Destiny Ever-Changing

by Ivey , Tasha

"I'm so pleased you made it, Will. Poor Joshua is absolutely miserable here without all of his friends. He just follows me around like some lost puppy, so I'm relieved you're here to take him off my hands."

  "Hey, I'm happy to help," Will says as he winks at me.

  She turns toward me with a mischievous smile. "Sweetheart, whose car is in the drive? It looks familiar, but I'm sure I don't know anyone that would drive such a primitive, hideous thing."

  "That would be my car," Laura says boldly and stands to greet Jacqueline.

  "Oh my! I didn't know anyone else was present. Please don't take any offense to my comment. The car is simply not my taste."

  "No offense taken," Laura says with determination. "I like my car just fine."

  "Jacqueline," I interrupt before my fiancée gets crude. "This is Laura Carey. She just moved in down the road. She is the one who had the flat tire yesterday that I changed. She came by to thank me."

  "Which house?" Jacqueline says insolently, obviously more concerned with Laura's status than with politely introducing herself.

  "Actually, it's my grandmother's house. I'm going to be staying with her for a while. It's a little white house about a mile down the road, just before you come to the public beach area."

  "You mean the one with all of those gaudy flowers?" Jacqueline offensively inquires.

  With a spiteful smile, Laura fires right back. "Yes, that's the one. I can see how it can be a bit difficult to see the beauty in someone . . . er, I mean, something so presumptuous sometimes."

  Jacqueline doesn't have anything to say about that. "Joshua, I have several bags in the car. Bring them in for me. I am exhausted, and I need to lie down."

  She storms inside, and I can't help but smirking. Jacqueline has met her match.

  "Sorry about her, Laura," I apologize. "She doesn't have a tactful bone in her body."

  Her annoyance melts away to a sweet smile. "No worries. I can handle her."

  Will, meanwhile, has quite enjoyed the spectacle. The whole time the two women were talking, he sipped his lemonade and intently listened to every word.

  "I'm shocked," Will beams. "Most people would have run away with their tail tucked between their legs."

  "Thanks, I guess," she says, standing up. "I guess I need to be getting home. I think I've had more than enough excitement for one day."

  "I agree with you on that one. It has certainly been an interesting afternoon. I'll walk you out to your car."

  We take off around the house, and I walk her up to her car and open the door. "I'm glad we had the chance to talk, and I'm even more glad that I'm going to be seeing more of you, friend."

  Laura laughs melodically. "There you go trying to convince yourself again."

  "Guess so. It's probably going to take a lot of convincing on my behalf, I'm afraid."

  "Yeah, right," she exaggerates. "You hardly know anything about me."

  I whisper to her flirtatiously. "See, that's where you're wrong. I know more than you think; besides, a guy can learn a lot from seeing a girl's taste in panties."

  She immediately gasps and blushes. "You are never going to let me forget that, are you? Those aren't my taste anyway."

  "I know, I know. You don't have to explain. I'm just messing with you. I know they were a gift; that was the box that I saw your name on."

  "So humiliating!" she exclaims, hiding her face in her hands.

  I pull her hands down. "You'll be laughing about it with me someday."

  "I seriously doubt that, but we'll see," she says.

  Her shy grin suddenly fades and her eyes dart over to me. "What's wrong, Laura?"

  "I should get going. It's going to be dark soon, and I know my Nana will be wondering where I am. Maybe, I'll see you around." She buckles her seatbelt and starts her car, waiting for me to let go of her car door.

  "Sure, I hope so," I say, trying to figure out her sudden change of demeanor. "Take care and drive safe."

  I shut her door, and she immediately pulls out of the drive. I watch her car speed down the road until I can no longer see her. I turn to walk back toward the house to find Will, and I suddenly understand what altered Laura's mood. Jacqueline is standing in the front door glaring at me. As I approach the house, she opens the glass door.

  "Can I talk to you?" she snaps. "Like, now!"

  I walk up the porch steps to meet her. "What?"

  "I don't know what kind of trick you are trying to pull, but it's not going to work. If you think you can flaunt some little whore around our house and hope to get me to call the wedding off, you're dead wrong. You can sleep around on me all you want to; I don't care. Do you really think I'm actually faithful to you? Actually, go ahead and cheat on me. That will give me more ammunition and more alimony in the long run. Just remember, my dear, I'm in this for financial security, not for you. No matter what you do, we will be married."

  Without giving me any chance of rebuttal, she goes back inside, slamming the door behind her. I think it's somewhat entertaining that she is under the impression I brought Laura here to try to make her jealous; that's exactly what it did, too. I could probably invite her over every day to really get to Jacqueline, but I wouldn't dream of subjecting Laura to her more than I have to. It would be nice to have her around every day, though.

  I'm pleased with how our talk ended and that she's willing to continue talking to me. She was right that nothing has happened between us, so it shouldn't be a big deal. However, I can't help but feeling like something has happened between us. I mean, we met only yesterday, and we've spoken a few times for a very short while. On the contrary, I can't seem to justify the strong connection I have with her, and it seems that she feels the connection, too. It doesn't make any sense to me.

  Will comes around the corner of the house. "There you are! Is she gone?"

  "Is who gone?"

  "You know I'm talking about Laura. Quit playing stupid."

  I smile as I walk back toward the deck, and he joins me. "She just left."

  His mouth turns up at the corners. "You're sleeping with her, aren't you?"

  "No! I just met her yesterday, and you may have heard that I'm engaged! Where would you get that idea?"

  "I saw the way you two were looking at each other, so I just assumed. I've known you for a long time, and I've never seen you look at a woman that way. If you're honestly not sleeping with her, then what is going on?"

  I recline on my favorite lounge chair, and Will sits across from me on the deck railing. I feel somewhat like a psychiatric patient as I tell him all the details of the last two days—from the moment I first met her, up to our "friend" talk this afternoon. I decide to tell him even how I feel an unexplained bond with her. He knows that my marriage with Jacqueline is being forced, so it's not likely that he'll criticize me for being attracted to another woman.

  "Will, all I know is, I can't let myself get any closer to her, but I can't let her get any further away either. Does that make sense? I know that nothing can ever happen between us, so I have determined that the best thing to do is to be her friend."

  Will sits at the foot of my lounge chair. "Hey, no one can blame you for feeling this way. Not with everything that you've been thrown into lately. I think it's only natural for your subconscious to resist your imminent marriage, so maybe that's all this is. Maybe, you don't have any genuine feelings for her at all."

  "You know, I didn't even think of it that way. It would explain an awful lot. Why else would I be so strongly attracted to someone I don't even know? That has to be what is going on. Wow, I knew you were my best friend for some reason."

  "So, what are you going to do now that I have enlightened you?" Will puffs out his chest.

  "I'll tell you exactly what I'm going to do," I announce as I sit up. "I'm going to set you up with Laura."

  He looks confused. "Excuse me?"

  "Come on, man. She's gorgeous and single, and you are . . . single."

  Will laughs deeply. "I was waiting for you to tell me
that I'm gorgeous!"

  "Seriously, isn't that something a friend would do? And, I saw the way you looked at her when we pulled into the drive this afternoon."

  "She's crazy about you," he says. "Why would she agree to go out with me?"

  "It's not like I'm setting you up on a date. We'll have a cookout, and I'll invite her. You can get to know her and let it go from there."

  His smile fades, and he looks at me seriously. "Are you sure that, if anything happens between me and Laura, you won't be jealous or upset? I wouldn't want to ruin a twenty-year friendship over a woman."

  "Are you kidding?" I ask, teasingly shoving him. "It will make me happy if you're happy."

  He shoves me back. "If you say so. I won't lie, though. She's smoking hot."

  "I haven't noticed," I say, jokingly shrugging my shoulders as Will snickers. "How about we have a cookout when my sister gets here? I can invite Laura over then."

  "I like it," he nods. "Now, where are those steaks we're going to grill? I'm starving."

  We spend the rest of the evening without even a subtle mention of Laura or Jacqueline. We grill our steaks, toss a football around down on the beach, go for a swim, and play pool for a couple hours. It's nice to hang out with Will to get my mind off of the problems that have been plaguing me.

  Even though we haven't mentioned her, the mere absence of Laura afflicts me more than anything else; I can't wait to see her again. I thought I had everything figured out, but it seems that I am only fooling myself. Setting her up with him could possibly make my feelings for her subside—or make them worse.

  Chapter Nine — Following in Her Footsteps

  Laura:

  Looking into my rearview mirror, I see Brooks standing in the driveway and watching me leave. The last hour has certainly been an interesting one. It seems like nearly everything I thought I knew about him has changed. He obviously has money and is not a gardener. He is also very charming and exceedingly attractive, but also engaged.

  I admit that I am enormously disappointed after hearing his admissions, but I am also relieved, in a way. I know that I don't need to complicate my life any further right now. I'm not here to find another man to get into a doomed relationship with; I'm here to find myself.

  On the other hand, I can't help but feeling let down. He is exceptionally kind, and he seems genuine and good-hearted—when he's not being grouchy and despondent. I hardly know anything about him, but I can't explain why I felt immediately drawn to him when we met. I have never felt anything like that with any man I have ever dated. It has always taken me a while to make that connection, and with most of the men I have gone out with, I never felt that way.

  I now know that we can only be friends, and I can live with that. As long as his fiancée isn't around, I would love to get to know him better and, maybe, be able to confide in him. He did mention that he might tell me more about his relationship with his fiancée and why it makes him the way he is.

  I don't understand how someone like him could be engaged to someone like her. They don't seem to be alike in any way, nor do they act as if they are even fond of each other. There's something very strange going on there. I can tell, though, that she doesn't like me around. The way she glared at me through the front door sent icy chills down my spine; however, she doesn't scare me. I have never been the type to let someone intimidate me—she won't be the first.

  One detail of our talk is disturbing me to the core of my shattered soul. A simple hug between friends shouldn't feel the way that ours did. Maybe, I was in desperate need of a hug. I have been through a lot the last few days—I'm a total basket case. Nana has hugged me a lot, but this was different. This didn't feel like a friendly hug; this was a tender embrace that radiated warmth deep into my body. Every nerve was alive and tingling. It felt as if there was an unseen energy enveloping the both of us, moving through us and binding us together. That feeling truly moved me and made me feel whole, if only for a brief moment. The mere remembrance of it is making me tremble, and I feel a lump rising in my throat.

  I need air . . . now. I roll down all of my car windows, creating a violent windstorm in my car. My hair whips around wildly, and the breeze invisibly stroking my skin gives me the slightest chill. I take in several deep breaths to calm my nerves before I pull into the drive at Nana's house.

  "Well, do I get the explanation now?" Nana asks as I walk through the front door.

  "Truthfully, there's not much to explain. The guy that I was telling you about is, of course, the one who returned my necklace. He followed me home last night to be sure that I made it home safely. That's how he knows where I live. He found my locket when he got back. Actually, it was broken, so he had it repaired before returning it."

  Nana radiates a knowing grin. "My goodness! He sounds like quite a gentleman. He really must like—"

  "No, Nana," I interrupt. "He's engaged. He told me when I went over there."

  "Oh, Laura. You look disappointed. You like him, don't you?"

  "Goodness, no!" I lie. "How could I possibly like someone I barely know? He was just being considerate. In fact, we plan on staying in touch and being friends. I don't need any complications in my life right now. You know that."

  Nana seems to see right through me. "If you say so, honey. I'll just take your word for it. Are you ready for some dinner? It's getting late."

  "I'm not hungry at all, actually. I'm utterly exhausted. I think I'll go to my room, read a book for a while, and turn in a bit early. Goodnight, Nana."

  "Ok, then," she says understandingly. "Goodnight."

  Once I make it back up to my room, I take off my mom's locket and place it on the nightstand. After throwing a change of clothes and a towel on my bathroom vanity, I step into the shower, turn the water as hot as I can stand it, and I quickly wash my hair and lather my body. Then, I just let the searing hot water rain down on my neck and back, and I breathe in the steamy air as deeply as I can.

  The day's events keep replaying over and over in my head, and I almost feel as if I'm trying to wash it all away. I'm having trouble discerning what is bothering me so much and what it is about him that makes me so enthralled with him. I thought that I had decided that our friendship would be the best thing for both of us, so why do I feel disappointed? I lied to Nana about it, but if I told her the truth, I'm not quite sure how I would've explained it.

  It suddenly occurs to me that my shower has turned completely cold, making it obvious that I have been lost in my thoughts for a while. I get dressed and run a comb through my tangled hair. Walking over to the balcony doors and peering out toward the ocean, I almost expect—or hope—to see Brooks standing out there, but I see nothing. I open both of the french doors to let in the brackish air, and I take a seat on the couch near the doors and enjoy the sounds of the ocean. After a few minutes of serenity, I reach over to the bookshelf to grab a book to read, but the first book my hand makes contact with is my mother's journal.

  I place it in my lap and rub my hand across its cover, and I close my eyes to visualize my mom doing the same. With my eyes remaining closed, I try to imagine what kind of person she was back then. I think of the picture that's inside the front cover and try to envision that beautiful, young woman holding this journal and pouring her heart into it. Remembering the picture also brings to mind that she was probably pouring a lot of details of the two of them into it—details that I would love to know.

  My eyes pop open, and I, once again, untie the ribbon and open the front cover, eager to uncover what happened with her first love. Just as before, the picture is still tucked right behind the cover. I examine the picture more closely than I did earlier, and I see something that helps to make sense of something that is in the box. Near the bottom of the fading picture, I can see my mom's foot partially buried in the sand. Tied around her ankle is a thin piece of rope, and it's the very same one that's in the box. I search the picture to discover meanings of the other items, but I find nothing.

  On the very first
page of the journal are my mother's name, address, and a little hand-drawn picture of two hearts that are just slightly crossing over each other. One heart contains the initial "R," and the other has a "J." I can guess that the "R" is for Regina, but "J' is still unknown. I struggle for a moment, not wanting to turn the page. I still have this feeling of being invasive, but I know I'll go crazy if I don't find out who the mystery "J" is now.

  Quickly, I flip the page to find the very first entry.

  April 24, 1978

  Happy birthday to me. I ask for a new record player, and my mom gives me a journal. I swear I will never understand that woman. I turned seventeen years old today, and it wasn't anything special at all. I broke things off with my boyfriend, Paul, last week, and my friend, Janie, is out of town with her family. Therefore, I spent nearly the whole day up in my room and read an entire book. I only came down for dinner, and that's when my mom brought out a cake. She and my dad sang to me, I blew out the candles, she gave me this stupid journal, and I went back up to my room . . . what a party. My dad was going on and on about how they are short on money right now, so they couldn't do much for my birthday this year. A journal? I still can't believe it. I may as well put it to some use, I guess.

  Note to self: Don't ever break up with your boyfriend a week before your birthday. At least wait until the week after.

  Regina

  I close the journal and smile. I never expected my mom to sound so much like myself . . . cynical and hopeless. Maybe we have more in common than I ever imagined. Judging by the date, this was before her magical transformation that Nana talked about. I still have trouble believing that being in love can make that big of a difference in someone's life. I have certainly never experienced that sort of breakthrough, but then again, Nana says that she doesn't think I've ever been truly in love. I can't say that I totally disagree.

  My first inclination is to continue reading, but it's getting late. I want to take the time to get to know my mom through the journal, so I decide to pace myself. There aren't many entries, so I'll read one per day, and I'm really going to put some thought into everything she wrote. Nana seems to think she had some sort of life-altering occurrence, and there could be some truth to it. It could very possibly help me understand what made her so content. At any rate, I'll still be able to learn a lot about who my mom was and why.