Hourglass

She leaned over to peer into my eyes before saying with a hint of disgust, “You look like something I’d scrape off the bottom of my shoe.”

“Great, thanks. Not all of us can be naturally gorgeous. I bet you can’t even tell when you have sleepless nights.”

She shoved me out of the way and took over. “Let’s keep you away from heavy machinery until you get your groove on. Why no sleep?”

“The list is way too long.” And if I gave it to her, she’d call for the men in white coats. “Let’s just say I’m facing a challenge.”

“Does it have anything to do with Michael?”

I grabbed the cup of espresso she offered and threw it back in one scalding, exhilarating moment. After I could feel my tongue again, I held out my cup for a refill and said, “Sort of.”

“Sort of.”

“I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Hmph.” Lily turned to start another espresso, and as if the day weren’t already off to a rip-roaring start, an image began to take shape behind her.

Just beyond the register sat a table full of teenagers in poodle skirts and letter sweaters. I knew they had to be ripples, because Murphy’s Law had slick, modern furniture instead of the leather booth with the Formica table where the couples were seated. They joked with a waitress in a pink nylon dress, a gingham-checked apron tied around her waist.

Pretty sure that wasn’t the standard uniform.

“Em? Emerson?” Lily snapped to get my attention. “Where did you go?”

“The nineteen fifties, if those shoes are any indication.” Saddle oxfords. Really.

“What?”

Crap. I’d said that out loud. “Nothing. Just a movie I watched last night. Thinking about it. Sandy and Danny. Beauty School Drop Out. Greased Lightning.”

“Okay.” Lily looked at me strangely as I sang “Shama Lama Ding Dong” under my breath. “I’m going to go pull some piecrusts out of the freezer. You’ll be all right out here by yourself?”

I was busy staring at a dude with enough grease in his hair to cook a pan of biscuits.

“Em?”

“Yes. Yes. Go ahead.” I nodded serenely as she walked into the kitchen.

The second she was gone I scrambled to look under the counter. I had to find something long enough to reach the rips so I could make them disappear. No way could I work a whole shift with the entire cast of Grease two feet away from me.

“Jackpot.”

I popped up, threw my body across the counter, and proceeded to stick a long-handled rolling pin into all the rips I could reach. It wasn’t easy—they started running once Biscuit Boy went down. Busy rip jousting like Don Quixote fencing windmills, I was too distracted to notice Lily backing into the swinging door from the kitchen while balancing a wide metal tray of piecrusts. A millisecond before she turned around I popped the last rip, slid back across the counter, and chucked the rolling pin over my shoulder.

“What was that?” Lily almost dropped the doughy circles as she whipped her head toward the noise.

“Rats. I think you have rats. Really big ones.” I held my hands two feet apart as an example and then leaned against the counter, trying to catch my breath. “Huge. You should probably have Abuela check that out.”

Lily raised one eyebrow, put the tray down, and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “You’re obviously not okay. Are you going to talk to me or am I going to have to drag it out of you?”

Avoidance. I let out a sigh. “I can’t have feelings for him.”

“Why?”

So many reasons. “Number one: I’m not the girlfriend/boyfriend type. I’m the crazy girl at the lunch table in the cafeteria type.”

“Em, that was a long time ago. That doesn’t have anything to do with who you are now.”

It had everything to do with who I was now.

“Number two: He might be his own brand of crazy.”

“Crazy like he’s a serial killer, or crazy like he attends Star Trek conventions in full costume?”

“That’s only crazy if you dress like a Klingon,” I pointed out.

Lily rolled her eyes.

“Neither one of those.” I pushed myself away from the counter, retrieved my espresso cup, and took a slow sip. “Maybe he has a secret, and maybe it’s too outrageous to believe. But everyone has secrets, right?”

“Not everyone.” Her body tensed, and she twisted the dish towel in her hands. “I don’t have any secrets. My life is an open book. Do you have a number three?”

“Um … yes.” I picked up the sugar dispenser and dumped a couple of tablespoons’ worth into my cup, looking at Lily with my peripheral vision. “Number three: Thomas has his ‘no fraternization’ rule, and Michael seems perfectly willing to enforce it.”

She lowered her shoulders and chewed on her bottom lip for a few seconds before responding. “That could be a good thing. It gives you time to get to know him before you decide how you feel.”

“I guess.”

“Take advantage of it. You don’t have to rush things. If he’s worth it now, he’ll still be worth it in a month. Or you could just take advantage of all that pent-up frustration and roll out those piecrusts for me.” Lily walked around the counter and headed for the corner of the café, scooping up the rolling pin from where I’d sent it flying moments before. She rinsed it off in the sink, dried it, and patted it down with flour.

I watched her with my mouth hanging open. “How did you know where that was?”

“What? Um … that’s where I keep it.” A slow flush spread up her neck to her cheeks. “Why do you ask?”

We stared at each other for a seemingly endless moment.

“No reason.”

She held out the pin.

I pushed up my sleeves, took it, and started rolling.

When Lily and I walked out together at the end of our shift, the sun was shining through the disappearing gray clouds, reflecting off the puddles gathered on the asphalt. The humidity was stifling, making my hair feel heavy.

I shoved my jacket into my backpack and grabbed a ponytail elastic out of a side pocket. Stopping above the last step to the sidewalk, I held my bag between my knees and the elastic band in my mouth, twisting up my hair with my hands while I tried to keep my balance.

I froze midtwist when I saw Michael across the street. He was leaning back against a sleek black convertible with the top down, two fingers covering his lips to keep from laughing. He did that a lot. I wondered if it was a habit before he met me.

Lily let out a grunt of appreciation. “Mmm. Santa came early, and look at the deliciousness he brought with him.” She smoothed down her hair and rooted around in her purse, pulling out a breath mint. “Adios.”

“Hold it.” I reached out to grab the strap on her bag, pulling her back. “That deliciousness isn’t available for sampling.”

She turned to face me, eyes wide. “Is that the challenge you were talking about?”

“The challenge that’s off-limits. And occasionally a pain in the ass.” And possibly insane.

“Oh, girl.” Lily shook her head, looking back at Michael with obvious admiration. “I am so sorry.”