Read Online Timepiece: An Hourglass Novel by Myra McEntire - Free Book Online Page A

skin fluttered to the floor.
    “On your breath or in my food?”
    Solid comeback.
    I grinned. “In case I have enough leftovers for a doggie bag.”
    “If ‘doggie bag’ is meant to be an insult, up yours.”
    I clicked on the burner under the pan, squeezed a clove of garlic through a press, and then added chopped onions and red peppers from my stash in the fridge. After dropping in a couple of tablespoons of butter, I set the flame to medium.
    “Why are you being … well, not nice, but not completely hateful?” Her cheeks were still flushed.
    “I’m not good with mornings. I need a full belly to crank up to bad-boy mode.” I looked at her from the corner of my eye. “I wouldn’t stick around for lunch.”
    “Not in a million years.” She leaned forward in her seat, tapping her fingers on the table. Working up to something. “Em said that your parents are travelers, just like Michael and her.”
    “That’s true.”
    “That made me wonder …”
    “Wonder what?” I asked.
    “I want to know what your ability is.”
    “Wow.” I grabbed a spatula and shifted the vegetables in the pan. “Such subtlety. Never would’ve expected it from you.”
    “You found out about me by eavesdropping.” She shrugged. “I thought I’d keep it classy and ask.”
    I rested my elbows against the kitchen island, ducking my head to avoid the pot rack. “Empathy. Sensing people’s emotions. Mostly of people I know, but even those I don’t—if I touch them.”
    “Is that why you grabbed me at the masquerade? To feel my ‘emotions’?”
    “No.” I grinned. “Not at all.”
    Lily rolled her eyes. “How did you find out that’s what your ability is?”
    “My mom is an actress.” I turned back to the stove to pour in beaten eggs. To give the pain a chance to leave my eyes before I faced her again. “She quit the business to stay home with me, but she still does the occasional gig.”
    “No way! Your mom is Grace Walker,” Lily said. “You look exactly like her.”
    That’s what everyone always said.
    “Lucky for me.”
    That’s what I always said back.
    “I’m not following. What does your mom being an actress have to do with empathy?”
    “Mom started work on a remake of Cleopatra , lots of emotional scenes. I was about three.” I wiggled the pan to make sure the eggs weren’t sticking. “A couple of days after she left home to go on location, I started having irrational reactions to things. Dad called her to talk about it. They tracked it. I was reacting to her scenes as she filmed them.”
    “That’s not so strange, right? I mean, she’s your mom.”
    “She was filming in Egypt.”
    “Oh.” Lily chewed on her thumbnail. “How does empathy relate to time?”
    “Everyone has an emotional time line.” I sprinkled a handful of cheese over the omelet, eyed it, and then added more. “I can travel yours, in the right situation.”
    “Backward or forward?”
    “I don’t mess with the future.” Anymore.
    “How do you use it?”
    “Something smells good.” Dad popped his head into the kitchen and I jumped. “Thanks for waiting, Lily.”
    Saved.
    “No worries.” She smiled at him before looking back at me, straight-faced. “Thanks for fighting off your inner bad boy for so long. Looks like breakfast is all yours.”
    Dad extended his hand to show her out of the kitchen. Before he followed, he took in my chest and apron. “Son?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Maybe you should locate a shirt.”

Chapter 12
     
    A

fter Lily and her questions, I couldn’t stop thinking about my mom.
    I drove to the gym for some peace in the indoor pool.
    I discovered the difference water makes when I was little. My mom had taken me swimming every day, rain or shine, hot or cold. When we’d moved to the house in Ivy Springs, she’d insisted we put a pool on the property.
    Since Jack had put her in a coma, I couldn’t bear to swim there anymore.
    Because of my ribs, I walked into the water instead of diving. Sinking