Linkage (The Narrows of Time Series Book 1)

by Jay J. Falconer

  Great, he thought. There’s no way Mr. Mohawk didn’t hear that. My date: ruined. My ass: toast. He cringed, closed his eyes, and waited for the jock to come over to their table. The moment stretched into two moments. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes, and all he could see was Abby.

  “Drew, are you okay?” she asked, using her foot to retrieve the fork. She bent down, grabbed it, and put it on the table.

  It took a few moments to get his voice working again. “I’m fine. Just went down the wrong pipe. And I got something in my eye. Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay. Was kinda cute, actually.”

  “It was?”

  “Yeah. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who’s a little nervous. I don’t usually go out on coffee dates, like ever. Or any real dates, either. You know, with studying and all there just isn’t much time. Plus most guys I meet are complete selfish jerks. But this is nice.”

  Drew smiled. He was relieved. Maybe his date wasn’t ruined after all. He reviewed their conversation in his head—she’d just told him she lived in Cochise Hall. He decided to pick up right there, not knowing if he should address all her nice comments. “What’s it like living in Cochise? I’ve never been in that dorm. Are there single rooms or doubles?

  “Doubles, mostly. I have a roommate, just like you. Her name’s Jasmine. She’s a pre-med student from Colorado. I’m lucky. I’ve heard so many roommate horror stories, but she’s really fun and we get along great. Her dad’s in the military. Some general, she said. I’ve never met him face to face, but he called once and I answered.”

  “Are they close?” Drew said, thinking of his deceased father.

  “Not really. He’s too busy, I think.”

  “Are you from Colorado, too?” he asked, checking the checkout line. Rugby player was still busy working his way through.

  “No, I’m from Milwaukee, Wisconsin.”

  Drew wasn’t much of a sports fan, but felt confident he could fake it. He guessed at some facts, hoping he remembered them correctly. “Oh yes, the home of the Packers and the Wisconsin Badgers. Do you get home much?”

  “Only during the summer when I can drive back home. It’s too expensive to fly over the Christmas break.”

  Cool, Drew thought. She’ll be on campus over the break. Just like him and Lucas. He wouldn’t have to wait long for another date, assuming he didn’t mess this up and she wanted another date. Just keep the conversation moving, he thought—no awkward pauses. “My mom lives up in Phoenix. Usually she drives down and picks us up for the holiday, but she had heart surgery recently and can’t drive. So we plan to stay here and work on our project over the break.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s doing great. One of our neighbors watches out for her. The doctors say she should be able to get back to work soon.”

  Drew glanced at the counter again. The rugby player was still chatting with the girls in line. So far, so good, except now his stomach was turning flips. He might need to make a run for the bathroom soon. Not a bad idea, he thought. It would make a good place to hide—for a while a least. But what would happen if that guy followed him into the restroom? He’d be cornered, alone, and helpless. He decided to remain where he was—plenty of other people around.

  “What’s your mom do?” Abby asked.

  “She’s a mathematics professor at Paradise Community College in Phoenix.”

  “And your dad?”

  “He died two years ago.”

  She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Drew. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay. There was no way you could have.”

  “Still, I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing her soft forefinger across the top of his hand. He looked at her and she smiled back with a glaze of tears in her eyes.

  “It’s okay, really. We’ve put it all behind us as a family. It was tough, though. Kinda came out of nowhere. Dad went into the hospital one day for a routine test, and never came out. They were doing an angiogram on his neck and something went wrong. We never really got the whole story.”

  “You must really miss him.”

  Drew stared into his coffee while swirling it around with a thin red straw. He looked up, but couldn’t see the bully through Abby’s head. “Yeah, very much. Besides my brother, he was my best friend. We used to spend all day working on inventions in his workshop. Those were great times.”

  “Your dad was an inventor?”

  “Well, he tried to be, but he never really had much success. He did come up with this cool self-cleaning toilet, but nobody was interested. I guess electricity and bowel movements weren’t meant to go together.”

  She laughed.

  He continued with confidence. “Dad’s best invention was a sonic pest control system. He even found some investors for it, but the EPA chased them away when their field testing showed it liquefied dog brains.”

  “Gross,” she said, slurping from her cup.

  “I know, right. It was epic.”

  “Do you ever think about continuing his work?”

  “Sometimes Lucas and I talk about it, but we’ve never had the time. We’ve both been so busy with school. I guess we should, though. The idea is solid, and I’m sure we could work out the kinks. All his equipment is still in the garage back home. After he died, Mom couldn’t bear to part with any of it.”

  He thought he was talking too much about himself. “How about you? Are your parents back in Wisconsin?”

  Her smile vanished and her shoulders slumped. “They both passed away my senior year in high school. I miss them so much.”

  Drew tried to respond, but couldn’t find the words. His throat went dry and he felt a stab of compassion for her. She looked so sad. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know if he should hold her hand or roll over to her and give her a hug. He did neither. He felt useless.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Abby. I can tell you really loved them.”

  Abby wiped a tear from her cheek. “Mom died from colon cancer. Dad passed away in his sleep six months later. I think he died of a broken heart. They were together almost forty years.”

  “I’ve heard that’s pretty common for couples who’ve been married for a long time,” he said with a soft tone in his voice. “Sounds like they loved each other very much.”

  A smile washed over Abby’s lips. She nodded quickly. The joy returned to her eyes. “Yes, they did. And we were close. I was lucky growing up. We were a happy family.”

  Drew took another swig of coffee. It didn’t taste quite as bad this time. It still wasn’t pleasant, but at least he no longer wanted to spit it out. “Anyone else? Sisters or brothers?”

  “I’m an only child, just like my dad. My mom had a sister, though, but she died when I was really young. Some horrible dump truck accident. I don’t remember her at all. What about you? Any aunts or uncles?”

  “Nah. Just me, Lucas, and Mom. Oh, and Grandpa Roy. But we never see him anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to bore you with family drama.”

  “I’m curious. I want to know more about you.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, unless I’m prying.” She paused. “I’m sorry, am I being too nosy?”

  “No, not at all.” Drew tried to wrap his mind around the idea that an attractive girl was interested in his family life. He didn’t understand why, but decided to tell her anyway. “Well,” he began, “we haven’t spoken much since the time we almost had to call the police on him.”

  “Oh my God.” Abby raised her eyebrows. “What happened?”

  “It was Thanksgiving, four years ago. Everything was going along just fine until Roy decided to open a second jug of wine. It wasn’t long before he and Dad were totally sloshed, and then all hell broke loose. They started cussing and shoving each other, then Roy took a swing at my dad. Next thing I know, they’re beating the crap out of each other and Mom is screaming at them to sto
p. Lucas jumped in to break it up, but he took one in the jaw—knocked him out cold. The fight stopped on its own at that point.”

  “What started it?”

  “Seemed like every time Roy stayed with us, he’d harp endlessly about Dad getting a real job. He’s a real traditional guy. He didn’t approve of Dad being an inventor and working from home. He thought the husband’s job was to work, and the wife’s job was to stay home, raise kids, and cook and clean. He didn’t approve of my mom’s teaching career, either. Most of the time my dad just brushed it off, but when he drank, he had less tolerance for Roy’s constant criticism. That night, he’d just had enough. He got tired of it and said something he shouldn’t have.”

  “I can see why Roy’s not welcome anymore.”

  Drew continued. “He’s a high-ranking Army intelligence officer and moves around a lot, so we wouldn’t see him much anyway. I think he’s back East somewhere right now. The last time we saw him was at Dad’s funeral. He arrived late and sat in the back of the church. He left before the service was over.”

  “That’s too bad. Family’s important, and you’d think he’d want to stay in touch, especially after your dad died.”

  “Actually, he and Lucas started talking again recently.”

  “They did?”

  “Yep, but Lucas doesn’t know I know. Last week, I stumbled across a few emails hidden in his spam folder by accident.”

  “He puts them in the spam folder?”

  “I guess he figures I wouldn’t look there. But I probably shouldn’t have told you. I’m sorry. Don’t say anything, okay?”

  “I won’t,” Abby said. “Have you ever thought about calling Roy?”

  “To be honest, never. He and I have nothing in common. I’m into science and he’s career military. Lucas is into all that stuff, but I could care less.”

  “You and Lucas seem to get along well.”

  “Yeah, we do. I don’t know what I’d do without him,” Drew said, missing his brother more than ever at that moment. He checked the counter line again—Mohawk man was still there. He wished he’d just go away.

  “I take it you’re older than your brother?” Abby asked.

  “A lot of people think that. Actually, he’s six months older than me.”

  “You guys look so different.”

  “That’s because he’s Irish and I’m Italian. I’m sure Dr. Kleezebee didn’t tell you . . . but we’re both adopted.”

  She paused, giving off a look of surprise. “Oh, that makes sense. I thought you were stepbrothers or something.”

  “I’m sure a lot of people think we’re brothers from a different mother, which of course we are, just not in the way they think. But we don’t go around advertising.”

  “I don’t blame you. It’s really nobody’s business, including mine.”

  “It’s okay, Abby. I want you to know everything about me.” He suddenly felt like he’d said something wrong. “Was that too much?”

  “Not at all.” She smiled. “Is it too much that I want to know everything about you?”

  “No,” he said. “I like it.”

  “Good,” she said. “So go ahead. Tell me.”

  He decided to start at the beginning. “It’s simple, really. The state put us together as roommates when we were really little. Lucas barely said anything to me the first month. But he finally came around. I guess I grew on him. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

  “Your parents adopted both of you, together?”

  “Yeah, we were a package deal. It doesn’t happen that way very often. We lucked out.” Drew checked the counter again—the miscreant was next in line at the cash register. He thought about faking an excuse to go home, but didn’t want to leave Abby there all alone. What if the rugby player tried to hit on her? Or worse, what if he spotted him leaving and followed him outside?

  The rugby player opened his wallet and handed a few bills to the checkout girl, who was chewing gum and blowing six-inch pink bubbles with it.

  Drew’s heart sank. It wouldn’t be long before Mr. Asshole spotted him. Sweat dripped from his temples and his hands shook. He decided to roll up his sleeves to expose his biceps. They were still pumped up from that morning’s pushups and might be enough to dissuade the troublemaker from stopping at their table. It was a long shot, but it was the only idea he could muster.

  “Wow, you have really strong arms,” Abby said with a curious look on her face.

  Drew felt blood swelling in his cheeks and forehead, certainly turning his face a beet-red color. He was worried she might think he was showing off. “Uh . . . yeah, it’s a little hot in here with all the coffee and stuff. I’m still a little sweaty from my workout this morning. I hope I don’t smell.”

  She touched his hand again. “Sweetie, you smell really nice.”

  “Thanks, I was a little worried there for a moment.” Drew wiped the sweat off his face with the folded red napkin sitting in front of him on the table.

  She smiled back at him. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to.”

  “No, go ahead. Ask me anything.”

  “How did Lucas get that horrible scar on his face?”

  Drew laughed. “Which one?”

  Abby pointed to her right cheek, just under her eye. “The big one.”

  “It came from this boy, crazy Dave, who never stopped picking on us in the orphanage. He was a lot older than we were, but it didn't seem to matter. One day, when Lucas was protecting me, the kid picked up a piece of broken glass and stabbed Lucas in the face. Cut him all the way to the bone. It took sixty-three stitches to sew him up. Thank God the house monitor guy jumped in to stop it. He held on to Dave until the police showed up and took him to juvy.”

  “It must’ve been awful growing up in that place.”

  “It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. Luckily for us, Mom and Dad came along and adopted us. I’m not sure either of us would’ve survived much longer.”

  Just then, someone bumped into the table, lifting it up about two inches. Drew grabbed his and Abby’s coffee cups, catching them both before they tipped over. When he looked up to see who smashed into the table, the breath ran out of his lungs. It was the rugby player. Drew ducked his head, figuring a punch to his jaw was next.

  “Sorry, my bad,” the man said, trying not to spill the three coffee cups on his tray. He squeezed behind Drew’s wheelchair and scooted by. The two girls with him followed suit.

  “Nice catch,” Abby said.

  “Got lucky,” Drew said, trying to catch his breath. He kept an eye on the player as he walked through the side entrance and sat outside at a table on the terrace. The girls took seats on either side of him.

  “Do you remember your biological parents?” Abby asked.

  “Not really. My bio-mom died in a car accident when I was like eighteen months old or something. At least that’s the story I was told. I was in the car with her, but I don’t remember anything. Supposedly, she fell asleep at the wheel while we were on our way home from daycare after she’d worked a double shift at the hospital. The car flipped over several times and landed in a ditch. My legs were pinned underneath. Would you like to see a picture of her?”

  “I’d love to.”

  He reached inside the collar of his shirt and pulled out the leather pouch hanging from his neck. Inside was a pristine picture of a beautiful, dark-haired woman. He handed the photo to her.

  “One of the orphanage’s volunteer workers found her picture and had it laminated. Lucas made the pouch for me.”

  Abby studied the photo. “She’s beautiful. I see where you get your good looks.”

  Drew wasn’t prepared for her compliment and didn’t respond right away. “Her name was Lauren Falconio. She was an ER nurse and was studying at night to become a doctor.”

  Abby turned the photo over. “What’s this date? February 12, 1985.”

  “The day she died. I wanted to remember it,” he said, then pointed dow
n at his legs. “The same day this happened.”

  Abby didn’t say anything as she gave the photo back to Drew.

  He slid it into the leather pouch and tucked it inside his shirt.

  “Hang on a sec,” she said with a furrowed brow, reaching into her purse. “There’s something I want to check.” Her fingers were now holding a smart phone, which she promptly turned on and started typing into.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “Nope. That date . . . sounds really familiar to me.”

  Drew waited while she swiped at her phone.

  “I thought so,” she said, flipping the device around to show him something. “Remember the dump truck accident I was talking about? The one that killed my aunt?”

  Drew nodded, staring at the device. A newspaper article and photo was on the screen showing a mangled pileup of vehicles at an intersection.

  “Same day,” she said. “February 12, 1985.”

  “Jesus, what happened?”

  “Some dumbass in the dump truck ran a red light and smashed into a city bus that my aunt was riding in. My mom said she was in Tucson that week for a job interview.”

  “I’m sorry, Abby. That’s terrible.”

  “Thanks,” she said, turning the phone around and looking at it for a good fifteen seconds. Then her eyes moved up and met Drew’s. “So what do you think the odds are that both of us lost somebody in two different traffic accidents on the same day and in the same town?”

  “I don’t know. Beyond astronomical, I guess.”

  “It’s like we’re linked together somehow. Across time and space.”

  He didn’t believe in all the cosmic connection stuff but wanted to be supportive. “I think you’re right. Some kind of linkage.”

  “We must’ve been destined to meet. Right here. Right now, in Tucson.”

  Drew smiled, not sure what else to say.

  She put the phone away, then looked up at him with a face that no longer looked sad. It was almost as if she flipped off the emotional channel inside of her. “But enough about me and my family drama. So, your biological mom was studying to be a doctor? Tell me everything.”