One Great Year (41 page)

“I told you, money's not my big objective,
and
I don't feel like I barely know you,” he said, reaching across the low table and taking her hand in his. He had wanted to do it from the moment he had seen her. Their connection sent shivers up both their arms, visibly raising the hairs.

“I know what you mean,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze but pulling away. “We have to go,” she said suddenly.

Quinn withdrew his empty hand. “Oh, yeah, okay,” he said, conscious of the awkwardness of the moment.

“No, it's not that … the restaurant's been closed for half an hour, and if we don't leave soon he'll lock us in!” she laughed, gesturing toward the kitchen behind him.

They had been there for three and a half hours, too wrapped up in one another and their rapid-fire conversation to notice the tired owner, anxious to close until the dinner rush. Quinn apologized as they left, and he threw an extra tip on the pile.

“Where to now? Do I have to take you home, or can we take a walk and continue our date right through dinner tonight?” Quinn suggested hopefully, as they neared his car.

“Date?” she repeated, with a question in her voice. “I'm sorry, but … everything's just …” she began, and Quinn felt as though he had been kicked in the gut.

She was pulling away. He had pushed too hard. She had already said that she hadn't been interested in Nate, that it was only business. Why hadn't he asked her about Elijah's father? He hadn't wanted to know. He hadn't asked because he hadn't wanted to entertain the possibility of anything keeping them apart.

“No, I'm sorry. I should have read you better,” he interrupted.

“You read me exactly right, Max, but we can't … if we're going to do this project together, and I think we are
meant
to do this project together. What with the blog and then Nate … it's too much ‘synchronicity' as you'd say. It must be destiny. I just don't want to screw it up. I feel it, right down to the roots of my hair—it is so important that we do this.”

“Okay, I get it … I'm on board. I wanna do it. It might be exactly what we are meant to do together … but I don't think that it's
all
we are meant to do together,” Quinn added, with a wink. He was flirtatious and casual on the outside, but inside he was churning with alarm that his longing for her would go unanswered.

“Friends … professional. We need to keep focused,” she said. “You okay with that?”

“Do I have a choice?” he said, forcing a smile.

“Oh, Max, there's always a choice,” she said.

As they got in his car, Eden wondered if she could work with Quinn and ignore her growing attraction to him. The thought made her feel both guilty and excited all at once.

They drove the short distance to her home, enjoying the warm spring sunshine through the windshield, and finally Quinn spoke.

“Tell me about Elijah's dad,” he said, and Eden took a deep breath.

“He was killed in Afghanistan just over a year ago. I'm still in shock most of the time. I'm so used to him being away, sometimes I just forget he's …
gone
. Gone … I expect him to show up, you know?”

She absentmindedly played with the ring dangling around her neck while she spoke. She hadn't said dead, she had said “gone.” He was still alive for her, and Quinn understood how hard it must be. If there was one thing he had learned in his many years, it was empathy for loss and grief.

“I'm so sorry. Was he a soldier?”

“No. Jamie and I were both aid workers when we met. After I had Elijah, I got a more family-friendly job and settled down here near his parents. Jamie was an engineer and stayed with the relief agency, traveling back and forth.”

“Sounds like a good guy.”

“He is … was. It's been really hard on Elijah. We were supposed to meet Jamie in Egypt this June. It was going to be the summer that we got back on the aid trail … this time as a family. Elijah's home-schooled anyway, so I guess I was just waiting until I thought he was old enough before we became full-fledged gypsies again.”

She had planned to return to Egypt—the land of the Great Pyramid, Alexander, and the Emerald Tablet. Did it mean something?

“And now? What'll you do when you finish the project?” Quinn asked.

“It's going to take a long time, and I don't plan anymore, Max. I knew better even back then. Life always throws curves, and plans fall away. Now I try to live in the moment, and I know life will unfold as it is meant to as long as I stay open and watchful.”

I was watching for you
, Quinn thought, but instead he said: “Absolutely right,” and they drove in silence for a moment.

“You need a kickass website that can handle as many millions of hits as could happen. It has to have easy YouTube links, Twitter, Facebook, all the social media that will attract viewers. It has to be able to run the entire documentary … that is what you want right?” Quinn said, changing the subject. Enough sadness, enough grief, he wanted her to look forward, not backward.

“Yes!” she said, her excitement renewed. “We want to make it free for the world, so anyone can see it and be a part of the movement forward. I don't want anything for sale on the site. Only links to some of the other great inspirational and informative sites I've found.”

“I hate this part Eden, but I gotta ask … how are you funding this? Filming costs money if it's done right. You said you're not working now that you've started this full time.”

“Life insurance. Jamie had a policy. I have about three hundred thousand before I am totally broke. I thought that would last us a few years, but then the idea for the project hit me and I knew I had to give it everything … even if it is risky. I feel like that's what the money was for. Of course we still have to live and pay all our monthly expenses. I figure we have a year to get it done, and since the kids we interview don't charge, it's really just me, Elijah … now you and Nate, and equipment and lighting and travel and, oh shit …” she said, obviously overwhelmed.

“I can take care of me, don't worry about that. As for Nate, his trust fund has more money than he could ever spend. That's why he can fool around doing the creative scene and choosing his projects, instead of shooting crap commercials.”

“He was upset the other night. I hope I didn't lead him on,” she said kindly.

Theron was shining through, and Quinn felt the thickest sense of déjà-vu, except he understood why.

“Well, when he finds out you shut me down too, he'll be fine,” Quinn laughed, though it hurt him deeply to say it.

“Oh God, you do say what you think, don't you?”

“Always. And Eden, after the bulk of the work is finished, I want you to promise you'll see me then … if you want to.”

“I can't promise. You could very well meet someone in the meantime, you could change your mind. We never know where we'll be, I've learned that,” she insisted.

“I can guarantee
that
will not happen,” Quinn said, smiling and resisting the urge to kiss her.
Oh God! The next few months are going to be hell
, he thought, and he was right, but things would be far worse than he imagined.

As Quinn had predicted, Nate was happy to commit to the project with only the slightest urging from Eden. It had not, however, been only her persuasion at work on him. The Universe was in league with the idea. Everywhere Nate went he saw articles about the new consciousness and the countdown to a better world, and even as he walked the block from his place to the shop up the street, he marveled at a name on the corner. “Cosmic Crystal's Coffee Cafe,” the sign said, and Nate took note.

He was opening up, slowly, but Nate remained skeptical about all of the New Age spiritual crap he was being exposed to. He wished he could be as convinced and full of faith as some of the others around him. He just didn't know how. How did one become like them? They seemed so compassionate, peaceful, and Zen all the time. They didn't seem to have the same worries as the rest of the world, as if they had found the key to happiness. Were they naïve? Deluded? It didn't matter. Nate knew he wanted to work on the Crystal Project. He wanted to be as close to Eden as he could.

Nate had not forgiven Quinn, but when he was assured that there was no romance going on between his friend and Eden, he had gone to retrieve the last of his belongings.

Quinn was happy to see him and greeted him warmly. After some brief and slightly awkward banter, Quinn dared to ask the question foremost on his mind. “Have you met Elijah yet?” He was hoping Nate would have some insight or feeling of familiarity to share.

“No … tonight. Man, this is so exciting. I got the best new camera for this gig. It shoots video that looks like film.”

“That must've cost you a bit,” Quinn said absently.

“She's worth it,” Nate said simply, eyeing his companion carefully, and once again Quinn felt a knot forming in the center of his chest.

“Yes, she is,” Quinn replied.

“I'm still pissed at you,” Nate said, though it was obvious.

“Nothing happened.”

“It's not like you didn't try,” Nate said bitterly.

“Right, but it is what it is, buddy. There are things going on here you just don't understand.”

“Ugh … the condescension. You don't even know you do it! Why do I put up with you?” Nate said, shaking his head, immediately inflamed.

“You and I are part of the same soul group, man, we've been doing this together for a long time.”

“Yeah, you said that. I'm starting to worry about your mental health,” Nate scowled.

“We've talked about a lot of spiritual stuff. I know it sounds crazy to just say it, but I've known you
and
Eden … many times.”

“So what? So you think you got dibs? Seriously?”

“Don't do that. Don't turn it into something as weak as that,” Quinn said, suddenly irritated.

“Weak? I'm here making an effort, even though you tried to steal her away right in front of me, and you call me weak? Listen … as you always say, ‘it is what it is.' So, may the best man win,” Nate said coldly.

Nate had reason to be smug, knowing that the next day he would embark on three months of uninterrupted traveling time with Eden, as they ventured to the other side of the planet to interview the Crystal Children. Quinn, wishing he could accompany them on their coming journey, had had little more than one afternoon with Eden. But he said nothing more, so Nate left without looking back.

Quinn was determined to help Eden's project succeed. The Crystal Children were the future. Soon everyone would be able to do what these children could—it was the evolution of the human consciousness, a result of the ascending Age. As people saw what was possible, the frequency would heighten. He was determined that when they finished the project, he and Theron would finally be together again.

The blogger worked tirelessly on the website: colors, links, downloads, every bell and whistle. All along he kept up his blog, and Anderson88 continued to comment from afar, though far less frequently. She had a busy schedule, a new blog, and a Twitter account of her own to maintain.

Due to rising fuel costs, travel was more expensive than Eden had first anticipated. However, Brisbane and Sydney had been successful and she was excited about their progress. She chattered in a jerky video conference across Quinn's computer screen, announcing that she had amazing footage she couldn't wait to share with him.

“You should be here, Max! Oh my God, these kids just
get
it. We've only found one poor little victim so far … uuchh … hideous parents. This poor little girl was barely five and her parents were parading her like a freak in a circus … so obviously faking stories and drilling her for memorized information. She was a sweet kid, but not … gifted. In the end I just told them they wouldn't be getting famous or rich by exploiting her with
our
help.”

“Do you worry that the documentary might cause more of that? More victimization, circus mentality?” Quinn asked, his forehead creased with concern.

“I do. But what's the alternative? To let the world ignore their amazing potential for contribution? They have a message to bring, and maybe it'll help some people nurture their kids instead of thinking they have mental problems!”

“Hopefully.”

“I'd love to get all of these kids together in one place someday. It'd be amazing!”

“A school,” Quinn said, thinking of the Mystery School and knowing what a fertile ground it had laid. He had begun dreaming about the Mystery School often and had many flash backs to his life as Plato. He imagined himself and Eden gathering the Emissaries from around the globe and working toward a peaceful, loving vision for the world. His dreams were speaking to him as they often had, and Quinn was wise enough to listen.

“Exactly! But there have already been ‘special' schools, and some have been a bit of a scam and a mess … and really, what do we know about running a school?” Eden said apprehensively.

“We could do better. I know something about teaching and you were a teacher, how hard can it be? Anyway, they just need a place to gather and teach one another, don't they?” Quinn asked.

“I like it. I like it a lot! But one step at a time. We can't think about that now. First we have to finish the film. We have months of editing to do once the footage is shot, and then there's all the marketing and promotion. How's the website coming?” she asked excitedly, though wanting not to be demanding, since he had yet to accept any payment from her.

“Ready when you are, all we need is your footage.”

“I wish you'd let me pay you something,” she said, smiling, and the screen froze, her grin perfectly captured for a moment, her dark hair loose and flowing over her shoulders.