Timepiece

I followed, almost knocking her over when she stopped short.

Em was shaking her head. “Why don’t they see me?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking.”

“Rips. I’ve had conversations with them. They notice me, and I notice them. These rips don’t see me.” She closed her eyes. “The rip at your house yesterday-the soldier I touched didn’t see me coming. The rip the night I went back to save Michael was the same way. I was in a house with a mom and her kids, a small house, but they didn’t see me.”

“Hey,” I said, concerned with her whirl of fear and anxiety. “It’s okay.”

“I actually think it’s a huge sign that it’s not okay at all.” Em reached out to touch the closest rip. As the scene dissolved, she sighed in relief. “We need to get out of here. And then Michael and I need to talk to your dad.”

Chapter 9

Fingertips tapped a staccato rhythm on my bedroom door. I took the ice pack off my ribs and shoved it under my pillow before marking my book with a wayward candy wrapper. I opened the door to my dad.

“Ava is getting settled.” He reached out to ruffle my hair on his way in. A year ago, I would have ducked. Now I fought the urge to lean into his touch. “I’m glad you asked her to move in. Wish I’d thought of it.”

“It’s not like she’ll ever come out of her room.” I noticed a beer bottle cap sticking out from under the edge of my dresser. I walked over, kicked the cap underneath it, and leaned against the edge.

“Maybe not, but we’ll know she’s safe,” Dad said, frowning in the direction of the bottle cap.

“As safe as anyone can be from Jack.” I twisted the drawstrings hanging from the hood of my sweatshirt. “Did you and Em and Mike come to any conclusions about the way the rips are changing?”

“Just combined our observations.”

That was all I was going to get. Something else I couldn’t be trusted with.

“Switching topics.” He sat down on the end of my bed, smoothing out the wedding ring quilt. It had been passed down through my mother’s family and was mine since I was little. I loved the comfort and the weight, knowing generations of Walkers had slept under it. “Have you been taking your emotion control meds regularly?”

“Depends on what you mean by regularly.” I was. But alcohol definitely dulled the effects.

“Daily is preferable. I wondered if something was going on. I’ve noticed a… change between us.” It hurt him to say it. I wasn’t interested in making it easier for him.

“You were dead for six months. A lot of things changed.”

He flinched, as if I’d swung at him and barely missed. “Fair enough.”

“What are you getting at?” People not saying what they meant made me weary. Especially people I cared about. I could do with some complete honesty, but I’d never find it here. Not from Dad.

“You seem more emotional than you used to be. We don’t talk about your mom, you don’t visit her-”

“I don’t want to visit her.” I never went near her room. I was too afraid that if I did, I’d curl up beside her and never leave. I reached for one of the Atomic Fireballs on my bed and popped it in, welcoming the rush of heat.

“Your prerogative.” He didn’t try to hide his disappointment.

“You’ve changed, too.” I shoved my hands into the kangaroo pocket on the front of my shirt, stretching it toward my knees. “You and Michael have secrets. You didn’t… before.”

“I had other adults to depend on before.”

But I’m your son.

I wanted to say that out loud. Instead, I pushed the candy into my cheek, feeling the roundness of it stretching my skin. “You aren’t going to change your mind about the rest of us helping?”

“Not right now. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Why don’t you have some faith in your dear old dad?”

“Maybe you should have some in us.” I said around the candy, exhaling to cool off my mouth and to distract myself from my own emotions. It didn’t work. Biting down hard, I broke the Fireball in half and traced the circles inside it with my tongue.

“It’s not a matter of faith in you. My interests lie strictly in keeping you safe.” He stood. “Consider this the end of the discussion. Understand?”

I didn’t answer him.

“I promised Thomas and Dru we’d help them finish up the move. We’ll leave for the Coles’ at five. I’ll meet you at the car.”

Em was moving in next door. A mile down the road to be exact, but she and her family would still be our closest neighbors.

Since Thomas was so slammed during Pumpkin Daze, Dad had offered the use of our combined muscle mass to help situate the furniture. Michael’s convertible already occupied one side of the driveway by the time we arrived. I hung back once Dad got out.

“All right,” I lectured my reflection in the rearview. “You will behave. You will not argue with anyone. Dru is pregnant, so you’ll think of helping her and not yourself, put her needs ahead of your own. You are sweetness and light. Human cotton candy.”

My laugh started as a snicker but ended up a snort.

I opened the Jeep door and stepped out onto the driveway. Into Lily Garcia.

“You really take vanity to a new level.” Her hands were on her hips. “Talking to yourself in the mirror, laughing at your own jokes…”

What had she heard? “Were you spying on me?”

“Your window’s rolled down there, genius.” Her messy bun, combined with the tiny wire-rimmed glasses she wore, gave her a librarian vibe. A slightly sexy, seriously judgmental librarian vibe. “I assume you’re here to help unpack boxes.”

“No, genius, I’m here to help move the furniture.” I made an exaggerated show of flexing my pecs.

“Putting all that beef to use. Too bad your intelligence just atrophies away in that tiny little brain.”

“Aww, you think I’m intelligent?”

She just sighed and turned her back. I followed her up to the house.

Arranging the furniture didn’t take too long. Thomas came in halfway through and stole a kiss from Dru, rubbing her belly before he got to work. Dad watched them out of the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t stop watching them. His intense ache for my mother never eased. When I couldn’t take any more, I stepped outside on the back deck to cool off, to put some distance between myself and my father’s heartache. Leaning back against the outside wall, I closed my eyes and listened to the brisk breeze rustling the tree branches. I smelled burning leaves, the best part of living out in the country in the fall, in my opinion. Unless you counted bonfires. And hayrides.

Hayrides were the perfect place to make out with a girl and get away with grabby hands. Could always blame it on bumpy farm roads.

I was almost ready to go back to the house, when I heard two people arguing in the side yard. I couldn’t get back up the stairs to the porch without my heavy boots echoing on the wooden plank stairs, so I listened.

“You have to let me do it.” Urgency saturated Lily’s voice. “Why won’t you?”

“Your grandmother will freak,” Em answered. “She’ll freak, cause me bodily harm, and she’ll never make me another Cubano. She’s made it very clear that you aren’t allowed to look for people.”

“You are my best friend. That makes it different.” For the first time, I noticed Lily’s slight Spanish accent. It probably became more pronounced when she was angry or upset, like she was now.

I peered around the house to find that the ferocity of Lily’s emotions matched her expression.

“I said no.” Em’s denial almost outmatched Lily’s insistence. “You’re loyal, and your loyalties to Abi should outweigh any you have for me. She’s your family.”

Lily grabbed Em’s hands. “So are you. This time, what Abi doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’m not going to break her rule. Not exactly.”