Tempus (32 page)

Strange.  I was
certain
that was my mom.  I flipped over several other pictures.  They had no names on the back, but every one of them had, in tiny letters on the bottom right,
‘
A.M.W
.
’
  A for Analise?

I shoved all the pictures back in the box, closed it, and placed it back on the shelf.  I slammed the roll-top and ran downstairs.  In the formal living room, I tried to gauge how far I had to go to get to the end table that held the photo album I wanted. 

There was so much stupid stuff in the way.  If I moved a thing, Dad would know, but for today I didn’t care.  I started un-stacking boxes and junk, moving them to the side and working forward.  It seemed to take forever, but at last I could see the table.

Once I cleared a few more things out of the way, I could reach the drawer.  I slid it open and pulled out the photo album.  I wanted to open it right then, but I was surrounded by a mountain of junk that needed to be put back, if possible.

It took twice as long to put everything back, and I knew it didn’t look the same.  If Dad asked, I’d just tell him the truth.  I didn’t want to hurt him, but maybe he needed to know his daughter couldn’t even see pictures of her mother without literally moving mountains.

I didn’t make it fancy, I just piled stuff back.  I shoved the last box on top, grabbed the album, and made a run for my room.  I was so filthy, and I wanted to get the dust off, but that would have to wait.

I placed the photo album on the area rug in front of my bed and flipped it open.  The first page had pictures of Mom, Grandma, and Grandpa on Mom’s fifth birthday.  I flipped rapidly through all the pages.  My Grandparents were in most of them.

I turned back to the first page, lifted the protective film, and removed the photo.  The handwriting was entirely different from the younger photos.  On the back it said,

 
‘
Ana—Age 5
.
’

I removed photo after photo.  Always the name ‘Ana,’ never Eliana.  All of them in the same handwriting.  Analise, Eliana—both Ana.  What was my mom’s real name?  Would Mom and Dad lie to me?  My heart started pounding, and so did my head.

I grabbed my phone and stared at it.  Was I looking for answers, or just making an excuse?  His dad was a History professor, after all.  They knew how to do research.  It was
logical
.  I didn’t know what else to do, and I couldn’t ask my dad.

I hit the redial button.

One ring and, “Hello?”  Even his
voice
was beautiful.

“Hi, Gabriel, it’s Jessie.”  My voice was mousy and weak.

“Jessie!  I am so happy to hear from you!”

“I…” What was I going to say without sounding ridiculous?  “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I thought maybe you could help me with something.”

“
Anything
, just ask.”  His voice sounded sincere, maybe even concerned.

I explained everything the best I could.  Even as I said it all, I knew how crazy I sounded.  It’s not as if my mom was some super-spy, or was in witness-protection or something.  But still, something was weird, I could feel it.  There was some secret, and I wanted to know what it was.

I gave him all the information I had on my mom; birthday, where she said she was born, eye color, social security number, drivers license number, everything I could think of.  I also gave him my Grandparents names and address.  Dad would have been mad about that, but I swore Gabriel to secrecy.  Though I couldn’t say why, I believed completely that I could trust him.

He promised to call if his dad found anything, and asked me to call if I thought of anything else important.  I hung up the phone wondering what in the world I had just done.  Gabriel didn’t even act surprised, but he sounded—it just now struck me as odd—like he had learned something very
important
.

Why was I always dragging people into things?  My head felt so muddled.  My dreams and memories were getting mixed up, and I wasn’t sure who I had told what, and why.  I wasn’t
always
dragging people into things, was I?  No.  Nope.  The opposite—I kept people out.

With my brain still feeling jumbled, I couldn’t stand just sitting around.  My skin wanted to fly off.  I decided cleaning my hands again was a good idea, and maybe putting on some lotion or something.  The little red spots were barely visible now, but I had been moving nasty boxes and stuff, and some were noticeable because they had dirt in them.  Another bath, that would make me feel better.

I was starting all over again.  Bath, hair, makeup, clean clothes.  I
hated
repeating things.  It was especially annoying today for some reason.  My mood was foul and suddenly
everything
was irritating.

Once I had cleaned up, I thought maybe taking a leisurely stroll to the square would be helpful.  Lunch with Steve would be good for me right now.  Maybe Dad would even let him leave a little early.

Getting out of the house had a positive effect right away.  Feeling the breeze against my face helped clear my head a little, and the warmth of the sun felt good on my shoulders.  I was distracted and still a little muddle-brained, but I knew where I was going, and nutty as it sounded, it felt like I at least had a goal.

I passed house after house, barely noticing them.  A few people waved and I instinctively waved back, but kept my pace.  I wasn’t up for conversation with anyone. 
Damaged
.  That’s how I felt.  Why would they ever lie to me? 
Had
they lied to me?

One plus one is two.  Two plus two is four.  Three plus three is six.  I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands.  Four score and seven years ago.  A, B, C, D, E, F, G.  Random thoughts to keep from thinking.  Random thoughts, all the way to the square.

It was close enough to noon that I might get lucky.  If they weren’t busy, and Dad was in a good mood, I might be able to steal Steve
now
.  I crossed the two intersections without any mishaps and went around to the back.  I peeked my head in the door, and didn’t see anybody in the back room.

I slipped quietly inside, shutting the door carefully behind me.  I crept across the floor to the door to the front and listened.  I could hear both Dad and Steve talking to someone.  They were asking about wood cleaners.  I recognized the voice.  Mr. Patel, the mirror man.

The conversation was boring, but at least it gave me something to concentrate on, and hearing Steve talk made me feel better.  I tried to concentrate on every word he said, on the sound of his voice.  He laughed at something, and it was such a nice laugh.

I don’t know how long I listened, but I eventually heard the register, then the bell on the front door.  Steve said, “I’ll be right back.  Need to go to the
little room
.”

My dad laughed and said, “Don’t get lost.”

I pressed myself against the wall so the door wouldn’t hit me, and listened as the footsteps approached.  I held my breath and waited.

The door swung open, and Steve strode purposefully through and toward the bathroom.  The door closed slowly enough he didn’t have time to catch me out of the corner of his eye in his haste.  I watched him turn down beside the rows of shelves and thought how cute he looked today.  He was dressed up a little more than usual for work, though he always looked nice.  I liked the thought that it was probably for me.

I just stood there against the wall and waited.  If my dad came in now, I had no idea what I was going to say.  Just as the thought crossed my mind, I heard the bell on the front door.  Yes!  Now I knew where the old cliché had come from.  I smiled.

It wasn’t long before I heard the bathroom door open and Steve's returning footsteps.  He came around the corner, lost in thought, and then noticed me standing against the wall.  A huge smile broke out across his face and I held a finger up to my lips before he could say anything.

He crossed the room in five long steps, put his arms around me, and kissed me.  “You surprised me.”  He whispered.

“That was my intention.”  I whispered back.

He stepped back, holding me at arms' length.  “You look beautiful.”  His green eyes were so bright.

I smiled.  “So do you.”

He pulled me back close and leaned down to my ear.  “I missed seeing you last night.”

“Me too.”  I said.

We just stood there a few moments, until we heard the front door again.  My dad’s voice called from the front, “You lost?”  Then he chuckled.

Steve laughed.  “Actually, I’m
found
.”  He replied, stepping back and taking my hand.

We walked through the door to the front.  My dad looked surprised for a second, and then smiled at me.  “Hi sweetheart, I suppose you came to steal my help for lunch?”

“I did.”  I glanced at Steve and back at my Dad.

“Go on, then.  Half an hour, please.  I forgot I had an appraisal to do today, but it can wait a little longer.”

I gave my dad a quick hug.  “I’ll have him back in no time.  You won’t even have time to miss him.”  I promised.

I tugged on Steve's hand, moving toward the front door.  I could hold hands in front of my dad, but it still felt just a little weird.  I was going to have to get used to it, I guess, if we kept going out.

As we exited the door, Steve pulled his hand loose and put his arm around me.  “This okay?” He asked.

I put my arm around him and hooked my thumb in his belt loop.  “It’s fine by me.”

Steve squeezed my shoulder, and I squeezed his waist.  I was feeling clingy suddenly, and a little guilty.  I had just had a shock, well, two if you counted almost falling to my death.  Funny I should think of that one last.  I needed something,
someone
, solid to hold on to.  Someone who didn’t make me feel even more off-balanced just by their presence.

Steve was filling me in on the day, and it had been a busy one.  I caught most of what he said, even though it was hard to concentrate completely.  I looked up at his face while we waited to cross the last corner.  There was stubble on his cheeks, and it looked incredibly attractive.  I reached up with my free hand and touched it.

“Forget to shave this morning?”  I asked.

His cheek wrinkled as he grinned.  “Actually, I did.”

“I like it.  It’s
manly
.”  I laughed.

“I’ll remember to forget to shave more often, then.” 

The walk sign lit up, and we crossed.  It wasn’t far to Vivienne's, and as we reached the front, Steve removed his arm and held the door for me.  I stepped inside and felt like I had walked into a brick wall.

The place was crowded again with the early eaters.  At a table near the back was the one person I did
not
want to see while on a lunch date with Steve—Gabriel Knight—and his dad.

He was facing the door, and for a second I felt like he had been waiting for me, watching the door.  Our eyes locked for just a second, and what could only be described as a look of agony crossed his face.  He immediately looked down, and I noticed his dad’s back stiffen, almost imperceptibly.

I felt Steve's arm go around my shoulder again.  I had a feeling he had seen Gabriel, too, because it felt more possessive than affectionate.  I wasn’t sure if I was right, or if my dad’s words had affected my perception.  I wasn’t sure until Steve said, “Hey, there’s the new guy.”

“Oh?  Where?”  I hoped my words sounded better to Steve than they did to me.

“Back in the corner.  We should say hello.”  He steered me toward the back, and I wanted to resist.

“That’s kind of rude, don’t you think?  They’re eating.  You should just get his attention and wave or something.”

Gabriel looked up slightly, his hands gripped together tightly in front of him.  I felt Steve's body move, and I knew he had waved.  Gabriel smiled and waved, then appeared to respond to something his dad said.  His dad turned, nodded politely, and then turned back around.

I felt like there was a spotlight on me.  Jennifer came through the swinging doors carrying a platter of food.  “Jessie!  Steve!”  She called, smiling enormously, as if we were all best friends.  I smiled a little to acknowledge her.

Steve and I made our way to an empty table on the right-hand wall, and he pulled a chair out for me.  I had to sit facing Gabriel's general direction, and it was everything I could do not to look.  I felt like Steve was watching me to see if I would.  He probably wasn’t, but I was so self-conscious it hurt.

“Okay, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”  Steve said after a moment of silence.

My mind raced, but it didn’t have to go far.  “I was looking at pictures of my mom today.”  I put my head down.  That was completely true, yet I felt guilty just saying it.  I felt like I was using the memory of my mom when the pressing issue for me right now was Gabriel's presence.

Steve reached across the table and held out his hand.  I wished my dad hadn’t told me he thought Steve was too possessive.  Every gesture now made me suspicious.  Still, if Gabriel weren’t here, this is exactly what Steve would do anyway.  If Gabriel weren’t here, I wouldn’t hesitate to take that hand.  I took a deep breath and placed my hand in Steve’s.