I darted in and out of the kitchen, balancing trays on one hand and pushing my way through the crowded dining room with the other. Elderly patrons made their way through the maze of tables with slow trepidation, and little kids played tag in the open spaces. When someone bumped against my leg, I had to quickly bite my lip to avoid cursing out loud. I hated the lunch rush.
     “Keep it up, Valerie,” my manager said as I passed him. “The craze is almost over,”
     Sure enough, the diner started to clear out after another fifteen minutes; by three o’clock, we were left with only three occupied tables. I sighed with relief as I pocketed the tip from another empty table. My favorite coworker, Jimmy, tugged on my ponytail in victory as he passed behind me. “We survived another one, Val!”
     “Are we going out to dinner after this shift?” I asked, turning towards him.
     “It’s your birthday; you tell me. How old are you turning, anyway?”
     “Eighteen,”
     He wiggled his eyebrows at me in a mock-suggestive manner. “You didn’t tell me that,”
     I laughed and took the tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen, then returned to the dining area with a jug of sweet tea for my remaining customers. Because the young girl at the corner table was the closest to the kitchen, I strode over to her first. “Hey, sweetie, can I refill your glass?” I asked as I drew within earshot.
     There was no reaction for a long moment. When she did raise her blond head to look up at me, the tears in her eyes made me freeze in mid-step. The girl was only able to hold the floodgates for the briefest of moments before she dissolved. Startled, I set the jug on the table and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey, hey, are you okay?”
     “I’m . . . s-s-sorry,” she sobbed.
     Jimmy shot me a questioning look from across the room as she swiped at her eyes, and I waved him away as I addressed the girl, “Sorry for what?”
     “I’m a mess,” she hiccuped, then took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Yes; I’d like more tea, please,”
     “Are you alright?” I asked as I poured it for her.
     “I’ll be okay,” She patted my hand reassuringly.
     I nodded slowly, then headed back into the kitchen without bothering to visit my other tables. My manager and Jimmy were waiting for me and lounging against a counter. “What’s the matter with the little girl?” Jimmy asked.
     “I don’t know,”
     “Well, go find out,” my manager said. “We might need to call someone,”
     “Are you sure? I don’t think it’s any of our business . . .”
     “Valerie, she looks like she’s barely thirteen. It is our business,”
     I re-entered the dining area nervously, but as I glanced over at the girl, I could see that she really did need some comfort. She was quietly sniffling into a photo album when I first came out; by the time I had reached her table again, her expression had crumpled once more. She slapped her hands over her face in embarrassment as her shoulders began to shake. I pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, placing a soothing hand on her back.
     “Please tell me what’s bothering you,” I begged.
     She hesitated, then admitted, “My mom passed away last night,”
     “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,”
     She shook her head. “I’m sorry for making such a scene,”
     “Do you want me to call someone for you?”
     “No, I need to be away from my family for a while. They’re all so sad,”
     “But it’d probably be good to be around them right now,”
     She smiled ironically through her tears. “The only person I want is my mom,”
     We sat in silence for a long time while she calmed herself down. The girl pulled her hands into her sleeves and wiped at her eyes, and the charm on her necklace flopped out of her shirt. It looked just like the one I had around my neck, and I peeked down my neckline at my mother’s old jewelry. Because it was supposed to be a family heirloom, I thought it was weird that this girl would have one just like it. The girl suddenly glanced over at me, and I snapped myself out of my musings.
     “You’re very pretty,” she said softly.
     I smiled at her. “Thank you,”
     “I don’t want to keep you from your work,”
     “I don’t mind,” I considered her for a long moment, then said, “Why don’t you tell me about your mom?”
     She sighed nostalgically. “My mom was intelligent and kind. She had to put herself through college because she was raised in a single-parent household, but she landed a great job as soon as she got out. My dad was head-over-heels for her. They got married and had me and my two brothers a few years after they met. I think anyone who ever met her would find it impossible to find a harsh word to say about her,”
     “She sounds fantastic,”
     “She was,”
     “My mom passed away, too,” I said after a few moments of silence. “She died of ovarian cancer when I was six. It gets a lot easier, I promise. I mean, you’ll always miss her, but eventually you’ll realize that she’s in a better place,”
     The girl nodded. “I know she is,”
     “Then no more crying,” I said, smiling and patting her shoulder. “Do want a slice of our chocolate cake? I won’t charge you for it,”
     The girl stood and shouldered her bag. “No, thank you. You were right; I should be with family,”
     I stood, too. She threw her arms around me, and I staggered backwards in surprise before quickly hugging her back. It wasn’t until she had disappeared out the door that I realized she had left her photo album behind. “Wait!” I yelled, running out into the parking lot.
     But she was gone.
     I looked down at the album, thinking that there might be a name on the inside cover. I opened it up expressly for this purpose, but the first picture floored me. My own face smiled back up at me through the plastic cover. With shaking fingers, I pulled it out. Scribbled on the back was my name and the year 2017. My breath caught in my throat.
     I jammed it back in and flipped the page. That next one showcased several more pictures of me, but clearly a few years older and in an unfamiliar city. My arm was around the waist of a man I had never seen before, but he was looking down at me as if he knew me intimately. My eyes were glazed with same lovestruck expression, and I noted that there was a new tattoo encircling my left wrist. I glanced down at my bare one and began to shake.
     Each picture I passed filled me with more and more confusion and fright. There were three or four pages worth of wedding pictures to the same man, a whole slew of pictures of me pregnant, and a few pictures showing me holding tiny blond babies. My age progressed steadily as the pictures went along, and the last one appeared to depict me at forty years old. I pulled this one out and looked down at the date. Someone had written “Mommy” in sloppy child’s handwriting and the year 2039. My heart skipped a beat.
     “Mom,” gasped a voice next to me.
     My head snapped up to see girl staring bug-eyed at me.