The Time Capsule

Amber

I found Selena where James said I would. She was under the maple tree, crying.

“he’s leaving.” She sobs when I kneel down next to her.

“no, he’s not leaving.” She looks up at me, doubt in her eyes. “he’s not leaving Selena.” I reassure her. If I could guess what was going on back at the house, it would probably be Greg blocking the doorway.

Selena continued to cry as I just rubbed her back soothingly. “h-he cheated on me.”

“I know.”

“wi-with Mar-ry Lou.”

“I figured as much.”

After about another ten minutes of crying she finally settles for quiet hiccups, “he-he hates me.”

“Selena, James doesn’t hate you. quite the opposite I’m sure.”

She shakes her head, “no, he told me everything and I didn’t say anything. He hates me.”

“stop saying that. You and I both know it’s not true. I’m not telling you to suck it up or anything, but you need to not say stuff like that. James loves you, Selena. He may not exactly know how to show it, but it’s there.” I stand up and hold my hand to help her stand too. “now how about we get back to the house? You need to rest some.” She nods and we start a very slow walk back to the house.

When I finally got Selena to bed I made my way to the kitchen where Greg was. He’d seen us walk in but didn’t bother to say anything. Though now James was down there too, not looking too good himself.

I pour myself a cup of tea when I feel a pair of arms wrap themselves around me. I smile, wondering how I lived so many years without Greg in my life. He was always the person to brighten my day then and now.

“really? You guys are going to act all lovey dovey in front of me now?” James complains, glaring at us.

Greg kisses my cheek and then looks up at James, “well, show Selena that you’re truly sorry, and you’ll be acting like this too.”

Something lit up in James’ eyes, like a lightbulb going off. But not a good lightbulb. “something wrong James?” I ask.

“what room is Selena in?” He asks urgently, standing up.

“um, the one at the far end of the hall. But she’s sleeping and honestly, you’re not the person she’s going to want to see right now. So whatever it is, just wait until morning.” He grumbles a ‘fine’ and leaves the room.

Greg and I sit at the table about pretty random things though I knew he’d want to bring up the topic of me moving to San Diego. It was obviously something that was bothering him. “if you don’t want me to take the job, just tell me. I can call them and decline.”

He rolls his eyes, “we both know the job is too big for you to do that Amber.”

I shrug, “so I’d get some shit from the media for declining, but that doesn’t mean I’d never work again.”

“how far away is the restaurant? Actually, what restaurant is it?”

“Reality.”

“yeah, you’re definitely not telling them no.”

“I c-”

“Amber, you can’t.” Greg thinks for a moment before continuing. “Here’s the deal: You take the job at Reality. But you will live with me and Carrie will need to have a job there, working your hours.”

“I have to live with you? I know this may not be a totally normal relationship but don’t you think that’s moving just a tad bit too fast?” we both had leaned in more during the conversation and now our faces were mere inches from each other. Sometimes I wonder what exactly happened to the shy nerdy boy I knew for half my life. Because this Greg is definitely not shy.

“no, I don’t think sleeping in a guest room is moving too fast.”

“rent?”

“house is paid off, no need for rent.”

“transportation?”

“you’ll have a driver, of course.”

“that I pay for?”

“that’ll be covered by me.”

“Greg, what exactly am I supposed to do with my money?”

He leans forward, his breath warm on my skin, “you can pay for the wedding.” Before I can respond his lips are on mine. What started out like any other kiss turned hot and passionate quickly. We weren’t quite on the table, but not totally off it either.

“can you two please not have sex on my table? I mean, I’m not even related to either of you. The least you can do is do it at your own parent’s house.” Greg and I instantly pulled apart when Grants voice interrupted us.

I smirk up at Greg, “your room or mine?” I ask in a joking tone. He catches on and glances over at Grant rolling his eyes.

“yours since it’ll be my house.” Then we ran upstairs giggling like teenagers. And I’m amazed at how fantastic it feels to act like teenagers again. It feels like so long ago when we were all so carefree. And though many would disagree, being carefree isn’t bad; it just means you choose not to worry. And not worrying about yesterday, today, or tomorrow, is the best feeling in the world.