Emily

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Emily Page 22

by Jack Weyland


  “Can I have your frosting?” she asked.

  “Sure, help yourself. Oh, by the way, you sure eat a lot.”

  She might have been offended by him saying so, but they had become good enough friends that she didn’t mind.

  “Well, thanks for noticing,” she said.

  He realized he’d made a mistake. “I’m sorry. It’s not that you’re fat, or anything. I just couldn’t help noticing that—”

  She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s from when I was in the hospital. Burn victims have to really stuff it in because the body needs so much energy to rebuild itself.”

  “You can have my frosting anytime then.”

  “Thanks. It’s a deal.”

  He formed an assembly line, scraping the frosting off his Oreos and stockpiling the white paste on a plate for her to eat later on.

  “Guess what?” she said. “I’ve found a way to be more accessible to the girls in my ward.”

  “How?”

  “The secret is not to look busy. If I look busy, girls with problems won’t come to talk to me. So I’ve turned a lot of the details of conducting our meetings over to my counselors. And I just go around looking like I’ve got all the time in the world.”

  “Does it work?”

  “Yeah, it does. You know what I’ve found out? Everyone has problems. And you know what else? If I can talk with a girl about her problems and, you know, just let her share them with me, then things don’t seem so bleak to her.”

  “That’s really good, Emily.”

  “I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

  “No, not at all. You should see the way your eyes light up when you talk about Relief Society.”

  “What would you rather talk about?” she asked.

  “Do you have a ward list with pictures? Maybe you could fill me in on each girl as we go through it.”

  “You pretty much have a one-track mind, don’t you?”

  He smiled. “Yep, that’s me, all right.”

  She got her ward directory and began paging through it.

  “Wow, what about her?” Austin asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “How come? She’s kind of cute.”

  “She’s not your type.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Just trust me, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He turned the page and scanned the pictures. “How about this one?”

  Emily shook her head. “She just got engaged.”

  “I can see why. She’s really beautiful.”

  Emily nodded. “That’s important to you, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “No reason. How about her?”

  Austin studied the girl’s picture. “So, how come she wears glasses?”

  “Well, this is just a guess, but I’d say to improve her vision.”

  “What I mean is, why isn’t she wearing contacts? I’m not sure I trust a girl who wears glasses.”

  Emily shook her head. “Please tell me you’re not serious.”

  “Let me go through this for you: The thing is, a girl who wears glasses when she could just as easily wear contacts is making a statement about herself.”

  Emily looked totally confused. “And that statement would be what?”

  “It’s . . . I don’t care what you think, I’m not going to wear contacts just because they’d make me look better.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “Not necessarily. I just worry that, if I married someone like that, she wouldn’t be willing to change.”

  “Oh, I see, you expect the woman you marry to do all the changing? Austin, that is so egotistical.”

  “I suppose.” Austin turned the page. “Whoa! What about her?”

  “She’s a freshman.”

  “So?”

  “I know you don’t want to date freshman girls.”

  “Well, okay, I did have one bad experience, but I’d be willing to try it again. I mean, she’s really not too bad. Oh, one thing, is she taller than you?”

  “I think so.”

  “That’s good. I like ’em tall.”

  “If you want someone who’s tall, we’ve got a girl who’s six-foot-three.”

  He shook his head. “Not that tall. Tell me about the freshman. My gosh, what a face. She’s spectacular.”

  “She’s younger than most freshmen. In fact, I think she skipped a grade. So she’s probably, what, seventeen?”

  “Well, that’s pretty young, but, hey, at least she’s in college, so that counts for something, right?”

  Emily shook her head. “I can’t believe you’d be willing to date a girl that young.”

  “It’s kind of like the draft in the NBA. When they open the bidding for the nation’s best college players, the better they are, the sooner they get taken.”

  “I see,” she said quietly, closing the ward directory. “Physical beauty’s really important to you, I guess.”

  Austin nodded. “Well, yeah. Why not? But I’d want her to be spiritual too.”

  “Really? And what do you suppose will have made the girl of your dreams become spiritual? Always being the favored one in every social setting? Being happy every day? Never having to endure a difficult experience? Is that what you think fosters spirituality?”

  “I see your point. Okay, what I mean by spiritual is that she graduated from seminary and that she’s living Church standards.”

  “Well, that should be easy to find.” Emily wasn’t smiling as she tucked the ward directory under the phone-book in the kitchen.

  “We’re not all the way through the directory yet.”

  Emily turned away. “Austin, I’ve got a headache, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to take it easy for a while.”

  “Tomorrow then?” Austin asked.

  “Whatever. Can you let yourself out? Good night, Austin.”

  * * * * *

  Emily, who loved every girl in the ward, and who had even gone with some of them to meet with the bishop for the help that only he could give them, now also needed her bishop.

  It was easy to get an appointment to meet with him. She thought he would think it was about one of the other girls in the ward. But it wasn’t. This time, it was about her.

  She told him about her friendship with Austin, and then said, “He wants me to pick out a girl from the ward for him to date.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “It wasn’t at first, but now it is.”

  “How come?”

  She didn’t want to say it. “I care about him in a different way now.”

  “More than just friends?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Does he know that?”

  “No, it would scare him off if I told him.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He likes pretty girls. I don’t blame him. The fact is, I have nothing to offer Austin.”

  “You’re good friends though, so how can you say you have nothing to offer him?”

  She couldn’t look the bishop in the eye, and she wasn’t sure she could tell him how she felt. “I’d better go now, Bishop. I know how busy you are.”

  “I have all the time in the world for you.”

  Several long moments passed as she struggled to decide how much to say. She’d seen this before, with the girls she’d talked to, reluctant to admit they weren’t perfect, embarrassed to open up their inner world to outsiders. Well, she thought, now it’s my turn.

  “Emily, please, I want to help, but you have to tell me what’s bothering you.”

  She wanted to be strong, to act out the role she had created for herself, of always giving and never needing anything. But the dam was full, and she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She began to cry.

  Bishop Cameron came around the desk and sat next to her and, gently, because he didn’t want to hurt her, patted her on the back.

  It took a long time before she could confess the one thing she had never
told anyone before. “I have nothing to offer.”

  “That’s not true. You have a great deal to offer.”

  “I mean, to a man.”

  The bishop cleared his throat. “You mean if that man were your husband?”

  “Yes, that’s what I mean,” she said softly, her hands covering her face.

  “I don’t know how to respond to that, Emily. I’m not a doctor.”

  “It’s not medical.”

  “What is it then?”

  “I’m so ugly now.”

  “Emily, that’s not true. You’re beautiful to me and to all the girls in the ward. My gosh, Emily, you’ve done such a tremendous job, reaching out to the girls who would otherwise feel left out. You have such a gift.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. I want Austin to desire me physically, too. Is that so wrong?” She began to cry even harder.

  Bishop Cameron didn’t have an immediate answer. He sat quietly, praying to know what to say. Emily went on.

  “Austin wants me to help him find a wife. That’s not easy to do when you love someone. I think you should release me as Relief Society president.”

  “What for?”

  “Because at first I could concentrate all my efforts to helping the girls, but now it’s different.”

  “Why is it different now?” he asked.

  “Because I like Austin too much.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Emily, let’s be realistic. You’ve done so much in your calling. But the truth is you don’t have to be a miracle worker. Okay? Try being just average for a little while. That’ll be plenty good enough.”

  “You’re not going to release me?”

  “No, I’m not. You’re the one Heavenly Father wants to watch out for the girls in our ward. You’re doing a fantastic job.”

  “All right,” she said softly. “What about Austin?”

  “For now, all you can do is to continue to be his friend.”

  * * * * *

  On Friday night, Austin cringed as he got out of the car to pick up his date. He knew this wasn’t going to work out. “I definitely don’t want to date a returned missionary,” he’d told Emily when she’d first suggested he take out Helen.

  She’d cut him in two with her answer: “You can’t keep dating freshman girls all the time, Austin. You don’t want a relationship between equals. You just want to be idolized. Well, that’s not right. It’s time to face reality. Besides, I’ve run out of freshman girls.”

  “That’s not true—I’m pretty sure you’re hiding some of them from me,” he complained.

  “That’s because they’re not right for you. It’s either Helen or nothing.”

  And so he was now about to enter a new dimension— dating someone a little older than he was.

  Helen was a returned missionary who had discovered on her mission that all elders are not equally valiant. It had made her skeptical of guys, and she wasn’t easily impressed. Emily had known that but thought it would be good for Austin to have to earn her respect.

  Physically, Helen met all of Austin’s requirements, although at just an inch shorter than he, she was perilously close to being too tall. He would have preferred her to be slightly shorter. She wore her long, blonde hair natural. When she came to the door, Austin couldn’t help thinking she looked like an ancient Nordic warrior. He could imagine her standing in the bow of a ship, her sword raised, as she and her comrades were about to board an enemy vessel.

  “So what have you got in mind for tonight?” she asked as they drove off.

  “I thought we might go to a movie.”

  “What for?”

  Austin was stumped. He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s what people do on dates.”

  He drove past the theater looking for a place to park.

  “That movie is R-rated,” she said, glancing at the marquee of the movie theater.

  Austin shook his head. “It can’t be.”

  “It is. I don’t go to R-rated movies.”

  “And you think I do?” he asked.

  “You’re the one who drove us here.”

  Austin backed up and looked at the rating on the sign over the box office window. Sure enough, it was R-rated.

  “I didn’t know it was R-rated,” he said.

  “Maybe that’s true, and maybe it isn’t.”

  “I’m telling you, I didn’t know. They must have just changed the movie.”

  “You can look things like that up in a newspaper, you know,” she said.

  “I am fully aware of the value of newspapers, okay?”

  “So now what are we going to do?” she asked.

  Austin desperately wanted to get her into a movie, so they wouldn’t have to talk. “We’ll find another movie.”

  “I see. Well, I can hardly wait to see what you come up with next.”

  The pressure was too much for Austin, and he cracked. “Oh, sure, it’s all up to me, right? And all you have to do is shoot me down every time I come up with a new idea? Is that the way it is with you?”

  “You’re just mad at me because I wouldn’t go to some stupid R-rated movie with you.”

  “I told you that I didn’t know the movie here was R-rated.”

  “Actually, I don’t even want to go to a movie.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to have a talk with you,” she said, sounding like his third-grade teacher.

  “Man to man?” he asked sarcastically.

  “Sure, if that’s what it takes. See that restaurant? Let’s go there and get something to drink. Oh, one thing, I only drink diet.”

  “Yes, dear,” he muttered. This is the last time I’m ever going to have Emily line me up with a returned missionary! he thought. Man, what I’d give for a freshman girl right now. I’d speak a little Vietnamese; maybe talk about serving in the mission office. And she’d tell me just how wonderful I am. That’s what a date should be. Not this. Not Helga the Nordic warrior.

  Because Austin wanted the fastest possible service, they sat at the counter.

  After the waitress left with their order, Helen began: “Girls in the ward talk. We know you’ve got Emily looking for a girl for you. We just don’t understand why you aren’t dating her when you’re such good friends. Is it just because she was in a fire? Are you really that insensitive and shallow?”

  Austin flagged down their waitress. “Ma’am, could you make those drinks to go?”

  He turned to Helen. “I’d better get you home. You probably have things to do. I mean, the night’s still young—there must be other guys you can shoot down before the evening’s over.”

  “You do realize that Emily’s in love with you, don’t you?”

  “You’re crazy. We’re just friends.”

  “She’d do anything for you—even help you find a girl to marry, just because you asked her to. That’s how much she loves you.” Helen shook her head. “Personally, I don’t know what she sees in you, but we’d probably better not get into that.”

  “She’s not in love with me, okay? We’re just friends.”

  “Everyone in the ward knows it. Why don’t you?”

  The waitress brought their drinks to the counter. Austin paid for them, then escorted Helen to the car. He just wanted to get rid of her.

  As soon as the car stopped by her apartment, Helen opened the door by herself and got out.

  He followed her to her door. “I like Emily as a friend, but nothing more serious than that.”

  She turned around. “Fine, I can understand that. But, you know, that’s why people agree to see each other exclusively, to see what will come of their being together,” she said. “I need to go now. Thanks for the drink.” She looked down at the plastic cup. “Like I said, though, I would’ve preferred diet.”

  “I got you diet,” he complained.

  She took another sip. “This is not diet.”

  “You can’t tell the differenc
e just by tasting. Nobody can.”

  “I can. And I’m telling you, this is not diet. Let me taste yours. Maybe it’s diet. Maybe the waitress switched the cups by mistake.” She reached for his cup.

  He put out his hand. “No, get away.”

  “What?”

  He scowled. “I don’t want you getting your germs all over my drink.”

  “Well, answer me this then, does yours taste like diet?”

  “Look, could we just change the subject?”

  “Sure, anything you say.” She gave him a superior smile. “How many baptisms did you have on your mission?”

  “Well,” he stammered, “if you count the ones who got baptized right after I was transferred—”

  She scoffed. “They don’t count—everybody knows that.”

  “How many did you have?” he asked.

  “Thirty-three. What about you?”

  A long pause. “Less than that.”

  She snorted. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Hey, think about what I said, okay?”

  Surprisingly, even though his worst nightmare was being on an endless date with Helen, Austin couldn’t stop thinking about what she had said about Emily.

  On Saturday he went to the Logan Temple. After the endowment session, he lingered in the celestial room. Being in the temple had made him think about the direction his life was going. He wasn’t entirely happy with his focus and the things that had become important to him. Everything was so clear to me at the end of my mission. I thought about the Savior all the time.

  What have I learned from all this? Or have I learned anything? And what would be worse, to go through my life taking the Savior for granted, or to know how important he is but never let that knowledge make a difference in how I live my life?

  I need to decide what I want. Would I rather be rich and powerful and struggling to find meaning in my life, or poor, yet having my life centered in the Savior?

  He stepped into the hall and paused in front of a painting of the Savior that was hanging on the wall. Emily and I are a lot alike. We’ve both grown because of what we’ve gone through. Of course the disappointments I had in the mission field are nothing compared to what she has had to endure. But our experiences led both of us to the Savior.

  I feel good when I’m with Emily. She’s a good friend, not only to me, but to Don. I’m glad she introduced me to him. He’s an amazing guy.

 

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