On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20) (3 page)

When her roommate entered, Chelsea slid the contract back into the folder. No one could ever find out about her means of paying for school, not her roommates and especially not her family. Even the thought of her family discovering such a thing caused her stomach to lurch, almost as if she were about to be sick. This was the first time she could ever recall being involved in something that she couldn’t be open with her parents about. She had never intentionally hid anything about her life from them. But in her defense, she’d never been in such a predicament and never had her father felt less capable of taking care of her. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel any more inadequate than he already felt. No question about it, her parents could never know.

J
ohn sat at a table awaiting Chelsea’s arrival. It was five minutes before seven, and he wondered if she might be one who was habitually late. That would be a deal breaker since promptness was crucial to him. With that thought, he saw her enter, scan the room until she spotted him, and then to his surprise, wave at him from the hostess stand. He waved back and stood. There was something immensely innocent about the way she waved at him, and because of it, he could only smile as he watched her tentative approach. Waiting for her, he grinned even broader as a rush of what could only be described as excitement filled his chest. He felt unusually enthusiastic, an emotion he hadn’t experienced for at least a decade. When she arrived at his table, he stepped around to slide her chair out for her. His gesture seemed to take her by surprise.

She was wearing an ocean blue satin dress with a short black sweater over it. Because of the material of the dress, it reminded him of a slip or nightgown. Whatever look she was going for, she looked beautiful in it. As she sat, she looked up at him, her large brown eyes framed by long lashes. There was something so childlike about them. Amused by such a thought, he reminded himself that from his perspective, she was indeed a child.

Settling in across from her, he decided that she seemed a bit hurried. “Did you find the place without problem?”

Sliding her napkin into her lap, she assured him, “I did.” She left out the part where she had to call a cab at the last minute and beg the driver to rush through traffic. “This place is lovely. I’ve never been.” Taking a deep breath to slow her rapid heartbeat, she apologized, “I’m so sorry. Usually I’m more prompt.”

“You were perfectly on time.”

When she opened the menu, Chelsea noticed there were no prices listed beside any of the entrees. Usually, that was how she decided what she would eat, the cheapest meal on the menu, often off the kids menu when the server would allow it. It was a rare treat to be able to simply choose a meal based on what sounded best to her rather than what she could afford.

John watched her as she scanned the menu, wondering if she was a salad girl, the kind who only ate salad to stay slender. Biting at her lip as she read, she appeared thoughtful. “What looks good to you?” He asked.

“I think I’ll have the petite filet.”

“Good choice. I may have the larger one.” Behind his own menu, he smiled. Not a salad girl, it seemed. While he’d never considered it before, he found that getting to know Chelsea would be an interesting prospect. Usually, keeping himself at arm’s length, he rarely asked personal questions or took the time to discover the likes and dislikes of a woman. With her, though, he felt safe in asking such questions. After all, he would have to consider her preferences when planning evenings out. He could hardly expect her to suffer through meals that she had no taste for. “Are you a picky eater?”

“No, not at all. There’s not much I won’t eat.” She crinkled her nose and added, “Well, okra, but I’ve seen pigs root around okra.” As soon as she said such a thing, she regretted it. Flushing in her embarrassment, she sputtered, “I am so sorry.”

Leaning in, he asked, “Why are you sorry?” In the candlelight, it was difficult to remember she was so young. With the ease of their conversation so far, she seemed as mature as any older woman he had dated. But in that moment, obviously embarrassed, she again appeared to be nothing more than a child.

“Farm talk is not exactly polite dinner conversation.” Chiding herself, she planned to be much more ladylike in the future.

“Farm talk? Were you raised on a farm?”

“I was, in Oklahoma. We raise sheep.”

“I don’t know if I would have pegged you as a farm girl, but now that I know, I can see it.” That explained the sweetness he saw in her eyes. “I grew up on a ranch in Montana.”

“Montana? I don’t see it. I would have guessed you to be an Ivy League type.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Your suit, your haircut, I don’t know, your attitude maybe. I mean it as a compliment. As for Montana, I’d like to go there someday.”

Accustomed to women agreeing with anything he said, trying to impress him, or whatever they thought that accomplished, he assumed Chelsea’s interest in Montana was slightly exaggerated. Suspect he asked, “What about Montana intrigues you specifically?

Her eyes lit up. “Other than Alaska, I guess it’s the last frontier of America. When I was home last, I watched a show with my dad about a mountain man who lives off the land there. The cinematography was breathtaking. The mountains, the endless trees and rivers, I think it would be spectacular.” She sighed. “I suppose growing up there, it’s just old hat to you.” Shrugging, she added, “I guess I’d like to see more of the world than I’ve seen so far, which isn’t much.”

The sincerity of her answer made him regret trying to catch her in some form of dishonesty. Deciding he would stop being so cynical, he instead focused on getting to know more about her.

For some reason, knowing he was raised on a ranch caused her to feel much more comfortable. From that point on, the conversation flowed easily. Less fearful of being herself, or at least a little less fearful in general, she simply enjoyed her time with John. In trying to get to know her, he at least pretended to be interested in her classes and asked many questions. As serious, bordering on severe, as he seemed in the office, she found him this night to be altogether different. He smiled more, laughed more easily, and said all the right things. With his dry sense of humor, oftentimes she was not sure when he was joking.

Once though, in the middle of a sentence, noticing a ring on his finger, she trailed off, leaned in, and whispered, “Are you married?” If so, she’d never consent to this.

Without conscience thought of it, John reached his right hand over to touch his ring, spinning it around as he’d done countless times over the years. With as much guilt burning in his stomach as in the early years, he replied, “A widower.”

Based on his expression, she could see it was not a topic open for discussion, so she asked no more questions. There was something about the moment, though, that held the key as to why he would choose to “date” in such a way. John was not commitment phobic as she originally suspected, but more likely wounded. Based on this encounter, she could tell he must have loved his wife very much. In knowing that, she found that she appreciated him even more. Also, it gave her a specific way to pray for him.

Once their plates were cleared and the server offered them dessert, John looked at her to see if she was interested. Grinning, she asked, “Will you split something with me?”

“I think I can afford to get you your own dessert.”

“That’s not the problem.” Leaning back, placing her hand on her stomach, she assured him, “I just ate so much; I wouldn’t dare eat a whole dessert.”

“You can take part home.”

“Oh, no,” she insisted, “if I have it in front of me, I’ll eat it all.” Looking at the server who waited patiently while they discussed it, she said, “Cheesecake and two forks.” Looking back at John, she asked, “Do you like cheesecake?”

Nodding, he indicated he did. Something about her made him feel warm inside. Either her youth or honesty, he wasn’t sure which, but something sure did.

As the server turned to go, she reached for his arm to stop him. “If you don’t mind, when you bring the cheesecake, sit it closer to me so I’ll have the advantage.”

Laughing out loud, John leaned in accusing, “You play dirty.”

“I have brothers.”

Chelsea was like a breath of fresh air. For him, the matter was settled. She would be exactly what he needed. At his most cynical, and during a season of life when he found being alone was much more desirable than the companionship of others, a girl like her would likely brighten his outlook. Without question, that evening she had.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out the contract and sat it on the edge of the table. “So, dinner is over. What have you concluded?”

Tucking her hair behind her ear, feeling a bit nervous, she shrugged. “I think we have a deal.”

“And have you come up with a number for your monthly expenses?”

All week she’d crunched the numbers. She included rent, groceries and gas, a little to eat out occasionally, and a small amount for clothing. Hesitantly, she took the piece of paper out of her purse and slid the itemized list over to him, hoping she didn’t seem greedy.

Looking at such a minimal number, two thousand dollars, John slid the paper back across to her. “Here’s a lesson in business. Ask for much more than you really want on the front end. That will allow room for negotiation.” He didn’t intend his comment to be condescending, but rather the first lesson in teaching Chelsea how to conduct herself out in the real world. School was valuable, but actual business experience was what she truly needed.

Sliding the paper back toward him, she countered, “Here’s a lesson in integrity. You told me to tell you what I need, not what I want. This is all I need.”

For a moment he sat silently. Something within him began to stir, something from a lifetime ago. She sounded much like his father. With the pieces coming together, giving him a better view of her character, John determined Chelsea was as fine a young lady as he’d ever met. Finally, after studying her words, he admitted, “You’re right. I did say that. But this is not enough.” Taking out his pen, he marked on the contract and slid the document over to her.

Looking at the number he added caused her to gasp. The amount they agreed on for tuition was typed in already, but in the blank space for monthly expenditures, he filled in five thousand dollars. “This is ridiculous. I’ll never spend that much money each month.”

“Then save what you don’t spend. It doesn’t matter to me.” Handing her the pen, he said, “All you have to do is initial beside the number I’ve added and sign at the bottom.”

Her heart was pounding so hard against her ribs that she was feeling a bit nauseous. Looking into his eyes one final time, she asked, “Are
you
sure?”

“I’m sure. Are
you
?” Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around her forearm and leaned in closer to give one final reminder, “Remember, one year, that’s all. After that, we go our separate ways.”

The look in his eyes was peculiar. In that moment, he went from warm and friendly to cold and determined. For the first time, he seemed nearly unkind. “I understand.” Turning her attention back to the document, it was then she saw his last name for the first time. His name was not on the draft of the contract, and she wondered if that was intentional. Keller, he owned the building, and for that matter, Keller Industries entirely. She assumed him to be a top executive certainly, but never once had she considered that he might be the owner. Shaken by the realization, she hesitated for one moment more, and then finally, she initialed, signed, and added the date, 4/19. At that point, it was official.

An awkward silence settled upon them both until dessert arrived. Something about sharing a dessert, however, ended the silence. As each battled over their fair share of cheesecake, quickly they were laughing and joking again. Feeling triumphant that she was able to get the last bite, she rested her fork on the plate and sighed. “You know what I believe?”

Certain there was nothing serious on her mind, he leaned back in his chair and studied her for a moment. Finally, he asked, “What do you believe?”

Appreciating the moment, maybe even feeling a bit giddy still at the thought of the entire evening, Chelsea proclaimed, “Life is short. We should eat dessert first. That way, we get the whole piece of cheesecake and share the steak.”

What an outlook to have. For just a second, John looked away, fearing she might catch a glimpse of how he envied her youth and fresh way of looking at such a simple aspect of life. Most people, him included, spent their entire lives following rules and standards that were totally unnecessary. “We’ll do that next time,” he assured her.

Playfully, she asked, “Promise?”

“I always keep my word, Chelsea.”

A look, similar to the one before, briefly clouded the kindness in his eyes, and she had a sense his words were meant to be another reminder. Less affected than before, she simply grinned. “Good to know.” Moving in closer, she said, “Okay, give me your best and worst of the day.”

Leaning in as she did and resting his elbows on the table, he rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. “Best would be dinner. Worst was that I had to let someone go today.”