Free The Color of Heaven - 09 - The Color of Time by Julianne MacLean Page B

tightly…

Chapter Twenty-one

    Maine
    Summer, 1999

    “Slow down, you’re driving too fast,” Ethan said to me as we rounded a bend in the road on the way out to Cape Elizabeth.
    “I can’t help it.” I took my foot off the gas pedal and hit the brakes hard, just to knock him around a bit in the passenger seat. “I’m annoyed.”
    He placed a hand on the dashboard to brace himself while the radio cut in and out. A streetlamp flickered on and off as we zoomed beneath it.
    “I don’t know what the big deal is,” he said. “You’ve been wanting to see the inside of the house for ages, and now I’m taking you there. I don’t know why you’re mad.”
    Was this a dream? Or was I awake, as I had been on the rocky beach that day with the salty sea breeze on my cheeks? Remembering?
    Knowing exactly what the future held for us that night, I took my eyes off the road for a moment and turned to look at Ethan in the pink glow of the setting sun.
    “Let’s not go to your house,” I said. “Let’s go to the Lobster Shack instead and get some french fries. I’m starving.”
    “There’s food at the house,” Ethan said.
    “Yeah, but I’m in the mood for fries,” I replied. “Really, I gotta have ’em.”
    Ethan’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What’s going on? You’ve been after me for a year to show you the house. Now you want to go and get french fries?”
    “It’s nuts, right?” I replied with a dazzling smile, as if I had a secret I couldn’t wait to share with him. I felt so happy! “But I just decided that I can wait to see your house. It’s not going anywhere. Besides, what if your parents come home? Your dad would have a fit if he found me there. I’d rather meet them another way, when we can prepare them for it—later, when you have more freedom. They’ll have to accept your decisions eventually, right?”
    “They won’t come home,” Ethan assured me. “They’re on their way to the airport right now. The jet’s there, waiting for them. Dad was talking to the pilot on the phone an hour ago.”
    I gently touched the brake to slow down at another sharp bend in the road. “I have a funny feeling about it, that’s all,” I said, keeping what I knew of the future to myself. “Let’s do it another time.”
    Ethan stared at me curiously for a moment, then took his hand off the dash. “All right. If that’s what you want to do.”
    “It is,” I replied. I took hold of his hand and squeezed it, feeling confident that I had done it. I had changed the course of our futures, for the better.
    If only this was real .
    If only it wasn’t just a dream.

An Unexpected Fork in the Road

Chapter Twenty-two

    The Foster Mansion
    August 6, 2015

    I sat up in the darkness and pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead, which was pounding like the dickens. I felt disoriented, not sure where I was or even what day it was. Was it morning yet? Did I have to go to work? I glanced at the red numbers on the digital alarm clock next to the bed and saw that it was 4:30 a.m.
    No wonder I felt groggy. It was practically the middle of the night and I was still half asleep. I’d gone to bed too late. Lord knows, I should never have opened that bottle of wine at 11:00. What was I thinking? I was thirty-three years old. I should know better by now.
    A strange feeling tingled my fingertips as I lay there blinking up at the ceiling. I shook my head to try and rouse myself. Suddenly the darkness in the room unsettled me. I felt blind. I needed to see. Rolling to my side, I reached over to switch on the lamp.
    The lightbulb buzzed and flickered. I frowned as I looked around. Everything felt strangely foreign, as if I were waking up in a B&B that belonged to someone else, but that was silly because this was my own bedroom and I was in my own home—my summer mansion by the sea, which Ethan’s mother had left to us in her will.
    Tossing the covers aside, I slid out of bed and touched my feet to the