Chương 2: Just Like Old Times

Olivia touched her cheek in disbelief. This face was one that she had managed to honestly forget. She'd come a long way since her teenage years, enough that talking about it felt like telling stories about a formerly close acquaintance or a distant family member. Yet here she was, staring at herself and her awkward pubescent glory once again. It was at that point that a few more strange details began to make themselves known. For one, her height.

This version of Olivia stood a few inches shorter than her adult self, still having a bit of room to grow. That explained the slight disorientation when reaching for door handles. On the bright side, she also lacked the modest collection of aches that age and motherhood had bestowed upon her so lovingly. The last detail was a rather welcome one. Still, Olivia held off on celebrating. She was too put off by her present circumstances—and how they were starting to feel far too real. I have to be dreaming. Right?

If I'm not…

"Olivia?" A voice startled her out of her musings. Olivia spun to find a tall, broad-shouldered man standing in the doorway, his dark hair the same color as her own. A few strands of silvery gray had begun to peek out among them, though they were a tiny minority compared to the near-solid coloring that she'd grown used to. A worn tee from a national park they'd visited years ago hugged his biceps and hung loosely over the rest of his fit frame. Her father raised his bushy eyebrows.

"Whoops. Didn't mean to startle you, there." Olivia couldn't help but stare. He looked so young. Sure, her mental image of her dad had never fully allowed her to consider him "old", even though he was well into being a grandfather. But now, seeing what he'd been like a few decades before… Was he always that fit? And those wrinkles around his eyes are gone… I didn't even realize those were new, they came in so slowly.

"Livi? You ok, sweetie?" Olivia blinked, realizing far too late that she'd been staring. She shook her head before attempting to salvage the situation.

"Fine, sorry. Just waking up still." She had to suppress a wince. Had her voice always sounded so high-pitched? Her dad chuckled.

"I was gonna say. I'm surprised to see you up so early. Planning to go back to sleep?"

"... No. I didn't think I could." It was an honest answer. Right now, she had too many questions to let things end here. Assuming that it was even an option. Her dad shook his head.

"That's even more surprising. But since you're up… Want some breakfast?" Her stomach growled in answer, eliciting another chuckle from her father.

"Sounds like that's one vote yes."

"Yeah. Some breakfast would be nice, thanks." Her voice was a little faint, as she was still reeling from the utter whiplash—both of her dad's physical appearance and her own. She followed her dad downstairs, her steps creaking on the third and fifth steps, and was greeted by the sight of her old kitchen. Its granite countertops were cluttered with all manner of seasonings, a few dishes from the night before, and a novelty toaster that had graduated from Christmas curiosity to a mainstay of the household.

There was even a home phone resting on a stand—a wireless one, but still a relic that would have been more fitting in a museum. I forgot how long those things stuck around for. They have to be on the way out, right? Olivia settled onto a tall chair at the counter as her dad began bustling about the kitchen. Her confusion only intensified as she took in the room. It was just as detailed as everything else she'd seen. Somehow. It even smelled like her old kitchen. She froze. Wait… smell?

I've never in my life smelled something in a dream. Not that dreams are particularly easy to remember things, but still… This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"Order up! Eat 'em while they're hot." Before she knew it, a plate stacked with fresh pancakes slid in front of her, with butter and a bottle of syrup following shortly after. Tantalizing tendrils of steam wafted up, tickling her nose and hammering home the revelation even further. She looked down at the stack in disbelief. Yet rather than stoking her appetite, the sweet aroma triggered an almost instinctual revulsion. She had spent the better part of a decade avoiding foods just like this. But…

it's a dream, right? She thought, clinging tight to the belief. So it won't matter if I eat a few pancakes. And besides… Her gaze drifted up toward her dad, who faced away from her. His body obscured the stove, but couldn't hide the telltale sizzling of more pancakes as he prepared a helping for himself. This obviously hadn't been his original plan for breakfast today. It was extra effort and dirty dishes made just for her. A gesture that she genuinely appreciated.

Picking up her utensils, Olivia tentatively put a forkful in her mouth and winced. It was as though she'd eaten a mouthful of straight sugar—even more so considering the wide berth she'd given the stuff after getting diabetes. Even now, she could practically feel her blood sugar spiking with a single bite. And that was even leaving the bottle of syrup untouched. I can taste them, too. Her dad returned a moment later with a plate of his own, standing across the counter.

Both ate in mutual silence for a minute, one enjoying the meal and the other trying very hard to suppress years' worth of habitual avoidance with each bite. The last thing she wanted was to seem ungrateful, especially since the meal was taking the edge off her hunger. Eventually, her dad broke the silence.

"What's on your mind, sweetie? Still waking up, or are you starting to get nervous?" She swallowed another bite.

"Nervous?"

"I mean, you've only got a couple days of summer left. Then you'll be a high schooler." She nodded, trying not to let the depth of her ignorance show. High school… so she really was a teenager again. At least, according to the setting. If it started in a couple of days, that meant she would have been, what, fourteen? She reflexively reached for her phone to check the date, only to remember that it wasn't there. Well, not on her at least. If memory served, she should definitely have one at this point.

Though it would be a far less advanced model than what she was used to. Maybe it was hiding in her room? Either way, it wouldn't help her now. So she just asked instead.

"What day is it again?" Her dad chuckled.

"Saturday. You sure you're even awake?"

"It's summer. The days kind of run together." Olivia shrugged, hoping that it worked as an adequate explanation.

"Fair enough. Though you won't get any excuses on Monday. I'll have ice cubes ready just in case you try sleeping in." Olivia couldn't help but smile. Despite the mischievous gleam in her dad's eye, he had never once actually followed through on that threat. Though Olivia did her best to never give him any reason to.

"By the way, let me know if you want anything from the store. I'll be going after lunch probably, once I get the lawn mowed and finish up a few loads of laundry. I'll take care of yours, too, if you bring it down and get it sorted…" They talked for a while longer about all sorts of things. Things that would have mattered years ago, like a new restaurant opening downtown or a band they both recognized performing in the area next week. Little things, really.

Yet it took her back to a time she hadn't realized she'd missed, one where he was simply a flight of stairs away rather than a three-hour plane flight. Yet throughout it all, Olivia couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease. Her dad felt real, too. Even more so than the figurines or the pancakes or the house. He felt like an actual person. Like her dad, not just a figment of her imagination. The realization hit her even harder than the pancakes.

And caused that nagging sense of uncertainty to solidify into something far, far more concerning. I don't know what's going on. But I get the feeling I'm not going to be waking up anytime soon. All too soon, their plates lay empty and their bellies full. Her dad gave a satisfied sigh.

"Well. What about you? Any big plans for the day?" She snapped her attention back to the present. Her dad's tone made it clear that he expected the answer to be no, and Olivia saw no reason to disagree. All she wanted right now was some time to think.

"Not yet. Just… just going to head upstairs and get ready." Dad chuckled.

"You sure? Only so many more lazy days. I won't judge if you want to take advantage and stay in your pajamas a while longer."

"Positive," she nodded, scooting back from the counter a bit more hurriedly than she'd intended.

"Thanks for breakfast, dad." Excusing herself, Olivia headed back up the stairs to her room. Her newly filled stomach was already sending a heady rush of sugar through her system, as though she'd refilled her tank with jet fuel rather than gasoline. It did absolutely nothing to help wrestle her increasingly frantic thoughts into line, and it was all she could do not to run the last few feet down the hall. The door clicked shut.

Only the sound of her breathing kept her company as she leaned back against it, eyes darting once more around the room. Her room. It was at that point that Olivia began to panic.