boy, even this boy, to not realize the practicalities of the matter? Boys were practical in such different ways.
Charlie blinked. His lips turned down.
Oh, dear. She hadn’t told him she hated it. How could she hate anything he gave her? But it was heavy. Was she not allowed to say the truth? Was that how it worked between them now? He had kissed her and so she had to just smile and not say all of what she was thinking? But no, she knew him better than that, because they thought the same things at the same time in the same way.
“It’s the perfect weight for what it is,” Charlie said. “I mean, Emma, look at it.”
She looked. It was lovely. But it still weighed a ton. And that was f ine.
His cheeks were f lushed right up to the tips of his ears. Her eyes lingered on his lips, the ones that had kissed her until she was breathless and giddy.
“If you don’t like it,” Charlie began.
“I love it,” Emma interrupted, because she did. So very much. But if she had designed it, then she would have taken into consideration—
The big hand clicked to twelve. From inside the heavy thing came the miraculous sound of rushing wind, making Emma feel as if she were f lying high up, with Charlie next to her, and then faintly, the call of a hawk, so f ierce that her arms and legs prickled with goosebumps.
“Oh!” Emma gasped. “Oh that’s wonderful!”
Thankfully, Charlie’s frown melted away. “There’s a sound mechanism,” he explained once the hawk had gone quiet. “At the hour and half hour. That’s what makes it so special.”
She nodded again. He took it from her, slipping it over her head. Against her skin the weight no longer bothered her; it felt as though Charlie had transferred a part of himself to it, a protective gesture, like when he placed his hand on the small of her back. Authenticity. She suddenly loved that word. Because that was Charlie. He was incapable of being dishonest.
“You really—?”
“Love it?” she f inished at the same time, emotion welling in her throat. “Oh, Charlie. It’s the most beautiful thing ever.”
His smile was as bright as the stars in Gemini. He pulled her to him, holding her close, then closer, pressing his mouth to hers, and as she melted into his kiss, she imagined the watch keeping time with their thoughts and heartbeats.
Chapter Six
St. Augustine, Florida
1913
Not many days later, as Emma was remembering the feeling of Charlie’s lips against her skin, his hands—oh, his hands!—she f irst heard the news. A traveling preacher had set up a tent revival just outside of town. Soon everyone was talking about Glen Walters.
He was “tall and silver-haired and f leet of tongue,” or so Emma overhead at the gift shop. “A true wonder,” one lady said. “An American treasure,” said another.
When Emma brought it up at supper, her mother snapped at her. “We’re Catholic. We don’t believe in that kind of thing.”
Emma almost felt like snapping back, Then what do we believe in? The last time they’d been to mass was years ago, back at St. Agnes in Brooklyn, where apparently she’d been baptized. She didn’t remember that, of course; she’d been a baby. And at that last mass, Emma had been f ive years old; she remembered only the pungent incense and the life-size crucif ix that hung from the ceiling: Jesus on chains, and those bloody nails in his hands and feet. She’d stare up most of the time, wondering how much it had hurt. Faint fascination—that’s what she remembered about being Catholic. And now, out of nowhere, it was important to her mother?
Emma wasn’t even sure what a revival meeting was. She’d rarely seen her mother so upset, nor had she seen the other people around here so af lutter about things. Normally life—and enthusiasm—moved so slowly here. But now she had to f ind out what the fuss was all about.
Like kissing, she thought. And everything that came after kissing. She knew about that—yes, she did!—though it was probably best to keep religion and kissing separate in her brain.
But Charlie would be at the tent revival. Maybe he would look at her while this Glen Walters preached. Maybe Charlie would hold her hand. Maybe they would sneak out again, and he would kiss her some more. She would wear the pocket watch he gave her even though it made her neck hurt because it really was so