Tempus (19 page)

“Okay sweetheart.”  He sounded worried.

Less than three minutes later, we were sitting across the table from each other.  I was eating the hamburger he had brought me earlier, and he was
watching
me eat the hamburger he had brought me earlier.  The silence was slightly uncomfortable, because he watched me the entire time, as if I was going to fall out my chair any second.  I was very aware of the huge bites I was taking, but couldn’t help myself—I was unexpectedly voracious.

Luckily, this wasn’t one of those huge burgers, or it would have taken a lot longer.  I finished quickly, and then reassured him I was feeling fine.  “I have my appetite back,
obviously
.”  I crumpled the empty wrapper and tossed it in the can in the corner.

“What happened today, Jess?” 

Uh oh, ‘Jess’ meant he was emotional.  I took a big drink of coke and tried to think of something, something that I could hint at, and make him not ask too many questions.  “Well, I think I just turned around too fast, really.  That’s not the only thing though.  It’s, um, it’s a girl thing.”

“Why, do you need to see a doctor?  Is something wrong with you?”  He looked alarmed, poised on the edge of his seat, ready to jump up if necessary.

“Dad, NO.  It’s a
girl thing
, a normal
girl thing
.”  I hated even saying the words.  I blushed.

“Oh. 
OH
!”  His face flushed crimson and we both looked at the table a second.  “Is that normal?  Maybe you need some vitamins.  You should call the doctor tomorrow.  Your mother took iron pills sometimes, because…”  His voice trailed off.  He was trying to be ‘helpful’ again.

“You could be right.  Iron pills might be a good idea.”  There.  As much as it killed me, I let him think he helped.

He changed the subject.  “Steve was worried about you today.  He looked at his watch every ten minutes, kept telling me he thought I should call and check on you.  It would have been funny if I wasn’t worried, too.  I trust Julie; I knew if there were anything wrong at all, she would call.  I tried to go on about my day, but it wasn’t easy with that
boyfriend
of yours.”  He looked me in the eyes as he said ‘boyfriend.’

“Dad!  He’s
not
my boyfriend!  We’re just hanging out and having fun before school starts.”

“If that’s true, then maybe you should say something to
him
.  I think he has a different idea in his head.”  Dad raised both eyebrows, and it was comical—I couldn’t help but laugh.

I did
not
want to ‘talk boys’ with my dad, but now he had me curious, which is probably exactly what he meant to do.  I looked at my coke can and then twirled it on the table.  “So did Steve
say
something that gave you that crazy idea?”  I didn’t look up.

“Not
exactly
.”  I was a little disappointed.  “It’s more what he
did
than anything he said.  How he acted, for instance, when he was worried about you.  People worry about their friends, but he was almost no good to me.  Gabriel stayed at the store just in case I needed a hand with anything.  Since he got to learn the ropes before Saturday, I told him he could just come in at noon.”

“Gabriel stayed at the store?”  Hmm.  That was interesting.

“Just until five, then he said he had to go get something for his father.  However, he was back right at six.  That’s when he brought those flowers for you.”  He looked at me in the eyes again, and I wanted to look away, so I
didn’t
.

“Yeah, that was kind of odd.”  I waited to see if he would tell me anything else.  I was dying to ask questions, but that might make Dad ask
me
questions that I didn’t have answers to—or wouldn’t answer. 

“Well, he seems like an old-fashioned sort of kid.  He’s either very thoughtful, or trying to get in good with the new boss.”  He made a snuffing noise with his nose.  “Real polite, all ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir.’  Knows a lot about antiques, that’s for sure.  He’s a history buff, like you.  I think you will get along real well if you work together.”

“Sounds cool.  Where’s he from?”  I asked.  That would be a normal question to ask.

“Some little town up north-east I’ve never heard of.  His father is a ‘retired’ professor.  I can’t imagine being retired that young.”  I gave him an inquisitive look.  “He’s the same age as
me
.  That’s young.”

“Yeah, that’s
very
young.”  I winked.

“Hey, your old man might not be a spring chicken, but I still get the looks from the ladies.”  His eyes twinkled for just a second, and I had to admit, he wasn’t bad looking, for his age.

“Do you ever think about dating?”  I asked, sorry the moment the words escaped my lips.

He looked horrified.  “No!  Doesn’t interest me at all.  I have you, I have the store.”  He tried to use that as an explanation, shrugging his shoulders.  I knew the truth.  He still hadn’t gotten over Mom being gone.  I sometimes wondered if he ever would.

I changed the subject for him this time.  “So this Gabriel guy, his dad was a professor?”  He nodded.  “A professor of what?”

“History, of course.  No surprise there, considering his kids knowledge.”

“What does his mom do?”  I wondered what she looked like, if she was pretty.

I could tell by Dad’s expression that I had asked the wrong question again.  “She’s no longer with them.”  He didn’t have to elaborate, I knew what he meant.

“So why would they move here?  There are some neat places a retired professor and his son could move.  How old is Gabriel, again?”

“Um, nineteen.”  Dad answered, still a little distant.

“Oh.”  It seemed we might have come to the end of our conversation.  I didn’t want to leave my dad feeling down, though.  I swallowed my pride and spoke.  “So what is your opinion of Steve?”

He looked as shocked about hearing it as I felt about saying it.  “Um, Steve’s a good guy.  He’s honest, dependable, and trustworthy.”

  “You’re describing a boy scout.”

Dad laughed then.  “I guess I am.”  He grinned.  “If he wasn’t a good guy, I think I would have said no when he asked if he could take you out.  It was funny, Jessie.”  He leaned in as if he were telling something he shouldn’t be.  “Poor kid.  I knew something was up as soon as he walked in the store.  It was obvious he was nervous.  I asked him a couple of times what was bothering him and he’d just say ‘I’m thinking about school’ or something, but I knew it was something
else
.

“Finally, though, he just blurted it all out.  He’s usually got it together, but he worked himself up so much worrying about what I would say,” Dad laughed again.  “It was
funny
.  I wanted to give him a hard time.  He is a little
old
for you, you know.  I couldn’t do it though.  It was respectful, him asking me, and I had to give a little respect back.  It’s the man code.”  Dad winked.

“That’s really sweet.  Both of you.”  It wasn’t so bad, having this talk. 

“He’s a good guy.”  Dad repeated, then his face took on a serious look.  “But...”

“But what?”  What horrible thing was he about to tell me?  I felt like my stomach dropped a little.

“You said he’s not your boyfriend.”  I confirmed.  “He seemed a little too—
possessive
, maybe.”

“
Possessive
? What do you mean possessive?”  My mind was racing through the times we were together around Dad, wondering where he would get that impression.  I came up empty.

“For one, when that boy kissed your hand, I thought Steve might conk him on the head.”

The coke I was sipping got sucked down my windpipe.  When I stopped choking, I said, “
Conk
him on the
head
?”  I snorted, unconvinced.  “That doesn’t sound like Steve.” 

“I know, but you didn’t see the look on his face.  Could have had a little to do with him being so worried, I guess.  But,” he continued, “It wasn’t
just
that.”

  I waited for him to continue.  Steve sounded fine on the phone, and his only worry seemed to be whether or not I was okay.

“After you left, Gabriel asked about you.  Just some general things like when you would be working, how old you were.”  Dad did his snuffing noise again.  “Told me I didn’t look old enough to have a daughter your age.  I know he was kissing-up, that’s what you call it right?  But he pulled it off, made it seem genuine.”  He seemed to have forgotten what he was saying for a moment, then resumed,   “
Oh yeah
, he asked where you went to school, if you were going to college.  Nothing intrusive, just harmless stuff.  Steve didn’t like it, though.  He asked me, after Gabriel left, he asked if I thought he was a little too nosey.  Gabriel had tried to talk to him, though, and be friendly.  Asked him some of the same questions.  I pointed that out, and Steve couldn’t argue.”

I mulled it all over.  Gabriel had asked questions about me.  Steve was jealous over me, or that’s what it sounded like.  I wasn’t sure how I felt about it all, but I kind of liked it.

“Sweetheart,” Dad started, sounding even more serious, “You’re seventeen.”

“I know, Dad.  And I know what you’re going to say.”  I could see it in his eyes.

“I know you do, but I’m still your dad.  I have to say certain things; it’s in the rule book.”  He was trying to keep it light, so I would listen.  I knew all his tactics.  “I like Steve, I really do.  I trust him, or I wouldn’t even think about letting you spend time alone with him.  But he
is
older, and when his classes start, when he’s around people, girls, his own age…”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Dad.” 

“I know you told me that, it’s, I just don’t want to see you get hurt.  Besides, it’s your senior year, and you should keep all your options open.  Who knows who
you
might notice.  It’s not just the girls that turn from ugly ducklings to swans.”  He smiled.  “Just keep your options open, at least start the year that way, and see what happens.  Don’t get too wrapped up to notice other people, people closer to your own age.”

I wondered for a moment if I could be one of the ‘ducklings’ he was referring to.  I tried not to frown.  “Exactly how much older were you than Mom?”  I asked, using tactics of my own.

“That’s different; we were both in our twenties.”

“Yeah, Mom was twenty and you were twenty five.  That’s five years.  Steve and I are only four years apart.”  I stated.

“But there’s a big difference between seventeen and twenty, you’ll see.” 

“Girls mature faster than boys.”  I countered.

“I trust your judgment, Jessie, I do.  All I’m trying to say is
keep your options open
.  That’s all I can say, and I
have
to say it.”

I smiled.  It could have been a lot worse.  Dad had never been one to be super strict, he most often let me know what he thought, and left the decisions to me.  I mostly made good decisions, so I guess that’s why.  I always tried to respect his wishes, and we rarely butted heads.

“You are a great dad,” I suddenly blurted.

Dad’s eyes got a little misty, and he blinked them a second before he spoke.  “You’re a great daughter, you make it easy.”

Ohmigod, getting mushy with my dad.  Maybe I
was
sick.  Hopefully not, I had plans for Saturday. 

I got up and walked around the table.  Dad stood up to meet me, and we gave each other a big hug, one that lasted a little longer than usual.  This was the first
real
father-daughter talk we ever had.  The first one like
this
, for sure.  It wasn’t nearly as bad as I always imagined it would be.  It was kind of nice.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said after we released each other.  “Don’t forget to get some iron pills.”  He looked down at his shoes.  “Can’t have you falling over every day.”

“I won’t forget.  Love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Jessie.”

We said goodnight and headed our separate ways, him to the second floor, and me to the third.  I went straight to my bathroom, washed off the day’s smeared makeup, and changed for bed.  I was suddenly so tired my eyes hurt, even after sleeping half the day away.  I had a lot of things to think about, but they would just have to wait until tomorrow.

Lost: yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset…

—Horace Mann

I sat up in bed, breathless.  I had that dream again, the one with the heart carved on the tree.  Gabriel was kissing me—I knew his name now—and it felt so good I was dizzy.  Now that I was awake, I felt a little guilty. 

The clock said it was five a.m. and, judging from the darkness outside my window, I knew that it was correct.  What I didn’t know was why I kept dreaming about Gabriel, other than the obvious fact that he was gorgeous.  But the dream had come first, before I ever met him.  That didn’t make sense.  What could make that make sense?

Maybe I had seen him, and my subconscious remembered, but my conscious didn’t.  I saw a video on the internet one time, where a gorilla walked through a group of people.  You were supposed to be counting something, and if you were, you didn’t even notice the gorilla, even though it was right in front of your eyes.  Maybe that could explain it.  Maybe I was so preoccupied doing something else that he was right in front of me and I didn’t notice.