A Chance for Sunny Skies (11 page)

Maybe I could fit in a few sun salutations when I got to my office. I stepped into the elevator, closed my eyes and tried to do some zen-breathing to start. My fingers pressed into their double Vs and I started to relax, to forgive myself for the not-so-awesome end to that experience.

Then that damn elevator stopped, dinged, and let in my worst nightmare.

"Well, hello!" Ken's voice dripped over me and my peacefulness dissolved.

I set my jaw and looked straight forward. Three more floors. I could do this. Just think of it as an advanced counseling session. Come on, door. Close and let's get this over with.

"What's this?" Ken said, peeking into my bag. "Workout clothes?"

I closed my eyes, willed it to be over soon. After screwing up with Brian I didn't trust myself to remember any of the come-backs Rainy and I had been practicing, so I stayed silent. I was going to ignore him to the best of my ability.

"Working it out." Ken pinched my sides, causing me to jump and let out a bit of a squeal. He leaned in close. "I think you still have a ways to go, Cheeto. Or should I say Family Sized Bag of Cheetos?" His breath coated my cheek, hot and sweet.

I pressed my eyes shut tighter (mainly so I wouldn't cry) and did the same with my lips. I couldn't do this. I heard the elevator door finally begin to close. Before it could fully shut, my eyes flew open and I bolted out of there, through the opening, without a look back.

The walls and halls flew past me as I walked fast and far away from that creep. People stared, I'm sure, but I didn't care, I didn't look up. Finally, in an empty hallway, I stopped. My body collapsed into the wall and I spent a good minute trying to make my lungs work while also trying to make my heart stop working so damn much. I tried to get back to my hard heart, the one that didn't need people, the one that didn't care. But as I started to breathe and think clearly, I remembered that shutting myself off to feelings, to friends, hadn't made things easier either.

I couldn't keep running from Ken. I couldn’t let him ruin the fact that I had lunch with a boy. A boy who was interested in me. Now I needed to get back to my office so I could get back to work and possibly think in detail about how to ask that same boy out on a date, (Ha!) and how it might feel once Hell had officially frozen over.

I smiled to myself, stood up straight (thanking the wall with an appreciative pat), and turned to find my way off this floor. I walked out of my quiet hallway into the bustle of the main news floor. That's right, Ken's floor. Just the thought of cameras and viewers and all of that made goose bumps break out on my arms. I shivered and turned toward the elevators.

The turn brought something into view that I hadn't seen in my hurried cry-dash through there the first time. Something I hadn't been looking for because it had been a while.

The next vision hung on the wall in front of me.

It was the picture of the tree, the next image in my near-death-images reel. The fiery tongue of lightning cracked down from the sky right into the center of the large oak. I gulped and walked forward. It hung on the wall next to a few other pictures of "weather". I suppose I
was
in that section of the news floor.

I'd never had a photograph as one of my visions, though. What could a stupid picture tell me? The fence, yoga bag, the green shoe, Braidy Bags, they'd all been people (or things attached to people) and those people had taught me something or become part of my new life. But this? I squinted and inched closer. Maybe I was supposed to find the photographer. I knelt so I could see the bottom right hand corner, the official artist-signing-place. I bit my lip and tried not to let my Ken-tears from a few moments ago turn into frustrated tears as I stared at the blank corner. No artist signature. No person to connect to it.

I stood up straight and took a measured breath as I prepared to take in everything I could from this picture. What sign could this possibly give me? Was lightning going to strike me next? I almost giggled to myself at the terrible reality of my life when a throat cleared behind me. I jumped and the giggle in my throat came out in a weird laugh-scream combo as I spun around.

Spencer Fredricks stood behind me, hands resting in his pockets. A smile pulled his lips to the side and he jerked his chin up. "What do you think?"

My heart almost stopped. I gulped. Spencer? My boss? He was the only one around and in all of my other visions the first person I saw seemed to be the person the universe had picked for me. Now it was Spencer. My cute boss was connected to one of my visions? Had I been wrong about Brian? Maybe Spencer was supposed to be my boyfriend, not Brian. A small moment of quiet disappointment settled over me. Sure, Spencer was hot (like I said, movie hot and well-off), but Brian was warm and kind and made me feel like the only person in the room, in the world. He liked the same weird comedy shows I liked. He --

"I saw you looking at the picture." He motioned to the lightning shot. "Do you like it?"

"A lot." The words came from my throat in an evil croak, but I nodded emphatically to try to cover it up.

He chuckled. "Would you believe I took it?" His brown eyes locked onto mine.

The tips of my ears heated up. He stood really close to me. When had that happened? I took a deep breath, thought for a second, and nodded again. Then my thoughts started going crazy. First, why was Spencer even on this floor? His office was up up up. Second, what the hell could this be about? He was connected to my vision, but why? Maybe this wasn't about romance, but a job?

"It seems stupid now, but I really thought I would do this for a living at one point." He shook his head.

"Er - what?" I asked.

He pointed at the photograph. "Sorry, meteorology. Gosh, when I was a kid I would just sit outside and stare at the sky."

My stomach clenched in on itself at the mention of weather, meteorology. In my mind, I could hear the torrent of voices singing, "Sunny Skies, weather girl," a childish taunt that still haunted me. Really, universe? I groaned. All of my insecurities, fears, and feelings of not-enough-ness from my childhood came crashing back and I wanted to run away, but this was a vision, so I couldn't. Not again. Instead I said, "That's cool."

"Then I grew up." He raised his eyebrows and let out one last laugh. The laugh sounded sadder than any I'd heard in a long time and my heart hurt just listening to it. He slapped his hand on my shoulder. "Well, better get back at it, huh?" He clicked his tongue and winked perfectly. Just like a movie.

He left. My mouth was still open. My forehead wrinkled in thought. I felt flustered and left behind. What was I supposed to do with that sign? What did that even mean? I managed to make my way back to my office even though my mind felt fuzzy and marshmallowy. The rest of the visions had been pretty clear, at least I had thought they were, but this one just left me stumped.

By the time I left work a few hours later, I felt more confused than ever. I needed to get my mind straight, get this down on paper. I had told Rainy I'd stop by the shop after work because she needed help with inventory, so I headed Gerald in that direction and tried to swat away my fears, doubts, and misunderstandings until I got there.

The tea shop was pretty crowded, plus Jeff was there, trying to make out with Rainy while she took care of customers. Of course, he'd cancel on her whenever it didn't work for his schedule, but go ahead and bother her while she tried to work. I inwardly scoffed and rolled my eyes, but outwardly smiled, waved, and sat in my favorite chair, pulling out my pad of paper and a pen.

I wrote, Lightning Picture at the top, tapping the pen on the paper after. I had to figure out what this damn sign meant. All right, I thought to myself, let's get the first possibility on the page. I bit my lip and wrote, 1. Love. I had to admit, it was the first thing that had come to mind. Maybe Brian wasn't supposed to be in my life romantically. Maybe the green shoe vision was more about me helping him or talking to someone I didn't know.

My shoulders slumped forward and my chin wrinkled into a pout. I didn't want today to be the end with Brian, though. I couldn't help thinking about his hot-and-smart looking glasses, stubbly chin, cute-and-hip laptop bag, and the way he grinned as he handed me my tank top earlier. Sure the vision had brought him into my life, but that sexy didn't-realize-how-sexy smile of his had made me want him to stick around.

I blinked my eyes a few times and looked around the tea shop. Jeff and Rainy were quarreling in the corner now. Uh, oh. Rainy may need another get-over-Jeff-being-an-ass movie watching sesh tonight if they kept it up. Focusing on my list, I scratched my forehead and ran the end of my pen across my lips. I added a 2. and then, even more reluctantly than the first outcome, I wrote, Meteorology next to that number. Just the sound of the word made a shiver run down the backs of my arms and my toes curled uncomfortably. But, like love, it was viable. Rainy had talked about "Name-itis" when we'd first met. Even though I was sick of everyone telling me I should be a weather girl, even though I had fought it running-and-hiding my whole life, I had to put on my big-girl panties and bite the fact that maybe it was what the universe had planned for me.

Ugh. Universe or not, it made my stomach sour just looking at the two options in front of me. There had to be something else the talk with Spencer meant. Grasping at something, anything, I wrote down the most literal meaning I could think of from the vision, 3. Photography. Name-itis wouldn't be involved there, but at least it beefed up my list a little. I thought hard about how my life might head in that direction. I'd never been particularly interested in photography, other than marveling at what other people were able to capture with a lens. There wasn't an ounce of an artsy eye in my body besides that. I thought about the people I knew and cross-checked the job or hobby with them. A pit formed in my stomach as I realized the only person I knew who thought of themselves as a photographer was my mother (having fired all of the ones she’d ever hired for not fully capturing her dogs' beauty). The thought brought my lunch with her the other day back into my mind and made me feel wobbly and unsure all over again.

Frustrated with my lack of a list (or a lack of anything I wanted to be on the list), I watched some of the people around me for a few minutes instead. Rainy must've been in the kitchen because Jeff sulked in a corner chair. Cliff, there as usual, unusually talked to some guy and his normal paperback lay on the table, splayed out, spine up to save his spot. He pointed to a picture on the wall. It was a beautiful black and white snapshot of a woman with dark hair. Her eyes were shut and there was a flowery lace-like shadow pattern falling over her skin. Beautiful and quiet and deep-breath-inducing. When I had asked about it once, Rainy told me that someone had donated it, that the photographer was also the subject (I guess making it the most artsy selfie I'd ever seen), but that had been all she knew. Because of that, it had always seemed mysterious to me, so I listened in.

"It's how I met her in the first place," Cliff told the guy who nodded and leaned forward. "I saw that exact picture in a coffee house down in California. I loved it, so even though I only had a hundred dollars to my name, I paid the thirty-seven bucks the shop asked for it." Cliff smiled, something I had also never seen him do. "Well, actually, I paid fifty in total because I tipped the guy so he'd give me the artist's name. I tracked her down, we fell in love, and we traveled around the country without two dimes between us for years. Donated it, though, since it makes the wife kind of jealous." He laughed, but then memories seemed to stop him. He sighed as his eyes locked onto the picture. "The romance of my life."

At that point, my ears stopped listening to Cliff because my brain yelled something fierce. Holy crap! A story about falling in love with someone because of a photograph. On the same day that I saw Spencer's photo. Was this a sign from the universe or what? I exhaled and the breath sat heavy in front of me. My list stared back at me. I shook my head and circled the first option. It looked like love was it.

At that moment, another relationship got my attention more than my impending one with my cute boss. Rainy had returned and she and Jeff were back at it in the corner (fighting still, that is, not making out). My friend's eyes flicked around the shop as they crowded with tears and then they settled on me. Her eyes were wide and wet and full of help-me wildness. I narrowed mine back at her, pointed, and mouthed the word "gold". I finished it off with a grim nod. She wiped her nose, pressed her lips together, and nodded back.

When she'd been over the other day movie-therapy-ing with me, I'd told her she needed to dump the loser. Sure, he was hot, tan, and had abs like a romance novel model, but he treated her like crap. "You deserve to be treated like your last name," I'd told her. It had felt good to help Rainy out for a change. She spent so much time saving my weird-butt, that I was beginning to wonder why she was even friends with me.

I saw Rainy turn toward Jeff and tell him something quietly. His tan face went slack and he watched her like he didn't think she was serious.

"Are you serious?" His voice carried across the room. My shoulders scrunched up and I bit my lip hard as Rainy whispered something else to him. At that, he rolled his eyes and stomped out of the tea room. Cliff, who must've still been going on about his photograph lady, stopped what he was saying and started clapping as Jeff left, gave Rainy a nod, and went back to his story.

My friend walked over, dragging her feet and probably every fight they'd ever had behind her. Her shoulders hung forward. She looked like she was trying to impersonate Igor or some other hunch-backed person. She stuck her bottom lip out and sighed, her eyes still a bit red and moist. I scooted to the left in the oversized green chair and patted the opening next to me.

Rainy plopped down and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder just as she'd done for me so many times when my feet were dragging and my back hunched in defeat. I squeezed her close to me and said, "You did the right thing. He's an ass."

She nodded and sniffled.

"Plus, now you're single like me and we can watch episodes of Monty Python's Flying Circus every night." I gave her a big smile.

Her mouth pulled up at the corners reluctantly and she shook her fist slowly. "What have I done?" she asked, through a chuckle. Then she stopped and looked at me. "Wait. You're not going to be single for long, though. You're going to ask Brian out, right?"

I tipped my head to the side and squinted one eye. "Weeeeeell." The more I thought about saying it out loud, saying that Brian wasn't the one I was supposed to go out with, the more my heart ached.

Rainy sat up straighter. "This isn't just because of the seedy teeth and the underwear, is it?"

I shook my head. "I saw the next sign today."

Rainy took in a deep breath.

"And it seems pretty clear that I'm supposed to ask this new guy out."

"Oh..." Rainy put her hands in her lap and looked down. I wanted to tell her that I knew, that I felt disappointed, too. But this was the universe. It knew what it was doing and I doubt it wanted me to juggle two dudes at the same time.

"I think maybe he was just to get me out there, talking to more people." I messed with a strand of my hair, curling it around my finger.

Rainy pointed to my pad of paper. "So who's the new guy?"

I sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly. "My boss."

I wiped my hands on my jeans one last time and approached Spencer's secretary at her desk.

"Is Mr. Frederick's in?" I asked. My fingers shook slightly and I clenched them into fists to calm them. All morning, all I could think about, all I could picture, was Brian's sweet smiling face. It flashed through my mind again as she got up from her desk, but I pushed it aside. This was my destiny. I needed to trust the universe. I couldn't go back. I couldn't be Braidy Bags.

The secretary nodded and led me to Spencer's office, knocking loudly. I'm not sure if it was my nerves or what, but the knock sounded a little too much like the duh-duh-duuuhn sound in movies when bad things are about to happen.

"Come in." Spencer's words were muffled.