“His name’s Jim Banks,” Jennifer answered for him.
Her mother and father both looked at her like she’d cussed in church. Rose threw back two fingers of Jack Daniel’s, then poured a little more. No one else made a move for the glasses she had set out, at least not at first. But after a few wordless seconds, the other Tad moved down the front of the bar, righting a fallen stool, and picked up a glass of golden brown whiskey. He sipped it, looking at Jim over the top of the glass and touching his cut. “You have any idea how any of this is possible, Mr. Banks?” he asked.
This question got all of their attention. All four Garlands-the ones who belonged here and the one who didn’t-narrowed their eyes. Jim studied the two Tads and wondered where the other Rose might be. Was she dead, or had she divorced Tad and left Boston altogether? He decided she must be dead. It would explain the way the other Tad looked at Rose, and there was no way that the Rose Garland he knew would’ve let her husband keep the restaurant if they’d gotten a divorce. Just the fact that the other Tad had been here when the two Bostons merged meant he still owned the place, at least in his city. And how the hell would that work, now that there were two Tad Garlands in this version of Boston, but only one Junction 58?
“I know a little,” Jim admitted.
The Tad who belonged swept the pieces of his train off the table in front of him, and they clattered to the floor. “Well, spit it out, then, buddy. ’Cause my head’s splitting in two.”
As if realizing what he’d said, Tad flinched and looked over at the other Tad, who laughed and toasted him with glistening whiskey. “Something’s splitting in two,” the other Tad said. With that, he grabbed another of the glasses Rose had poured and walked across the bar to his double, setting the drink on the table.
Tad looked at the glass for a second, then shook his head with a dubious chuckle and picked it up, sipping the whiskey just like the other Tad.
“Actually, it’s not anything splitting in two,” Jim said, glancing around the bar, worried about what he ought to say and what he ought to keep to himself. “It’s two things coming together that shouldn’t.”
Jennifer hugged herself. Jim wanted to do it for her, to embrace her and make her feel safe and warm, but she didn’t know him.
“You want to explain that?” Rose asked.
“It may be hard to believe-”
“Are you kidding?” Jennifer said. “After the past couple of hours, what could be hard to believe?”
Jim nodded. She was right. No use trying to break it to them gently. “Short version,” he said. “A long time ago, an asshole named McGee fucked around with magic and basically broke Boston into three pieces. Not pieces. That’s wrong. Three variations. Three possibilities. All three were real, side by side… well, in the same space, I guess. And part of the structure that held them apart gave way tonight. Two of the cities crashed into each other. Places where they were the same, like your restaurant, were affected the least. But in other places, where the cities differed the most…”
“The cathedral,” Jennifer said, her eyes haunted as she glanced out through the shattered windows at the street. “We saw.”
Jim gestured at the two Tads. “You guys aren’t going to be the only ones dealing with this tonight. My bet? A huge percentage of the city are meeting their twins right now, or they will be soon.”
“Not me,” Rose said, pouring herself another splash of Jack and staring into the glass. She smiled bitterly. “Turns out I’m dead.”
“You’re not dead, Mom,” Jenny insisted. “You’re right here.”
“Be glad you don’t have to deal with this,” her husband said.
“Glad?” the other Tad said, looking at his double in disgust. “Glad that my Rose is dead?”
“That’s not what he meant,” Jennifer said quickly, trying to stave off an argument.
“How the hell do you know all this?” Rose asked, staring suspiciously at Jim.
He hesitated. No way could he tell them that he had anything to do with this devastation, with crashing their worlds together, with the death and destruction around them. Jim and Trix had been Veronica’s pawns, nothing more. He wouldn’t take the blame for her madness.
“There’s a woman who wants to undo what McGee did. She’s screwing with the same kind of magic. But there’s no way to undo it, not really. Just by her trying… well, you’ve seen the result. And there’s a third Boston out there. If she has her way, that one’ll be merged in with all of this, and even more people will die. Maybe a lot more, because I have a feeling that if all three cities are forced into the same space, the quake could be much stronger.”
“Jesus,” Rose whispered, staring at him.
“Okay,” the other Tad said. “But how do you know?”
Shit. Think, Jim.
“I’m looking for my wife and daughter. I went to see a man named Peter O’Brien-a guy who knows some of that magic-because I was told he could help me find them. He told me all of this, but he died in the quake.”
He hated lying. Jenny had always known when he wasn’t telling the truth, and now he looked at Jennifer to see if she could tell, too. But she had something else on her mind. “When you showed up here…,” she began. “You were looking for me.”
Jim nodded slowly, glancing away for a second and then back. “My wife, Jenny Banks.” He smiled weakly. “Jennifer Anne Garland Banks.”
Jennifer stared at him for a second, then looked around the room as though searching for something, as though she could see a million possibilities flitting in the air around her head. She strode over to the bar, picked up one of the glasses, and knocked back two fingers of whiskey before staring at him again. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “We have a daughter?”
Jim shook his head. “No. Not ‘we.’ ”
Wonder and curiosity and even a glint of happiness had appeared in her eyes as she’d spoken those words, as she entertained the notion of this other version of her life, but his words snuffed out that spark. He regretted them instantly, hating to see the pain of reality settling back into her expression. How could he explain to her that he didn’t exist in the Boston she knew, that they couldn’t have met? What other questions would that lead to?
“Look, I’m here because I thought Jenny and Holly-my daughter-might have come here, just to be somewhere familiar. Obviously they haven’t, or at least they didn’t let you see them if they did. I need to get out there and keep looking, so-”
Tad pointed at him but turned to the other Tad. “So this guy is married to your Jennifer?”
“No,” the other Tad said. “I’ve never seen him before.”
Rose gestured toward him with the Jack Daniel’s bottle. “Which means either you’re lying, Jim Banks, or you’re from the other Boston. The third one.”
“Yeah,” Jim agreed. “That’s right.”
“Well, if all this magic stuff is true-” the other Tad started.
“Gotta be,” Tad said. “How else do you explain all this shit?”
“Then we get how it is I’m here,” the other Tad continued. “Our two Bostons crashed, right? But if you’re from the third one, the one that’s still out there like the iceberg that hit the goddamn Titanic, then how did you get here? How did your family get here?”
Jim felt like shouting. He fidgeted, looked at Jennifer as if she might rescue him, and then remembered she didn’t know him. He couldn’t take responsibility for these people. Back in his own life, his own reality, they were his in-laws… and Jennifer was his wife. But this wasn’t his world, and he needed to find his real family. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve got to find my wife and daughter.”
“Jim,” Jennifer said. Her tone was soft and kind, and banished any tension from the room. “You were right. If it was me… if I was the one lost… this is where I would come.”
Jim glanced at the door, wanting to run but also knowing she might be right. Jenny and Holly had been here for half a day, at least. They would have had time to come by the Junction already, and maybe they had but had been too weirded out by everything to go inside. Or maybe they’d gotten a glimpse of Jennifer and that had freaked them out even more. But now, in the aftermath of the quake, if she and Holly were still alive-and they had to be-there was a strong possibility they would come here. On the other hand, if he stayed and waited, and they didn’t come here, he might never find them.