A flush heated Nicole’s cheeks, and she shrugged. “Just this guy I met. We sort of partnered up for the canoeing and hiking, and he was nice enough to help me out with the cactus.” She took another bite.
“And is he cute?
Nicole’s shoulders sank. “It doesn’t matter. He has a fiancée, Sarah. He was just a nice guy. A friend.”
Smacking her on the head, Sarah lamented, “Of all the guys you could have met, you find the one who has a fiancée? What is wrong with you, Nicole?”
Nicole fidgeted with the salad a bit longer before setting it on the coffee table and staring off into space. “I wish I knew.”
“But he was cute, right?” Sarah asked, smirking as she leaned back, her head close to Nicole’s as though they were conspiring.
Nicole laughed. “Hell, yeah.” Once the giggling had stopped, she turned to her best friend. “Besides, he seems like a wicked cool guy friend, if you want to know the truth.” She pulled the scratch paper out. “And I got his email and cell number just to, you know, keep in touch.”
Snatching the paper from Nicole, Sarah unfolded and read it. “Jordan Carroway.” She arched her eyebrows at Nicole. “Why am I picturing a guy that is about 6’2" with dark brown hair and amber eyes?”
“Because you know me too well, that’s why.” She took the paper back and wished the blush would leave her. She didn’t even have to close her eyes to see him--the way his lips turned into a smile, and the sound of his robust laughter. She could remember well how his hand had felt around her ankle. Even the pain of the spines hadn’t overcome that sensation.
Sarah frowned and scrutinized Nicole’s expression before sitting up straighter and pasting a serious expression on her face.
“You know, if you think you have feelings for this guy, you could just be honest. What could it hurt?”
Nicole launched herself from the chair. “What could it hurt? Are you kidding?” She paced the living room, her arms folded across her abdomen. “He’s getting married next month, Sarah. He’s planned a life with somebody, and if he’s happy, he deserves to have that happen.” She gritted her teeth.
“But what if he’s not happy?” she argued, taking another bite of her salad. “What if he’s just been confused into thinking he’s happy and years down the road you both regret not admitting how you really felt?”
Nicole shook her head and pointed accusingly at her friend. “You always do that. You want to believe every guy is a romantic. Just because Jordan gave me his number to call him as a friend, it doesn’t mean anything. Pulling cactus spines out doesn’t mean he likes me. It means he’s considerate. The last thing I need is to say that maybe I have feelings for him and provide everyone lots of conflict and sleepless nights. It’s better if I just keep my mouth shut and move on.”
Nicole stormed out of the room, and Sarah sat there, still holding her fork. She winced at the sound of a bedroom door slamming and shook her head.
“Yeah, well, Nic--if he’s anything like you, I don’t think anybody is going to move on any time soon.” She looked down at her salad and took another bite.
* * *
Jordan sat in the back yard of his rental house and watched the sun slowly sink toward the horizon in a fiery burst of orange and pink clouds. He leaned back in the lounge chair, enjoying the soft breeze stroking his skin, and even though his gaze turned toward the sky, his mind drifted back to yesterday and a weekend PE class that had once seemed trivial.
Of course, yesterday, before he’d met Nicole, everything had focus and he'd known what he wanted, but everything had blurred afterward, and now he wasn’t sure. He’d talked to Alyssa a couple of times since and pretended nothing was wrong.
Had she not been so wrapped up with wedding plans, she might have been able to tell his tone was off, but somehow she'd missed it, and he was grateful. He watched the sky burn itself toward darkness and felt the night inside him already. Part of him wanted to call off the wedding, if for no other reason that one PE class shouldn’t have been able to twist him around so much, but that made him angry because nothing should have been able to derail something he’d worked so hard to build, something he so believed he wanted. He didn’t understand.
Jordan reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the more resilient leaves Nicole had thrown at him. What a strange thing to keep. He couldn’t explain it. He just wanted something physical to remind him of the trip--or at least that's what he told himself about the stupid cactus spines he had in his room.
He looked over at the water-damaged camera sitting on the table beside his chair. Granted, Nicole hadn't been particularly attached to the camera, but he thought that perhaps it might be worth fixing up. Maybe, if he managed that, he could even get it back to her. He didn't really know because he hadn't had the chance to find out what he'd need to get it fixed.
His cell phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket to check the display. Alyssa’s picture popped up, and he let it ring once more before he flipped it open.
“Hey, baby,” he said, brushing his fingers across the leaf. He listened to her babble about her dress fitting and ordering the wedding cake, but deep inside he felt hollow and unsure. Still, he smiled and said, “That’s great. I’m glad everything is going well.”
She mentioned that a few more RSVPs had come in and he pretended to be interested, but he kept thinking back to Nicole and the day before. Whatever else Alyssa might have said blurred, and he was glad to hang up.
He heard footsteps from behind and turned to find his dad standing there. David Carroway was a little shorter than his son, and even though he was only in his mid-fifties, his hair had turned grey, or at least what was left of it. Nonetheless, time had not diminished the intensity of his blue eyes.
“You and those sunsets.” David sank into the other chair.
Jordan shrugged. “You know me, Dad.”
For a moment, the two grew silent. Then Jordan asked, “What brings you here?”
“You missed dinner, and your mom was worried.”
Jordan’s shoulders sank, and he shook his head in frustration. “I can’t believe I forgot about that.”
“You do have a few things on your mind,” David said, “what with the wedding and all. How’s that coming, by the way?”
Jordan tucked the leaf into his pocket along with his cell. “Alyssa’s been planning like mad.” He shook his head, not wanting to even think about the mania that seemed to have lain claim to her once he’d proposed.
“You don’t sound thrilled,” his father said, peering at his son. “Any reason for that?”
Try a million, Jordan thought--and start with Nicole O’Roarke. He shrugged and realized he really did want to talk about this with somebody, and even though he and his father hadn’t always seen eye to eye, he knew enough to respect his dad’s opinion.
“Did you ever worry that when you proposed to Mom you’d made the wrong choice?”
His dad’s gaze shifted from Jordan to the sunset. “Sometimes. I mean, if you take the vows seriously, it’s kind of intimidating making a promise you plan to keep forever.” David’s hand drifted to his wedding ring. “You’ve known Alyssa for years, and before now you haven’t seemed to flinch at a future with her. Is there something going on?”
Jordan couldn’t find the words, then he realized it wasn’t so much about finding those as it was about admitting to them because his dad was right: it wasn’t Alyssa who had changed.
“Son?” David prompted. “Did you meet someone else?”
Oh, great, Jordan thought, knowing that no matter what he said his father would know if he were lying. Parents were pretty intuitive that way. “It’s complicated,” he said. “I mean, no, I haven’t been dating around on Alyssa. I just met a girl who was different, and even though she’s just a friend, it made me wonder if I were making the right decision.” He raked his fingers through his hair, waiting for his father to explode.
David didn’t. He merely sat there for a moment, p
robably thinking about what Jordan had said. “I know you want me to give you some sort of wisdom here—a way of knowing whether marrying Alyssa is right--but, Jordan, there aren’t any guarantees. The only thing that’s going to give you any kind of answer is time.”
Jordan took a deep breath, feeling a little better because, while his father hadn’t given him an easy way out, he had at least listened. Talking about his concerns with someone else had made things more bearable.
“That’s probably not what you wanted me to say, was it?” David asked.
“What else could you say?” Jordan responded, sitting up a little straighter. “I kind of figured that even with all your experience, you didn’t have the answers, either.”
“So what do you want to do?”
Jordan frowned and watched the last of the sun ebb toward the horizon. “I’m not sure it’s about what I want but what I should do. I mean, how can I throw away years with a woman who has been my best friend because I’m having a few doubts?”
“Yet how can you live without knowing?” David countered. “That’s what makes this life difficult. There’s always a choice and they're consequences for that choice.” He rose slowly up and headed back to Jordan’s back door.
“Tell Mom I’m sorry and that I’ll be there next weekend.”
David nodded. “I’ll tell her.” He gave his son a parting wave and stepped inside.
So what are you going to do? Jordan wondered as the last of the light vanished, leaving him with a sudden darkness he couldn’t shake. He reached into his other pocket, pulled out the scrap of paper, and ran his fingers over the dried ink. He knew it wouldn’t help.
Chapter Four
Sunlight poured through the stained glass windows, shading the beige carpet in front of Jordan with rich jewel tones of blue and green. Although the air conditioner was on, the room was hot, especially with this black and white tuxedo. He tugged at the tie, trying to loosen it, but it refused to give.
The door squeaked open, admitting his father into the room where Jordan waited. “So how’s life in a monkey suit?” David asked, standing next to him.
“Hot.” He shook his head and paced the room. When he’d first entered, he had thought the room big, but now, after having paced it repeatedly, it felt as though the walls had been closing in, and now he couldn’t breathe.
“How are you?” David asked, scrutinizing his son, looking for something that would clue him in about the vows he was about to undertake.
“I’m here.” That was the best Jordan could manage. Although things had returned to normal and he knew he still had feelings for Alyssa, memories of Nicole had seemed to linger just beneath the surface, waiting for something to trigger them. He kept thinking they would pass, but he couldn't be sure they would How could anyone ever be sure of anything?
“I can see that.” David looked at his watch. “And right about now, I’m thinking we should probably head to the front of the sanctuary because Alyssa is going to be walking down the aisle to meet you.”
Jordan nodded and looked at the windows, focusing on the Virgin Mary holding Jesus that had so colored the world at his feet. It was beautiful, and given another time and place, he might have found peace in it, but the river running through him was anything but calm. It felt turbulent with an undertow he couldn’t see and violent twists he hadn't--couldn't have --expected. He’d once come close to calling the wedding off, but something wouldn’t let him. He liked to think it was something deeper than just his blind arrogance to make things happen as he’d promised. Perhaps it all went back to the stupid notion that, even if something didn’t feel right, he could make it right through sheer determination.
“Are you ready?” David asked, staring as though he must have felt the dangerous undercurrents in his son. Jordan had never been easy to sway, and the fact that this one encounter was giving him so much difficulty troubled David. Had he believed in omens, he might have said something, but David honestly believed a man made his life. If this were the path Jordan took, surely his son could arrive at the correct destination, right?
“Yeah,” Jordan finally said, looking up at his father as though he’d just broken free of a trance. He followed David down the hall that led to the side entrance of the sanctuary and then slipped inside. Although he tried not to scan the crowd in front of him, he still felt way too many sets of eyes watching him and had to look nonetheless.
In that instant, he felt ashamed and confused, as though he were making all the wrong choices but had been unable to change the course his life had taken. How could meeting one person have so derailed things? He shook his head and focused on the organ music as a distraction. He had promised Alyssa this day, and he was going to do this, one way or another. Besides, doubts were common. He just needed to shake them off and keep going. Everything would work out somehow.
He kept trying to keep his emotions on the level, right up until the organ started playing the processional and the flower girl started coming toward the front of the church. Then he saw one bridesmaid and finally the maid of honor before Alyssa, adorned in a spaghetti-strapped dress, slowly headed down the aisle, accompanied by her father.
In that instant, as he saw her long veil and ornately braided blonde hair, in addition to the beautiful smile he’d known for so long, Jordan stopped allowing his doubts to railroad him. If there were any reason to believe a relationship could work, it was this moment as he stood there, waiting for his best friend to make it down the aisle so they could promise each other the same things they had been giving each other for years.
Perhaps memories of that weekend PE class and Nicole would always be there, but he could move past them, and he wanted to, for Alyssa’s sake. She deserved that, and he would find a way to make it happen.
Jordan kept watching as she drew closer and closer, stealing his breath with her beauty, and when she'd come to the front of the sanctuary and the priest had joined their hands, he smiled, telling her he meant this, all of it. And yet, even as much as he tried not to think about Nicole, he glimpsed the setting sun burning through the sanctuary’s stained glass and wondered if he would always feel this horrible pressure.
He felt himself shaking as the ceremony began, and even though Alyssa probably wore at least two-inch heels, she still only came to his shoulders. He tried to focus on the words the priest spoke, but it all seemed fuzzy and out-of-focus, as though he were seated on a ride that had spun out of control. That was probably the worst fear he had, and even beneath the calm of this day, as gift-wrapped as it seemed, he was smart and intuitive enough to sense something amiss. He just wished he knew how to fix it.
For the last three hours, Nicole had been on the blind date from hell. She wore a black cocktail dress, and they were sitting in this fancy Italian restaurant. The guy in question was a little more jock than she usually liked, but the whole evening, he had been nice enough. He definitely had manners, probably because he was a senior in college and still living at home where his mother could knock some sense into him if necessary.
She couldn’t quite put her finger on where things had gone south. It had probably started when she’d asked him if he enjoyed reading. He didn't. He'd confessed he hated college, and he was only persisting at it because his parents had insisted. Who in their right mind had something against learning? She couldn’t fathom it.
Of course, as they sat near the fountain and drank wine, the truth of the matter finally came to her: whether she wanted to admit it or not, thoughts of Jordan Carroway still flitted through her mind, and while most of the time she could distract herself with other things, a memory of him surfaced every so often when she wasn’t focused on something else. It was as though an impression of his face had been embossed into her mind, and now, no matter what she did, he was always with her.
Granted, she would have liked it better if he hadn’t been engaged and ready to walk down the aisle, but her heart had never been wise, and at least she’d known the score going in. Still, she thought
, taking a sip of the wine, I wonder if he ever thinks of me?
The answer she always came up with was that maybe she made him laugh from time to time but that really there was no reason for him to think of her. She had passed through his life, and he had passed through hers. There was nothing to be done about it, and no matter how hard she wanted to, she could change nothing.
Still, later that evening, as her date kissed her goodnight, Nicole thought of Jordan again and wondered what it would be like to kiss him. The thought actually shocked her because both of them had tried so hard to keep things on a "friends-only" basis.
After the kiss, she’d headed inside, and Sarah was sitting in front of the television with a huge bowl of popcorn watching Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. For a moment, Nicole just stood there, shaking her head then asked, “What is up with that movie?”
Sarah straightened and shook her head, throwing a popcorn kernel. “Nothing is up with this movie. I just happen to like it, Nic. What’s up with you and married guys?”
Gritting her teeth, Nicole strode into the kitchen, calling back, “Not much, apparently.” As she pulled out a soda, Nicole rather wished she’d never told her roommate/best friend about Jordan. It had provided incessant amusement for Sarah, but all it had done for Nicole was remind her of how things hadn’t worked out and how much she wanted them to.
“So how was this date?” Sarah asked, slipping into the kitchen to grab a can of soda from the fridge. “Was he cute?”
Plunking down at the table with her drink, Nicole shook her head. “He was okay, I guess--a jock, which is so not my type.” She reached up and drew out the bobby pins holding her hair in its ornate twist and enjoyed the feel of the strands falling about her shoulders.
“So are you going to call him?” Sarah persisted, sitting in the chair across from Nicole.
“Let’s see. I hate football, and he’s a quarterback. That’s a no.”
Sarah waved dismissively. “No, not Jock Boy. Cactus Geek.”