“I think I know three flowers,” I tell him.
“Which one is your favorite?”
“Daisies.” I nod. “Definitely daisies.”
He shrugs. “That’s all you or I need to know. The rest is just nice to look at, don’t you think? Honestly, Stef can get a little overwhelming with her ‘hydrangea’ this and ‘flowering whatever’ that.”
We walk along this huge tree-lined path, and it’s hard to believe that just a few minutes ago we were in the middle of a mall. It feels like we might be out in an English countryside now. Wide, grassy fields with flowers and a view of a lake stretch out around us.
“This is incredible,” I say, gasping.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He looks over at me and smiles, rubbing his thumb along the back of my hand.
Families and couples litter the areas around us, lounging on the grass, walking along the pathways, watching the lake, and smelling the flowers. It is a beautiful day to be outside.
We come alongside a huge sea of red, pink, and yellow tulips and Tyler stops, looking at the flowers and then reaching for my other hand. “So, Paige, I’ve been waiting to ask you this question for a few weeks,” he starts, blue eyes focused on me, a slight smile on his mouth.
I just look at him. We have barely started dating. If he proposes, I will have to call a cab home. My shoulders are suddenly aching, and there’s this little thought in the back of my brain that shoulder pain can be the first signal of a heart attack.
But really, it wouldn’t be a bad way to go, surrounded by flowers, holding the hands of a really attractive man.
He smiles then, looking all shy and sweet, squeezing my hands. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
A mix of relief and something else soft and sticky floods my chest and I grin at him, squeezing his hands back. “Eh, why not?” I shrug, but I’m smiling so wide my cheekbones are threatening to dislodge.
Tyler laughs. “Glad you aren’t too distraught by the idea.” He lets go of one of my hands, lightly brushing my bangs off my forehead.
My stomach begins twisting.
He leans down and softly kisses my cheek, lightly running his thumbs along the sides of my face.
My chest is so tight, I can’t breathe. Potential heart attack threat is reinstated. He pulls back, smiling so sweetly at me I can’t help but smile back.
Tyler is about the most opposite from Luke that he can be. Blond hair and all.
And I really, really, really like that.
He takes my hand and we start walking again. I squeeze his fingers. “Hey. Thanks for asking.” I’d been wondering.
He nods. “Sorry it took me so long. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment. When Mason asked Stef to be his girlfriend, they were sitting in the airport pickup line, waiting for his roommate to arrive.” He rolls a shoulder. “I just wanted it to be a little nicer than that.”
I grin. “It seemed to work for them.”
“You don’t know Mason. He was going to propose at Golden Corral until I told him that Stephanie might appreciate something a little more upscale.” He rolls his eyes. “There are reasons not to let your college roommate marry your sister.” He adjusts the backpack on his shoulders.
“What’s in the bag?”
There’s the sweet, shy smile again. “I thought we might have a picnic for an early dinner, if that’s okay.”
If that’s okay. Like I am going to say no.
We find a little spot surrounded by trees and flowers overlooking the lake, and Tyler pulls a blanket from the backpack, and tosses me two corners of it to spread over the grass.
We sit on the blanket and Tyler unearths a cooler from the backpack. “Okay, so I wasn’t sure exactly what kind of stuff you liked, so I just kind of brought everything I could think of.” He pulls out crackers, six different kinds of block cheese, summer sausage, grapes, strawberries, and a box of assorted chocolates. He even has a bottle of sparkling cider in there.
I just sit there. “Wow!”
“Let me pray and then we’ll dig in.” He reaches for my hands. “God, thank You for this day with Paige. Please bless this food and bless our conversation. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
We eat half in silence, watching the lake and soaking in the flowers around us and half talking about details around my new job and having to share an office with Rick. “I hope Gary will clean it before I officially start,” I tell Tyler, talking about the church janitor.
“I’m sure he will.”
The arboretum closes at five, and by the time we are headed back to my apartment, I’m stuffed full of cheese and crackers and feeling very sleepy. I lean my head back on the headrest in his truck and look over at Tyler. “Thanks for today.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiles over at me and reaches again for my hand. “I’m glad we spent the day together. Sorry if you had a lot you needed to get done today. I kind of kidnapped you.”
I grin. “This was way better than cleaning my toilet.”
He laughs.
He walks me up to my apartment door about thirty minutes later, and I unlock it and wave him in. “If you don’t have some place to go, you’re welcome to stay. I can make decaf and we can watch a movie or something. If you aren’t completely sick of my company by now, that is.” This is the longest we’ve ever been around each other.
“Eh.” He shrugs. “I’ve made it this far. I think I could make it a little while longer.” He goes into my kitchen. “Want some water?”
“Sure. Thanks, Tyler.” My cell phone buzzes right then and it’s a text from Rick.
ARE YOU COMING WEDNESDAY NIGHT?
I just stare at the text for a minute and finally write him back. WHAT?
YOU NEVER GOT THAT E-MAIL, DID YOU?
NOPE.
PARTY AT THE CHURCH WEDNESDAY NIGHT. IT’S MOST OF THE KIDS’ LAST DAY OF SCHOOL FOR THE SUMMER. THERE’S GOING TO BE A CHURCHWIDE POTLUCK. COMING?
I look over at Tyler. “Did you know about the party on Wednesday?”
“Oh yeah. I think Rick said something about maybe even using the projector and doing a movie night too since a lot of the families in the church are coming.”
“Huh. Are you going?”
“I was planning on it.” He brings two glasses of water in from the kitchen.
I write Rick back. SURE. I’LL BE THERE.
GREAT! SEE YA THEN, NEW HIRELING!
Behold, my new boss.
I climb into bed that night around eleven. Tyler and I ended up watching two movies, making two batches of popcorn, and finishing off the chocolates from the picnic.
He kissed my cheek again as he left, pulling me into a gentle hug.
I pick up my Bible from my bedside table and just look at the cover. New job, new boyfriend, basically new sister.
It is a new me from all external evidence.
I turn to Galatians, my heart tensing with the one issue that still remains unsolved.
Luke.
“If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. Let us not become boastful, challenging one another, envying one another.”
My breath catches in my throat and I think I might cry.
Boastful. Challenging. Envious.
Three words that have described me these last many weeks.
I thought I was better than Luke and Preslee. Thought I was a better Christian, a better person, a better citizen. That I rarely sinned, and when I did, it wasn’t nearly as bad as they had. I am proud. So very proud.
I was difficult for them to be around. I didn’t give them forgiveness, I didn’t listen when they wanted to talk, and I put up walls when they wanted to apologize.
And I envied them. Oh, how I’ve envied their ability to screw up completely and still find happiness.
I close my eyes, tears filling them.
Oh Lord, how I’ve failed.
Maybe I didn’t run away. Maybe I didn’t turn my back on God or my parents or my friends or my morals. Maybe I didn’t hurt feeling
s, smash relationships, decimate hearts. Maybe I was, in a lot of respects, the perfect daughter.
But oh how I have held on to this seedling in my heart. How I planted it, cared for it, and fed it.
For years and years and years. Until at some point, it became such a part of my thoughts and life that I didn’t even recognize it for what it was.
A weed. A thorn. A root of bitterness.
I look into the Bible and see only a mirror reflecting back at me. How much bitterness is in my chest, in my head, on my hands?
Toward Preslee for leaving first. For forcing me to have to be the older, wiser one who cleaned up her mess.
Toward Luke for choosing the world and its lusts over me. For breaking my heart and making me doubt God’s control in my life.
Toward Layla for marrying Peter, who, for all purposes, is a wonderful man who loves my friend. But she is moving into the next stage of life and I am left behind.
Stuck.
Right where I have been.
Tears are coursing down my face, tracing tiny rivers down my cheeks, dropping single file into my lap, watermarking my Bible in small circles of grief.
God, forgive me. Help me remove this bitterness from my heart.
Chapter
22
Monday morning and we have a very conveniently timed staff meeting. I record our standard, “We’re here, but we’re not available” message for the voice mail and then join Candace, Peggy, and Mark in his office.
I look terrible. But I guess that is to be expected. I was up way into the small hours of the morning, praying, reading the Bible, praying more, and crying. I finally ended up just getting out of bed and making myself a pot of decaf, sitting at the kitchen table, writing my thoughts in a journal.
God has forgiven me.
I can feel the lightness from my heart all the way down to my shoes today. So despite my miniscule makeup and yanked-into-a-bun hair, I still feel wonderful. Beautiful.
Loved.
“All right, let’s start.” Mark shuffles his pile of notes around on his desk. “Candace, how are things with the Bakerson family?”
Their birth mother just had their new little daughter after thirty-six hours of labor and an eventual C-section. Candace was at the hospital with the girl the entire time.
“Good,” Candace says, looking even rougher than I do. She rubs her hand through her blonde hair, and tucks it behind her ears. “Tori is still in the hospital but recovering. Baby Gianna is settling in nicely, and obviously, the Bakersons are tired but overjoyed.” There are several state-sanctioned visits that have to be done right after a child is placed in a home. Those are always Peggy and Candace’s favorites.
Mark nods. “Great. They were a cute couple.”
“Still are,” Candace says.
We talk details about a few more families. I make notes about new couples coming in and new birth mother matches and new due dates. Finally Mark looks at me.
“All right. I think we can wrap this up. Am I forgetting anything, Paige?”
Now is the moment I’ve been dreading since I woke up from my frightfully few hours of sleep last night.
“Well, actually,” I say, slowly, clasping my hands in my lap. “I have some news.”
All of them just look at me. Peggy has a knowing look on her face, but Candace’s eyes are wide with worry, and Mark is just looking at his notes with concern, like what I’m about to say is something he overlooked.
I take a deep breath, incredibly nervous. My hands are clammy.
“Y’all know I love working here. I love the clients; I love being a part of something so life changing. And I really do love working with you all.” I look particularly at Peggy and Candace as I say that.
I inhale another deep breath. “Recently, I’ve been offered the opportunity to work with younger girls, and it is going to be working in a setting that will allow me to do actual counseling, which you all know is something I’ve wanted to do here since the beginning.” I gnaw on the inside of my cheek for a couple of seconds, looking down at my lap. “So, I’m going to be turning in my two weeks’ notice today.”
The room is quiet. Mark is just looking at me, shocked. Candace has tears spilling out of her eyes and down her face. Peggy has both hands clasped under her chin, a sad smile on her face.
Mark is the first one to speak. “W-Wow,” he stutters. “I honestly did not see that coming.”
I nod. “I know, sir, and I am so sorry for the surprise. It’s something I’ve been praying about for a while now. And I don’t want you to think I am in any way ungrateful for all the experience and wisdom you have taught me.”
He nods absently, and I can tell that a million thoughts are running through his head.
Candace comes over and pulls me up into a crushing hug, crying and swiping her tears and telling me she is so excited for me but so sad for herself.
Peggy just gives me a gentle squeeze on my shoulders and nods. “I knew you would,” she says quietly and chucks my chin lightly. “You’ll be an amazing intern.”
“Well, uh, I guess with that …” Mark says a minute later. “Um. Meeting adjourned.”
I walk back to the front room, suddenly seeing everything with new eyes. My desk that I never bothered to decorate with pictures or plants or fun pen holders. My chair I hated that I inherited from the last secretary.
That awful, horrible, leviathan of a copy machine.
I pat it as I walk by. “I will not miss you, friend.” Nor the hours I spend every week wrestling it to get it to work.
I sit down, look around, and decide that maybe, somewhere deep in my soul, I always knew this was a temporary job.
The phone rings and I pick it up, cradling it between my shoulder and my ear, reaching for the call logbook. “Thank you for calling Lawman Adoption Agency, this is Paige, how may I help you?”
And the countdown begins.
Wednesday passes in a blur of e-mails, phone calls, and clients hugging me once they hear the news of me leaving. “Oh no, this is terrible!” one hopeful adoptive mom says.
I smile. “I’ll be back to visit,” I say all placating. I’m sure I’ll have thoughts of coming back to visit at least.
I run home after work and change into jeans, a white eyelet top that feels summery, and a pair of ballet flats before heading back out the door to the church. I pull in right as Tyler does across the parking lot.
“Hey,” he says, walking up to my car, pocketing his keys.
“Long time no see.” I climb out, holding the single person’s contribution to church potlucks. Chips and Oreos.
“How was work, T-minus eight days?” He grins. “Oh, don’t let me forget. I’ve got something for you in my car. I’ll give it to you afterward.”
I nod and then shrug an answer to his question. “Long. I know why people dread the two weeks of notice now.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You’ll make it.”
We walk inside and there are already a ton of kids and parents in the fellowship hall, laughing, talking, goofing around on guitars, playing board games. Cheyenne is manning an espresso machine that I’ve never seen before and is serving up all kinds of frothy drinks while Justin stands beside her, refilling cookie trays.
Rick waves me over. “Meet Garinda.” He points to the machine.
Cheyenne groans. “Glinda, Rick. Glinda. As in the popular one from Wicked.”
“I have no knowledge of this,” Rick says.
“It’s a musical retelling of The Wizard of Oz.” She sprays a healthy helping of whipped cream on top of what looks like a caramel macchiato. She nods to me. “I named her that because Glinda is popular, and I feel like this baby will be too.”
“Good idea. I think you’re right,” I say right as Rick goes, “Oh, no, we are not naming my new youth expense after a musical!”
I grin at Rick, have Cheyenne make me a cinnamon latte, and then start socializing. Rick plays a Pixar movie and after it’s over, everyone sta
rts talking again, pulling out card decks and strapping back on the guitars.
It’s an end-of-school fiesta.
I grin at one of the girls I was talking to and happen to glance up at the doorway. And that’s when I see him.
Luke. Standing there, looking forlornly at me. He waves sadly and I nod to the girl. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you in just a minute.” I walk over to Luke. “Are you not going to come inside?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not staying long. I just got off work and I haven’t eaten yet.”
“There’s plenty of food here,” I say, pointing. I look at him, at his dark-chocolate eyes, his ever-perfect hair, his designer clothes, and suddenly feel very compassionate toward him.
Proof, I guess, that God is really doing a work in my stubborn, stubborn heart.
I keep both hands on my cinnamon latte refill that is nearly gone but smile a friendly smile at him. “Stay, Luke. You might make some friends.”
He looks in the room, glances around at the food, the drinks, the games, and then back at me. “Maybe …” he hedges. He clears his throat, eyes tortured. “Paige … I …” He sighs and shakes his head. “Look, could you please just step outside with me? Just for a minute. I just need to … talk and I don’t want to do it here.” He talks quietly, people are coming in and out, kids are bumping into us, jostling my empty cup.
I can see why he wouldn’t want to have a heart-to-heart right now.
I bite my lip and then nod slowly. God, keep me civil, if not forgiving. I toss my paper cup in one of the trash cans. Tyler catches my eye from inside the room and I try to wave sign language at him. I’m going outside! I mouth in his direction. He nods and holds up two fingers at me.
Peace?
I nod confusedly and then follow Luke’s wide back out into the fresh air. The humidity is high but the night is nice. It’s cooled a little bit and a very small breeze is blowing, causing little pieces of my hair to fly up and tickle my face.
Luke stops by my car, standing on the sidewalk, looking at the hood of the car, hands tucked in his pockets, face pensive. I stop a foot or so away, not sure what to do with my hands, so I weave them together so I’ll stop fidgeting.