Page 55 of Meet Me on Greenwood

"Don’t worry. No one can see us with the umbrella if that is what you are worried about." When I hesitated, thinking of the danger this put us both in he said, "I’d hate for you to miss Tulsa’s skyline. The view from the lake is unique. Have you ever seen it?"

"Yes."

His brow lifted.

My mind was mush."I mean, no." That’s what I was supposed to say because I wasn’t supposed to be from here.

The operator shut the gate and Houston sat beside me, pulling the bar closed. He was on edge in a way that I’d never seen before. I could have said no, I could have demanded to get off, but I sensed something was wrong. He kept glancing toward the shoreline behind us, jaw tight, and there was a stillness to him that didn't match the easy smile he'd greeted me with—like he was holding it in place on purpose.

"Are you alright?"

His eyes widened, as if he hadn’t counted on me noticing. Then his face softened. "I am now. Thank you for asking."

Pedaling was difficult at first, but before I knew it, we’d nearly made it around a quarter of the lake. The thought caused me to cling to the bar, the other gripping my mother’s necklace against my chest. How deep was the water, really? I tried not to look over the edge.

"Is something making you nervous?"

My eyes flashed to his. Everything about this situation made me nervous: the water, the danger we could be in if anyone saw us…him. "I just wonder sometimes about the standards of the equipment they use."

"I get on this every year. You’ll be fine."

The seat lurched and I closed my eyes, squeezing until I couldn’t feel my fingers.

"Maybe thinking of something else will help," he offered. "Who gave you that necklace? It is striking on you."

I tried to take a deep breath but found it difficult. "It was my mother’s."

If he seemed relieved by my response I barely noticed. I was too busy watching my feet dangle inches from the water.

"Well, she must have loved you very much if she left it to you."

I shrugged. "I wouldn’t know. She took her own life." The words came out too quickly, and I winced, unsure why I’d said them at all. Maybe it was the water, or maybe it was being near Houston that made me feel unsteady.

He went quiet, I immediately regretted saying anything. Suicide still held a lot of stigma in my own time period. It certainly wasn’t something people admitted to now. "I’m sorry," I said quickly. "I shouldn’t have—"

"My mother died by suicide too."

I turned my gaze to his, stunned. "I am so sorry."

He shook his head. "Strangely, it is cathartic to say those words out loud. I don’t think I’ve ever said them."

We were at the center of the lake when the pedals came to a screeching halt. The sound of the gears grinding against each other caused me to scramble to look for an exit, but there wasn’t one that didn’t involve swimming to shore. That led to even more dread. Flashes of Evan caught in the pool, and then images of my own near drowning consumed my thoughts. I closed my eyes trying to not have an outright panic attack.

"Look at me." Houston’s voice was low and calm.

My eyes stayed shut. "I'm fine."

"You are not fine. Look at me, Gema."

Something about my name on his lips made me open them. He wasn't looking at the skyline or the crowd on shore or anywhere else. Just me. It was almost like we weren't suspended in a large body of water, strapped to questionable machinery.

That’s when I realized his eyes weren’t just blue. They had a touch of brown, like they refused to be just one thing. Depending on the light, one color was more dominant than the other, but staring into them, I saw both.

"There you go," he said quietly. "Just stay right here."

"Here is the problem," I said trying to catch my breath.

"Here is perfectly safe." Houston’s hand moved to cover mine on the bar. His touch was warm and certain.