Mayan Lover Read Free Page A

programmed for friends and family … all of hers went to
911. You can’t spend the rest of your life clutching the
phone like a security blanket. Gwen forced herself to put it back
in her pocket.
    With Martha as the buffer between Gwen and the
monster her husband morphed into, she’d eventually gained the
courage to return to Oxford and complete her degree at an accelerated
pace. At first she’d moved back home with her mother, only to
learn her mother was reporting everything she did and said to John.
That was when Maggie had offered Gwen the couch in her tiny
one-bedroom apartment.
    Her relationship with her mother had never been
particularly good, yet her mother siding with John had broken Gwen’s
trust beyond repair. They lived less than a mile from each other, but
Gwen had only seen her mother a half-dozen times since then, and most
were the result of small town life—accidental bumps in a
grocery store, diner, or hair salon.
    Only once had Gwen reached out to her mother for
anything—her father’s dig tools. She needed them for a
course. “You have a husband to supply the things you need,
Gwennie. He’s apologized so many times. I raised you to show
forgiveness,” her mother scolded. Gwen had borrowed, traded,
and begged to get the tools elsewhere, even though brand-new tools
showed up on her doorstep. Those she donated to the archaeology
department.
    Since she had been legally married to a
successful man, Gwen didn’t qualify for grants. Maggie had
gotten her a part-time job at the museum to supplement the meager
student loans and the money she earned tutoring in her spare time.
With the divorce finalized, Gwen had finally qualified for an intern
grant coupled with the scholarship she’d been awarded and the
five hundred dollars she’d managed to save, and at least some
of her financial difficulties had eased. Even her therapist had waved
the balance Gwen owed, saying, “call it a graduation present”;
Gwen had blubbered the rest of the session with gratitude.
    So why did she feel obligated to come to her
mother’s dinner? Hope her mother might miss her? That her
mother might finally understand why she’d had to leave her
marriage? Not likely. Her father had given all of his love to Gwen
while constantly verbally and physically abusing her mother until the
day he dropped dead of a heart attack. Gwen had been a freshman at
UM. Carol had justified and taken responsibility for the abuse.
Somehow it was always Carol’s fault, never her father’s.
“Marriage is a forever commitment, Gwennie.” “I was
watching my programs and overcooked the roast, Gwennie.” “My
laziness in ironing his shirts made your father rightfully angry.”
    The perfectly manicured lawn and freshly swept
porch loomed in front of her. The up-kept older home looked so warm
and welcoming from the outside. Inside it held the good and bad
memories of her father and the twisted perspectives of her mother;
both had ruined Gwen’s view of what a healthy relationship was
for all time. Paranoid fear returned, threatening to overwhelm her.
Panic gripped her chest, making it difficult to breathe. RUN, her
mind screamed. Before she could take the first step, the screen door
opened with a creak.
    “Gwennie.” Her mother sounded so
happy to see her. “Please, come in and set the table. Dinner
will be ready in a few minutes.”
    ****
    Arka sat up, still clutching the skull. Twelve
men and women with stunned, gaping jaws stood in the exact spots
where the shamans had stood only seconds ago. They each held crystal
skulls that were far different than those he’d left behind.
These were small, fist-sized, and the skeletal faces lacked the
nuance of power and wisdom.
    “Wow.” A man pushed through the
circle. Arka didn’t know the word he spoke, but he understood
the look of awe on his face enough to gather its meaning.
    “Ci’.” Arka grinned. He’d
made it, alive, to the future. The question was … where in the
future? The man was