Amy
The next night, Dad praised our performances in the recital and the family conversation focused on our schedules for the next week. My next big thing was Jane's birthday party. Mom had caved and we'd gone shopping for a dress. My dress was still really plain, but the cobalt blue suited me and it was a knit that had some silk in with the wool and a little unnatural fiber so it felt lovely. It was closely fitting but not tight, with a flirty above-the-knee skirt and a draped neckline that helped draw attention away from my flat chest. And without even having to ask, some pretty dress pumps. For a present, I'd gotten Jane a set of books; she loved Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility, and I'd hunted her down several editions that had been published over the centuries. The covers were all different, some were annotated, and there were different prefaces and afterwords so that she could deepen her knowledge of the classic and its author. And I'd received invitations for Molly and Hope's parties, at the beginning and end of January, respectively. Eleanor's birthday was the only one after mine, at the start of June. I was really looking forward to the fun; Molly's dad was an event planner, so it was sure to be really special. I was thinking hard about what I could get them that was special. Deri had nothing scheduled because she was grounded, and Mom and Dad always had the possibility of extra work.
We went to Jane's on her actual birthday to give her our presents; she loved the Sense and Sensibility collection. We had ice cream sundaes to celebrate and awaited her party impatiently. Molly, Hope, and Eleanor and I walked into the ballroom together; it was set up as a casino with all sorts of games, but there was also a bandstand, dance floor, and buffet tables set up with appetizers and desserts. There was even a bar with a variety of soft drinks and a cranberry-based mocktail specifically created for Jane. When we handed in our invitations, we were given a thick stack of fake money to bet with. After we mingled, greeting our classmates, hugging the birthday girl, we tried our hands at the tables. I was kind of sucky at everything but the roulette wheel. Then the band set up, and all our jaws dropped. Somehow Jane's parents had managed to book Chandelier, which was only the hottest band of the moment. The trio had three of the top eleven most popular songs on the chart and we all loved them. They played for an hour, and then up-and-coming local band Chrysalis took over and played sets for the remainder of the party. It was tremendous. There was a break when Jane cut the massive cake and was given her presents; her grandparents gave her two pieces of family jewelry; an amethyst and diamond ring and red and white diamond chandelier earrings. Her parents gave her a personal one-seater pod; it had rich cream interior and the exterior was her favorite sunny shade of yellow. At the end of the party, we could trade our "winnings" in for prizes, which were random and came in plain paper bags, although they were pretty, festive bags. I got the code for seven new movies and three games that hadn't even been released yet. I found Jane and her parents and thanked them for the invitation, telling them I'd had a fantastic time.
At lunch the next day, my parents asked me how the party had been. "It was fantastic!" I enthused. Then Mom's communicator chimed. We weren't supposed to use them at the table, but Mom and Dad had them in case they were needed. Dad might not be a Batman anymore, but he still helped out down in the Bat cave and needed to know if the Avengers went into action. Mom, of course, was on call for the Justice League. She looked down it and frowned.
"I am sorry, dear," she said to me. "I must go." She got up and kissed my cheek on the way past.
"Mom sure has a lot of emergencies for a curator," Deri observed. "It's a lot more exciting job than you'd think." I wished she could keep things to herself; it would be much nicer just to be able to be open about it.
"Hmm," Dad said. "You were saying, honey?"
"They got Chandelier to play, then after their set, Chrysalis--"
"No way!" Deri squealed. I nodded eagerly.
"I tried to record it for you but they had a diversionary jammer, it was in the bands' contracts, you know, they jam the communicators' signals, the program reads incoming messages for words like 'emergency,' 'hospital,' that kind of thing so you can be notified to leave the site if necessary." She looked disappointed, then rallied.
"Thanks for trying," she said. "What else?"
"They had--"
And Dad's communicator went off. Huh. Must be something big going on. "Sorry, kids, I've got to go too," he said, hastily patting his mouth with his napkin and hurrying off. Deri listened as I finished telling her, and sighed.
"You've only got a couple more years until it's your turn," I tried to be encouraging.
"That's not as reassuring as you meant it," she said glumly, and I shrugged.
"It's the best I can do," I said, and she gave me a small smile. Then we finished up fast, as Alan was hovering.
After that, we had Iris and Miles' birthday party and then it was time to study for finals. We had three days of them, two a day for three days. Deri was luckier, her finals weren't nearly as big a deal and could be done during their normal classes. Iris was graduating from high school early, ready to start at Columbia in January. Her twin, Miles, would be finishing up high school by himself and was a little mopey. We couldn't go to the graduation ceremony, space limitations (the Return caused havoc with a lot of things as a lot of people's families greatly expanded) but we could watch it remotely, then there was a graduation party at Grandma Alex and Grandpa Damian's just down the road a bit. Then we could relax and get ready for Christmas. There were presents to get for my friends and immediate family, and another family dinner in the ballroom with the extended clan. This time, though, Grandpa Bruce had been placed across the room from me and the dinner was much nicer for both of us. Even if I had managed a B- in bio.
School had barely started when other invitations to birthday parties started to come in, and Molly's party was at a complex with ice skating, where there was also dancing at another part of the complex and a photo booth, and professional ice skaters had been hired to perform a brief show before the opening of presents and the cake and all. The usual array of snacks, and somebody whipped up different hot cocoa varieties for us. So yum. For her present, I'd stood in line with a copy of Molly's favorite book and gotten the author's signature (spending four hours in line and also having to pay for the autograph) as well as a copy of the script that they were using to shoot the film (I had to use family connections for that one.) Molly's pod had a silvery gray interior and flashy metallic blue exterior. Another classmate's party was held at Grandma Alex's Valkyrie building, where a DJ rocked the elegant place. There was a cruise up the Hudson, a pool party, and a masquerade one that conflicted with Hope's party, which was a red carpet type event where movies played on a couple rooms, there was dancing, another photo booth, as well as a free-range photographer, and the snacks included cotton candy on glowsticks. She loved soccer and played on the school team; hours of hunting for a present had yielded an antique photograph, underpriced because since the store owner apparently didn't know great soccer rivals, of 21st century superstars Messi and Ronaldo in the 2009 Champions League final. Hope knew soccer history like the back of her hand, and I had it framed, without a mat, so she could see both sides of the photograph (the back was marked faintly) even thought the paper was tattered and folded on one corner. She did love it; she loved the first two centuries of world competition the most. I wore the flapper dress (with inauthentic makeup and accessories) finally and got several compliments. Hope's pod was a hot crimson exterior with a midnight blue interior.
Things seemed to be going better this semester. We were done with the hated taxonomy in bio, and while dissection was equally awful, at least it was easier to do and my grades at midterm were all As and Bs, with a slight advantage on the A side of things. After the recital, I started to wonder if I was wearing the wrong pointe shoes and went in to be refitted the next time I needed new shoes. I found a pair that was significantly better than my old ones, and Miles thought that most of my problems might have been with my confidence. My teacher agreed, saying that I'd improved significantly, and that while she still didn't think I had the potential to reach the top of a company like Miles could, I could probably join a corps de ballet at a company if that was something I wanted. I was interested in that, because I just wasn't finding a career path I wanted to follow. Most of my classmates had broad interests that they could hone in our classes, but I was interested in a lot of things rather than one broad career path. And at my heart, my indecision felt worse because I knew that if worse came to worse, I'd be sent to college for a generic business degree and set to work at Wayne somewhere, or if not at Wayne, probably at a company where the owners could be leaned on to hire me. I felt like I didn't have any control over my future and that it didn't really matter anyway.
After the midterm grades came out, we sat down for a celebratory dinner (Deri had done very well, of course) with Grandpa Mark, who was interested in catching up with us after an extended trip through Africa. Partway through dinner, when Grandpa was telling us about his stops in different cities for business, Alan appeared. "I am sorry to interrupt, Master Mark," he said, sniffing ever so slightly. "But a person has arrived and is most insistent to see you." He extended what looked to me, across the table, like a business card. Deri and I perked up. This was the most interesting thing to happen at dinner in forever. Usually it's just conversation. Even Mom and Dad looked interested. Grandpa froze as he read the card.
"Immediately, Alan," was all he said, and got to his feet, eyes fixed on the door, and ignoring Dad's questions. Shortly thereafter, Alan produced a woman.
"Amy?" Grandpa said, and launched himself over for a hug. She was slightly shorter than Grandpa, with the same hair color, which was about all we could see of her.
"Aunt Amy?" Dad gasped, then threw his napkin down and hustled over to join the hug. Deri and I looked at each other with wide eyes. We'd heard of Grandpa's sister, of course, who had helped raise Dad after his mom had died. "Where've you been?" he asked, his voice muffled. "I thought you were lost. Again." When the huddle broke up, we looked at the newcomer with great interest. She looked the same age as Grandpa Mark, Dad too, for that matter, the Return having reset the returnees' appearance to mid to late twenties at that time. There was a strong family resemblance.
"It's not much of a story," she sighed.
"Aunt Amy, I'd like you to meet my wife, Diana Prince," Dad said. Mom went over and they did cheek kisses.
"We've met, my dear," Mom said, and Dad shook his head as if trying to clear out some fuzz.
"Right, when we had conferences at the house," he said.
"It's good to see you again," Mom said to Amy, who was smiling. "These are our daughters, Lysippe and Derinoe." Amy's eyes got big and her mouth opened in an O. She had a tremendously expressive face. I waved, then Grandpa removed the hand he had over his mouth and motioned us over. Each of us got a hug and a searching look. I don't know what she was looking for, but I hoped that I didn't disappoint her too.
"Come sit down," Grandpa said, looking around as Alan brought in another chair. More introductions, and a plate with dinner was produced. We finished hastily as the adults caught up and Deri and I volunteered our basic information, then adjourned to the library for her story.
"It's not terribly complex," she said ruefully. "I woke up in the hospital with amnesia, a broken skull, and brain damage, some other injuries that were less serious. Well, when I woke up, all I had was the amnesia, the physical structures had been repaired. I couldn't remember anything about myself, but I recognized things and knew about living in the time, pretty much, there were technological advances, of course. My DNA never got a match, so once I was physically recovered and the hospital psychologist thought I was capable of looking after myself, I was discharged. I got a job in the forest service in the Pacific northwest, first helping to reforest areas still recovering from early indiscriminate logging, repairing damage done by the long winter, then working in national parks to reopen them for visitors, making improvements, that kind of thing. Information from my education started to come back although I couldn't remember where I got it, and I was moved to the business side of the forest service. I missed it," she said thoughtfully. "It was more fun to be out in the fresh air, working hard. You could always see the results of your labors. Then, later, flashes of memories. And not long ago, I remembered who I was. So I took the time to sort through all the memories and I had my DNA submitted to the Returnees database, and I was alerted that I had family, and who they were. Turned out that there had been some kind of mixup and it had never been submitted in the first place. So here I am." Her smile was small.
"You should have called," Grandpa scolded her, putting his arm around her shoulder and touching heads. Deri and I listened, fascinated, drinking our tea and absently eating petit fours.
"It was a little nervewracking," was all she said, and he nodded. I remembered that Dad had found Grandpa in a hospital, having been severely beaten and in a coma.
"You've got to stay here, of course," Dad said immediately. "I've missed you so much."
"Thanks, Dan, but I've got a hotel room--"
"Amy, come on. If you stay here, you can get to know your great nieces," Grandpa said craftily, and at that, her resistance melted.
"We'd love to have you," Mom said, and Alan disappeared. So it was settled that she was staying with us, and information continued to be traded. Amy was sharp as a knife, obviously highly intelligent, another sterling example of the Wayne family DNA. Then Deri and I were dismissed to do homework.
"Well, there will be time to get to know you better," Aunt Amy said ruefully. "I've got a couple week's vacation."
"Lys's grades have just come up," Mom said. "We don't want to jeopardize that." I shot her a look of disgust before I managed to wipe it off my face. One night wouldn't tank my grades, and Aunt Amy's reappearance was really big. Huge. But if she was staying a couple of weeks, there'd be time to spend with her. We said good night and walked out, listening to Grandpa's proposal that she quit her job and come back to the city.
"That sucks," Deri said, scowling, as we walked up the stairs. "She just appears, out of the blue, and we're sent away like we're little kids." I huffed an agreement. At the top of the stairs, I patted her shoulder, an uncharacteristic gesture. As much of a pain in the ass as she could be, she was still my little sister, and watching Grandpa and Aunt Amy made me conscious of the bond that siblings share. Instead of ducking away, Deri smiled at me, so she must have felt it too. We separated at our doors and I went to work on quadratic equations, which I was actually understanding. I'd go down early tomorrow morning, see if maybe Aunt Amy would be down for breakfast too.