The Last Summer, page 17
“Why not?” Everett asked. He stood up and flipped the switch to turn on the gas fireplace in the corner of the room. Blue flames whooshed to life. The large windows in his small apartment revealed scattered city lights in the night.
“Because I want what every girl wants—the right guy to fall madly in love with her and pursue her until she falls in his arms,” I said, unable to keep from sounding exasperated. “I don’t want some guy to take years to decide if he likes me or not. I want fireworks and attraction and love and shared values and…” My words trailed off into silence. I had just described this entire weekend spent with him.
Everett gave me a half smile. “So, I’m hoping you feel some of that with me?” He looked a bit shy. I smiled back.
“Absolutely.”
We were both quiet for a moment; I could hear the wind blowing outside. Warmth from the fire slowly heated the room and added ambiance.
“You said you couldn’t tell Luke how you felt—before. Why?”
“I just couldn’t. I knew he was dating Debra. It was pointless to tell him I’d had a crush on him for years when he’d already chosen someone else. That would have been humiliating for me and awkward for him.”
“Years?” Everett echoed in surprise. I set aside my coffee mug too.
“It doesn’t matter now. I’ve let that go.”
“Have you?”
“You know I have. I’m here, Everett.”
“You are and I’m glad. But if Luke wasn’t with Debra—or if he broke up with her tomorrow and told you he loved you—what would you do?” Everett studied me.
I shifted on the sofa. “That’s a crazy question and never going to happen. How could I know what I’d do?” I tried to keep from sounding prickly, but his question annoyed me.
He looked thoughtful—and a little concerned. “I need you to think about it.”
“Think about hypothetical situations that will never happen? Everett, what’s the point of that?” My voice rose, and I unfurled my feet and stood up, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water and take a breath, hoping that would calm my jumpy nerves.
“Where is this coming from?” I asked as I walked back to the sofa. “You don’t have to be worried about Luke. He’s with Debra. You’re wrong about him. He doesn’t have feelings for me—we used to be friends, now we’re barely that.” I hoped he didn’t notice the wobble in my voice.
“I’m not worried about him. Well, not entirely,” Everett said, and my stomach tightened.
“I want to know you wouldn’t choose him, given the choice. I want to know that what’s starting here between us—that this is what you want.”
“Oh.” It was all I could muster.
“I have an idea.” Everett moved closer, lightening his tone to, no doubt, lighten the cloud that had come over us. He placed one hand on my knee. “Let’s keep talking—doing what we’ve been doing. And when I come to Houston for the wedding, maybe you can answer me then. You’ll have had time to really examine your feelings, and you’ll know what you want.”
“Okay,” I said in a small voice. “And you’ll know what you want too.”
Everett squeezed my knee and just stared at me. My defensiveness dissipated, leaving me vulnerable from the emotional upheaval. Those brown eyes of Everett’s took me to the edge of feeling unhinged.
“I’m pretty sure I already know what I want,” he finally said. Then he kissed me. After the initial surprise of his lips on mine again, I returned the kiss with good measure, hoping to disperse any doubts from his mind.
And mine.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jason picked me up from the airport Monday afternoon.
I stood on the curb. “Where’s Lily?”
A grin spread on his face. “I volunteered. I get to be the first one to interrogate you. Believe me, the girls were fighting over the honor.” Jason tossed my suitcase in the backseat, and I slid into the passenger seat.
“So?” he said as we left the airport.
“So,” I answered.
“Are you in love?” I closed my eyes, and my left hand shot out and punched his shoulder.
“Ow!” He laughed.
“What’s up with you and Mia?” I opened my eyes again. Jason shrugged.
“You know, we’re dating. It’s casual right now. She’s cool.” He switched lanes. “Did you have a good time at least? In North Carolina?”
“Yeah, I did. I had a great time.”
“That’s good, right?”
“It’s good,” I confirmed.
“What’s your week look like?” Jason asked me, seemingly moving on from the topic of my trip. Lily, Addison, and Debra would never have given up so easily.
“Helping Lily plan Addison’s lingerie shower.”
He squirmed. “Please don’t tell me those things, Sara.”
I laughed. “Sorry. Forget I said that.”
“I’ll try,” he said uncomfortably. “How long till the wedding?”
I mentally counted. “Like two months? Gosh! That feels so soon.” Anxiety washed over me.
“Two months is a long time.”
“Not in the world of weddings. Have you nailed down the menu?”
“Pretty much,” he said, unconcerned.
“Are you bringing Mia to the wedding?”
“It’s two months away. How can I know yet?”
“Everett asked me.”
“Well, you and Everett might be a little more serious than me and Mia. You flew to North Carolina to see him recently, remember? I don’t know that I want a date at the wedding. I’ll be preoccupied with taking care of the food.”
“You have to dance with someone.”
“Maybe Everett will share you with me for one dance,” he said, and I smiled.
“Dream on.”
He laughed loudly. As Jason pulled into my apartment complex parking lot, I examined my nails, not quite ready to be alone.
“Has Luke … um … said anything to you? About a conversation I had with him before I left?”
Jason parked the car. “What have you done?”
“Nothing. I heard he and Debra went shopping for rings. I was a little annoyed he didn’t tell me.”
Jason’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why would he?”
“Never mind.”
“Sara.” Jason leaned back in his seat and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “No, Luke hadn’t said anything to me.”
“I was just wondering.”
“Are you okay? What can I do?”
“I need closure. I don’t know how to get it,” I said in a small voice.
“Time. Space. Moving on. Dating other people. Prayer.”
Markedly absent from his list was anything about having a conversation with Luke.
“What about Everett? Could this be real between you guys? Do you see possibility?”
My heart tugged with affection and attraction at the thought of Everett. “Yes,” I said honestly. “I didn’t see it coming, though.”
Jason smiled at me. “That’s the best way sometimes.”
Once in my apartment, I put on a load of laundry and made a cup of hot tea. Lily called on cue, and I gave her a much more thorough rundown of my trip. Finally, the conversation meandered to Addison’s lingerie shower at Lily’s house that Friday night.
“I’ll need you here early. You should take off work by four o’clock,” she told me.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I promised. “We’ve planned out the menu. It will be fun and low-key. Don’t worry, Lily.”
“I’m not. But there are lots of other girls coming from our church, Addison’s new church, and her school! I’m not great at hosting things.”
“I’ll be co-hosting with you. Deb’s helping too.”
“You should come Thursday night, and we’ll decorate ahead of time.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “But then you need to cook dinner for us.”
“Done. I’ll order pizza or something.”
After a second, Lily took a breath. “Luke talked to Sam.”
I bit the inside of my mouth and winced. “Really? What did he say?”
“I don’t know. Sam wouldn’t tell me. He only said that Luke was upset.”
I groaned. “What should I do?”
“Nothing. Just pray.”
“You sound like Jason,” I mumbled. She chuckled softly.
“I’ll pray too. It will be okay. Let’s get through Addi’s wedding, honey. Then we’ll deal with Debra’s—if there is one.”
“All right,” I agreed, thankful for Lily’s calm voice in the face of impending doom.
It rained Tuesday off and on, from the moment I walked through the museum doors until I left. My mother texted me at ten that morning, telling me she wanted me to come for dinner. Another Everett interrogation, I assumed. But since I felt lonely, I was happy to go home and let her feed me.
I smelled beef stew the minute I walked through the door. My mother is a firm believer that some meals are meant only for certain seasons. She’d only serve chili and beef stew from late September to February. My father and I, both fans of her stew, would beg for it other times of the year, but she didn’t like to give in. I stood in the foyer and breathed in the scent deeply.
“Sara?”
“I’m here.” I walked into the kitchen and dropped my purse on the island.
“Is it still raining?”
“Drizzling. Did you make cornbread?” (Texas, y’all.)
“Of course,” she answered, as though there couldn’t be a different answer.
“The stew needs fifteen more minutes. Tell me about your trip,” she insisted. So, I told her all about my trip to Charlotte (minus any kissing parts). My mom’s eyes brightened as I described the highlights of wine tasting at the gorgeous vineyard, dinner in the city, and the romantic carriage ride through uptown Charlotte. The eagerness in her voice as she asked questions clearly indicated my mother’s excitement for any romance for her unmarried daughter. She and I both howled with laughter when I told her about the fortune cookies.
We paused for a moment at the sound of a thunderclap overhead.
“Where’s Dad?”
“On the phone upstairs. A colleague called him for a consult. He’ll be down in a second. Let’s set the table and I’ll dish out bowls.”
Five minutes later my father came downstairs, and the three of us sat down to dinner together. I had to rehash most of what I’d already told my mom regarding my trip to my dad (though this version was even less romantic than the one I gave my mother). By the time we finished eating, the drizzle outside had turned into a full-on thunderstorm.
“Just stay the night,” my mom insisted. “You have extra clothes here. I don’t want you driving in this rain.”
I was inclined to agree. While she finished cleaning the kitchen, I wandered back into my parents’ study and found that album again—the one filled with pictures from the year I was born. I studied my parents’ faces, again looking for signs of marital strain. But they seemed happy. Faces beaming. Granted, the infant version of myself was between them or in someone’s arms in nearly every photo. And I assumed parents of newborns were usually beaming and happy, though sleep-deprived.
My mom walked into the room, stood next to me, looking over my shoulder at the album with a smile.
“Oh, I like that one.” She pointed to the photo below of my dad holding me in their old living room.
“Mom, how did you trust him again?” I asked, my voice quiet. She reached down and turned the page.
“It took time,” she finally answered. “But I believed the effort was worth more than the alternative. He worked hard to earn my trust again. That helped. Marriage can be difficult, Sara. But that doesn’t mean you have to let go.”
“I thought I would be married by now.” The statement popped out of my mouth unexpectedly. My mother just nodded.
“That’s all right. Life rarely goes according to our plans. It will happen for you. This is a waiting season in your life. It’s not easy to choose contentment when we want things to be different from what they are. Believe me, I’ve been there.”
I kept my eyes on the album. Why in the world did my mother have to know me so well? I wanted to protest that I was plenty content, but it would have been pointless. I also held back from telling her that Luke and Debra were now looking at engagement rings. I knew she’d be disappointed, just as I had been. No reason for both of us to be sad. I ran my hand over the plastic page of pictures of my parents and me. An intact family, forged through the fire.
“Sara,” my mother said, her voice soft but firm. “Concentrate on what God wants you to learn through it.” She left me alone in the study.
I closed the album.
All right then. God, what do you want me to learn right now?
No answers came down with the thunder, but I had a feeling I was at least asking the right question.
Friday morning I swung by Starbucks to grab a latte and, standing in line to order, I got a text from Luke.
STILL SORRY ABOUT OUR LAST CONVERSATION. CAN WE TALK SOMETIME?
I just stared at the message, trying to decide how to answer and how I felt … relieved, in a way. I’d worried I might never hear from him again after our argument at his apartment, and that could get awkward since we’d inevitably be around each other for Addi’s wedding festivities.
I stepped up to the counter and ordered a chai latte, then moved to the corner to wait.
SURE. MAYBE AFTER THE HOLIDAYS.
Wickedly, I smiled at the text. Knowing Luke’s propensity, like mine, to avoid unresolved issues like a swarm of mosquitoes, I had a feeling he wouldn’t like my response.
WHERE ARE YOU NOW?
An unbidden smile crossed my face at his response. I pictured him, forehead wrinkled and eyes narrowed at his phone.
PICKING UP A LATTE, ABOUT TO GO TO WORK.
The barista called my name, and I grabbed my drink before heading out the door. My phone rang as I stepped onto the sidewalk.
Luke.
The humor I’d felt a moment ago disappeared, replaced by anxiety. Banter through text was one thing, but verbal confrontation was another. I licked my lips as I raised the phone to my ear.
“Luke?”
“Sara, I can’t wait until after the holidays.”
I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice pleading with me. After a moment, I sank down on a bench a few paces away from Starbucks.
“Everything you said keeps going through my mind. I didn’t mean—I never meant for you to feel like I just left you behind.”
“I have to be at work in a few minutes, Luke. I don’t think I can talk about this.” The stupid impulse to cry rose in me.
“Sara, my relationship with Debra—it happened so fast. But I haven’t stopped caring about you. You—we—our friendship—” His words broke off.
“Just say what you need to, Luke.” The bitterness in my tone eased a little. “You could always talk to me about anything before.”
“That’s what I mean. You know how close we’ve been. It did feel … like staying that way would be a betrayal to Deb once we were in a relationship.”
I sucked in a shaky breath, willing my emotions not to get the better of me, wanting to be able to accept his honesty even if it hurt. And hadn’t I thought the same thing?
Thick silence lasted for a moment.
“I heard you went to see Everett,” Luke said, his tone apprehensive.
My fingers hurt from the tight grip on my phone. “Yes.” I waited, practically daring him to ask about my relationship when he’d never offered anything about his.
“Did you have a good time?”
“Yes.” The latte cup now felt lukewarm in my free hand.
“I’m glad for you. I want you to be happy, Sara.”
Not crying just got a lot harder.
My shoulders slumped as I breathed out. “I want you—and Debra—to be happy too.” Because no matter what, the friendship among all of us ran through the deepest parts of me, and I loved them both. I couldn’t stop.
“I know you do,” he said, his voice gentle. “And I’m still here, Sara. If you need me for any reason, you can call me and I’ll come. Wherever you are, I would come to you. We may not talk as much as we used to—or hang out together—but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t drop everything if you needed me.”
Oh, Lord. I wiped away a runaway tear. That was the Luke I loved.
“I’d do the same for you.”
I needed to get to work and so did he, so we said goodbye, at least leaving a slight sense of peace between us. But his words dominated my thoughts all day, even as I drove to Lily’s house that night for Addison’s shower. However, as I walked up the driveway, thoughts of Luke had to be set aside. One of my best girlfriends was about to get all kinds of sexy lingerie, and it was absolutely time to party.
Debra threw open the door for me and squealed. “This is so exciting!”
I smiled back. She grabbed my arm and pulled me in. Lily came around the corner, wiping sweat from her forehead and tying her hair in a ponytail while asking me why I couldn’t get there earlier. The three of us set out platters of appetizers and desserts. Pink and black streamers and balloons filled the living room and dining area. A huge cake sat in the center of the dining table, flanked by bottles of champagne and a huge bowl of pink punch. The house filled up fast with Addison’s many friends from church and work.
Low-key never seems to really be a good way to describe parties. I hadn’t been able to sit down once since arriving at Lily’s around 4:30. Laughter and conversation reached every corner of the house. I organized the gift table, kept the food platters filled, and started making coffee and slicing cake once everyone finally settled into the living room in order to watch Addison open gifts.
Parties also always seem to last much longer than the “end time” written on the invitation. At 9:45, I collapsed on Lily’s couch as Addison said goodbye to the last guest. The four of us girls were alone. Debra stretched out on the floor.
