by Tyra Lynn
“No.”
“Can you tell me what it means then?” I was trying not to be demanding in any way, but he had to tell me something.
“It means exactly what you think it means.” His voice was gruffer than I’d ever heard it. Usually it was smooth.
My heart did a summersault this time, and landed badly. My chest constricted, my stomach followed, and for a moment, I thought I was going to throw up. Everything blurred, I swayed slightly, and Gabriel's arm was around me instantly.
I could tell he was trying very hard to comfort me, wrap me in that safe, protective energy, or whatever it was. The panic would not be stifled this time. “What is the point to this, Gabriel? In a few minutes, or hours, or days, or weeks, none of it will matter, none of it will have existed.”
“You’re wrong, Jessie. It will have existed.”
“WHY? Why would it exist and then not? I don’t care how, that doesn’t even matter. I could care less how! I want to know why!” This was all stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
“Jessie, you’re the one who told me there’s a reason for everything.” His voice was calm and quiet; I had to listen closely to hear his words. He put his other arm around me, moving closer.
“I was wrong!” I hissed the words. I tried to pull away but he only held me tighter.
“Please stop. Please be still.” He was whispering, and it only served to annoy me more.
I knew he was trying to comfort, trying to calm me, but my entire world, small and insignificant as it may be, had been turned upside down and inside out. From the moment I first saw that mirror, my life was screwed. The anger fueled my hysterics, and my hysterics fueled my anger. I never in my life wanted to break something so bad!
“I can’t do this!” I wanted to leave. I pulled and pulled but he would not let me go. I was so angry! If I could touch him by thinking it, then he had better get ready for a shock. Literally.
All my hurt and anger, all my frustration, I concentrated it as hard as I could, grit my teeth until they felt like they might break. Yellow! Yellow lightning that would knock him loose! That’s what I was trying for, what I tried to do.
“Jessie, please, you’re hurting me.” His voice sounded strained, in pain, but he refused to let go. “Please.” It was more like a gasp, and something about it took the fight out of me.
I stopped, and collapsed. My jaws ached with the effort I had put into it, and relaxing them made my teeth throb. My muscles ached and my lungs were on fire. I had hurt myself more than him, I think. I felt the anger try to rise again, but I didn’t have the strength to support it.
I took several deep breaths. He still had me in a death grip, making it hard to get in enough air. As if he could read my mind, he loosened his arms enough to let my chest expand freely.
After my lungs felt better, I refused to look at him. “Could you see it?” I asked, trying not to grit my teeth again.
“No, but I could feel it. What were you trying to do to me?”
I snorted. “Zap you.”
“You accomplished that.” He said it with a hint of admiration.
I kept an angry expression on my face, but looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked like he was still in pain, and as much as I didn’t want to, I felt bad. Why was I being mean to him? He hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Why didn’t you just let go, then?”
“Because I was more concerned with your well-being than with self-preservation, I suppose.” He readjusted his arms around me as if to emphasize his words.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was just trying to make you let go.”
“You’d have had to kill me, or at least have knocked me out.” He laughed a little, and without much humor.
“So now what?”
“I have no idea.” He muttered.
So we just sat there, me with my hands balled into fists in my lap, he with his arms loosely draped around me. He placed his chin on my shoulder after a while, and then we sat some more, silent.
“Was that our first fight?” I asked after the silence became more irritating than the idea of talking.
“Hmm. Indeed, it was.” He replied. I could feel his blue eyes burning a hole in my neck.
I felt him starting to pull at me just a little. I was so angry before that I hadn’t even noticed one way or the other, but now I could feel it. It was a gentle sensation at first, and it made me feel like he was testing, waiting to see what my response would be. I decided to push instead of pull, to see if he would say anything.
He sighed deeply. “So, it’s like that then?” I felt his eyes close as he took a deep breath. “I wish I knew what was best. I wish I knew how to proceed. If letting you go was best...” He left the word hanging.
He wanted something from me, was trying to bait me, and trying to make me reach for him. My mind and heart were in conflict. In my mind, we had just met days ago, and I didn’t believe in the whole ‘love at first sight’ crap. He made me consider it before I knew everything, but the ‘reality’ was we had already met. There had been a lot of ‘first sights’ before the last one, at least first sights of him in the flesh.
But there was also my heart. My heart said there was something more here, something deeper. If there were something deeper, then—then this would be so much worse for him than me. He would remember everything, not like a dream, not like I might remember—if I remembered at all.
God, this sucked. There was no right answer. There was never a right answer to anything involving the heart, but there was even less of a right answer to this. If we had met on the street, or at the café, two strangers seeing each other—what might have happened? Just a glance and we moved on?
No. I don’t think that would have happened, not for me, at least. If I had ever looked into those blue eyes, I would never have forgotten them. Not even if it had been a passing glance. That was the one and only thing I could say with complete confidence.
Those eyes. Those eyes that were willing me to turn and look at them even as I could see them in my mind. If I turned and looked now, I would be lost. Something close to a sob escaped and his arms tightened so slightly it could have been imagined, but I knew it wasn’t. His will was stronger than mine was, and this battle was lost before it began.
As hard as I tried, I could not keep my head from turning, could not keep my eyes from looking. I fought with every ounce of strength I had left, and it was not nearly enough. As our eyes met, his breath rushed out carrying two words.
“Oh, Jessie.”
That was it. That was the last hope I had of any kind of escape, of being able to walk away. As his lips met mine, fierce, yet gentle, I didn’t want to fight any more. He could be gone forever at any moment, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I felt my heart reach out and wrap around his with an intensity I never knew could exist. If I could have pulled every molecule of his into every molecule of mine, I would have. The line between us blurred, and still I couldn’t pull him close enough. I would have breathed him into my lungs, made him part of me forever.
Everything I had ever imagined being able to feel was nothing but a shadow—not even a shadow—just an empty outline. It was the scariest, most exhilarating feeling I had ever had. I ached all over, a desperate longing that made every part of me tingle. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Almost.
He pushed me back on the bed, pinning me beneath him, crushing me into the soft comforter and fluffy pillows. My hands found the back of his neck, my fingers tangling in his soft, black hair. One of his hands was under me, at the small of my back, the other behind my head, keeping our lips locked together.
I had never felt like this before—had I? I froze.
The second I froze, so did Gabriel. We were both breathless. He let his lips slide off mine, down my chin, then to my neck, where he buried his face. He rolled just a little, pulling me with him, so we were still touching as closely as before, only side-by-side.
“What is it?” He whisp
ered against my neck.
How was I going to ask this? I searched every memory I had and found nothing to tell me the answer. “Did we ever—umm—did we—before—umm…?” I couldn’t say the words. I had never even come close with anyone else, but what if—and I didn’t even remember?
His breath was warm against my skin, his lips pressed against my neck. He breathed in and out a few times, and I didn’t know if it was meant to drive me crazy, or if he was trying to slow his breathing down.
“No. The answer is no. I would never have—no, I wouldn’t—not that, no…” It was his turn to be at a loss for words.
I was relieved. I had never thought a lot about it before now. I knew there were plenty of kids at school—well, obviously, since I had two pregnant girls in just one class last year—but I was in no hurry. Maybe I was ridiculously old fashioned, but it was still important to me. Not that I had made some decision to wait until I was married or anything, but once again, if I couldn’t see spending my whole life with someone, then what was the point?
“I’m glad.” I whispered.
“Why are you glad?” He asked. There was no trace of hurt in the question, just curiosity.
“A lot of reasons, but the main one is that I would want to remember.” I laughed quietly.
“Yes, that would certainly be good.” He laughed a little too.
I thought for a moment, wondered if I should ask, or if it was inappropriate. He was older than me, after all, so why not ask. “What is it like?”
He shook his head against my neck, and he sounded insulted. “I wouldn’t know.”
I leaned away from him so I could see his face. His eyes, still darkly passionate, met mine without blinking. “Seriously?”
“Of course seriously.” He meant it.
“Good.” I was very satisfied with that answer. Very. I was thrilled. That meant it was possible he could someday be entirely mine. That thought shocked me. Why did I think that?
“What were all those thoughts?” He was leaning back, scrutinizing my face.
I blushed. “Please don’t make me say.”
“Please don’t make me beg.” He countered, his eyes burning into mine.
I was considering telling him when we both heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. We released each other and scrambled to put some distance between us in case his father swung the door open without knocking. I was frantically running my fingers through my hair to remove a few tangles and Gabriel was smoothing his shirt. We glanced at each other and burst out laughing.
Sure enough, the door swung open with no knock this time. “So glad to find you two in agreeable moods.” He cocked his head to one side, looking from one to the other. I tried to hide my self-consciousness. “Are either of you aware of the time?”
I looked quickly down at my watch. Half an hour! The day had seemed to stretch out forever, yet fly by at the same time. Gabriel and I looked at each other, and I shrugged my shoulders.
“I have everything prepared if you want to help me finish a few things, Jessie.” Gabriel smiled.
“I’d be glad to.” I smiled back.
Mr. Knight looked suspiciously at both of us, shook his head, then turned and walked out, leaving the door open behind him. Gabriel circled around the foot of the bed and held out his hand for me. I gladly took it, allowing him to assist me to my feet.
I helped him finish preparing the food, and it was genuinely fun. I stirred things and tossed things, but mostly I just watched. He had to direct me setting the table, because I had no idea what went where, but even that was a little fun. I didn’t even mind when he laughed at my mistakes, either.
My dad arrived right on time, and Mr. Knight invited him in. Gabriel and I had discussed how to act in front of him, but I just knew my dad would know something was up. We stayed together in the kitchen, washing and drying bowls and utensils, while Mr. Knight showed my dad around the downstairs. When we heard them approach the kitchen, Gabriel tried to make small talk.
“So what is your favorite antique?”
I just looked at him until he hit me with his elbow. “Ow! I mean OH! That’s easy; my dad got me this awesome mirror earlier this week. I always wanted one exactly like…”
“Jessie!” My dad exclaimed as he and Mr. Knight came through the door.
I dried my hands on a towel and hugged my dad. “Hi, Dad. How was your day?”
“Busy.” He laughed. “Looks like yours has been, too.” He glanced around the large kitchen and there was food everywhere. “Exactly how many people are you expecting?” He looked at Mr. Knight as he asked.
“Only the four of us. You must excuse my son. He is quite the cook, and perhaps he outdid himself tonight to make an impression.” Mr. Knights’ eyes looked from Gabriel, to me, to my dad. He was smiling broadly.
Gabriel's smile was a little embarrassed, but he met my dad’s inquisitive gaze and shrugged. “Perhaps.”
We all laughed. Gabriel blushed.
Mr. Knight ushered my dad into the dining room and I assisted Gabriel with serving. Once we were all seated, Mr. Knight bowed his head, and we all followed.
“Thank you, O Lord, for these, thy blessings—this food, which nourishes the body—this company, which nourishes the soul. Each need you meet entirely, in its time. Amen”
We all murmured ‘Amen.’
My dad and Mr. Knight, Thomas, seemed to hit it off. Gabriel and I mostly listened, joining in now and then. We had a little secret. Well, sort of a secret. I think Mr. Knight knew.
We sat directly across from each other, and took turns ‘reaching out.’ It was like a game, and I found it funny that I seemed to be better at it, at least without having to look. Once it felt like we ‘bumped into’ each other, and we both burst out laughing. Maybe we didn’t exactly burst out; we tried not to burst out, which made it even funnier.
Our parents gave us a look, Mr. Knights was stern, and my dad’s was quizzical. We decided it might be best to stop, but dinner was over by then. Gabriel rose and started to clear the table.
“I’ll help.” I said, scooting my chair back.
Gabriel scrambled around to my chair to assist, and Mr. Knight stood. My dad hesitated only a moment, and then also stood. I felt very self-conscious being the center of attention. I grabbed my plate and glass, said an ‘excuse me,’ and headed for the kitchen.
I was placing my dishes in the sink when I felt Gabriel come up behind me. I didn’t turn, I just stood still, and I could feel him standing very close. I got a tingle up the back of my neck. “Stop doing that.” I whispered.
“I should.” He said quietly, but he didn’t.
I shivered just a little. “You have to.”
“You’ll be going home soon.” His voice sounded only an inch from my ear.
“I know.” I couldn’t keep the cheerless sound out of my voice.
“There is one thing…” I felt him stop, could only feel his physical presence behind me now.
I turned around to face him. “What thing?”
“I’m not sure if it would work anyway. I shouldn’t.” He squeezed his eyes shut so I couldn’t see into them.
“If what would work? Now you have to tell me. You can’t just start to say something and then not at least tell me.” I poked his shoulder with a finger and he opened his eyes.
He looked over his shoulder toward the dining room, and then whispered. “I have a theory. I have no idea if it would work.” He took my arm and pulled me farther away from the door. “I think, maybe, if you—I might—okay, I told you how when we go through a mirror and return, we go back to the time we left, right?” I nodded. “I wonder, since you can do what you do, then maybe, if you were looking in the mirror, and I could see you…”
“What mirror?” I wasn’t sure what he meant, or where he was going with this.
“I wonder if I could come to you, in your mirror. In your room.” He looked down, embarrassed.
“Could you?” I asked, excited by the thought.
/>
“I have no idea. There are rules. Not written rules, just things that can’t be done. Too much to explain and no time.” He looked back at the door. “I can go back. I can go back to the mirror we have, in my time. I can watch the mirror, your mirror. If I see you, I could try…”
“Nothing bad could happen, could it?” I asked.
His brows came together. “No, I don’t believe so. It’s up to you, though. Only if you want to try.”
I didn’t have to consider it. I looked at my watch. “What time?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
I looked at my watch again. “Okay, nine-thirty. If you don’t see me, then wait until ten and try again.”
“If I don’t see you, may I call?” He looked at the door again. It sounded like someone may be standing up.
“Yes!”
He grabbed me, kissed me, and released me in less than five seconds. He swung open a cabinet door and stuck his head in it just as his father came through the door carrying a plate and glass. I acted like I was trying to figure out what to put away next. We didn’t fool him.
“So.” He said to no one particular.
“Ah, Father, sorry. Putting some things away.”
I didn’t say a word, just headed for the door, trying not to blush. My dad was just standing up as I walked in. I smiled at him and reached for his empty plate.
“This was delicious! My complements to the chefs.” Dad grinned broadly.
“It was mostly Gabriel. I didn’t do much except stir and stuff.” I grabbed the plate, a bowl, and a glass.
“He’s a fine cook, then.” Dad watched me closely.
I turned toward the kitchen so he couldn’t watch my face. “Yes, he is.” I said over my shoulder.
My dad followed me to the kitchen and complemented Gabriel, who was graciously humble, of course. Dad shook his hand, and looked him in the eye, seeming to reassess him. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. Good, I hoped.
There was more talk between the parents as I helped Gabriel wash the dishes and put them away, as well as store the leftover food. We didn’t talk a lot, since the ‘fathers’ were never out of earshot. We joined them when we were finished.