by Hope Lyda
I held up my hand and nodded. “I know who she is. But you and Ferris?”
Ariel waved her hands in the air to erase any further thoughts I might have about her and Ferris, “First, I wanted him to be the father through artificial means, if that helps your reaction any. Second, there is no need to worry…Ferris is responsible, too responsible to get sucked into my madness. He’s sweet, though. He said maybe there was a possibility for love between us, but I didn’t see it…so then I started freaking out about him wanting a relationship. How messed up can I get?”
“Can you blame him? A fantastic woman says she wants to have a baby with him. I’d be gravely disappointed in him if he wasn’t thinking long-term.”
“As in…you’re disappointed in me?” She asked nervously.
I shrugged and then shook my head. “I’m not. I’m sad you didn’t confide in me, but I get that you have a desire and it became all-consuming. I’m not there yet personally, but I can understand it. Just look at me and the quest for the perfect microwave pizza. Sometimes it’s hard to shake an important focus.”
Ariel laughed. “Well, thankfully it all became clear at your party.”
“How so?” I asked.
“One glimpse of real love, and I knew Ferris was right—I wasn’t prepared to enter into parenthood without having it all, including love.”
“So what did Ferris say to you that changed how you felt?”
“Not Ferris, Libby. Hudson.”
My heart sank. “What do you mean, Ariel?” I reached for the pen Blaine had given me. It seemed to offer some support.
“Hudson and I chatted almost the entire time you and Pan were in my study. After our first exchange I felt the butterflies and I just knew…”
“You knew?” Oh, great. Both my friends were in love with him. Jude had this effect on women even when he was only Hudson. Good thing I didn’t crush easily, or I would have my own feelings thrown into this mess. “You like him?”
“I know he’s your cousin…is this weird? This is weird, right?”
I decided to take advantage of this angle. “Yes. I’m a bit uncomfortable talking about family like this.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not after him. I won’t become the stalker girl your family laughs about over Thanksgiving pumpkin pie. My point is that I felt something. Attraction. Hope. Potential. I didn’t see that I was almost settling for half of my dream until that evening. Love could still come my way in an unexpected moment.”
“Hallelujah,” I said with great relief.
“Hey, it wouldn’t be that bad to have me in your family tree.”
I reached for her hand and held it. “You already are my family, Ariel. I’m just glad you have your whole dream back.”
“Me too.”
At 10:50 I grabbed some empty folders and started my trek to the main floor’s janitor’s closet. I didn’t see Rachel on the way, so when I reached the door, I tapped twice. Sure enough, my cohort was there.
“What? No snacks? I’m insulted.”
Rachel reached behind a bucket and removed two Hershey bars. “With almonds or without.”
“With.” I perked up at the sight of chocolate. My morning had been so packed with confessions of unrequited love that I hadn’t had a moment to get coffee. This was the next best thing. I took a bite and then held up the bar to examine the teeth marks. Mom was wrong…I should have had braces.
“I’m doing it, Libby.”
I looked up from my dental impression to see what she was doing. Nothing.
“I thought I’d get a bit more of reaction,” Rachel said, clearly disappointed.
“Sorry. What are you doing, exactly?”
“Going to Europe. My brother is in Barcelonia as we speak. I plan to meet up with him whenever I can wrap up a few details here. I have a call in to Ken.”
“I…I don’t know what to say. Why now?”
Rachel looked at me with shock. “I thought you of all people would understand. Don’t we share the same dream of leaving all of this behind to travel?” She waved her arms around as though the 4 x 4 closet represented our entire existence.
She was right, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it openly. She and I had discussed our pretend itineraries ever since she started a couple years ago. But now she was going to make those real, at least one of them, and I was still going to be here, telling lies, and trying to maneuver my way back into a career that never existed. “I thought you were saving to go this summer,” I said instead of crying.
“I figured that if an advanced degree isn’t going to take me anywhere right away, then my passport will. You could join me, Libby.”
“I couldn’t leave Blaine.” We each heard that with a different perspective.
“You’re right. He’ll lead you to a better professional situation than Cecilia ever would. You might have had the luckiest demotion in the history of corporate America.”
“Could be.” Yet as I said that, I wondered if I kept my job but lost a chance to travel, would I be settling for half a dream the way Ariel almost did? What would or could stop me from joining Rachel or Maddie? Or maybe the question was who?
My pulse quickened.
Blaine.
“I really believe that,” Rachel said with sincerity.
“What?” I asked defensively, as though she had read my tangent thoughts.
“Little distracted, are we? Your demotion. I think it’s a good thing in a way.”
“I do too. But I’m worried that I don’t know what I’m after anymore,” I said aloud, though I hadn’t really intended to confess that to anyone.
It seemed that Rachel didn’t hear me. I stood up from my leaning pose against the wall of the small closet and stepped toward the door.
“Happiness,” she said clearly and loudly.
“Hmm?”
“You’re after happiness, Libby. We all are. You just need to figure out what that is from within rather than from other people’s definitions. Who cares about titles if finding your purpose is part of the process?”
“My purpose is to file,” I said jokingly, but I understood what she was saying. I had never given Rachel credit for spiritual insight, yet here she was telling me exactly what Aunt Maddie had been trying to tell me forever. I thought of Brother Lawrence finding complete fulfillment and purpose while doing his mundane kitchen duties. Could I find my way to personal, intended happiness while serving in a very unglamorous assistant position?
Rachel seemed to interpret my silence. “Libby, what I’m doing might be what you want to pursue, but it needs to be the right timing. You of all people should know this.”
“Of all people?” I asked, bewildered.
“Isn’t God’s timing a big part of your faith?”
“It is. I mean, at least I consider that to be part of faith. I’m still figuring that stuff out, to be honest.”
“That’s what makes you so darn likeable. I’ve never been a big fan of organized religion, but I’ve witnessed your quest, Libby, and I find it admirable. And, honestly, it’s even part of why I’ve taken this leap. I have settled for a really long time. Not in the scheme of my entire lifeline, but in terms of my goals and desires.”
“But aren’t I settling by staying?” I implored.
Rachel shook her head adamantly. “No. Libby, I believe in what you might end up doing if you stay. There is nothing wrong with holding out or holding on. But for me, it’s so clear that this is over.” To reinforce her point, she spelled it, “O-V-E-R. But you have a chance to grow here finally. Blaine is a godsend, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” I said. But we each heard that with a different perspective.
Thirty
“Double residency requires additional monthly fees,” Newton said without looking up from his magazine when I entered the lobby.
I kept walking and avoided looking over at him. I didn’t plan to acknowledge his comment or existence.
“I saw him go up and never leave. And I’ve already had a complaint abo
ut the loud music coming from your apartment.”
I waved as I headed up the stairs as though Newton had merely given me a cordial greeting the way most apartment lobby managers would. The loud music he referenced greeted me midway up the stairs. It wasn’t Torrid music, but it was a similar genre…lots of bass and drums. Hudson and I would need to have a little talk about his guest etiquette.
I didn’t need to bother unlocking the door, it was ajar with a Nike shoe wedged in the opening. Cecilia had better return soon. I pushed the door fully open using my grocery sack from Larry’s Market. I had planned on making spaghetti and garlic bread for my guest so we wouldn’t have reason to leave the apartment tonight. The idea of being alone with Hudson every evening caused me more than a little discomfort and embarrassment.
The scene playing out in front of me caused me to look back at my door to verify the number. My recent acquaintance, Levi, was jamming to music that was blaring from my stereo. I went over to turn down the sound. The silence seemed more violent than the drums on the CD had. I looked past the older man, who now stood looking guilty, and saw Hudson lying on the back edge of my couch singing into a spatula.
“What are you thinking…Hudson! Hudson!” I yelled to vent my panic.
Levi reached across the couch to pull the spatula from Hudson’s hands. He handed it over to me as a symbolic gesture of power transference. I took it and stood there looking even more like a housewife shrew as I waved it in the air and chastised my guest.
“This is not acceptable,” I said, mimicking the nanny from a popular reality show.
“You said you never cook. I didn’t figure it’d be a problem,” Hudson said, flipping his body down to the couch cushions and then propping himself up to a seated position. Levi joined Hudson on the couch. They sat there, old man and young man, awaiting their punishment.
“First of all, I have cooked. Well, I’ve engaged in cookish behavior and used this very spatula to scoop out double fudge frosting from a can. Second, Newton told me the music was too loud. What if he’d broken his ten-year record by leaving the front desk and coming upstairs? Did you think of that while you were…what? What was that? My eyes cannot convey to my brain something logical, so you’ll have to explain it. Levi, what on earth are you doing here?”
At first their faces were stern and frozen as they took in my rant. But once I had finished they both broke out laughing. They laughed so hard for so long that I turned the music back on and stormed into the bedroom. The bed was made and the room was clean. Maybe Hudson had a few principles of polite refuge behavior. I sat on the edge of the bed and tapped my toe to the still-loud music. As I weighed the decision to either go back out to the living room or to hold my sulky ground here in the bedroom, the music was turned down and I heard a knock on the door. It was Hudson. I looked up at him and shrugged. It was my way of apologizing.
“Cookish?” He said, laughing.
I smiled and shrugged again.
He came over and sat beside me. “Sorry.”
I whispered, “Is Levi still out there?”
“No. I sent him home.”
I shook my head several times. “How do you turn ‘be on your best hermit behavior’ into an opportunity to invite a stranger into the apartment for a private rave?”
“I have an explanation. I’m a person of reason despite tabloid headlines of the past. I found this in my jacket, from that first day.” Hudson reached over to the bookcase and retrieved the wadded up Post-it Note I had grabbed off my door.
“The note from Newton?”
“No. It’s a note from Levi.” He handed it to me. The message was in tiny, precise handwriting: Don’t forget, the Bible study is every Thursday at 7:00 p.m. Join us if you are ever interested. We serve brownies. Levi, 310C.
I looked over at Hudson for further explanation. I prompted him for real answers instead of decoy sticky notes. “So you found this note in your jacket, read it, and had a hankerin’ for brownies?”
“Levi lived here back when I did. He was sort of a father figure for the three of us. I went to a few of those Bible studies back then too. The guy witnessed to me often. Not always with words, but in how he would treat me.”
“That’s amazing,” I said with sincerity. “Such a small world. Did you guys play air guitar during those Bible studies?” I was teasing him, but my spirit stirred with excitement over this unfolding faith story. Hudson was full of surprises.
He moved to the floor, where he sat cross-legged with his back against the wall. “Levi was one of the local music scene pioneers. He was in a couple bands that never caught national attention, but he was known as the guy for any music connection you needed…musicians, clubs, agents, labels, whatever. He was basically a legend.”
“And he was a Christian? Talk about living a double life.”
“Actually, he stepped out of the scene when he became a Christian. When I first got some band play, there was already a buzz about him ‘going Jesus.’ The up-and-comers kinda steered away from him, and he initially stepped away from them. But lots of the big names still sought him out.”
“Like who?” I was fascinated by this story.
“Probably anyone you heard of who went national still worked with Levi.”
“Did he have to step away from it like that?”
“Ya gotta understand the drugs and recklessness that were part of everything then. He made the choice. And then after about six months, he started being more of a presence again, but his mission was more to be a mentor and share his faith along the way.”
“I’m surprised the little guy didn’t get beat up.”
Hudson laughed. “There were probably some who would’ve. But mostly, there was reverence for the guy. He was a gifted musician and everybody respected that, so they let him do his thing.”
“You met in the building?”
“Yeah. Levi was getting together that weekly Bible study, mostly for interested musicians, and a friend of his who knew me from a couple gigs mentioned that I lived in his building. Between work shifts and playing clubs, we were hardly around this place, but Levi watched for us one night and told us to come to the study sometime.”
“Did you go?”
He shook his head. “Not initially. I pulled a Libby, you could say. I started up those stairs on several Thursday nights, but as soon as I heard someone else coming up, I’d take off down the hall and pretend to be looking for my keys.”
“Pulled a Libby,” I snarled, feigning complete indignation.
“Back to my story…finally I went. It freaked me out because going to that meeting and possibly running into other musicians would be worse than joining AA.”
“But if other musicians are there, wouldn’t that make it acceptable?”
“No. But Levi knew what he was doing. He told everyone who went there that it was totally about exploring faith. ‘No obligation to buy’ he would say. And we all made a covenant agreement to not ‘out’ anyone until they were comfortable with it.”
“I want to be more honest with myself and everyone about my deepest beliefs,” I said. I was about to tell him about the time Cecilia saw my Bible on my desk when I noticed his raised eyebrows. “Oh, sorry. Back to your story. How long did you go?”
“For the better part of a year. Then Torrid started getting serious attention, and I stepped away. After that I felt bad and would avoid Levi. He was a good man and the mentor I needed, and I let him down.”
“The man joined you for a session with cooking utensils. He’s forgiven you.”
“Libby, you should have seen his face when he opened the door and saw me today.” Hudson closed his eyes and shook his head.
He was emotional. I got choked up too. I could imagine what a great reunion that was. After wiping his nose, Hudson said, “The guy looked at me for three seconds and then just grabbed me and hugged me.”
I had to laugh when I thought of little Levi hugging Hudson. He probably came up to Hudson’s chest.
“
We talked for a long time and then I invited him back here. I didn’t want to be gone in case you called me or returned early. I knew you’d freak.”
“Good decision after all.”
“This is all too weird to take in.”
“We both needed to see some reason for this entire clandestine situation,” I said.
“I definitely did. The strangest part for me is how someone like Cecilia is actually responsible for me reconnecting to my faith and music mentor right now. That has to be God. Cecilia was nice enough to me, but the woman had a guy give her a pedicure during our chapel service at the center. She’s not exactly spiritual.”
“Cecilia! Dang. I need to leave again,” I said, jumping up off the bed. I had forgotten about meeting Rachel at Cecilia’s apartment. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll bring you dinner after I run this errand. Any requests?” I looked around for my backpack. I would need a way to load up the items on Cecilia’s list.
“After I told Levi about our hiding out, he offered to bring us some of his homemade fried chicken tonight. I’ll save you some.”
“Levi wouldn’t say anything, would he? In his former circles, this news would be more than a big deal.”
“He’s the most discreet guy I know. He did warn me about the manager here. I guess he’s nosey. I’ll stick with the cousin bit if he comes around, although—”
“What?”
“I have this strong nudge to get the ball rolling on revealing my identity. I need to step up, take the flack for my absence, and move on.”
“Cecilia has a plan in motion,” I reassured my private rocker instead of following the strong nudge in my own heart to inform him of the pending lawsuit. I sure hoped Cecilia was doing the right thing.
“Do you think there’s a way to pull off my return to the spotlight that also showcases the band and doesn’t tick off the fans?” Hudson asked passionately. “If nobody sees my sincerity now, I’m doomed. Maybe I should talk to Cecilia about this. One bad move and the band might think I’m trying to steal their thunder.”
“Believe me. Whatever Cecilia is doing…she is focused on succeeding. This is her return to the spotlight too.”