Tempus (34 page)

“’Kay, Dad.”

I opened the door and went inside.  Steve was in the front, messing with some things on a front shelf.  He looked like he was doing ‘busy work.’  I would have snuck up behind him, but he caught my reflection in the front glass and turned around.

“Everything okay?”  He asked, looking a little worried.  “Your dad didn’t—see us—outside?”

“No, he didn’t, but I think he suspects.”  I laughed at his worried expression.  “You better kiss me quick.  He’s on his way back in.”

Steve stepped forward, grabbed my face with both hands, and gave me a quick, but meaningful kiss.  “As long as I didn’t get you in any trouble.”

“Not at all.  Just a standard ‘Take things slow, I worry about you’ talk.  It’s not you.”

Steve looked relieved.  “I’m just gonna pretend it didn’t happen, and I’m doing my work.  I’ll call you later if I get the chance.  Scoot, before I want to kiss you again.”  He turned me toward the door and gave a gentle shove.

“Aye, aye, Sir.”  I laughed, and headed out the door.

Everywhere is here and every when is now.

—Dante

I was feeling better now.  I had overreacted to the pictures earlier, I was sure of it.  My crazy imagination had taken over, as it sometimes did.  Everyone called Mom Ana.  I never heard anyone use her given name.  As for ‘Analise,’ I would just forget about it for now.  My mom was Ana, and that’s all that mattered.

I was halfway home before I decided to call Gabriel.  I took the paper out of my pocket and opened it.  The numbers were neatly printed, and below them, he had written his name in that same fancy script.

Gabriel

 I ran my finger over the letters.  It seemed like I could feel them, not from the indentations they left, but feel a heat from them, embedded in the paper. 
Gabriel.  Gabriel.  Gabriel.
  I repeated the name in my head.

I stopped and looked at my palms.  The little red dots were nearly invisible now.  They didn’t even bother me anymore.  I pulled out my phone, found his number, and pressed the call button.  I listened to it ring.

“Jessie.”  Said the voice that answered.  I didn’t expect to hear my name, and it threw me off.

“Umm, yeah.”  I had been all prepared to say something, now my mind was blank.

“Hi.  I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah, hi.”

“Hello.”  He paused and I didn’t say anything.  “Did you—speak to your father?”

“Oh,
yes
.  That’s why I was calling.” What an idiot I sounded like.  “Dad said you invited us to dinner?”

“Yes, we did.  Did he ask you anything?”  He waited.

“Yeah.  He said you wanted to know if I could help, in the kitchen.”

“It’s not necessary, but it would be appreciated, if you didn’t mind.  My father is a disaster in the kitchen, and I would like to prepare something nice.”  His voice went through me; I could feel it touching my bones, tugging at them.  What a strange thought.

“I guess I could help.  I don’t know how to cook anything fancy, but I can follow directions, if that helps.” 
Please don’t let it be some strange thing I’ve never heard of
, I thought.

“It would help tremendously.  Again, only if you don’t mind.”

I guess I didn’t mind.  I was curious about his house, and his dad, and
him
.  “Okay.  What time?”

“I will make you a deal.  If you would like to come now, I will pick you up, and we can talk.  I said I would tell you about my mother.  We don’t have to wait until Sunday.”

“I could do that.  I’m not home yet, though.  If you can give me twenty minutes, I’ll be ready I guess.”  I started walking again, and at a faster pace.

“Twenty minutes it is.  Thank you, I’ll make sure it’s worth your trouble.”  I think he meant the dinner, but I wasn’t completely sure. 

“Okay.  Twenty minutes.”

I hung up, put my phone away and fast-walked all the way home.  I tried not to break a sweat, but it didn’t work.  I would have to take a super fast bath with the water running if I hoped to be dressed in time.

I took the stairs mostly two at a time, rushed through a bath, fixed my face, and found some clean clothes.  Gabriel made me think of white.  The white eyelet shirt I had worn the day I brought the mirror home.  That’s what I decided to wear.  I even dabbed on some perfume. 
Idiot
.

I only had about three minutes to spare, so I checked myself again in the mirror, smoothing my hair.  “Breathe, Jessie.”  I told my reflection.

Down the stairs, locked the door, and to the porch swing in less than a minute.  It had to be a record for me, and it sounded like I was just in time.  I could hear the loud motor of a car making a grumbling sound as it pulled into my driveway.

I peeked around the corner of the porch.  It was an old Mustang, glossy black, with two thick, white parallel stripes running up the center of the hood, across the top, and down the trunk.  When Gabriel put the car in park, it gently rocked from side to side with the sound of the motor.  It made me think of a galloping horse.

As I came down the stairs, Gabriel exited the drivers' side and walked slowly around the front toward me.  He wore a tight fitting gray tee shirt beneath an open short sleeve button down, and faded jeans.  He removed a pair of dark sunglasses, revealing his beautiful blue eyes, and bit his bottom lip, just for a second.

It was as if every movement were deliberate, even the way he blinked his eyes, looking down and back up, unhurried and seductive.  I felt like I was watching in slow motion.  My breathing changed, deep and measured, but my heart was out of control.  I imagined it was visible beneath the fabric that covered it.

“Hi,
Jessie
.”  The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

The sound of his voice brought me out of my trance momentarily, and the only two words I could manage to say rushed out,  “Hi, Gabriel.”

Once again, his movements appeared slow and deliberate.  He stepped closer, close enough for me to notice the scent of his cologne, his eyes never leaving mine.  He reached for the handle of the door.  “May I?”

I could see his pulse beating rhythmically near the base of his throat.  A steady, hypnotic thump-thump, thump-thump.  I realized he was waiting for me to step back so he could open the door.  “Oh, umm, sorry.”  I took a few clumsy steps backwards, and he smiled a slow smile.

He was doing this on purpose!

He opened the door wide and held out a hand.  I placed mine in it, and got an instant shock.  I jerked my hand away, startled.  His hand didn’t move at all, but he shook his head and laughed.  “Static electricity.”

Of course.  I smiled an apology, and placed my hand back in his, more firmly than before.  I could feel my skin tingle as his fingers closed around mine.

I slid into the seat, glancing around at the interior of the car, then back at Gabriel.  He still held my hand, and as our eyes met, he turned my palm up.  Raising his other hand, he traced the lines with an index finger, lost in some thought.  “How do they feel?”  He looked up from under his lashes.

My arms had goose bumps, and I could feel a trail of fire every place his finger touched.  “Tingly.”  I said without thinking.

One corner of his mouth turned up slightly, and his eyes closed just a fraction.  “I meant where the splinters were.”

“Oh.”  Oh, god, take me now.  What a stupid, childish idiot.  Send a bolt of lightning, earthquake, explosion,
anything
.  “Th-they’re okay.”  I managed to stammer.

He held my hand a second longer.  “I liked ‘tingly’ better.”  He released me, and with a devilish grin on his beautiful face, closed the door.  The car lightly rocked me, side to side.

I watched him walk around the car, crossing in front, sliding his sunglasses back on.  I felt displaced, shifted.  I wondered if that was how it would feel to be a planet and have your orbit changed by the impact of some object, Gabriel being the object, of course.

He effortlessly slid into the drivers’ seat, pulling the door closed.  I forced my eyes to stay away from his face, to look admiringly at the car, the dash, the gauges, the shifter, even the carpeting.  “You like it?”  He asked.

“It’s beautiful.  I love old cars.  I love
all
old things.”  I glanced up.

He had a look of absolute satisfaction in his eyes, and a smile that seemed almost—smug?  Almost, but not quite.  Pleased.  He looked very pleased.

He slipped the gearshift into reverse, turned to look over his shoulder, and put a hand on the seat behind my head.  His fingers had brushed my hair when they passed, and I felt it all the way to my scalp. 

We pulled carefully onto the road, and as he turned and removed his hand from the seat, he once again brushed my hair.  I knew it was intentional, and I couldn’t help but wonder why.  He knew he was having an effect on me, and it seemed to entertain him.  I couldn’t decide if I should be angry or not.

As we accelerated, he shifted smoothly from gear to gear.  “Did you have a nice lunch?”  He asked casually.

Okay, angry.  Sort of.  “Yes, I had a
wonderful
lunch.  Did
you
?”  That sounded harsher than I meant.

He winced slightly, and I immediately felt bad.  “It was lunch.”  He said, placing both hands firmly on the wheel, gripping it tightly.

“I’m sorry.  It’s been one of those days.  I’m normally easy to get along with, but these last few days…”  I let my voice trail off.

“These last few days what?”  He kept his eyes on the road, but I somehow knew he was watching me intently with his peripheral vision.

“I don’t know, really.  It’s not anything specific I can put my finger on.  Well, other than almost falling out of my window this morning and the whole ‘What’s my mom’s real name’ thing.”  I laughed and shrugged.

“There isn’t anything else?”  He glanced over, and then his eyes went back to the road.

“Yeah, but—just little things.”  I heard air puff through his nose.  “I was thinking a few minutes ago I felt like a planet dislodged from its orbit.”  I pressed my lips together, neither smiling nor frowning.

“A planet dislodged from its orbit?  That would be no
little
thing.”  He took a deep breath.

“I guess you’re right.”  I shifted in my seat to better see him, to watch his face.  “Have you ever felt like—hmm, how can I explain this—like you were out of step, out of rhythm?  Not with other people, but with yourself.”

Some indecipherable expression crossed his face.  “I have, quite often.”  His smile was paradoxical, both happy and sad.

“I’m not used to feeling this way at all.  Maybe after my mom died, for a while, but it still wasn’t like this.” 
Not until after I saw you
, I thought.

“Penny for your thoughts.”  He turned his eyes to mine as he said it, and for a moment, I thought I saw two of him, like his movement repeated and overlapped, and his voice did that echo thing again.  The car was instantly on the side of the road, stopped.  “Are you okay?  Are you sick?”  He reached a hand across and placed it on my forehead.

“I don’t know.”  I said, squeezing my eyes shut. 

“You went white as a sheet.”  He said, moving his hand from my forehead to my cheek.

His touch was soothing, but stimulating at the same time.  “I think I’ll be okay in a second.  Are we close to your house?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.  I’ve been driving too slowly, I suppose.”  His hand moved away from my skin and left a void.

I felt the car pull back onto the road, heard the engine, louder than it had been before.  I felt myself sink into the seat a little with the acceleration.  “Fast car.”  I said, eyes still closed.

“Would you prefer I slow down?”

“Nope.  I like it.”  I imagined we were going a hundred miles an hour, though I knew we weren’t.  I opened my eyes a tiny sliver, peeking at the side of his face.  It was a beautiful face, almost unreal.  I took a deep breath. 

“It goes faster.”  He chuckled, as if I had no idea.  Maybe I didn’t.  “We can go for a drive sometime, and I’ll show you what it can do.  If you would like.”

“Sounds fun.” 

The car began to slow, and he pointed to a gated driveway.  It had a high scrolling metal arch, and the double gates were open.  I could see the drive winding through tall sentinel trees.  The house was not visible from here, but a little farther up the road, nearing the highway, you could catch sight of the mansard roof sometimes.

“These trees are beautiful.”  I commented as we drove between them at a leisurely pace.

“They are.  They also offer privacy, which my father appreciates.”  He smiled an easy smile.

Gabriel pointed to different areas as we drove, and gave me a little history of the house and its builder.  He said there was a beautiful gazebo he thought I might like.  It was built for the original owners’ daughter, Caroline. 
Caroline
.  The name sounded familiar.