"They'll fit," he said. "It's bigger than it looks."
"Can you please tell us a story, Mimi?" Justin asked.
"I'll tell one," I said, "but if you get it wrong, you won't get a second chance. Patrick's got to work tomorrow and we need to be getting back to Austin."
"I won't miss, but if I do, I won't ask for another one," Justin promised.
"Are y'all headed back so soon?" my mom asked. "I thought you might wait around till your dad got off work."
My mom's head-shaking reaction to Patrick was all the excitement I needed for one day. I wasn't trying to wait around and see what my dad had to say about him. "I think we need to be heading back," I said. "Dad won't be home for another hour and we need to get on the road."
I glanced at Patrick, who was trying to indicate to me through slight headshakes that he wasn't in a hurry. He didn't want to contradict me in front of them, which was amazing of him.
Everything about this guy was amazing. I couldn't think of a single thing I'd change. I mean, I'd definitely change one thing, but as far as his appearance and personality I wouldn't change a thing. He seemed dangerous and approachable at the same time, which was a contradiction I'd always liked. As a history student, I imagined some of my favorite heroes as having that vibe—like someone you trusted and feared all at once. Anyway, this most handsome hero was giving me the go ahead to stay and wait for my father, but I knew we should be going.
Chapter 12
"Aren't you gonna tell us that story, Mimi?" Justin asked again.
"Yeah, buddy I am, but remember what I said about not needing another one if you get it wrong."
"I won't," he assured me.
"Okay, so once, a really long time ago, there was a young man named James Bowie but most people called him Jim. And one day Jim and this gang of rough guys he'd fallen in with were out in the woods when Jim heard something off in the distance. He told his buddies he was going off into the forest to see what the noise was about, and none of them even cared because they were all too busy being loud, crazy boys, doing things like shouting and shooting their pistols into the air." I pretended to fire off pistols with my fingers, which made everyone laugh. "So, Jim takes off in search of that noise and what do you think he found?"
"What?"
My eyes got wide. "A deer."
"A deer?" Justin asked hoping for something better than that.
"Yep, he found a deer. But it wasn't just any deer."
"What kind of deer was it?" he asked.
"It was a special deer. It had a big set of antlers on it's head, bigger than any set of antlers Jim Bowie had ever seen, and he walked right up to that deer even though walkin' right up to deer is pretty much unheard of—especially way back then when they didn't have deer in pins like we do now. Anyway, Jim Bowie walked right up to this big ole buck, and do you know what he did?"
"What?" Justin, Jude, and Patrick all said at the same time.
I tried to contain a smile as I continued. "He said, 'Jim Bowie, you're gonna be a rich man,' and that deer whispered into Jim Bowie's ear the secret of inventing an airplane. And that's how airplanes were invented. Jim Bowie will forever be remembered as the guy who invented airplanes, but not very many people know the true story about how he did it." I crossed my arms in a satisfied pose, saying that was the end of my story.
Patrick was hanging with me for a while, but he was looking confused now, and it was hard for me to keep a straight face as I looked first at him and then at my nephews.
"Fact or fiction?" I asked.
"Which one means it's fake?" Justin asked.
"Fiction," I said.
"Fiction then," he said, sounding sure of himself.
"How'd you know?" I asked. I glanced at Jude, who was staring at his big brother waiting for his opinion.
"I know it's fake because of the talking deer. There's no such thing."
"That's right," I said.
"I'm glad you picked up on that. Also, Jim Bowie didn't invent the airplane."
"I know," Justin said. "He's the one who made that knife. You told us that story last time. It was a true one."
"Good, I'm glad you remembered that."
"Plus, I knew it was fake by that talking deer," Justin said, shaking his head at me like it was too easy.
"I guess we need to get on out of here," I said, looking at Patrick, who was less confused now that he got the game.
"Patrick was telling us about his travels," my mom said. "He's headed to Amsterdam in a couple of weeks. Did you know that?"
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound unaffected. I hated being reminded of it, but it was probably a good thing she mentioned it before I went and got all soft seeing him interact with my family.
I took Patrick to my room and showed him the boxes I wanted to take back to Austin. He said he'd take care of loading them while I said goodbye to my mom and the boys. We hadn't made physical contact since he hugged me in my driveway that morning, and the desire to do so radiated between us. I could tell he wanted to reach out and touch me and he could probably tell I wanted him to, but neither of us acted on it.
I left him to load the boxes, and I went to the kitchen. My mom was holding Jude, who was crying.
"What happened?" I said.
"He's sad Patrick's leaving," Justin said.
I looked at my mom, who nodded.
"He's tired," my mom said.
"I am not tiredddddd!" Jude cried.
"He's not tired," my mom said, making a sarcastic face at me.
Jude continued to cry.
We ended up walking the boys onto the porch to look for lizards in an effort to distract Jude. He and I sat on the swing while Justin and my mom went lizard hunting. We could see every time Patrick went to his car with a box, and each time, Jude pointed at him and made me look up. (As if I needed any encouragement to stare at him, now my nephew was sitting beside me demanding that I do it.) Jude actually watched to make sure I didn't look away from Patrick. It was the funniest thing. I'd see him looking at me out of the corner of my eye, so I'd glance down at him, and each time, he'd point, wanting me to look at Patrick again. He'd even turn my face with his hand if I stared at him too long. It was hilarious, and I wished someone else had been there to watch him do it. Then, Patrick would go into the house to get another box, and Jude would go back to looking around and not caring what I was doing.
It happened each time Patrick made a trip until finally, he was done loading boxes, and he started walking down the porch headed for us.
"I got one!" Justin said, springing onto the porch in front of Patrick. He held it out for Patrick's approval. They stared at it.
"We didn't have these in California," Patrick said. "We have some lizards, but ours look more like geckos with spots. This little guy's just plain isn't he?" Patrick cocked a head at the lizard who was being calm in Justin's hand. Then, the part right under the lizard's neck went forward like a big, red disc shooting out of his adam's apple. "Whoa!" Patrick said, looking at Justin. "That was cool."
"That's showin' his money," Justin said, proudly. "That's what my pawpaw calls it when they do that. Only the boy ones do it."
Patrick laughed. "That guy's got a lot of money."
"You wanna hold him?" Justin asked.
"Sure, I'll hold him," Patrick said. They made the exchange. The lizard wiggled a little, and there was a near miss, but Patrick secured him, and held him up for inspection. "You gonna show me your money?" Patrick asked.
As if on command, the lizard extended his gobbler or whatever it's called, making the boys, including Patrick, crack up.
"You can latch him on your ear if you want," Justin said, still laughing.
"What, like by his mouth?" Patrick asked.
"Yeah, you just open his mouth and put him up by your ear and he'll bite it. My daddy can do it, and Uncle Cam."
"And they do it on purpose?" Patrick asked looking comically surprised.
That made Justin and Jude both laugh. "Yes,
silly. It hangs on your ear like an earring," Justin said.
"Is this true?" Patrick asked.
My mom and I both nodded.
"But you don't need to do that," I added. "There's probably a trick to getting their mouth open, and I don't know what it is."
"Oh, I do!" Justin said. He reached up to take the lizard. Patrick handed it to him, and then bent to offer the boy his ear. The whole exchange only took a few seconds and before I knew it, Patrick was standing up with a huge smile on his face and a lizard dangling from his ear. I took a picture with my cell phone before he coaxed the lizard off his ear and set him free in a fern.
Jude went up to Patrick and stuck his hands in the air, waiting to be picked up. Patrick not only picked him up, but also rubbed his back when Jude collapsed onto his shoulder like a big cuddle bug.
"We should get on the road," I said.
"You want a cup of coffee before you go," my mom asked.
"We have to go; thanks though, Mom."
Patrick put Jude down and reached out to hug Justin.
"Thank you for bringing Mia all this way," my mom said. "I worry about her in that jeep."
"I'm fine, Mom."
"Still, I'm glad you're headed home in that nice car."
"You can drive it while I'm out of town if you want," he said. I let out a laugh like he was teasing, but he just gave me a little shake of the head to tell me he was serious. I shook my head back at him to tell him he was being silly, but that whole exchange lasted only the span of a few seconds, and neither of us said anything.
"Well, thank you for driving her and thanks for being so good with the boys," my mom said. She reached out and roughed-up Jude's hair. "It was really nice meeting you, and I think they had fun."
The boys were sad to see us go so it took us several more minutes to get out of the driveway, but we finally made it.
"I could tell you wanted to get out of there, but I'm about ready for some coffee if you know of a place," he said once we were on the road.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to seem like I was in a hurry. I thought you'd want to get on the road"
He glanced at me from across the console smiling. "She warmed up to me after a while," he said, knowing my decision to leave was more about my dad. He was right; my mom had warmed up to him. That was sort of the problem, though. It was bad enough the way he was infiltrating my heart. The last thing I needed was for my family to fall in love with him. At least, with the way it stood, I could imagine my dad would hate him.
I told him I knew of a mom and pop coffee shop that was a few minutes out of the way, but he said a gas station would be fine. He got gas while we were there, so I got his coffee, which he took black. I got myself one and also some peanuts and candy in case he was hungry. I carried everything carefully as I made my way outside.
"I should have offered to scan my credit card for gas before I went inside," I said when I got close enough for him to hear me.
He'd just finished pumping gas, so he came around the front of the car to take his coffee.
"I should have given you money to pay for the coffee," he said.
"Don't be silly," I said. "I'm seriously going to give you some money for gas. I got some cash back at the register. I'll get it when we get in the car."
He shook his head at me like I was being ridiculous. "You're so cute," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"I don’t know," he said shrugging. "You just look so cute coming out here with your purple hair, carrying my coffee, and talking about giving me cash."
I cut him a playful glare as we got into the car. "I cannot believe my nephews were so crazy about you," I said. "Jude lives for his nap."
Patrick laughed. "They were cool," he said. "I couldn't believe how they just came up to me like that. Jude especially—he was like a koala bear or something, just latching onto me." I laughed at the memory of Jude with his head on Patrick's shoulder. We talked about the boys, which led to a conversation about my brothers and our childhood.
He shared some about his childhood too, and honestly, I could see how someone who'd been through and seen the things he had turned out believing there was no God, but it saddened me greatly that someone so kind and intelligent was missing the one thing that meant everything.
We'd been talking the whole way home, and we weren't far from Austin when our conversation took natural pause.
"Have I made it clear that I like you, Mia?" he asked, breaking the silence.
I smiled at him from across the console. I wanted him so badly that my insides felt like they had been charged with some electric voltage. He was exactly the right man for me in every way except for the only freaking way that mattered in the grand scheme of things.
I sighed and put my face in my hands.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"I mean, yeah, I guess you're making it clear you like me, Patrick, I just don't know what to make of it."
"I'm telling you I don't want no strings attached with you. I'm asking for strings. Can we please try some strings?"
I let out a little frustrated laugh. "Would you please stop being so perfect?"
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"It means I can't take it anymore," I said. "I can't take you being, uhh, you! You're literally my perfect man." I paused, staring at him. "If I were an artist, I'd create you for myself; yet I can't have you. It's like some kind of cruel joke."
"Why are you saying you can't have me? I'm telling you you can have me. I'm telling you I feel the same about you, Mia. I am an artist, but I wouldn't have come close to you. You're better than anything I could make."
I sighed. "I just don't think it could work out with the doctrinal differences we have."
"I don't have any doctrines."
"Exactly," I said.
"What's the problem?" he asked. "I don't see why we can't just ignore our differences."
"Plus, you travel all the time," I said, trying to put it off on something else besides God.
"I've been thinking about that today. I'll start scheduling my biggest trip in the summer so you can come with me. I'm sure I'll need to be out of town a little for conventions and other things, but we can try to work around your schedule so you can come with me most of the time." He paused for a second. "Or you can just quit for a few years and travel with me. You can do research from the road."
I buried my face in my hands, and silent tears sprang to my eyes. They were crazy tears. It's like they were joyous tears that turned bitter as they fell onto my cheek. I quickly brushed them off my face, hoping he didn't notice. I wiped my face as I took a deep breath, trying to decide how I felt and think of what to say.
Chapter 13
We were sitting in his car, driving into Austin and Patrick had just come right out and told me he wanted more with me—a lot more.
"Patrick, I don't know what to say. Everything you said just now was so perfect. You have no idea how much I want to just throw caution to the wind and say, 'yes Patrick Mallory! I'll travel the world with you!'"
"So say it," he said.
I groaned. "I feel like my head's gonna explode because you're only missing one thing and it's the only thing that matters!"
"Why does it matter so much? Why can't we just ignore religion?"
"It's not religion I'm trying to ignore. I pretty much do ignore religion."
"Why can't you get over it that I don't believe in God?"
"Because I know there is one. I'm too invested in you not to care."
"Oh, so you're saying you're like all the others who are scared of me now?"
"It's not like that, Patrick. I don't care what you choose to believe. I can't control that. But I also can't be with you."
"Why not?"
"Because one day I want to have kids, or at least one kid. I don't know, but I'm relatively sure I want offspring."
"Okayyy?" he asked.
"Well, I'm gonna want to teach these offspring about God. It's important t
o me. I know I'll feel responsible for their little souls, and I'm just not gonna be able to ignore God with them."
"Why can't we just let them choose what they want to believe?"
I couldn't believe he was discussing our made-up future children. My thoughts were desperate as I tried to make sense of why I was telling Patrick Mallory no when all I wanted to say was yes.
"I wish I could tell you I'd be okay with you or our theoretical children choosing to believe anything they want. I wish that were true because that would solve this whole problem. The truth is, this is the suckiest impasse I've ever been at in my life. I hate myself for telling you no right now."
"So, that's it? You're telling me no?"
I let out another frustrated groan. "Uhh! It has to be it."
"You can't date me because I'm not a Christian?"
"When you put it like that it makes me sound like a freak, and you know it."
"It's the truth, though. That's what you're saying, right—that you won't date me because I'm not a Christian."
I was angry with myself that it had to be an issue. I hated it. I felt the blood rise to my cheeks as embarrassment and anger hit me. I couldn't fathom that I was actually telling Patrick Mallory no. I just couldn’t get over what I knew was going to be his fate. I considered the possibility of being with him long term—thought about how much more I'd grow to love him. My soul just couldn't get over it.
"I know it makes me seem like a prude," I said. "It doesn't sound right when you accuse me of judging you for not being a Christian because normally I don't care what people choose."
He let out a long sigh.
We were getting close to my house and I dreaded saying goodbye because I felt like it might be for the last time.
"I don't know what to tell you," he said. "I can't just flip a switch, Mia."
"I know you can't," I said. "Wait," I added, feeling a backlash of hope when I thought about his statement. "Did you try to flip it?"
He smiled, but shook his head. "I mean, I'm open to anything, especially if it means getting you in the deal, but I have to be honest with you… I've read the Bible and I just don't see the point."
When Lightning Strikes Page 8