaps, or endurance swimming or some other sport where a thin reserve cushion of body fat would be an advantage. It's odd what my mind thinks of when I should be concentrating on defense. Somehow I found myself attracted to her, not that I'd jump into bed with her, but something in the back of my mind was insisting that I could trust this stranger in my house. I pushed the feeling aside and tried to appear dangerous. I scowled at her with the best game face I could manage.
"Grandpa, it's me, Emily. Don't you recognize me?" Her face twisted up the same way baby Emily's did when she was upset and the young woman seemed to be on the verge of tears. "I've been listening to your advice all my life, that's how I knew what you were going to say next."
"Nonsense. Emily's only two; she's asleep in the crib. Who are you and what do you want?"
"That's Grandma's old crib, I remember it. You used it for Daddy, too."
She was right. How could she know that? How did she know Emily's name? What the hell was going on here? I tried to reply but only stammered.
Realizing my confusion, she tried to explain. "I was sent here, somehow. You're supposed to help me with some kind of problem. I don't know all the facts yet."
"She doesn't know because I haven't told her yet." Another voice chimed in, coming from inside the bedroom near the crib. This one was very similar to the young woman's, but a bit more mature. "Hello Grandpa, I'm also Emily."
Again I was startled. How did anyone get in here? There was only the one door to the hallway and I was facing it the whole time I was talking to the other woman. Nobody had come in that way and the only window was still closed.
I looked over at the new arrival. She looked very similar to the young woman, but maybe ten years younger than my age, which would put her in her early 40s. She was dressed in a burgandy pastel, scoop-neck top, casual slacks and similar wire-rim eyeglasses. Her hair was the same color, but had been pulled back into a tight bun. Perhaps they were mother and daughter? Still, what were these two doing in my house and why were they both claiming to be Emily? I got that strange feeling of trust again. This didn't make sense. The older woman peeked into the crib and smiled.
"Let's not disturb the baby." She stepped out into the hallway, ushering the younger woman along.
I followed right away, closing the door so little Emily's sleep wouldn't be disturbed if I had to forcibly throw these two out. So far they didn't seem to be dangerous, but I was still wary, especially of their interest in the baby. I didn't want them to kidnap my granddaughter or worse.
The lighting in the hallway was much brighter than the night-lights in the baby's room. I could see their faces very clearly when they turned to face me. I was quite surprised at how similar their faces were. The same oval shape, the same gray eyes as my wife, son and granddaughter, the same hair that was identical to my own hair color, the same little chin with an offset dimple. The only differences I could see were those caused by age, the older woman's face was a little fuller with subtle crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. Even their bodies were very similar in frame with the older woman a bit softer on the curves and carrying a few extra pounds. The same length legs and arms, similar hands and even the way they stood was identical. It was more than a mother-daughter relationship, it was more like they were clones.
"Still don't recognize me, Grandpa?" I wasn't sure which one spoke.
I looked a bit harder, trying to pick out the familiar features. They shared features from both my wife and me, features that we had passed down to our son, the father of Emily. In the brighter lighting, it was obvious that they were related to both of us, my wife and me. But how?
"What's going on here, who are you two?" Even I could hear the confusion in my voice.
"Grandpa, I'm Emily, your granddaughter." The older one spoke again. "The same one that's in that crib and also this is my younger self."
"That's what she told me when she sent me here." The younger one added.
I was finally realizing that this was something far, far out of the ordinary. It was going to take a while for me to figure out what was going on. These two were related to my wife and me, but the only offspring we had was our son and his two-year-old daughter.
I decided to hear them out. "Let's go sit down so you two can explain this better."
