Hourglass

  “Thomas told me part of your story—you started seeing things just before your parents died. His renovation sites seem to trigger it.”

  “Anything else?”

  Michael took a deep drink of iced tea before speaking, appearing to choose his words carefully. “He mentioned that you had a pretty rough road.”

  I stared at my plate, too self-conscious to look at him. “Did he tell you I was hospitalized for a while?”

  “He did. But he didn’t tell me why. I asked him to leave it up to you.” His voice was quiet, comforting.

  “It was for depression. Mostly.” Keeping my eyes down, I picked up what was left of my dinner roll and began to tear it into small pieces. “I started seeing rips. Not too long after that, my mom and dad … died. I kind of went over the edge. It wasn’t pretty. I was committed and medicated. Heavily medicated. Everything went away. Not just what I could see—the rips—but my personality, my desires, all of it. I was like a shell.”

  Less than a shell.

  “It was good for a while, being empty. I didn’t hurt anymore. But as time went on, it was like I could hear myself from far away, begging for permission to come back.” I tore the small pieces of dinner roll into smaller pieces. “Once I was released from the hospital and away at school, I found a counselor, Alicia. It helped to be able to talk to someone, tell her everything.”

  Almost everything, anyway.

  “I stopped taking the meds last Christmas.” I couldn’t believe I was telling him so much, but the words kept spilling out. Something about his eyes and the way he seemed to look right into me without judgment made me talk. “Thomas and Dru don’t know. I don’t want them to worry about me, and they will if they know I’ve gone ‘all natural.’”

  “Unless you’re trying to make a pile of bread crumbs to find your way home, you should probably give that roll a break.” Michael’s voice barely hid his concern. My heart stumbled a little, but the tenderness in his voice kept me from falling.

  I dropped the remains of the bread, crossed my arms over my chest, and continued. “As the chemicals left my system, I started seeing things again. It only happened a couple of times last semester. I saw a rip at my friend Lily’s place earlier this summer. Then yesterday I saw a Southern belle in a hoopskirt and a guy in my living room, and then last night, there was the …”

  “Jazz trio, yeah.” He twisted the silver ring on his thumb. “Are you glad you aren’t taking the medication anymore?”

  “I hated it. I never felt like I was in control, although crazy people don’t generally get to claim self-control as a personality trait.”

  “Stop.” Michael’s voice wasn’t loud, but the word was a command. “You are not crazy. What you see is real, Emerson. It’s valid; you’re valid. What you went through was horrible—losing your parents.”

  Losing my mind.

  “All I’m saying is … please don’t be so hard on yourself.” He reached as if he were going to touch my hand but pulled back. “Cut yourself some slack.”

  His words sent a wave of relief through me. Not just what he said, but the way he said it, as if he wouldn’t accept any other alternative. Some of the anxiety broke loose and flowed away, and the release was sweet. Tears filled my eyes.

  “Oh, damn. I’m not a crier, I swear. I never cry. I hate to cry.” I wiped my eyes on my napkin before any of the tears fell. He flagged down the waitress and asked for the bill, giving me some time to regain my composure.

  “It’s on the house,” she said brightly, her eyes flicking briefly to me before giving Michael a tentative smile.

  “Thanks.” He smiled back. When she walked away, he dropped a twenty on the table.

  Nice tipper. Always a good character trait.

  After a few seconds I looked up at him. “Thank you.” He nodded. I knew he understood I wasn’t thanking him for dinner.

  “You want to get out of here, go to your place?”

  Chapter 8

  It took a few seconds before I remembered to blink.

  He didn’t bother hiding his grin. “So you can show me the lofts?”

  “Oh, right, yes, lofts. Good. Lofts. You ready to go?” I stood, knowing my cheeks sported a ridiculous shade of red.

  We walked through the restaurant to the bar area, and his hand accidentally brushed the small of my back, the heat so focused where he touched me that the rest of my body felt chilled. I looked up at him from the corner of my eye. He put his hand in his pocket.

  Behind the bar, Dru counted bottles of red wine while the bartender loaded them into a teakwood rack. “Dru? Michael wants to see the lofts. Can I use the master?”

  “Sure.” She pulled a set of keys from her pocket and removed one from the ring, giving it to me. Her gaze darted back and forth between the two of us as her face registered surprise, or maybe concern.

  I was sure she noticed her flawless makeup application was smudged.

  We walked through the town square in silence. My emotions were ridiculously close to the surface, as if my insides were flipped to the outside, but the feeling of vulnerability didn’t scare me. As I showed him the two lofts, the energy still hummed between us, keeping all my senses on overdrive. Even though the mood was intense, I was experiencing an unknown. For the first time in a long time, I felt … safe.

  We stepped into the hall, and I locked the door to the last loft before turning to face him.

  “I like both spaces. Thomas and Dru can put me wherever they want.” Michael rocked back on his heels. He stared into my eyes for a few seconds, those seconds stretching into what felt like hours as he reached out until his fingertips were an inch from mine.

  “Are you sure?” I asked in a low whisper.

  “It’s not going to go away,” he whispered back. “Might as well get used to it.”

  Bracing myself for the jolt of energy, I gave him my hand.

  It was better than I remembered.

  I was grateful that the hallway lights were more ambient than bright. I didn’t know where to look when they flickered.

  Michael seemed to be fighting some sort of internal battle, his face full of indecision. I started to tremble. The jolt settled into a low hum; even so, with all the sparks we were throwing off, we could possibly light the Southern Hemisphere.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low, full of regret. His hand felt warm and solid in mine.

  “For what? It’s definitely different, but I’m fine.” Basically. Getting a full-body buzz with a guy I’d just met was as weird as seeing dead people. But much more enjoyable.

  “Not the … touching thing. The ripple thing. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all of it by yourself.”

  “Thanks, but alone is kind of how I work.” Carefully extracting my hand, I stepped back slowly to make sure my knees were working and that my legs would hold me up.

  “Just remember I’m here to help.” Michael dropped his hand down by his side. “I plan on sticking around until you tell me to leave.”

  Or until my brother stopped paying him.

  “Well, I should probably”—I gestured toward my door—“go. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  I watched him walk away and held on to the doorknob, trying to keep myself upright, feeling the connection between us stretch down the hall and all the way out the front door.

  I used the master key to get into the loft, laying it on the cold marble counter in the kitchen.

  Intending only to take a quick shower to wash the powder from my arms and chest, the warm spray and the quiet seduced me. My skin was pink and pruned by the time I emerged and slipped on my pajamas. I pulled back the down comforter and ran my hand over the snow-white sheets, appreciating the concept of high thread counts.

  The family pictures on my bedside table caught my eye. One was of Thomas and Dru—tan and smiling—and the other was of me. Mine was hollow, empty. It was from some vacation taken in an attempt to distract me after my parents died. From Disney to the Bah
amas, none of them had.

  Another was of my parents, from their last Christmas. I picked up the heavy silver frame and looked into the familiar faces I would never see again, unless my parents appeared to me as rips. I didn’t know if I feared that or desired it.

  Tonight’s conversation about my past had opened a wound. The wide hole my parents’ deaths left had been sutured by time, but talking with Michael loosened the threads. Seeing the picture tore them open.

  I’d never been as honest with anyone as I’d been with Michael. He made me feel safe, like I could be real—shattered and fragmented and wholly imperfect—even though he was the polar opposite. Intact, complete, fully perfect.

  And totally off-limits.

  I looked back at the picture, tracing the outline of my mother’s face, thinking that if she were still alive I would go to her room, curl up on her bed, ask her for advice.

  Instead, I lay down, turning off the bedside lamp and holding the picture close to my heart.

  Just before I drifted off, I sensed someone, but I was too close to sleep to tell if it was a dream or reality. I couldn’t think of any reason why a long-dead man from the past would be worried about me.

  But Jack appeared to be sitting on the foot of my bed, a look of intense concern on his face.

  I blinked, and he was gone.

  Chapter 9

  I woke up the next morning feeling raw, like my usual armor was missing. My comfortable layer of protective sarcasm had slipped. I needed it back to be able to deal with everything I’d learned. More sparring with Thomas was just the ticket. He always brought out my A game. Between a good argument with him and my Chucks, I should be able to get my life back on track.

  He sat at the table in the kitchen with his silk tie thrown over his shoulder, comfortably eating the same breakfast he’d eaten every morning since I could remember: Fruity Pebbles. The smell of sugar and fruit flavoring permeated the air around him, food coloring and preservatives beginning the embalming process where he sat. That seemed like a good enough place to start.

  “It’s so encouraging to see an entrepreneur such as yourself starting the day with a healthy breakfast.” I walked behind him, intending to flip his tie into his bowl. “The economic future of our little town hinges on whether or not your blood sugar drops before your morning snack of Ho Hos and a Yoo-hoo.”

  Thomas snaked a hand up and grabbed my wrist before I could get to his tie. “Good morning, little sister. I hope we aren’t grumpy because we didn’t get a good-night kiss?”

  I ran my free hand through his perfectly groomed blond hair just to piss him off. “How do you know whether or not I got a good-night kiss?”

  “Excellent security in these buildings. Security guards, security systems, security cameras.” He pulled me around to face him. “That way I won’t have to worry about anything inappropriate happening. Since it is strictly a professional relationship.”

  “You were spying on us? Are you trying to start a fight?” I asked, jerking my arm away. The bowl of Fruity Pebbles hovered dangerously close to becoming an accessory. “What does it matter if we run off to Vegas and get married—all you want him to do is help me be ‘normal,’ right?”

  “Michael and I have an agreement. No employee/client relationships. He has a job to do, and I expect him to do it. I’m not kidding, Em.”

  My upper lip trembled, and I had an irrational desire to cry. What was my problem? I considered unloading my frustration on Thomas, but he was saved when Dru came running into the kitchen from their bedroom, waving something in her hand and screaming.

  My brother jumped up from his chair, cereal forgotten as he scooped Dru into his arms. With all the laughing and crying, I couldn’t understand a word they were saying.

  “Put me down, Thomas!” Giving him a smacking kiss, she wiggled until he placed her feet tenderly on the ground. I finally realized what she held in her hand.

  A pregnancy test.

  Several emotions passed through me as the truth hit. Gratitude, because I knew they had wanted this for a very long time. Joy, because I knew my family was expanding in the best possible way. And finally, my familiar nemesis, anxiety, because where would I live once the baby was born?

  Dru must have read the concern on my face, because she pulled me into a tight hug.

  “Don’t worry! We’ve been holding out on renting the third loft for this very reason—in case we needed to expand. After all this time, we didn’t want to set ourselves up to be disappointed, but we couldn’t help it. Auntie Em isn’t going anywhere. Unless you want to.”

  “No! No, I want to stay.” It was true. “As long as you’ll have me.”

  “We want you here with us. All three of us.” Thomas reached out for my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. I hadn’t seen him this happy in a long time. The way that he looked at Dru made me feel the need to disappear.

  “I think I’m going to head out for a run, give you two some time to, um, talk about nursery colors. Congratulations. You’re going to be amazing parents.” I hurried to my bedroom, tears close to the surface, threatening my badass reputation. I quickly changed into a sports bra and running shorts, grabbing a hair elastic and carrying my shoes and iPod to put on outside. Dru and Thomas were nowhere to be seen as I walked through the living room. The closed door to their bedroom suggested they were celebrating the way I thought they would.

  Good thing I ran distance.

  I cranked the volume, letting classic alternative rock numb my brain. I didn’t want to think about anything but running and breathing. The late-summer day was perfect, leaves just tinged with color, stirring in the slight breeze. I couldn’t wait until they blazed red and gold and the shop fronts were decorated with fat orange pumpkins and spicy-smelling mums.

  I wondered if Michael would still be around then.

  People were out en masse, walking dogs, pushing babies in strollers, enjoying runs of their own. I cruised along the sidewalk toward Riverbend Park, settling into a moderate pace as I followed the path some genius developer I was related to put in place a couple of years ago to appeal to local families and tourists.

  Thomas and Dru brought so much to our town. They met when he left a prestigious architectural firm and started his own business, his main goal to renovate downtown Ivy Springs. She was new to the design business and consulted on his first job. It began as a professional relationship, but it didn’t take long for that to change. They’d been married for six months when my parents died.

  I fiercely loved both of them, and I knew they felt the same way about me. The guilt of not being completely honest with them about the medication situation ate away at me. But I really didn’t want them to worry, and now that a baby was on the way … well. They had other things to think about, even though Thomas had apparently appointed himself as the boss of my love life. Maybe now he’d be so consumed with picking out names and setting up a college fund that he’d leave me alone. Kicking my pace into high gear, I kept my eyes to the ground to avoid any surprises and settled into my rhythm.

  Until I slammed into a solid wall of muscle, hitting it so hard my teeth rattled. Clenching my fists in front of my face and jumping back into a wide stance, I faced my would-be attacker.

  Michael.

  My scream died in my throat, and I jerked my earbuds from my ears. “What the—you can’t scare people like that!”

  Michael’s mouth formed an O of surprise, and then he doubled over, laughing so hard he gasped for breath. Staring down angrily at him, I couldn’t help but admire the muscle tone in his tanned arms and legs. When he looked up at me, his gaze turned appreciative. Wishing I’d thrown on a T-shirt instead of just a sports bra, I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping it made me look pouty instead of self-conscious.

  Michael tried to arrange his face into a serious expression, going through several before finally settling on one. “I’m sorry. Jumping out at you was not a smart move.”

  “It’s fine.” It really wasn’t.

>   “I just didn’t expect you to go all ninja on me.” Michael lost the battle and gave himself over to laughter again. I found myself wishing I’d managed to land at least one solid kick before I figured out who he was. I glared at him for another moment then resumed my run.

  It took him a few seconds, but soon I could hear him pacing me. It had to be hard for him since his legs were so much longer than mine, but I didn’t care. He deserved to suffer. We ran in silence for a while until I snuck a sideways look at him. He was still laughing. I stopped so fast he ran right past me.

  Spinning around, he clasped one hand over his mouth. He would have been wise to put the other hand over his eyes because they were giving everything away.

  “Michael, knock it off.”

  He reached out, hooked his arm around my neck, and pulled me to his side. I waited for him to give me a noogie and tried not to be intrigued by the full-body tingle.

  “I apologize,” he said, but I heard the smile in his voice. “I really do. You’re just so damn cute.”

  “And so damn sweaty,” I said, looking up at him sideways.

  Maybe it was our close proximity, or that he had his arm around me and we were both sweating and breathing hard. All I knew was that even though I was hotter than hell, the second our eyes met my whole body convulsed in one giant chill. Our gaze stayed locked for an endless moment before he released me and gently pushed me away.

  “Truce?” Michael asked hesitantly, holding out one hand.

  I struggled to catch my breath, willing my gooseflesh to disappear. When I finally regained control, I gave him a sweet smile and reached out to shake.

  Then I flipped him over my shoulder.

  As he lay on the ground panting, I walked to stand over him, looking down, my smile still in place. “So I’ll see you later?”

  He blinked once. I took that as a yes.

  Chapter 10

  When I got back to the loft, Dru and Thomas were gone. I felt great. The sass was back. It’s amazing what flipping a grown man over her shoulder does for a girl.