Time Will Tell

Cramp entry: Time Will Tell with mystery as one genre choice 999 words

My mother always told me "time will tell." I used to wonder if that meant a limitation of some kind, as if only time would know the answer. She said it in so many different senses, that I didn't feel time needed to be the only way to experience these marvels.

Efforts were made. People wrangled. Chores accomplished. Tasks completed. What did time have to do with any of that, except that time was needed to get through all of it? Always, through all of it, was my mother's simple phrase. I've been sick to death of hearing it for years, and my mother passed away some time ago. A decade, maybe more. I don't count time the same way since.

My daughter recorded Mom's voice saying, "Time will tell." Occasionally she plays it for me, and I tell her to turn it off. I'd rather hear Mom saying anything else, but my daughter, who is more like Mom than anyone else I've ever met, is contrary to my wishes and desires.

I'll show her. I really, really will. It took years. It took millions, but lucky me I'm a researcher and I can get grants and donations when it's required of me. My mother's words drove me to learn to move heaven and earth for the things that I desire.

All I ever wanted was for my mother to be at my daughter's wedding, and it's next week. I know we're supposed to give up on the dead showing up, but what's one more thing when we've said it's literally once in a lifetime? So I'm doing it. I'm bringing Mom back.

My daughter brought all of the items for a seance with her, and I didn't want to disappoint her. So we went through the motions, and we may even have summoned, uh, something, but we let it go. Quickly.

That's never been my specialty. This is my lab, and these are my tools - and I found the way. "Rhiannon, baby, Mom's coming to the wedding."

"She died ten years ago, Mom. Gram's not gonna make it."

"I'll be there with her. Because it's your wedding."

She played back the "Time will tell" phrase.

This time, I almost missed it. But only because I knew Mom was close now. I plugged in the machine and turned it on. I had duplicated myself in this way, remarking the time as it passed, being in two places at once. So Mom might be dead and alive, too, and not in that weird paradox cat crap. I dialed it back to before we lost her, and I brought my mom back. Back to me, my timeline, my present.

It had been a decade for Mom, though, and Mom wasn't used to the smarter phones and the flying cars and the AI everything. "Mom, it's just for Rhiannon's wedding. You didn't want to miss it."

"No. I didn't." And she was quietly looking out the window and studying the world. "Have I missed much?"

In the world, or in our family? This was Mom, so I chose family. "Rhiannon's marrying a lovely man. His name is Matt, and I spent time getting to know him. I think they make each other better. Her brothers are still in school, I think Toby might get his doctorate in mushrooms."

Mom laughed. "He's always been a fun-guy."

I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her. The easy banter we could do when she wasn't dying. Okay, even when she was dying, even if it then bordered or crossed the macabre line. "I have your outfit. The wedding is this afternoon. Rhiannon's not gonna believe you're here."

"I can't believe I missed the rest of it." There were tears in her eyes. "Do I have to go back?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. The words escaped before I could kill them, "Time will tell." Mom's death was still fresh in my memory. I didn't think anything would fix that.

Mom looked at the suit I'd chosen for her. It was stylish, deep brown with red accents along the lapels and pockets and seams, and when she put it on, she glowed. "How did you know?"

I rolled my eyes. "Mom. I've known you my entire life. Plus, Rhiannon drew it. She's always had a killer sense of style."

She checked herself in the mirror. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "I'm ready."

I hoped I was. I couldn't know. "She asked me to give her away. But I'm asking you to be there with us, the one who led me to be the one who led her. Please, Mom?"

Her eyes told me all I needed to know.

My dress was deep red, also Rhiannon's choice. I showed up to walk my baby girl down the aisle, with Mom on her other side. There were no dry eyes in the church that day, as I knew even Matt's relatives and friends spread the story among them about Rhiannon's grandmother returning for this one day.

I hugged Rhiannon, then Mom did, and we sat in the middle of my family. My boys looked bewildered on how I managed this for Rhiannon, who had always been my mother's favorite granddaughter. I didn't know what to tell them. They were my boys, the ones who brought me the baby toads and baby bunnies and picked flowers and rocks to share. They were the ones who reminded me life would go on, even if Rhiannon reminded me too much of Mom - especially right after I lost her.

The reception went by too fast, too short. Then we had to say goodbye to Mom. I didn't want to send her back, but cancer would get her no matter when we were. Nobody had cured that yet. If time didn't tell, we wouldn't be who we were if we hadn't lost her then. But it made a difference to me, and my baby girl, and I'd do it again.