As snow fell, I crouched in front of Teddy, shaking his shoulders until he opened his eyes. "I think I took too much medication," he said.

"I think you did, too," I said, helping him to his feet. He wobbled slightly. I brought my arm around his waist and walked him across the street to my house. He needed a break from the cats. Besides, I kind of liked him.

On the walkway, he stopped, hesitant to go with me. His eyes drifted to the rainbow flag hanging above the front door.

Uh-oh, is he some kind of homophobe?

"Don't worry. I won't make you gay," I said. "If you're freaked out, don't come in. Go home and suffer with the cats."

"Freaked out?"

"Yeah... upset... scared."

He didn't understand 'freaked out?' Where was this guy from? I had second thoughts about inviting him inside, but he looked so sick, yet cute and harmless.

"I'm neither of those things. The flag reminded me of something." He resumed walking, following me into the house. "I don't mean to impose," he said, standing in my doorway.

"You're not imposing. It's a snow day, anyway. You could always help me shovel later. It's gonna be difficult for me with my broken arm and everything. I know you said you want a drink. How 'bout a cup of coffee instead?"

"Coffee would be great," he said, sitting at the kitchen table.

As I popped a coffee pod in the keurig machine, Teddy stood up and approached me at the kitchen counter, mesmerized with the keurig machine as if he'd never seen one before.

"Nana doesn't have one of these," Teddy said.

"Don't you have one back home?"

"No. I was never much of a coffee drinker."

"I can get you something else."

"No, coffee is okay," he said. "Wow... it's ready in seconds." Fascinated, he removed the mug of steaming hot coffee. "It smells great."

"There's cream and sugar if you want it."

He shook his head, returning to the table with his mug. He shuddered, shivering from his wet clothes. "Let's go to the living room," I said. "It's warmer there."

With his coffee, he sat on the edge of the couch, staring blankly at my TV. He was the weirdest man I'd ever met. "Would you like to watch TV? I've been binge watching this show on Apple TV. It's called Severance. Have you seen it?"

"No."

"Well, what do you like?"

"I dunno," he said.

"What's the last movie you saw?"

"Mrs. Miniver," he said.

"Hmm... I'd never heard of it. Was it in the theaters?"

He nodded, staring straight ahead. He flinched as I turned on the TV. I'd left it on CNN. The topic again was the war in Ukraine.

"Are we at war with Russia?" Teddy asked. "Aren't they our allies?"

I paused before responding. How could he not know about the war in Ukraine? "Russia invaded Ukraine last year. Russia hasn't been our ally since World War II. Western countries are supplying weapons to Ukraine and have sanctioned Russia. Where are you from? Are you a runaway from the Amish country or something?"

"No... no... I'm Irish," he said.

I chuckled uneasily.

"Didn't the US supply weapons to England before they entered the war?" he asked.

"Yes."

Teddy twirled strands of his hair around his fingers. I'd learned this was a nervous habit of his. "Let's see what else is on," I said, changing the channel. I opened the guide, hoping to find something Teddy found interesting.

"There's too many things to choose from. How do you know what to watch?" Teddy folded his arms across his chest, shivering.

"You're still cold. I'll get you a blanket. You find something to watch."

Returning with a blanket, I found Teddy holding the remote control watching The Simpsons. He giggled, listening to Homer Simpson speak: "I like my beer cold... my TV loud... and my homosexuals flaming..."

"You can say anything on TV, even in cartoons," Teddy laughed, shaking his head.

"I guess," I said, handing the blanket to him.

"Thanks," he said, wrapping it around his body. Focused on The Simpsons, he made himself at home, curled up on the couch. I sat on the opposite end, prepared to finish grading the essays.

In the middle of an episode, Teddy drifted off to sleep.

On the final stretch of correcting the last of the essays on the New Deal and Great Depression, I chewed the tip of my pen as a recent dream flooded my brain.

1930s music played in my head, images of The Grapes of Wrath overtook my brain, along with a portrait of a young man resembling Teddy Maillet, the alleged grandson of my neighbor, Millie. In my dream, I saw a man who looked exactly like the person in Millie's family photos. The same man was snoring softly on my couch, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. I recognized those lips and narrow shoulders. He was tall and slender, but strong... stronger than he looked. How did I know that?

Even Teddy's quiet snores were familiar. Leaning over, I combed my fingers through his tangled hair. As he stirred, I quickly jerked my hand away. He resumed snoring.

While Teddy snoozed, I tied a plastic bag around my cast and took a shower. I felt like I hadn't showered in my bathroom in weeks. In my recent dream, I took a bath in a strange bathtub. My dreams were so vivid they seemed more like memories. I closed my eyes, letting the water beat down on top of my head.

Spunky and tenacious Teddy.

How and why did I know he was spunky and tenacious?

In my head, I recounted all the men I'd been with over the years. Almost ten years ago, I slept with a man I met while working at Community Teamworks for the summer. I'd just gotten out of an abusive relationship. He showed up at the right time, making me forget about that asshole for a night. When I gave him my number, I expected to see him again, but he disappeared off the face of the earth.

Fuck... that's him!

Dripping wet, I ran out of the bathroom in a towel, to let Teddy know he was right—that we'd met before. When I got to the living room, he was gone, disappearing like he did all those years ago. He left the blanket folded neatly on the couch.

But it felt like we'd just seen each other yesterday, that we'd spent more than one night together.

Ready to run outside in only a towel, I stopped at my open door, the cool air sending shivers through my body. My heart skipped a beat when Teddy appeared in the doorway. His cheeks turned pink and his eyes widened as I stood half naked in front of him. A suitcase sat at his feet as if he planned on staying with me.

"I can't breathe in that house," he said. "I'm hoping I could stay the night until I figure some things out."

"Um... uh... yeah, sure," I said. "I have an extra bedroom."

"Yeah, that's what Millie... uh, Nana said."

"We met in 2014. I remember you. Why'd you disappear? I liked you."

"It wasn't our time," he said, reaching in the pocket of his hoodie. "We met again. I was hoping you could tell me where I got this." He pulled out an Apple watch with a rainbow wristband that resembled the one Erin gave me. "I believe this belongs to you. This is your name, isn't it?" He showed me the inside of the wristband where my name was printed in black marker. Stunned, I took the watch from him.

"I looked everywhere for this," I said. "Where'd you find it?"

"I didn't find it. You gave it to me."

"I didn't give it to you," I said. "I had it until yesterday."

Tears welled in his eyes. "Your yesterday is different from my yesterday."

"There's only one definition of yesterday."

From his other pocket, he removed a letter. "You wrote me this. You have the worst handwriting in the world."

In my kitchen, I opened the letter, recognizing my sloppy handwriting.

Dear Teddy,

If there's such a thing as a soulmate, you're it. I never believed in fate, either, but I believe we're fated to be together. When I'm with you, I feel complete. I feel like nothing else matters but us. There is no past or future, only us.

I've chosen a lot of bad men in my life, but you're not one of them. If I could stay with you, I would, but I don't belong here. I couldn't live in a world where we have to keep our love hidden. I don't want to keep you a secret. Love is love and I hope you'll come to realize that some day. You'll always have a special place in my heart, and I won't ever forget you. You'll always be a part of me.

Until we meet again.

Love always,

Eric

2/21/1935

Confused, I re-folded the letter. "When did I write this?"

"The date's on the bottom... February 21st, 1935."

Doubled over with laughter, my towel nearly slipped from my hands. "What? This has to be a joke."

"I know it's hard to believe," he said. "I think I wrote you a letter, too."

My laughter slowly subsided, realizing Teddy was serious. Maybe he suffered from schizophrenia and needed a medication adjustment. "I've found no letters."

"You need to find that letter or I'll sound like a lunatic."

You already sound like one.

"I'll look around, but I'm making no promises," I said.

"While you look, would you mind if I had a shower? I love these modern showers."

Modern showers? My house was built in 1962, and the shower and bath hadn't been modernized. I'd only replaced the shower head last year.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Be my guest."

As Teddy showered, I remembered the vaguely familiar brown briefcase from this morning. I retrieved it and sat on my bed, dumping out the papers. None of these papers looked like a letter. I rummaged through the inside pockets, finally stumbling on a neatly folded piece of paper. As I unfolded a handwritten letter, a torn dollar bill fell out. I placed it to the side, more interested in reading. Although this letter was also written in cursive, I was more awake than I was this morning and could decipher most of the words.

February 21, 1935

Dear Eric,

I'm writing to you from a different era. You may think you were dreaming, but I'm real and what we had was real. What we HAVE is real. You describe yourself as an 'asshole,' but you're not. You're a kind, caring man. I've never known anyone like you. I wish there were more Eric Gagnons in the world.

When we see each other again, we may not recognize each other or even remember we shared many nights together, but I'm hoping we'll both be familiar enough that we'll remember we met at some point in our lives, and I loved you like a woman loves a man and you loved me the same way.

You and I first met in 2014. We spent one incredible night together. We met for the second time on a snowy afternoon on January 22, 1935. You hate baked beans and love chocolate. You had a sister, Erin, whom I met once. She passed away of cancer. Your mother died from a virus and your father died of a drug overdose. You love history and literature. You've been teaching for eight years. You like the way I sing. At least you told me you did. You like falling asleep in my arms, and so do I.

When you read this letter, it will be 2023 again and I'll still be in 1935 missing you, waiting for the perfect time to see you again. I'm hoping this letter will help you remember me and understand that I was not part of a dream. I was real. I AM real, and I promise we'll meet again, whether it's in this world or the next.

Maybe this will help you remember: I have poop brown eyes and poop brown hair. You have beautiful dark hair and soulful eyes.

When I see you again, I might be scared and confused like you were. You're the only person I'll know in 2023, so I'm counting on you to remember a piece of me. I look forward to the day I no longer have to hide who I am, to live freely and openly like the way I was meant to be. You're my savior and my soulmate.

All my love,

Teddy McDonough

P.S. You broke your wrist tripping over a log in Lowell State Forest.

Poop brown eyes and brown hair?

I remembered.

My eyes stung with tears as I held the letter tightly, making my way to the bathroom. In the shower, Teddy hummed an unrecognizable tune. His humming always amused me.

"I love your shower!" he exclaimed, sensing my presence.

With tears streaming down my face, I slowly drew back the curtain. I'd touched and kissed every inch of his body, from the curves of his shoulders to the roughness of his skin. The distinct birthmark on his shoulder proved this wasn't Millie Maillet's grandson. Millie was his baby sister.

"It's you," I whispered, dropping my towel as I stumbled into the shower. Sobbing, I fell into his arms. We hugged each other tightly, afraid to let go.

"You wouldn't believe the trips I had," he said against my neck. "It took me forever to get here. I'd almost given up and time was running out. After each trip, I forgot a little bit more, and I was afraid I'd forget you forever, but here you are... here I am..."

I pulled away from him to kiss his lips. He grasped a clump of my hair, returning my kiss. This wasn't a dream. It was real.

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