I quickly text him, and we arrange to meet at our favorite seaside seafood restaurant. I work the rest of the day, humming to the point that I’m certain Malia is annoyed, except she keeps giving me this knowing look. Without saying a word, we seem to be on the same ecstatic page.
After work I rush home to shower and get ready. I know exactly which shirt to wear—a Chanel lightweight sweater that Blake got me for one of my birthdays. It’s a favorite and easy to accessorize. I decide to borrow a few bangles that Brooklyn has left behind. The woman has more jewelry than the queen of England. I blow-dry my hair straight and take the time to apply my makeup. I step back from the mirror and take me in.
This is the night that is going to change my life. My dreams are coming true. I swipe my lips with red and then go into my bedroom. It’s not quite time to leave yet. Normally I would be journaling, but what’s strange is that I’m not sure how to journal real life. All I’ve put down in those heaps of paper are dreams and fantasies. Now that it’s all coming true, what am I to write? Besides, I don’t have possession of my purple pen.
And I’m better for it.
I decide this would be an appropriate time to pray. On my knees.
Haven’t done that since I was a kid. I remember praying like this as a child, with my mom next to me, holding my hand. I remember not always knowing what to say. It seemed greedy to just ask for toys, but that’s all I wanted. Mom would remind me of hurting people in the world, and I would try my best to care about them.
Now it seems a little hard to pray too. It’s hard to find the right words to the One who has given you your dream. But I bow my head anyway. “God, I want to thank You. You’re amazing, and I’m sorry I’ve doubted Your love for me. You’re kind and You really care about me. I’m so—”
“Thank God!”
I jump to my feet, startled. Standing there in my doorway is Brooklyn, holding her suitcases.
She shakes her head. “At least this time you’re not talking to yourself.” She drops her suitcases. “Guess your prayers have been answered. Here I am.”
I rush to her. “You’re home?”
“I’m home.”
I hug her. She pats me on the back and tries her best to enjoy it. When I release her, she’s staring at my wrist. “Are those my bangles?”
“Um…yes.”
She steps back and gives me a once-over. “Wow. You really pulled that outfit together well. The bangles are perfect. And am I seeing things or are you wearing red?”
I pucker my lips. “Yep.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“I’ll give you details later. You’ll be around? I gotta go.”
“I’ll be here, eating trans-fat food and watching something with Julia Roberts.”
I give her one more hug and then rush out of the house and into my car. I check my watch. I do
not
want to be late!
I’m flying down the boulevard when I see the flashing lights behind me. “No. Oh man. No! God, help!”
But He doesn’t appear. I pull to the shoulder and watch in my driver’s side mirror as the officer gets out of his car.
Garrety. Of course.
I roll down my window and try to look peaceful and normal. “Hello, Officer.”
“Well, hello there. Fancy meeting you here.”
“I’m sorry. I know I was speeding, but I—”
“Were you? Because I pulled you over for failing to yield.”
“I, uh…”
“I’m just messing with you. You were speeding.”
“Oh.” I try a smile and hand over my driver’s license and registration.
He is checking it over. “So, how is life going, Ms. Stone?”
“Wonderful. Couldn’t be better.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“I’m at this very moment driving to the destiny that awaits me.”
“Oh boy. I might’ve let you off the hook if you’d just said you were running late for a meeting.”
“Officer, you don’t understand. I’ve been through a lot, you know? And finally, tonight, it’s all coming together for me. I’m finding my ‘finally’”
“You do look much happier. And, um, saner.”
“Please, can you let me off the hook? Let me go so I’m not late?” I sort of lean out the window and express desperation.
“How do you know?” he asks.
“Know what?”
“That this is the thing that you’ve been waiting for?”
“All the signs are pointing to it, and I’m learning to read the signs.”
“Except speed-limit signs.”
“Uh, yes. Except those.”
He hands me back my license and registration. “Well, I don’t know what kind of destiny you’re headed to, but let’s make sure you get there alive, all right? Drive carefully.”
“Yes sir. I sure will, sir. Thank you.”
I roll up the window and in my enthusiasm accidentally peel out, but I slow it down and drive the speed limit all the rest of the way there.
I’m only five minutes late, but I’m trembling all over with anticipation, hoping and praying he is still here.
I walk in and immediately spot him, already seated at a booth. A cozy booth, actually. The kind that is a little half circle and no matter what, you have to sit next to the person.
“You’re late.” He smiles.
I sidle up next to him. “Sorry. Little run-in with the law.”
“Again?”
“I don’t know, I seem to attract trouble these days.”
“Speaking of attract, you look outstanding. Really. I can’t remember ever seeing you this…dressed up.”
I shrug coyly. “What can I say? I’m excited.”
“Wait! Did my mother tell you? I told her I wanted to.”
“I knew she knew! She wouldn’t say anything, but she kept giving me these looks all day.”
Blake settles comfortably into his seat. “I never thought it would happen, you know?”
“Believe me, Blake, I do know.”
He is looking at me as he sips his drink. “I didn’t think you were going to be this excited, to tell you the truth.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting forever.”
Something strange flickers across his face. I can’t imagine it, but maybe the guy didn’t have a clue all these years that I had the biggest crush on him.
“Why?” he asks.
“What?”
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous. It’s just…” He stares into his drink. Poor guy, his nerves are shot. I take his hand.
“Blake, I didn’t think this would ever happen either. You’re my best friend. And there were times that I questioned whether or not this would be the right thing, but I think we’ve proven to each other how much we care, and we have this amazing foundation to build off, and—”
“Um, Jess, I—”
“Can you believe we won’t need to IM late at night anymore because you’ll, like, be there. Right there. Right there with me and—”
His hand retreats. “Ah, Jessie…I…”
“What?” I shake my head. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have let you do this. I’m the queen of proposals and I totally just screwed this up.”
I smile at him, but the guy is going pale, like he’s just been whipped into buttermilk. “Blake, it’s okay. It’s me. We’re best friends. I mean, there’s not too much we can embarrass ourselves with, you know?” I chuckle. He tries very hard to smile, but it doesn’t come through.
I look into his eyes, searching for that excitement that was there just moments ago. I panic a little because I feel like I’m bungling his moment. But what I’m seeing in his eyes is not fear or hesitation. It’s raw pain.
“Blake, what’s the—”
“Jessie, I wanted to see you tonight to tell you I met someone.”
I suddenly can’t breathe. “You met someone?”
He nods, watching me carefully, sadly. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you in person because you are my best friend and you mean so much to me. Her name is Denise, and I think you two would really hit it off—”
“What are you talking about? I saw you!”
“What—”
“I saw you. Today. At the house.
Our
house! Talking to Him. Didn’t He tell you? Didn’t He?”
“What are you talking about, Jessie? What house?”
“With, with, with…our porch swing.”
Blake’s eyes are wide, searching. “Jess, I didn’t build that for me. It belongs to somebody else. I’m just doing some work for—”
Suddenly a pin-thin, gorgeous brunette approaches. I’m expecting her to ask what I want to drink, but she slides into the booth, on the other side, next to Blake, who says to her, “Um, listen, maybe you should…could you just wait for a sec to—”
I stare at both of them and then shove myself out of the booth. “I gotta go.” I bolt, and I mean in a full run, out of the restaurant. I feel like I’m going to puke. Holding my stomach, I manage to get to my car. I slam it into reverse, not even looking behind me, and peel out of the parking lot. I catch a glimpse of Blake, standing at the door of the restaurant.
I punch my hand into my dashboard and scream at the top of my lungs.
If I could bury myself in sand, I would. Instead, I stomp across it, kicking it as I go, punching the air. But nothing I do is taking away what just happened. I hardly got a glimpse of the woman that Blake has fallen in love with, but I got enough of one.
Brunette, for one thing.
Brunette.
The guy doesn’t even like brunettes…right? Otherwise, what’s wrong with me? Her hair was long and straight, layered around her face. Wide brown eyes, perfect olive skin, a grin that evokes instant jealousy.
How could I have been so stupid? “I am such an idiot!” I scream to the water. “To think Someone out there was writing me a love story! Who does that?”
“One with faith.”
I don’t even turn around. I don’t want to see Him. “Shut up! Just
shut up!
You are not real. You are some whacked-out figment of my
whacked-out imagination that I made up because I’m whacked out.” I wipe my eyes. “Because I’m pathetic.”
“You are not.”
“I have to write imaginary guys into my life. Dance with them alone on my birthday while everyone around me can see me for what I am. A freak. A freak and never anybody’s choice.” I turn around, walking backward, and look at Him. “Never anybody’s choice but Yours. So stay away from me. I don’t want to be Your choice anymore. I want You to leave me alone.”
“Jessie, what happened with Blake…I know, it was upsetting. But you are not a freak.”
“Oh? Then what am I? No, don’t answer that. Get away from me.” I turn back around and march forward.
“I wish you could see yourself through My eyes.”
“I think that’s the problem. Go away.”
“Did you know your name means ‘God sees’?”
“No kidding. I thought it meant ‘Old Maid.’”
“I whispered your name in your mother’s ear when you were born.”
I stop and whip around to face Him. “Fantastic. Is that supposed to give me some kind of hope? God sees? No, God doesn’t see. Because if God sees, He would’ve seen a lonely and scared little girl who has lived all of her adult life alone and who just wants somebody—”
He’s got an expression on His face that I haven’t seen before. He actually looks like He wants to cry.
I point a finger at Him. “You are no more real than that boy who used to follow me around when I was nine. I can’t believe You anymore.”
“Why?” His tone is calm and self-assured, which makes me want to scream.
“Why? Do You know how much it hurts to be standing here with the one person who has the power to fix this—and everything that’s wrong in my life—but He won’t? He just keeps alluding to the idea that something is out there waiting for me, but there’s not! You, of all the great loves in my life, have led me on worse than anyone.”
God steps forward, gently, His eyes intense. “I need you to do something.”
“No,” I say. “No! I’m not doing anything for You anymore. Everything You ask me to do leads me to nothing. Writing my initials in the sand? Yeah, that was my favorite. Very mysterious. Made me believe that it was possible, that something good was possible for me. But it all leads to my heart getting ripped out.” I stare hard at Him. “Whatever You have in mind for me, I don’t want it.”
“It’s not just yourself you’d be hurting, Jessie, if you give this up. You have someone else to consider. Someone who’s been waiting for you. Just you.”
I laugh harshly. “Oh,
come on.
We’re still there? At the one-true-love thing? Why should I believe a word You say? Every day starts the same and ends the same. I need to just accept it, stop hoping for something more. It’s not worth all this pain.”
His eyes shimmer with tears. “Love is the one thing worth pain.”
I stand there for a moment, my heart pounding, out of breath, the hairs on my body standing at attention. I stare at Him, and for a brief moment my heart starts to soften; I want to be held by Him. The feeling flees quickly though. I make it flee. Anger returns. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and hit speed dial, never taking my eyes off Him.
“Hello?”
“Brooklyn, it’s me. Meet me at that karaoke bar. I want to see how your half lives.”
“Jess? What? Jessie—”
I snap the phone closed and walk away from Him toward my car.
For once, He doesn’t follow me.
“Woo hoo!” I pump my arm up and down and cheer the fat lady on. “It ain’t over till the fat lady sings!” I holler. Brooklyn grabs my sleeve and yanks me back onto the bar stool.
“Shut up. What are you doing?”
“Can’t a girl have—” I glance up and see the bartender. “Another one! Pour away, kind sir!”
The bartender glances at Brooklyn, then pours me another shot. I swallow it in one gulp. It burns all the way down my throat. At least I think it does. I’m not really feeling pain right now.
What I am feeling is the urge to dance. I bounce around on my bar stool. Yeah, karaoke is way cooler than hitting the dance floor with an imaginary partner.
Brooklyn doesn’t seem to be having the fun I am. “Come on,” I yell over the music. “Why aren’t you drinking? Isn’t this what you do? Drink, dance, sing? That should be a Coke commercial or something.”
“Maybe we should go home.”
“Home? Come on! We’re just getting started here.” I signal for the bartender as I talk to Brooklyn. “So, the test drive on the new guy didn’t work, huh?”
“Jessie, what is your problem?”
“Can’t a girl have some fun? I think those were your exact words a year ago at that beach party.” My cell phone vibrates a few inches across the bar. “Maybe I shouldn’t answer that.”