Hourglass

“Considering I haven’t talked to him since yesterday, it might include torches and pitchforks.”

“You ready?” He looked toward the back door. “I want to get out of here.”

“Let’s go.”

It seemed as if there was trouble in paradise.

I could only hope.

Chapter 28

I dropped Michael off at his car, and we planned to meet at Murphy’s Law once we got back to Ivy Springs. I owed Lily an explanation. Before going into the coffee shop I checked my voice mail. Seven messages from Thomas.

My ass was grass, and big brother was the lawn mower.

I parked and crossed the town square, trying to figure out what in the world I was going to say to Lily. I paused outside Murphy’s Law to try to come up with a good story. Or at least a decent lie.

Through the plate-glass window I could see her leaning against the counter, staring off into space. Her fingers held a pencil that moved at a furious pace across a pad of paper. I opened the front door and the jangling bell caught her attention. She shoved the pencil and drawing into her apron pocket and put her hands on her hips.

“Girl.”

The emphasis she placed on the word asked a hundred questions at once.

“It’s not what you think,” I said defensively.

“Then I’m very disappointed for you.”

That made two of us. “I haven’t been with him since he picked me up here! Last night, I had to go out for … something, and I ran into Michael and it got late and we lost track of time and—”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.” She took the dishrag from her shoulder and began polishing the counter needlessly. “Your secrets are yours to keep.”

“Lily, please.” I reached out and pulled the cloth from her hand. “I’m not trying to keep anything from you. This … thing … with Michael is more than complicated. Please believe me.”

“It’s okay. I understand. But you have to throw me a bone and tell me if the personality is as hot as the package.”

I gave her a slow grin before faking a heart attack, clutching my chest, and backing up a few steps. Falling against the counter, I slid to the floor, twitched a couple of times for effect, and then burst into giggles.

“You are not right,” Lily said, but she laughed as she pulled me to my feet. I handed her the dishrag and reached behind her for a to-go coffee cup. I was starting to drag after the long night. Being around Michael kept my energy up, and now that he wasn’t close to me it felt like I was coming down from an adrenaline high.

“Can I talk to you seriously for a sec?” I pulled the lever on the coffee machine that dispensed the bold blend, inhaling deeply when the liquid began to fill my cup.

“What’s up?”

“Do you ever wonder what your life would be like now, if your parents were here instead of in Cuba?”

“Yes.” She pulled up the bar stools she kept behind the counter in case things were slow and she had a moment to sit. “All the time. Are you wondering what it would be like if yours were still alive?”

“I am.” I clambered onto my stool. Lily and her long legs made everything look so effortless. I practically needed a stepladder. “I wonder about the whole depression thing, too. If the accident never happened, if my parents had been there for me to lean on—would I have been able to handle everything better than I did?”

“You’ll never know. And you can’t go back in time. No one can.”

I didn’t see any point in correcting her.

“The thing is, Em, you don’t know if you struggled with the depression because of your circumstances or if it’s a chemical thing. You might have to deal with it again. So you do everything you can to keep yourself well, whether that means meds or counseling or … whatever.” She threw up her hands. “Vigorous exercise … I don’t know.”

We both laughed. Lily knew I didn’t like to talk about my depression, but whenever we did, she always made a tremendous effort to affirm me, and my choices. Another reason to love her.

“What do you think about the supernatural?”

She frowned. “You mean like werewolves or ghosts?”

“Maybe, but more like superhero stuff—special abilities like mind reading or precognition.”

Or manipulating time.

Raising one eyebrow skeptically, she asked, “Did you walk away from your drink last night? Did somebody slip you something?”

“Lily, I’m serious.”

She chewed the nail of her pinky finger, silent for a moment, frowning. “I don’t have an opinion.”

“You have to have an opinion,” I argued. “Are you really going to tell me you haven’t ever thought about it?”

“No, I haven’t. And I really don’t want to think about it now,” she said firmly.

“Hey, it’s cool.” I’d never seen Lily react that way to a simple question. “I just wondered.”

“When do you see Delicious again?” Lily shifted on her stool, folding the cloth in her hands in half.

“He’s going to meet me here so we can go talk to Thomas. He wasn’t very happy his little sis spent the night out.”

“Does your brother have a gun? If so, get Delicious a bulletproof vest. That boy is way too pretty to have a big hole in him.”

“No,” I said, laughing at the thought of my straightlaced brother with a firearm. “Thomas doesn’t have a gun. I’m sure everything will be fine once we explain.”

At least I hoped it would.

“Explain about how you just lost track of time,” Lily said. “Right?”

“Um … right.”

I had been keeping my own counsel for years. I didn’t know what it was like to truly confide everything in a friend, and here I was, wishing I could tell Lily all of it. There were too many secrets in my life.

The bell jangled again as someone entered the coffee shop. I knew it was Michael when my energy level jumped ten notches. He walked up to the counter, smiling at Lily.

“Michael,” I said, “this is Lilliana Garcia.”

Lily, usually articulate and poised—the perfect example of grace—just sat on her stool and giggled.

“Nice to meet you, Lilliana.”

“Call me Lily.” Her voice did the Marilyn Monroe thing, and I wondered if Michael had that effect on every girl he met.

“Nice to meet you, Lily.” He flashed another smile, and I heard her whimper under her breath. When he looked at me, his expression softened. “Em, you ready to face the music?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Lily stared at Michael as if she would scale Mount Everest and swim the English Channel if he asked. I snapped to get her attention. “Lily? Lily? ”

“Yes?” She dragged her eyes away from him and cleared her throat before she spoke. The husky voice was wasted on me anyway. “Yes?”

“Unless Thomas locks me in my room, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good luck.” Her fingers fluttered in a feminine wave. “Bye, Michael.”

We turned to leave, and I noticed Lily making wild gestures to get my attention behind Michael’s back. When I looked over my shoulder, I was treated to a mimed performance of a full-blown body slam. And maybe some French kissing, but I closed my eyes before I could be sure.