Collision (29 page)

“You have no idea what she’s experienced.”

“I know more than you give me credit for. And if there’s anything I don’t, I can assure you it wouldn’t change my feelings for her in the least.”

“Griffin, you don’t know Cabot one bit, so you shut your mouth right this instant,” Kei shouted. “Not another word. You’re coming off as judgmental and rude. You aren’t perfect, I’m not perfect, and nobody else at this table is either. I won’t allow you to sit here and throw accusations across the table as if you knew what you were talking about.”

“Kei, I’m protecting you.”

“I don’t need protecting, least of all from Cabot.”

“Can we end this please?” her mom asked. “Really? It’s Cabot’s last night here.”

“Thank you,” Kei muttered.

“I’m sure Cabot is an amazing young man,” her mom continued. “If Kei is spending as much time with him as she is, he would have to be.”

“Thank you,” I told her.

“I, for one, hope to see you back here again. You’ve been a joy to have in our home.”

I smiled at her and then looked back at Kei.

She looked down at her plate while I tried to pretend I didn’t feel Griffin’s hostile glare.

C H A P T E R

25

Nothing like getting called out in front of a table full of missionaries. Once Griffin was finished berating me, and I felt about as tall as the flatbread I’d eaten.

Not that anything he said wasn’t true, because, unfortunately, most of it was. I think that was what made it sting more. I knew he was right, and so did Kei.

Her dad tried to salvage dinner and talk about more pleasant things, but it didn’t really work. As Kei would say, Griffin had sacked the night.

When dinner finally ended, several new arrivals entered the house. Small conversations filled the room, and the awkwardness dissipated for all of thirty-five seconds.

“You never said anything about going away for a year,” I whispered as I pulled Kei into the hallway. “Is that why you might not be in Asheville next summer?”

“Yes. It’s a bit of a new development.”

“New since Asheville?”

“Yes.”

“New since meeting me, in other words.”

“I-I don’t know about that. My father just feels it would be a great way for me to prepare for this life.”

“And keep you away from the possibility of a different one.”

“What different one?”

“A life with—”

“Kei,” Griffin said as he turned the corner.

“Me maybe.”

She didn’t hear me finish the sentence. She was concentrating on Griffin as he walked toward us.

“Hey, sweetie.” He walked up and gave her a hug while he gave me a hostile glare. “Can I borrow you for a little bit?”

“Well, Cabot and I were in the middle of—”

“You won’t mind, will you, Cabot?” he asked. I read sarcasm in his voice, but Kei didn’t seem to notice. “She leaves tomorrow, and I won’t see her until I return to Gulu in February. You can’t blame me for wanting a few minutes alone with her?”

“No. I wouldn’t mind at all,” I lied.

I looked at Kei, expecting to read something on her face, but it was more blank than anything.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guy extend his hand and wait for me to shake it. I didn’t respond. I stood staring at her, hoping I could rewind time and erase his interruption. She avoided my glare and looked down at the ground.

“I’ll have you back in about an hour,” Griffin said.

She didn’t respond.

“Kei?” he asked.

“What?”

“Let’s go. No matter what was said at the table back there, it was nice to meet you, Cabot,” he said, attempting to shake my hand again.

I shook it. “You too.”

“Take good care of Kei on the trip back to the States. I’d like her to get back to me safe and sound.”

“I plan on taking very good care of her. Won’t let her out of my sight. She’ll be within arm’s length, if not on my arm, at all times. Trust me.”

His neck and jaw tightened. “I appreciate that,” he said, but I could tell he was not sincere.

Without a word, she followed him down the hall and out of the mission house. I went back to my room, laid down, and tried to keep from freaking out. It was one of the most agonizing close to two hours of my life, even more agonizing than when she broke her foot and left me sitting at home while she went to the hospital, almost as agonizing as waiting to hear if she’d survived her bout with malaria, but not nearly as agonizing as saying good-bye when she left me standing in Asheville.

Finally, I heard their voices as they walked past my window. I knew that Griffin planned for me to hear them. My room was in the back of the house. There was no reason for them to be walking back there, other than the fact that he wanted me to know they were there.

I pulled the curtain back and peered out the window at them. I figured if he wanted me to see them, I might as well honor his wishes.

They stood next to the outside kitchen and talked for several minutes, making no physical contact whatsoever, and then he finally kissed her, looked toward my window, and left.

When he was out of sight, I walked to the hallway and waited for her to come inside.

When she turned the corner, she seemed surprised to see me. “Cabot? You’re still up?”

“Yeah.”

I waved for her to join me and waited for her to get inside my room before shutting the door behind us.

“What was that?” I whispered but could hardly keep myself from screaming. My blood was practically boiling.

“What was what?”

“That! Is that what you call a snog? ’Cause if that’s a snog, then I’m glad it’s not what we do in America.”

“Were you spying on us?”

“Of course.”

“You had no right—”

“His arms were hanging at his side.”

“He wasn’t pawing all over me. So what?”

“So what? The guy is about to be away from you for two months!”

She crossed her arms and glared over at me. “And your point?”

“My point is that if you were mine and I was about to be away from you for two months, you wouldn’t be able to pry my hands or lips off your body ’til the second I had to board the plane. And trust me. I wouldn’t be kissing you like that.”

“Oh, bloody hell. That’s the biggest pile of rubbish I’ve ever heard. No wonder you’re such a wonderful actor. You completely overreact to everything.”

“I’m serious as a heart attack.”

“He was being respectful, Cabot.”

“Respectful? You can be respectful and still act like you give a crap.”

“Stop it.”

“Where on earth is the pain that two people who are supposedly dating should have when they’re about to be apart?”

“Stop.”

“Answer me. Because from what I just saw, he just gave cold fish a whole new meaning.”

“Stop.”

“Kei, I don’t even think he really cares—”

“He proposed.”

I reeled back like I’d been punched in the gut by a three-hundred-pound club bouncer. And I would know.

“He what?”

“He apologized for the way he’s acted and for trying to tell me what to do and who I should be. He wants what’s best for me. He does.”

I stood quiet and dumbfounded.

“He wants me to commit. He knows all about me, about my past…”

“Your past?”

“And he cares for me anyway. He wants to become engaged to be married sometime later this year.”

“Please tell me you said no.”

“I didn’t say no, but I didn’t say yes. I asked for some time to think and some time to consider my options.”

“What else did you tell him?”

“That I care about him and he seems perfect for me…”

“You’re about to tack a
but
on the end of that sentence, right?”

“But—”

“Thank God,” I whispered. “But what?”

“But I’m certainly not
in love
with him,” she said, starting to pace.

My shoulders relaxed.

“He told me that he would wait. He thinks my feelings will grow now that I know what he wants. He’s expecting an answer in a few months, once I return after the holidays and he returns from his trip.”

“But, Kei…you—”

“I shouldn’t be here, in your room and with the door closed. It’s considered highly inappropriate.”

“Then take a walk with me.”

“Where to?” she asked.

“Anywhere.”

We walked in silence until we reached the stadium where the team held a prayer vigil during my visit. It seemed appropriate. I was praying and praying that Kei wouldn’t ever accept Griffin’s proposal.

“So I’m curious,” I said as she climbed on to the wall to sit down.

“About what?”

“How did he propose?”

“I’m not sharing.”

“Did he get down on one knee?”

“I’m not sharing.”

“Come on. I’ve got to know.”

“Why?”

So I’ll know what I’m up against.
“Just because.”

She hesitated, but eventually answered. “He didn’t get down on one knee.”

“He didn’t?”

“He did not.”

“What a tool.”

“I don’t know what a tool is, but I’m assuming that’s bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh dear,” she muttered.

“He’s a major tool. How did he do it, if he didn’t get down on one knee?”

“We were sitting at the table, and he just came out and asked.”

“He proposed sitting at a table? What a schmuck.”

“He was nervous. I don’t think he really thought it through.”

“Was it romantic?”

“Um…”

I grabbed her foot and gave it a shake. “Be honest.”

“It wasn’t the most romantic moment of my life, no. And I suppose that doesn’t say much for the effort seeing as how nothing romantic has every happened in my life.”

“Did he go all out and offer you an engagement ring and everything?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

She gave an embarrassed laugh and tried to jump off the wall, but I stopped her. “What did it look like?”

“It looked like an engagement ring. What do you mean, what did it look like?”

“Was it a diamond?”

“Yes.”

“Was it big or small?”

“Big or small? It depends on what you think is big and small.”

“Was it bigger than a bread crumb?”

She nodded. “It was bigger than a bread crumb.”

“A lot bigger?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“I’m just curious. I didn’t know if you’d be against getting a nice engagement ring.”

“Why would I be against that?”

“I can see getting you a nice ring and then you turn around and say, ‘You know, I could feed an entire village for a year with the money you spent on this ring.’”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t say that. It would ruin the moment.”

“So you’d accept a big ring?”

“I don’t need a big ring.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I guess it’s up to the man, right? Isn’t he the one who picks it out?”

“Sometimes couples shop for a ring together.”

“Then where’s the surprise?”

I shrugged.

“I’d rather be surprised and not get to pick.”

“Hmm. So Griffin surprised you?”

“Completely. I never thought anyone would ever ask me to marry him.”

I was completely shocked by her admission “What? Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s the truth. I never saw marriage in my future.”

“Why?”

“Long story. It’s not important.”

“It is if it’s something that makes you against marriage—”

“I didn’t say I was
against
marriage. I said I didn’t see it in my future. There’s a difference.”

I climbed on to the wall next to her and waited for her to continue. I hoped she’d just come out and tell me about her past.

“My mind doesn’t work that way,” she finally said.

“What way?”

“It doesn’t go there, to that place of thinking about someone as a possible mate or boyfriend, or whatever you call it in the States. I’ve never really let myself think about anyone like that.”

“Why?”

“I always assumed I wouldn’t ever have that type of life, so I never let myself hope for it and think about it being possible with someone. Like we talked about earlier today. I just never hoped for that.”