Talent

by Annie B Matthews

  “Would you-” She stopped, frowned at the chiming ring of her mobile phone. Breaking away from his gaze, she pulled it from her pocket and grimaced as she read the screen.

  “Hey dad.” She felt Jackson watching her, but managed to avoid looking at him. It wouldn’t help to get distracted now. “What’s up?”

  He sounded excited, wary. “Listen, could you be home for lunch? I’ve had a call from work and there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. The timing was awful, but she could hardly deny his request. He was having a hard enough time as it was. “Sure, that’d be great. See you in a bit.”

  She flipped the phone shut and turned to Jackson. “I need to go home.”

  “I’ll drive you,” he gestured her out of the barn in front of him. “I hope everything’s ok.”

  “I guess so; it sounded like good news.”

  Libby worried her lip, impatient as they drove back towards town. The last thing she wanted was to let her dad down. She knew better than anyone how much he was suffering in her mother’s absence. Even so, she wanted to tell Jackson to keep driving. There was so much she wanted to talk about, and she had no time left.

  Jackson wasn’t concerned. His calm helped ease her own anxiety and she flicked him a grateful glance.

  “Thank you.”

  “You shouldn’t worry so much.” Jackson said confidently. “Your mum will be back soon enough and your dad…well, he’s resilient.”

  “Nonetheless…” She took off her seat belt as he turned into her driveway. “He has the worst timing.”

  He killed the engine. “There’s no hurry.”

  Grateful, Libby turned towards him. It felt as though they’d reached a new understanding. Even so, she wasn’t sure what to say, or what the next step might be.

  He solved the problem for her. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Right.” She opened the door and climbed out. “Thanks.”

  “Good luck.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Libby?” Eric was in the kitchen, preparing soup and sandwiches.

  “Hey dad.”

  “Sorry to drag you back.”

  “No problem.” She joined him at the work bench, finishing the sandwiches while he served the soup.

  “So, what’s up with work?”

  “You know, I’m actually enjoying it,” he replied, sounding surprised. “Ed has worked really hard to modify the business since his father died. I’m enjoying being his adviser, watching him decide on new initiatives and so on.”

  “That’s great.” And she wondered why this had necessitated a summons home.

  “Actually, I’m hoping to go to a convention in London next weekend.” He placed the bowls on the table. “I know it’s short notice, but Ed wants a second opinion on the software he’s looking into. Would that be okay with you? You could catch up with Sally.”

  She faltered in the process of plating the sandwiches. There was no way she could go to London. Not now.

  “I have coursework due,” she improvised. “I’m happy to stay here though.”

  She could see him frowning, weighing up the pros and cons of leaving her alone. All she could think about was the opportunity it would give her to find out about this new world of talents, of the time it would give her to sort out how she and Jackson were supposed to muddle through this minefield they found themselves in.

  “I don’t like the thought of you being alone.”

  “I could ask Kelly over.” She grinned. “No parties, I promise.”

  He rolled his eyes. He knew he could trust her on that score. “As long as you're okay with that.”

  Yes. Libby almost sagged in relief. “I’ll text her later.”

  Since she’d nothing else planned for the day, Libby headed back upstairs once she’d finished clearing up after lunch. There was an essay due on Tuesday, so she figured she may as well get it over and done with now she had time on her hands.

  As had become her habit, Libby checked her email. A couple of spam messages, one long one from Sally. She’d read that later. There was nothing from her mother.

  She didn’t expect to hear from her mum, but a part of her always seemed to be disappointed that no email had arrived. She didn’t even know if her mum was checking her emails, wherever she was.

  Now Libby decided it was time to break the silence. It was worth a try. Worst case scenario, her mother would think she'd gone mad.

  Hesitantly at first, she began typing. She started with the constant headaches, the crushing migraine that hit her the day her mother had left. The details might help. Everything pointed to her mother being an empath too; her bizarre mood swings when out in public had begun to make sense, since Libby could feel how she would have reacted the same way without the effort of a block. It was too easy to absorb and reflect the emotions that passed by.

  As for her mother’s sudden departure, Libby had a theory about that too. Her mother loved her father. If she had been experiencing his emotions over the firm’s collapse and their move out of London, Libby had no doubt she would have struggled to cope. How could she, when she felt her husband’s pain and guilt on top of her own? Even Libby had known that behind the brave face her father had been in despair. The whole thing must have been equally devastating for her mother. Although Libby couldn’t quite bring herself to forgive her for leaving as she did, she could at least understand the reasons that drove her away.

  She took a steadying breath as she scanned what she had written. Before she could change her mind, she clicked the send button and reached for her folder.

  She had barely gotten started when her phone beeped. Her heart almost stopped, but it was just a reply from Kelly. All clear for next weekend. Jackson and her dad would be out of town. Libby could stay at the farm if she wanted.

  Jackson would be out of town.

  Libby felt frozen, her relief at being able to stay in Beauton completely disappearing. She managed a reply, accepting the offer. It would make her dad feel better to know she was up at the farm and it would give her more time to speak to Anna.

  Crushed, she tossed the phone back on to the desk and shoved out of her chair. The room felt too small, too confining. The irony of it didn’t evade her. She’d told him they couldn’t have a relationship. She meant it; she hardly knew him and she wasn't about to sacrifice everything she'd worked towards by spending every minute of every day with him. Yet here she was, devastated that he was going away.

  The park lay at the bottom of her street. She sat on one of the swings, closing her eyes as if that would help. Two children raced wildly around the climbing frame as their mother watched with an adoration that made her heart ache. She blocked them all. It wasn’t easy to clear her mind, but she managed it.

  “I’d say you look peaceful, but your expression is closer to murderous.”

  The lazy amusement in his voice had her eyes snapping open. Jackson stood in front of her, his eyes laughing. She stopped swinging as she considered his comment.

  “Let’s walk.”

  She regarded him warily before standing up, releasing the chains slowly. Walking together, keeping a careful distance, she reveled in his company. How had he known how much she had needed him to be here?

  “Okay,” she spoke after a few minutes. “Why were you laughing at me when you dropped me home earlier?”

  He laughed then. “I was. Sorry.”

  “Why?” She stopped, turning to face him in bemusement. “What was so funny?”

  “You,” Jackson replied, still grinning. “You’re the most inquisitive person I’ve ever met. So many questions, so many theories. You were so cross at having to go home.”

  Libby shrugged, returning his smile. “I can’t help it.”

  “I thought I’d better come back and put you out of your misery.”

  And he had. She had the feeling that would always be the case and she had no idea what to do with that.

  They walke
d for a few minutes in silence. Libby had a hundred questions and ran through them all as she decided what to ask next. She deliberately steered clear of the most urgent question, keeping it pushed to the back of her mind.

  Jackson seemed content to wait, although she realized he was following her thought processes and hearing the questions even as she sorted through them. She threw him a sidelong glance.

  “What sort of range do you have, with the mind reading?”

  “It depends. If I know someone well, a few miles. That takes concentration though. Usually it’s just a few metres.”

  “So you can read that guy’s mind?” She gestured towards an older couple sitting on the park bench ahead of them.

  “Yes.”

  She waited. He shook his head. “I never pegged you for a snoop. He wants to break up with her, but feels guilty. It’s her birthday next week.”

  She grimaced. “I wish I hadn’t asked. Have you ever cheated in an exam?”

  He laughed. “I suspect that would be the biggest crime in your eyes,” he teased. “No, I haven’t. Mum and dad are pretty strict.”

  They fell silent as they passed the couple on the bench. They looked happy enough; Libby felt only contentment and a vague glimmer of discomfort from the man, and she realized for the first time that mind reading might not be as exciting as she’d thought. Would it always be a good thing, knowing the truth?

  “How do you have any privacy from your family?” By mutual agreement, they stopped at the next bench and she sat sideways to face him.

  “We don’t pry. It is a choice, you know.”

  “Usually,” she finished, remembering how annoyed he was at not being able to block her thoughts.

  “Usually.” He looked amused, bumped his shoulder against hers. “Go ahead. Ask.”

  Her face reddening, Libby pulled a face. “I feel…like I’m crossing a line or something.”

  “I don’t mind. Ask.”

  She shook her head, blowing out a long breath. “Kelly told me you’re going away next weekend. Why?”

  The directness would have appalled her in any other circumstances, but being subtle was out of the question. He knew everything she was thinking, so there was no point in being coy. It didn’t appear to concern him, since he replied straightaway and she didn’t sense any irritation at her intrusion.

  “It's just overnight. I have an appointment in London.” He grimaced, anticipating the question that formed in her mind. “If I tell you it’s to do with the year out of school, but nothing dreadful, would that satisfy you?”

  She considered. If he didn’t want to tell her, that was his right. “Of course. You’re entitled to privacy.”

  “I wish I could give you the same courtesy.” He replied, frowning. “You should work on your shielding this weekend. Mum’s really good at it and it’d mean you could keep your thoughts to yourself.”

  “It doesn’t bother me too much, now.” She grinned suddenly. “It saves time. Still, I’ll get some coaching.”

  “Good. We’ll be back first thing on Sunday, so you can try out your skills then.”

  “Are you still shielding from me?” She knew he did, since everything she felt from him was muted, but needed to ask.

  “Yes.” He offered no explanation. It went against the grain, but she managed not to push.

  “Well, after this weekend maybe I can shield a bit for you, give you some peace and quiet.”

  “Not too much,” he smiled. “I’ve kind of got used to the running commentary.”

  Grimacing at that, she got to her feet. “Dad will be wondering where I am.”

  Jackson fell into step beside her and they walked towards her house in a comfortable silence.

  “What’s the best thing you’ve ever ‘overheard’?” Libby asked suddenly.

  Jackson grinned. “Oh, that would be telling.”

  “Come on, tell. Just one thing.”

  “You’re so nosey.”

  “I am now,” she laughed. “Did you know Mr Gilbert fancies Miss Jacobs?”

  “Did you know she also likes him?” He countered, smiling.

  Libby squealed in excitement. “Really? Are you sure?”

  She wondered if they could orchestrate some kind of matchmaking situation.

  “No. We can’t,” Jackson rolled his eyes. “Come on, Libs. They’re adults. I’m sure they can work it out without you interfering.”

  She came to a halt outside her house and pulled a face. “You’re such a spoilsport.”

  “True.”

  She laughed. Then, taking a deep breath, Libby met his gaze. “I think this will be fine.”

  “This?” His eyebrow lifted in amusement and she narrowed her eyes a little at his teasing tone.

  “You know what I mean. We can…” She gestured between them. “Be friends. Like this.”

  His eyes darkened. She stared, fascinated at the change from emerald to near black.

  The sound of the door opening had them both glancing round. Libby flushed a little under her dad’s inquisitive gaze and took a step back from Jackson.

  “Hi dad. I ran into Jackson down the park. Jack, this is my dad, Eric.”

  She watched in some amusement as they shook hands, awkward vibes emanating from them both.

  “You’re Kelly’s brother?” Her dad glanced at Libby suspiciously and she wondered how to drop into conversation that Jackson was actually going away next Saturday night.

  “That’s right.” Jackson shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s nice to meet you. Libby, I’d better get back. It’s my turn to help with dinner.”

  “Thank your parents for me,” her dad said casually. “I’ll rest easier knowing that Libby won’t be alone next weekend.”

  “No problem.” As Jackson spoke she all but felt his laughter. “It’ll be a bit of a girls’ night from the sound of it. Dad and I are spending the night in London catching up with one of his old university friends.”

  Libby raised her eyebrows. What had Ian’s old friend got to do with the year out of school? He slanted an amused glance at her and she shrugged. She was inquisitive, she couldn’t help it.

  “Well, that’ll be nice.” Her dad’s relief was palpable.

  “I’ll see you on Monday, Lib.” Jackson winked at her before turning back to her dad. “Goodnight.”

  She watched him walk away with a sigh.

  “He seems nice.”

  She grinned as they went indoors. “Yes, he is. And no, you don’t need to worry, we’re just friends.”

  “Right then.” He stood awkwardly for a moment. “Do you fancy pizza for dinner?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Life had become easier.

  In fact, Libby had to admit that, in spite of her mother’s continuing absence, she was happy. She looked forward to lunch, when the gang got together. Tom and Kelly debated everything with a vigorous enjoyment, always turning to Libby to mediate or confirm a particular viewpoint. And she and Jackson talked.

  They talked a lot, about everything. She hadn’t even realized he was the talkative sort, or perhaps he hadn’t been before now. Whether the conversation was between the two of them, or swelled out to include the others, it was constant. Within days she knew more than she ever thought she would want to know about motorcycles. She knew that he favoured action when it came to movies, but the only type of fiction he read was thrillers.

  She knew he wanted to be with her, whatever conditions applied.

  He seemed to understand her. When she wanted to study, he disappeared without needing explanation, or sat with her to do his own work. He never interrupted or distracted her. He also never questioned her long route to the canteen each day, bypassing the meeting area where Mark tended to take lunch with his friends. Never commenting on her need to check on the student, he simply waited patiently while she pretended to read the notice boards and instead read Mark’s emotions.

  The evenings were quieter, but only because Libby felt some responsibility to spend
time making sure her dad wasn’t too lonely. Even as she talked with him, her mind was on Jackson. If her father guessed, he didn’t comment.

  By the end of the week, Libby felt as though her life were completely changed.

  As was their habit now, she and Jackson drove out to the river after they finished school. They hadn’t spoken much about the weekend and she knew he was dreading it as much as she, if for very different reasons.

  Libby closed her eyes, leaning back against the boulder as she took a deep breath. A cool breeze teased her hair around her face but she made no effort to move it. She sat motionless, absorbing the heat from Jackson along her right side, barely touching as always. Frustration and nerves warred within her and she tried to concentrate on something else.

  “Will it be very bad for you, this weekend?”

  She felt his sigh, the weariness that had her frowning in concern. “It’s never fun.”

  “I wish I could help somehow.”

  “You are helping, just being here.” He replied quietly. The simple honesty in the comment had her reeling, tears pricking at her eyelids. She blinked them away.

  “I wish I could come with you.”

  She saw the curve of his lips, wondered what it would be like to kiss him. She pushed down the thought as soon as it popped into her head. There was no way she was going there, not yet.

  “We’ll be home first thing on Sunday. Then we’ll put your new shield to the test.”

  She grimaced, knowing that it wasn’t going to be an easy weekend for either of them. Kelly and Jackson had both explained a little about how the shield worked, but she hadn’t been able to do it. She only hoped Anna would be able to help, else she’d be destined for a life of potential embarrassment.

  “Mum knows how to teach it,” he reassured her. “You’ll be fine. Although I’m not sure I’ll like it, not having access to everything going on inside there.”

  As he tapped a finger to her temple, she pulled a face. “There are things that you don’t need to know.”

  “We’ll agree to disagree. How’s your dad?”

  She sent him a wry glance. “Good. Excited about this trip. He doesn’t seem to be as focused on mum’s absence this week, which is a good thing.” Frowning, Libby considered this. “I think. Or else he’s given up hope.”