Sue laughed in relief. “I think we can handle it.”
“You don’t understand,” Poppa replied. “Alex’s composition is truly awful. It wouldn’t be a problem, but he insists on giving us paintings every Christmas. He gets hurt if we don’t display them.”
Twinkles nodded. “The painting he gave us last year was of a straw hat. Or maybe it was of a donkey. Poppa, which was it?”
“I thought it was a pineapple.”
Sam chuckled. “We’ll try to curb it a bit.”
“Not all the way, mind you,” said Twinkles. “Alex does enjoy it so. But a little curbing in the way of gift giving would be appreciated.”
Sam pinched Twinkles’s cheek. “You might regret that. Picasso wasn’t understood at first. Maybe Alex’s paintings will be worth a mint of money someday.”
“Maybe. But honestly, I’m running out of places to hang them.”
Poppa smiled and took Twinkles’s arm. “Our children are waiting. We really must go.”
“Do we have to?”
“Do you want to explain to Deleena why we’re so late? You know she’s been planning our party for ages. Besides, the little ones will be getting hungry.”
After giving his parents a hug, Poppa turned on the Wave Trapper. Immediately, the doorway was enveloped in a silver grid. Behind the cloudy blue light, Sue could see a group of people chatting beside a three-tiered cake covered with frosting roses. As the swirling light cleared, the crowd cheered. Smiling, Poppa and Twinkles passed through the time portal and into the ecstatic embraces of their children and grandchildren.
Hugging one of his grandsons, Poppa said to Sue and Sam, “Always remember your future holds great joy.” With a final smile, he turned off the Wave Trapper. The blue light swirled and faded away.
Sue sighed and stared at the empty doorway. “What do we do now?”
Sam laughed. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going home and planning our wedding.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Marc typed the exit code into the archival keypad as Crystal stood by his side. The echoing noise of the large door shutting behind them had a distinct air of finality.
“A job well done,” Marc said gruffly. When Crystal didn’t reply, he shoved his hands in his pockets and said waspishly, “Aren’t you even gonna talk to me?”
“What’s there to say?”
Shrugging his shoulders, he looked away. A thick silence fell between them as they descended the staircase. When they approached the TEMCO lab and reached for the doorknob at the same time, Crystal pulled her hand into a tight fist and backed away. Stumbling sideways, she knocked a framed portrait of Stephen Hawking off the wall and onto Marc’s foot. Marc gave an exasperated mutter and rubbed his ankle as Crystal rehung the portrait.
“Wait a sec,” Crystal said hurriedly as he reached for the doorknob. “When we go inside, you should do the talking.”
“Why?”
She shrugged and looked uncomfortable.
“If you know something I don’t, I wish you’d tell me. Is my neck on the line?”
She shrugged again.
“Fine,” he grumbled, giving her a glare. “Have it your way.”
“For Pete’s sake,” she said in an exasperated voice. “If you go in the lab looking like that, you’ll blow everything!”
“Oh? Just how do I look?” he said stiffly.
“Like an egotistical, arrogant, affronted nudnik who just swallowed a lemon!”
Marc blinked rapidly and gave a spurt of laughter.
“Like the description?” she asked dryly. “On Saturday nights after I read Oedipus Rex in the original Greek, I memorize the thesaurus.”
His smile faded. “I’m sorry I teased you about your social life. I—”
She cut him off. “Give it a rest. All I care about is getting through the next five minutes without either of us getting cut from the program.”
Marc watched as she gave him a critical glance. After a moment, she said sharply, “Tuck in your shirt and straighten your collar. You’re such a neat freak that the director will know we’ve been arguing if you go in there looking like that.”
As Marc obediently tucked in his shirt, he suddenly felt an irresistible desire to tease her. Deliberately messing up his collar even further, he gave her a helpless look and fumbled with the material. He swallowed down a desire to laugh as she glared up at him like an angry wet hen.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she grumbled, batting his hands away and straightening his collar. “Are you completely helpless?”
Standing absolutely still, Marc forced himself not to smile.
“Smooth down your hair,” she ordered tersely. “And stop frowning.”
His lips collapsed into a grin. Scrabbling his fingers through his hair, he asked, “What about you? Your hair’s flying everywhere.”
“I don’t matter,” she snapped. “Everyone’s used to seeing me like this.” Giving an impatient huff, she demanded, “What the dickens are you doing? You’re just making things worse!” Grumbling wildly beneath her breath, Crystal reached up and smoothed down his hair. Marc’s smile grew.
“Look,” she said, trying to tame his cowlick. “All we’ve got to do is play nice for a few minutes and then we can go our separate ways and enjoy summer vacation. Do you think you can handle that?”
“I know I can,” he replied. “But I’m not sure about you. You’re acting like an ice queen.”
Crystal gave his hair a defiant pat that was a bit harder than necessary. Backing away, she pinned a cherubic smile on her face. “Don’t worry about me. Just keep it together, okay?”
As Marc nodded and opened the door, he gasped in stunned surprise. In the middle of the lab, Gil and Dr. Ableman were locked in a passionate embrace.
Giving a surprised squeak, Crystal clutched Marc’s forearm and exclaimed, “Will you look at that!”
Marc didn’t bother looking at Dr. Ableman and Gil, he was too busy looking at Crystal. Her eyes were sparkling behind her glasses, and golden wispy curls were dancing on her cheeks. As she held his arm and smiled at him, a shockwave rolled through his body. He suddenly realized what Ryan had meant. Crystal did have a lovely face. In fact, it was more than just lovely—it was remarkably pretty. Most women were pretty or ugly all the time, so a man knew where he stood, but all the normal rules flew out the window when it came to Cris. Her beauty was even more potent because it was so shocking. It was like seeing the desert bloom or turning a corner and seeing an unexpected sunrise. He didn’t understand how a woman who was normally such a complete dud could suddenly take every bit of breath right out of his body.
Putting his hand gently over hers, Marc murmured, “I am looking, and I like what I see.”
Marc watched as Crystal froze and stared at him with shocked eyes. Shaking off his hand, she backed away, tripping over a chair in the process. As he tried to help her regain her balance, she gave him an icy stare. Marc began to grin. Maybe getting to know Crystal wasn’t going to be easy, but the best things in life never were. Surely she couldn’t ignore him forever.
As if overhearing his thoughts, Crystal glared. Lightly catching her arm, he said beneath his breath, “Keep it together, Cris. The director’s watching.”
Immediately, Crystal pinned a smile on her lips.
“That’s better,” Marc murmured encouragingly. “You’re doing fine.”
“Don’t be such a condescending twit,” she whispered through a frozen smile. As she stepped away from him, she tripped over another chair, accidentally knocking it into the wall.
* * *
Hearing a crash behind her, Gil pulled back from Dan’s kiss and glanced over her shoulder. When she spotted Crystal and Marc, she began to blush. She hadn’t minded kissing in front of Dan’s friends, but kissing in front of her own made her feel shy. Dan’s arms tightened around her, and she heard him starting to chuckle. Suddenly, he became very occupied with nibbling her earlobe. Giggling, she whispered, “Cut it out
, you cheeseball!”
Gil felt a deep rumble of laughter quivering in Dan’s chest. Placing a kiss on the tip of her nose, he teased, “Now who’s squeamish about PDA? Are you turning stodgy on me?”
Gil chuckled. “You’re all grown-up, but you’re still a wisecracker, aren’t you?”
Giving her a wink, Dan said in a jubilant voice, “Well, Marc, how about if your first official act as my new TA is taking over my classes while I go on my honeymoon?”
“I’d be glad to, Doc,” Marc replied, shaking Dan’s hand.
Gil’s smile wobbled as Dan flashed her a laughing glance that was reminiscent of Danny’s impudent grin. Taking his hand in hers, she stroked his wrist, shuddering at the memory of the cannulas sticking into Death Row Daniel’s arm.
As if sensing her shift in mood, Dan whispered, “Doing okay?”
Nodding, she murmured, “I’m just so glad that we won out.”
Stroking her cheek, Dan gave her a smile that warmed her heart. “Me too.”
Surging forward, Crystal gave Gil a strangling hug. “When’s the wedding?”
“Not for a while,” she replied, blinking back the moisture in her eyes. “I’m gonna make this guy court me proper first. But when I finally agree to marry him, I’m partial to October twenty-sixth.” She flashed Dan a flirty grin. “After all, I already have that date marked with a giant red heart and a big, fat, sparkling star.”
Laughing, Dan pulled her close. “Are you talking about October twenty-sixth of this year or next?”
Gil’s eyes twinkled. “That depends entirely on how good you are with your wooing.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There are many people I want to thank for helping me realize my dream. I never could have done this alone.
Thank you, Dad, for always seeing the best in me and for being so supportive. Your kind words and Godly example have meant the world to me. When you told me how much you liked my book, it was the proudest moment of my life.
Thank you, Mom, for the hours you spent tirelessly editing my manuscript. Thank you for patiently listening as I bounced ideas off you. Your wisdom, love, and support have meant so much to me. The fact that this book is finished is a testament to you.
Thank you, Darla Caudle, Donita Kurtz, Kim Rotharmel, and Tim Caudle for reading my manuscript and making such wonderful suggestions. You helped polish my book, and any praise it receives belongs to you as well. Thank you, Rob Caudle, Kent Kurtz, John Rotharmel, Amy Huang, Bruce Moore, and Paula Mowery for your encouragement.
Thank you, Gloria Penwell, Dave Lambert, Catherine Lawton, Terri Kalfas, Bruce Nygren, Nick Harrison, Sally Apokedak, and John Sloan for your suggestions concerning my manuscript. Thank you for taking an interest in me and making me feel valuable.
Thank you to all of Prism Book Group’s wonderful authors. When I joined Prism, you surrounded me with love and support. You showed me the ropes, included me in your group, and offered me your friendship. I am so blessed to have each of you in my life!
Thank you, Larry Carpenter, for your help with understanding the business side of publishing. You made this journey easy, and I appreciate it.
Thank you, Joan Alley, for being so supportive and for publishing my book. I feel very blessed to be part of an organization that tries its best to honor the Lord.
Thank you, Susan Baganz, for “discovering” me. You paved the way for my dreams to come true. You are a beautiful person, a talented writer, and a wonderful friend.
Thank you, Jacqueline Hopper, for being such a wonderful editor. Your support has gone beyond just fixing words on a page—you’ve taken an interest in me as a person. You’ve prayed with me. Helped me. Befriended me. You’ve had such an impact on my life. I’m a better person for having known you.
Thank you to my family and friends for your prayers and support. Thank you for standing by me as I regained my health and embarked on this journey toward publication. I appreciate your encouragement and the way you have promoted my book. I love you all!
And finally, I want to thank the Lord for His love and guidance. Each step of the way, He has shown me the truth of Romans 8:28.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Danele J. Rotharmel grew up with a love of the literary word, and by age five, she knew she wanted to be a writer. However, her life took an unexpected turn when a mysterious illness brought her close to death. Eventually, she learned that a low-level carbon monoxide leak from a faulty furnace in her home was slowly poisoning her. This poisoning triggered severe Multiple Chemical Sensitivity and partial amnesia.
During this time, the hardest thing she faced was a crisis of faith. She had to quit her job and stop going to church. She couldn’t write, couldn’t drive, and could barely remember who she was. To say she was upset with the Lord was an understatement. She began reexamining her faith in light of her illness, and eventually, she came to the firm conclusion that God is real, God is good, God is interested and involved, and God is trustworthy regardless of tragedy.
When her illness became even more severe, she was put into quarantine and could only talk to friends and extended family through the glass of a window. This quarantine lasted for seven years. During this time, she wrote the first six books in The Time Counselor Chronicles.
Danele currently lives in Colorado where she continues to write. Although her journey back to health was long and difficult, it provided her with the opportunity to grow closer to God and to write her books. For that, she is forever thankful.
You can learn more about Danele by visiting her blog at https://dragonflydanele.wordpress.com.
Coming soon from Danele J. Rotharmel…
Time Trap
A killer is lurking in the shadows of time itself…
When problems arise during a field exam, Director Peter Matthews and Dr. Laura Nelson are sent through a time portal to investigate. While they search for their missing cadets, they encounter an enemy who is calculating and brutal—a mysterious nemesis who is holding a grudge against the TEMCO program. As Peter and Laura race to unravel clues directing them to their kidnapped cadets, their own survival comes into question. A deadly trap has been set, and they are forced to pit their wits against a serial killer who is intent on playing a deadly chess game through time itself. There is nowhere to hide. No way to escape. Confrontation is their only option…
Please enjoy an excerpt from Time Trap…
CHAPTER ONE
May 21st, 11:58 p.m.
Hawking Hall, Washington D.C.
Four years after Gil Ableman’s field exam
Wade Kingston stumbled against the wall. Breathing heavily, he raised a hand to his temple and felt blood. Behind him, he could hear footsteps. Forcing his body to move, he lurched down the hall. His fingers fumbled frantically as he dialed his phone. He’d left a message on William Ableman’s machine, but he didn’t know when William would receive it—he needed to contact Peter.
“This is W-wade,” he said in a slurred voice as the call connected. “We’ve got trouble at TEMCO. I was working late, and I saw—”
“You have reached the voicemail box of Director Peter Matthews. I’m unable to take your call right now, but if you leave—”
With an impatient motion, Wade disconnected the call and dialed Laura Nelson’s number. As it rang, he staggered toward the marble staircase leading to the lobby. Suddenly, footsteps rushed toward him. Swinging around, Wade raised his arm to protect his head. A baseball bat slammed across his chest. Wade’s phone flew from his hand and fell to the landing below.
Seeing the bat being raised again, Wade stepped back. His feet found nothing but air. In a blind panic, he reached for the banister but missed. White light flashed behind his eyes as he plummeted down the stairs and landed in a heap at the bottom. Looking up, he saw his attacker approaching with the baseball bat in hand.
“You just had to stick your nose where it didn’t belong, didn’t you?” a voice hissed.
Wade tried to get up but couldn’t move his l
egs. Rolling onto his belly, he dragged himself across the floor. The exit sign blurred in front of his vision. Pain was making him nauseous. Choking on blood, he continued to drag his useless lower limbs toward the door.
Footsteps approached. “Do you honestly think you’re going anywhere?”
Wade tried to drag himself a few more inches, but steel toed boots stepped on his fingers. Looking up, he saw the baseball bat smashing toward his head.
* * *
May 22nd, 4:00 p.m.
TEMCO Lab, Hawking Hall
“Wade’s still not answering,” Director Peter Matthews said, hanging up the phone.
“Where do you think he is?” Dr. Laura Nelson asked, glancing at the two cadets sitting by the wall. “Drake and Phoebe have been waiting for over two hours. What do we do?”
Peter made an impatient sound. “We proceed with their field exam. This is getting ridiculous. This surf has already been postponed twice due to scheduling problems. I’m not delaying it again because the cadets’ advisor hasn’t shown up. TEMCO should already be shut down for the summer. We can fill Wade in when he—”
Across the lab, Zeke Masters interrupted, “Director Matthews, I’m receiving an unscheduled transmission!”
Hurrying over to the GAP computer, Peter leaned over the lab tech’s shoulder and looked at the monitor. “Who is it from?”
Zeke’s fingers flew across his keyboard. “Doc and Mrs. Ableman.”
“It’s about time!” Peter exclaimed. “Put it through.” He motioned for Laura and nodded at her mute inquiry. “William and Gil are finally making contact.”
Laura smiled as the Staging Platform shimmered with a faint blue glow. “I can’t wait to hear what they’ve been up to.”
“Me too,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’m also feeling somewhat sympathetic toward Thomas’s views about the importance of protocol. A fifty-two hour contact delay is stretching things a bit.”
Time Tsunami Page 36
