Feelin' the Vibe (11 page)

She entered the café and I finally opened my car door. By the time I got in, she was standing in line to order. I walked up
behind her, “Clark Anderson,” I said, almost as if I still didn’t believe it.

She spun around in what seemed like slow motion. Her expression was welcoming. She was peaceful, pleasant. Her smile was the
same, but she seemed much calmer than I recalled. Almost like she was singing, her head tilted as she said, “Hey, Devin.”

Her greeting gave me the okay to wrap her in my arms. We held each other, more like we both reached out for something and
I apologized for everything. She was next up in line, but the cashier didn’t interrupt us. Maybe she felt the energy. Finally,
we pulled apart and looked at each other. After I fell in love with Taylor, I didn’t expect my reunion with Clark to be so
emotional. Her eyes watered and I hoped mine didn’t. I smiled at the cashier and pointed. “I think she’s waiting for you.”

She turned around and pulled her Chanel wallet from her purse. After she ordered her drink, she looked at me. “Do you want
anything?”

“Yeah.” She raised her eyebrow. I said, “I want you to put your wallet away and find a table.”

“Not a problem,” she said, and walked away. I ordered a small coffee just for the hell of it. I stood at the counter and waited
for the drinks. I needed to gather my thoughts. What did I really want to say? It had been so long. Was there really anything
appropriate to say? The last time we were eye to eye, I was moments away from making the mistake of my life: marrying Jennifer.

Just before I’d walked into the chapel, Clark had confronted me. She’d stared into my eyes and demanded that I tell her I
didn’t love her anymore, and like a fool, I did.

When our drinks were up, I walked over to where she sat. Her deep beige skin and golden highlights complemented the cozy chocolate
leather booth. It was almost unreal, like I was looking at a picture. I set her drink on the table and pulled off my black
coat, hanging it on the brass hook on the pole next to the booth. It was obvious that she didn’t know why she’d come or what
she expected from this or what to say. And because I was the coward nine years ago and I was the man now, it was up to me
to begin this uncomfortable meeting.

“Clark.” Her name rolled off my tongue like I never stopped saying it. “Over the last nine years, I have wanted to tell you
how much I regretted hurting you.”

“Devin, you were young. I was young. You did what you thought you had to do.” She chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong—it took me
a long time to get over it. I cried about you. I couldn’t get past it. Even when I met my husband, I spent the first several
months talking about you, trying to understand where we went wrong. But he was patient, and eventually I let it go.”

“Everything was so abrupt, so immature, but if it helps, it haunted me for a long time, too.”

“It doesn’t help.” She laughed. “Maybe some years ago, it would have made me feel better, but not now. I know you didn’t know
what you were doing. I know there were so many other things influencing your decision. I made mistakes, too. It wasn’t just
you.”

As much as I wanted her to share the blame, I couldn’t. I nodded. “I’m sure, but I walked away without giving you closure,
and I hurt myself just as much.”

“Devin, it’s fine. I forgive. I do.”

I reached across the table and touched her hand. She didn’t tense up. Instead, she looked into my eyes and I said, “I’m glad
you forgive me.”

She took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. My eyes widened. “You have something you want to tell me?”

She nodded and hung her head. I thought this was my meeting. I thought I was the only one that needed to say something, but
the long delay before she spoke disturbed me. Her long eyelashes blinked rapidly and my chest tightened. Finally, she said,
“I’ve held on to something, too. Something I thought was best not to tell you.” She inhaled all the air between us and exhaled
dramatically. “My husband and I have been trying to have a baby and it seems like God doesn’t want me to.”

I was confused. Did she want me to help her get pregnant? My forehead wrinkled. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I was pregnant before and I chose not to keep the baby. I…”

She paused and the look in her eyes struck me. A weird discomfort shot through me. We were eye to eye and I knew what she
was about to say. My fingers choked the coffee cup, because I didn’t want to believe it. My breathing increased and finally
I said, “Clark, was it my baby?”

Her eyelids lowered, and when she looked up her eyes were full. She nodded. “I was pregnant when you went to law school.”

She had accepted my apology so easily. How could I feel so much contempt toward her at that moment? My mouth hung open. I
wanted to say I understood, but I didn’t.

“I just didn’t want to hinder you. So, I decided not to tell you. I just got an abortion.”

“You didn’t think I deserved to know.”

“I wanted the best for you, and I believed with all my heart it was the right decision.” She sniffed. “That is until it became
clear to me that I will probably never have kids. God gave me that chance and I abused it.” She spoke slower and slower. Her
expression became perplexed. Water flooded her intense eyes. “I abused it because I didn’t want you to stop loving me and
you did anyway.”

She placed her hand over her face. I stood up and scooted in the booth beside her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders.

“God isn’t holding that against you.”

“But He has to be. My husband, he doesn’t understand. He wants us to have our own kids and I can’t give that to him. I feel
so inadequate.”

I wiped her face and kissed her cheek, then held her head to my chest, because I wanted to take all her pain away. I wanted
to rewind time back to when she made that decision. Her life, our lives could have been different if she had just told me.

A
piece of me was embarrassed, but Devin was the only person I could break down with. He’d always been that person. He stroked
my hair. “Clark, I’m sorry you made that decision, but don’t blame yourself. If I’d been a better man, you probably wouldn’t
have felt the need to make that decision alone.”

He held me so tight it felt like he was choking me. I felt safe and forgiven. It was as if God presented me with the opportunity
to get this secret off my chest. I wiped my tears and tried to gain my composure. I took a deep breath, forcing a smile.

“There, now we put it all on the table.”

He offered a sympathetic look. “You feel better?”

“I feel free.”

“I wish this conversation could have happened several years ago.”

“I wasn’t ready then, Devin. I was still in a lot of pain and I was bitter, and I hated that you hurt me.”

He pulled me to him. “Everything happens when it’s supposed to happen, huh?” I nodded. He paused, gazed away for a minute.
“I just wish time would have been on our side.” I shrugged. He continued, “Clark, I missed you so much over the years. I compared
every woman I met to you.”

I wanted nothing more than to run away with him and forget about all the stress I was going through at home. It didn’t feel
like we’d been apart for nine years; it felt more like nine days. All my buried emotions surfaced as I stared deeply in his
eyes.

“Devin, why did you marry Jennifer? Why did you hurt me like that?”

“I don’t know, but I never got over you. I never got over us. I grew bitter with myself for being so stupid.”

“Why did you two break up?”

He shook his head and smiled uncomfortably. “You know she actually
tried
to get pregnant. She pretty much trapped me—and you couldn’t have paid me to believe it, but I heard it with my own ears.”

“How?”

“She called into a radio station admitting she’d poked holes in my condoms when we first met. I knew her voice. I knew it
was her.”

My mouth hung open, partially because I couldn’t believe it, but more so, because I envied her. How could she just plan to
trap someone and be successful—and here I was standing on my head, injecting fertility drugs into my system, and I
couldn’t
get pregnant? I didn’t even want to discuss her anymore.

“That’s sad. I wish I could say I’m sorry that happened to you, but—“

“I know. You don’t have to say anything. I live with the pain every day. You can’t imagine how many times I wonder how different
my life would be if we stayed together.”

“So when did you get over it?”

“I guess I never got over it. I just coped.”

“But you just got married again.”

“Men never really stop loving their first choice. You know?” He hung his head. “My wife, Taylor, she is a helluva second choice,
but she’s not you.”

I cringed when he said her name. It came out so endearingly it made me slightly sad. There was a time when I felt like I couldn’t
ask for a better second choice than Kenneth, but he had grown into an all-out asshole and I wasn’t sure if he should even
be a choice at all. I nodded. “I do understand.”

Minutes passed before either of us spoke. It was too late to do anything about our revelations. All we could do was accept
the notion you don’t always get to spend forever with your soul mate.

Finally, Devin spoke. “Clark, what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know.”

“I wish I could tell you that I got what I came for. I wish I could say you’ll never hear from me again, but honestly, Clark…”
He shook his head, almost as if he was ashamed for feeling what he felt. “I just want to go somewhere with you and spend the
day and talk, like we used to do.”

“We both have so much to lose.”

“We do. I know we do, but we both have so much that we’ve carried over the years that I think we need to get off of our chests.”

“Devin?” I knew what he felt, but it bothered me. It was as if he still let his emotions make decisions for him. “Your spontaneity
scares me, always has. I mean, people don’t change, but you’ve hurt a lot of people just doing what you felt at the moment.”

“I’m not spontaneous. I’m passionate. But that’s what makes me who I am.”

I knew I needed to leave. One more second there, I would have agreed to meet him again. But I wasn’t young and dumb anymore.
People depended on me, and I couldn’t just do what felt good. I had to be rational.

I grabbed my scarf and began slowly wrapping it around my neck. He reluctantly stood. Loneliness filled his eyes. Something
was absent in him and I wondered why. He leaned in to hug me and the embraced lingered, and lingered. We peeled apart. I looked
in his eyes. “It’s too late.”

He nodded cautiously and watched me leave. Through the window, I saw him sink back into the booth. As I headed to my car,
I debated the purpose of the emotionally charged meeting. I don’t know what I expected to feel, but I didn’t feel better.
The mere fact that I wanted more from him made me feel unfaithful. I drove home and couldn’t take my mind off of him, off
of us.

O
nce I got in my car, I sat there for moments before driving off the lot. I ran into traffic on the ride home, but I wasn’t
even bothered by it. I kept replaying our relationship in my mind. I thought about our reunion and wondered if I said everything
I could have said or if she’d felt any closure, because it still felt like an open sore for me. Finally, I pulled into my
garage and snapped out of the trance.

I fumbled around before getting out of my car, because I didn’t want to carry my thoughts into the house with me. After five
minutes or so, I decided to creep into the house. I kicked off my shoes before entering the kitchen. My socks glided on the
engineered wood floors, and the smell of spaghetti surprised me. It was Taylor’s one other dish, and she only cooked when
it was time to celebrate. Smooth music played through the home intercom system. Damn, I almost forgot Taylor and I had come
to some sort of agreement hours earlier. She waltzed down the back stairwell leading to the kitchen, wearing Victoria’s Secret
PINK gray sweats and a pink camisole. The longer side of her hair was swooped behind her ear and her face looked fresh and
clear, like she’d just had a facial.