Time and Again

When her hands clenched on the wheel it had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with despair.
    "Meeting my parents is not synonymous with a lifetime commitment."
    Her voice was stiff and cold. If he hadn't been so lost in his own unhappiness, he would have heard the hurt beneath it.
    "You didn't mention visiting your parents." The fact was, he didn't want to meet them, or to think of them as people.
    "I didn't think it was necessary." Her clutch foot began to tap on the floorboards. "I realize your idea of family differs from mine, but I wouldn't think of coming back to town and not seeing them."
    Bitterness rose like bile in his throat. "You have no idea what family means to me."
    "No?" She gave a quick, moody shrug. "Let's just say I can surmise that you don't have a problem cutting certain members of it out of your life for extended periods. Your business," she said before he could retort. "And you're certainly not obligated to come with me when I go to see my family." Her fingers began to tap in time with her foot. "In fact, I'll be happy not to even mention your name."
    He was careful not to speak again. If he did, too much of what he was feeling would pour out, leaving too much to be explained.
    She didn't know how he felt. It was all so easy, so straightforward, for her. All she had to do was hop into this excuse for transportation and spend a few hours on what passed for a roadway. And she could see her family. By using the current system of communication she could speak with them over relatively long distances. Even if she decided to travel to the other side of the planet, some element of twentieth-century technology would provide a link.
    She knew nothing of separation, of losing a part of yourself and not knowing why. How would she react if she found herself faced with the possibility of never seeing her sister again?
    She wouldn't be so damn smug then.
    For the next hour or so, Jacob amused himself by sneering at the other vehicles on the road. Ridiculously clumsy, slow and absurdly inefficient. Carbon monoxide pumping into the atmosphere. Gleefully poisoning their own air. They had no respect, he thought. For themselves, their resources, their descendants.
    And she thought he was insensitive.
    He wondered what would happen if he strolled into what passed for a research lab in this age and showed them the procedure for fusion.
    They'd probably sacrifice a lamb and make him a god.
    He sat back, arms crossed. They'd just have to figure it out for themselves. Right now, his biggest problem was keeping warm, with all the cold air blowing off of Sunny.
    He frowned when she pulled out onto a ramp. He hadn't been paying close attention, but he was certain they hadn't driven for five hours. "What are you doing?"
    "I'm going to get something to eat and put gas in the car." She snapped the words off without a glance at him.
    Hugging her resentment to her, she pulled into a gas station, got out and slammed the door behind her.
    As she reset the self-service pump, she muttered under her breath.
    She'd forgotten how his mind worked. Obviously he was deluding himself into believing that she was luring him into some sort of trap. I want you to meet my parents. How do you feel about a double-ring ceremony? Sunny ground her teeth. It was insulting.
    Maybe she was in love with him-and that was a situation she dearly hoped could be reversed-but she hadn't done one single thing to pressure him. Or to lead him to believe that her heart was all aflutter at waiting for him to get down on one knee.
    If he thought she'd intended to flaunt him in front of her parents like so much matrimonial beefcake, he had another think coming. The jerk.
    Jacob sat a moment, then decided to get out to stretch his legs. And get a look at his surroundings.
    So this was a refueling station, he mused, studying the gas pumps. Sunny had stuck the nozzle end of a hose into a compartment on the side of the Land Rover. From her expression, she didn't look too happy about standing out in the cold with her hand on the switch. Behind her, the pump-the gasoline pump, he elaborated-clicked as numbers turned over. The odor of fuel was strong.
    Other cars crowded the pump islands. Some waited in their vehicles for a man in a cap to come out and go through the procedure Sunny was doing for herself. Others did as she was, and shivered in the cold.
    He watched a woman bundle a trio of children around the side of a building that was set farther off the