A Gift of Time

by Beth Flynn

  Yes, her mother admittedly had a bad memory, and this was her way of making sure she didn’t forget the safe combination. Writing the Scripture reference in an important place in her Bible was her mother’s attempt to not make it obvious, but Mimi knew. She had a locker at school. She could only hope her father’s safe worked the same way.

  Mimi laid the cherished book back on the nightstand and made sure everything looked like she’d found it. Yes, Mimi decided. She would make an excellent investigator. Maybe I shouldn’t be a journalist. I could probably be a detective or a secret FBI agent or something.

  She strode to the bedroom door. She still had some time to see if she could get the safe open. She was certain she would find her parents’ marriage certificate in it.

  And because it probably wasn’t something they looked at often, maybe even never, she could safely return it without anybody even knowing it was gone.

  Chapter Four

  Tommy

  1976, The Motel, Fort Lauderdale

  “You’ve got it. You’re doing fine, Kit!” Grunt grinned at her from the passenger seat. “Just let up on the gas a little bit. You don’t need to hit the brake to slow down. There’s not another car in sight. Ease your foot off the gas pedal, and the car will slow down on its own. And remember, don’t use your left foot at all. I can see you’re struggling with that. Believe me, you’ll get used to it, and you’re doing great.”

  Ginny huffed out a breath. “I know. I know. It just seems like this car is so powerful. I’m not sure if I can drive something that seems so aggressive, Grunt. Of course, I’ve never driven, so I don’t have anything to compare it to, but it just seems maybe he could’ve given me something a little more my style. Maybe something more like Moe’s car.”

  Grunt glanced at her. He wanted to tell her she had a style all her own, and he couldn’t think of any mold—or car, for that matter—that she would ever conform to. She looked so serious with her hands at the ten and two o’clock positions on the wheel.

  “You need to relax,” he said. “You look too stiff and uncomfortable. There’s nobody around. Enjoy the ride.”

  She smiled at that and chanced a quick glance to her right.

  “It’ll be so nice being able to drive myself around, Grunt. I can’t wait to pick up Sarah Jo and just head to the mall or the movies or the beach, or even the library. Well, not really the mall. You know how much I hate shopping, but it’ll be fun to get out, you know?”

  Grunt smiled back at her, but there was no sincerity behind it. He’d thought at first she would shun the over-the-top birthday present from Grizz. She wasn’t the type to be impressed with fast and fancy cars, and Grunt had been right about that. But she didn’t see the sparkling new Trans Am as a toy to be flaunted, to make herself feel good. She saw it as a means to return to some semblance of an average life. Having time with a girlfriend, doing what other girls her age were doing. And he didn’t like that one bit.

  They were quiet as ABBA serenaded them with “Dancing Queen.” It was coming from a state-of-the-art stereo sound system that rivaled even his own.

  “I hope you don’t think I forgot about your birthday, Kit,” he said after a few moments. “I ran out and got you something as soon as I realized that this,” he motioned with his hand around the interior of the car, “was a birthday present. It took me a couple of weeks because I was having it personalized, but I brought it with me and thought I could give it to you over lunch.”

  He wasn’t being absolutely truthful. Of course, he knew when her birthday was. He just couldn’t let her or anybody else know, so he acted like he learned it for the first time when Grizz presented her with the car.

  He reached down with his left hand and retrieved something from behind her seat. She peered over at the neatly wrapped package he held in his hand.

  “You got me a birthday present?” She smiled as she moved her eyes back to the road and, without giving him time to answer, added, “I can’t believe you bought me a present. Thank you.”

  “You don’t even know what it is, and you’re already thanking me?” His tone was light, teasing.

  “It doesn’t matter what it is. Just the fact you thought to get me something and wrapped it means so much.” Then she added shyly, “I’ve never opened a present before.”

  He felt a stab of pain in his heart for her. He knew what that felt like. He’d never opened a present before, either. He quickly regained his composure.

  “Get over to the right so we can get on 95. How about we head down to Miami for some real Cuban food? Does that sound good for lunch?”

  She hesitated for a second, and he knew what she was thinking.

  “Don’t worry about Grizz, Kit. I told him I would spend the day giving you driving lessons. He knows I’m smart enough not to take you to familiar places. We’re heading far enough south. It’ll be fine.”

  She nodded and smiled as she gave the car a little more gas. He could sense she was feeling a little giddy. Was it the sense of freedom that came with driving her very own car, the T-tops off and the air blowing her ponytail around? Or was it the anticipation of opening a present? It didn’t matter. He could tell it stemmed from a deep-rooted happiness or perhaps just a sense of belonging, and it warmed his heart to witness it.

  Forty-five minutes later, they faced each other in the tiny booth at the little restaurant that offered the most authentic Cuban cuisine in all of South Florida. The tantalizing aromas teased their senses as the warm breeze caressed their faces through the open window. They could hear the drone of traffic through the window screen. They had just ordered their meals, and Grunt tried not to smile as Ginny practically bounced around in her seat. She was excited about his present, and it made his heart swell.

  Kit, he corrected himself. He had to catch himself many times in the past several months when he’d started to call her Ginny and not Kit. He wasn’t supposed to know her real name, and he hated the nickname Grizz gave her. She wasn’t Kit. She was and always would be Ginny. He couldn’t wait for the day when he could call her by that name to her face. A day when they would be free from what he considered a barbaric lifestyle.

  He shook the thoughts aside and reached for the package next to him.

  “Well, I guess you’re ready to open this.” He grinned, handing the gift over.

  She took it from him and held onto it, gazing at it with an expression he couldn’t read.

  “Happy birthday, Kit. I hope you like it.”

  She looked up at him, and he tried to decipher the expression on her face. She was turning red. Was she embarrassed?

  “Open it!”

  She didn’t say anything, just looked at him then at the package and back at him again. She was hesitant, and he quickly realized why. She was savoring the moment. He let her. He didn’t say anything for almost a full minute.

  “It’s okay to open it, Kit,” he said finally. “I promise you, it won’t be the last one you’ll ever open.” He smiled at her then, a sincere and genuine smile that came from the heart. He wanted to give this woman the world. And one day he would.

  He watched as she carefully undid the tape on each end and then in the middle. She did her best not to rip the actual wrapping paper. After gently removing her present, she just stared at it, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “You shouldn’t have, Grunt, but I’m so glad you did.” Her voice was a whisper. “It’s beautiful, and I’ll treasure it forever.”

  She lovingly stroked the dark leather cover. Clutching it tightly to her chest, she looked up at him with the most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever seen.

  His breath caught in his throat as he imagined her looking at him that way for a different reason. Looking at him with eyes that cherished him as much as she cherished her gift. He cleared his throat and added in a voice gravelly with emotion.

  “There’s something else. If you look closely at the bottom right, I had your initials embossed. I had them made small enough so they wouldn’t be noticeable
unless you were looking for them.”

  He immediately saw the question in her eyes.

  “It wasn’t hard to figure out your real name, Kit. I’m not stupid, and Sarah Jo recognized you as the girl from her rival school that supposedly ran away. But,” he quickly added, “they goofed at the printers.”

  She looked down at the Bible and squinted to see the letters.

  “G.L.D,” she said quietly.

  “I can send it back and get you another one. I just didn’t want to wait so long that you thought I forgot, so I chanced giving it to you now.”

  He reached across the table as if to take it from her, but she pulled it out of his reach and held it to her chest again.

  “I want to keep this one,” she told him.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. Good. He wanted her to keep it. The printer hadn’t made a mistake when embossing the Bible. It had been his intention all along for it to have the initials that would represent her future name. Guinevere Love Dillon. He even imagined them laughing about the happy coincidence after they’d been blissfully married for years. Relief washed over him.

  “Besides,” she added with a big grin. “It’s not what’s on the outside of this book that’s important.”

  He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “It’s about what’s on the inside. Just like people. Don’t you think? It’s what’s on the inside that really counts.”

  Chapter Five

  Carter

  1981, Fort Lauderdale

  “Ann Marie! Ann Marie! Wait up!” Carter yelled as she ran toward her friend.

  Ann Marie O’Connell continued to walk through the hallways of Cole University. She went out the door and headed to the parking lot, lost in thought about the class she’d just left. It was Introduction to Psychology. She found the class interesting, but if she was honest with herself, she didn’t like it that much. She especially didn’t like the part about labeling and assigning personality types to people. It made her squirm, and she didn’t know why. If it weren’t required, she would drop it in a heartbeat.

  “Gosh, you must have earplugs in!” she heard from over her shoulder and realized her new friend, Carter, had come up behind her.

  She smiled at Carter as she let her catch up and they walked toward their cars. Darn it—she still wasn’t used to her alias, Ann Marie. Between Guinevere, Gwinny, Ginny, Kit, and now Ann Marie, she’d almost driven herself nuts with confusion. But maybe that’s what Grizz’s intentions were with the gang names. Confusion. She could understand it a little bit. But truth be told, she didn’t really care that much anyway. She would even have gone back to being Priscilla Celery, the silly name from her first fake I.D. if it meant she could go to college. Thank goodness she didn’t need to. She was now in her second semester at Cole and was thriving. She loved college.

  “Do you have plans for the weekend?” Carter asked. Before she could answer, Carter added, “I thought you might like to come to my place and study. We have that big test coming up, and I could sure use the help. This isn’t exactly my favorite subject. Interesting enough, but just not my thing.”

  Ginny—Ann Marie—stared hesitantly at Carter. This wasn’t the first time she was invited to Carter’s house, and she hated to refuse her again. She’d had a million excuses as to why she could never get together during the weekend or the evenings. She was always available to grab lunch after school or even meet at the library to study with Carter and their other friend, Casey, but she was careful to never socialize beyond school and most definitely never on a weekend. Studying at Carter’s home seemed too intimate somehow. She was always concerned about letting down her guard and possibly slipping up about her past. She didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to herself.

  She looked at Carter’s hopeful expression and had a change of heart. She decided that, yes, she would accept this invitation. She didn’t think Grizz would care. She was certain after mentioning Carter and Casey a few times that Grizz probably had them investigated. Well, if he hadn’t already done it, she was sure he would after hearing she had accepted this study invitation. It was a good thing, having a friend. She’d been lonely. Sarah Jo was still upstate attending school, and Ginny wanted this. Needed this.

  Two nights later, Ginny found herself sitting in Carter’s small apartment. Carter’s little home resembled a tiny zoo. Three cats, two dogs, and assorted birds, gerbils, mice, and other small critters called this one-bedroom apartment home. Ginny had to compete with the sounds of the birds squawking from their cages.

  “So, before we get started, tell me why that hot guy I’ve seen you with—what’s his name again, Sam?—tell me why he calls you Kit,” Carter said as she handed Ginny a glass of soda.

  “Yes, his name is Sam.” Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She decided to change the subject.

  “You go first, Carter. Tell me how you came to be here and about all of this.” She motioned around the room. Just then, an orange cat jumped up on her lap and snuggled in. Ginny looked down and smiled, then up at her friend. “I’ve known you a couple of months, but I really don’t know a lot about you. I mean, I know you go to school at Cole, and you work at the grocery store, but what else? Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Carter giggled. “Sure, as long as you promise to introduce me to Sam. He is so damn good looking!”

  Ginny sat back and listened—and learned there was more to her new friend than she could’ve ever imagined. Carter Coulter had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. A child of wealth and privilege, she’d grown up in a real honest-to-goodness mansion on Cape Cod. She discovered when she was very young that she couldn’t live up to what her wealthy parents expected of her, so while her sister and brother were being privately tutored in classical piano, foreign language, and sailing, Carter could be found in the kitchen with the servants or in the stables with the horses.

  “I realized at a young age that I wanted nothing to do with that lifestyle.” Carter shrugged and took a sip of her drink. “I can’t explain it, Ann Marie. It’s like I was born into the wrong family. Where my sister and brother thrived on the things that type of lifestyle afforded and expected, I shunned it at every opportunity. My mom was a socialite, and I was a chore for her. She wanted children she could parade before her snooty friends. It—it’s like we were all in competition with each other, and the child with the most store-bought skills won. We were trophies. Ignored unless it was showtime. I barely knew my parents. Still don’t know them and don’t care to. I’ve been on my own since before I graduated from high school.”

  “You gave it up? Your family, love, security—all to do your own thing?” Ginny’s mouth hung open as she glanced around the small but clean apartment.

  Carter snorted. “Financial security, maybe. Love? There was no love. Like I said, I barely knew my parents. I was raised by nannies. And when my mother realized firing them because they couldn’t control me didn’t work—I was going to do what I wanted anyway—she just gave up. When I got kicked out of the umpteenth prestigious prep school for raising a family of rats in the kitchen...” Carter gave Ginny a wide smile. “Well, let’s just say my mother developed a case of the overdramatic vapors and told my father to handle me. He only knew one way to ‘discipline’ me—” She used her hands to air quote, then continued, “By telling me that if I didn’t graduate from Uppity Upperson’s School for the Overprivileged and Short on Conscience Academy for Snobs, he would cut me off. Which he did, and which is why I’m here. I took what little money I had of my own, got myself to Florida, got my GED, and enrolled at Cole. You already know I work full-time at the grocery store, and I go to school almost full-time, and every spare minute I get I use to come back here and take care of my animals. They’re my family, and they’re all I need.” She paused before adding wistfully, “I do miss my horses, though.”

  “So you don’t miss your family?” Ginny looked at her.

  Carter smiled. “I was bo
rn into the wrong family. There was nothing to miss, Ann Marie.”

  Ginny sipped her soda and decided she had been right about Carter, right to come here. She had wanted so badly to trust this new friend, but had had a hard time letting Carter warm up to her. She was still so guarded about her own roots. To hear about someone who came from almost the exact same background, with the exception of all that money, gave her hope. She wasn’t entirely alone. They’d both come from homes where they were not wanted, were used for ulterior motives, and were virtually ignored. Ginny had been used by Delia to keep her household running. Carter’s parents had tried to use her by making her into a show ornament for their wealthy friends. It was different, but the same in a sense. She couldn’t explain it, but suddenly she felt an almost kindred spirit with Carter.

  “I’ve never met a girl named Carter.” Ginny’s brows knitted. “Actually, I’ve never met a guy named Carter, either.”

  Carter grimaced. “I have my parents to thank for that one. Does the name Carter ring any bells?”

  Ginny looked thoughtful, shook her head, “No. I mean, that’s our president’s name, but other than—” Her eyes widened as Carter nodded at her.

  “Let’s just say my parents are very politically connected.” Carter rolled her eyes. “They’ve been friends a long time. Who would’ve guessed one of my father’s childhood friends would end up in the White House?”

  “Wow,” was all Ginny could think to say.

  “So, your turn,” Carter said, bringing Ginny out of her thoughts. “Start with Sam. Will you introduce me, and why does he call you Kit?”

  Carter wiggled her eyebrows, and Ginny smiled. “I will absolutely introduce you to Sam. He is cute, isn’t he?”