Meeting Destiny (Destiny Series)

by Nancy Straight

  I was apprehensive of his offer, as I replayed our exchange in his car Saturday morning. Had he really accepted that I was no longer his girlfriend? Was he being considerate, or was this his way of inserting himself back into my daily routine? Not wanting to believe that he had an ulterior motive, but not wanting him to believe that there was a chance for reconciliation either, “Seth, you don’t have to take me to school. I called a cab.”

  “You what? Are you nuts? Come on, let’s get going or we’ll be late.”

  I needed to be as diplomatic as possible. I couldn’t afford to keep knifing him in the heart. I did care about him, but I knew in my heart that his feelings for me were not at all the same kind of love I had for him. When there was more distance between us, I hoped we could revert back to the easy friendship that we’d shared for so many years. “Seth, I don’t feel right asking you for a ride, I mean, given the circumstances.”

  “The circumstances? You mean like you dumping me? Don’t be an idiot, let’s go.”

  What was that? I think it was humor. Had he really accepted the fact that we weren’t a couple anymore, and he was really just offering a friend a ride to school? Two days was nowhere near enough time for it to be out of his system. He couldn’t possibly have a sense of humor about my breaking up with him, could he? Uncertain if he thought I was not serious about the break up or if he knew I was serious and had accepted it, I found my legs weren’t cooperating while my brain was trying to process.

  A strange smirk appeared on his face, not humor like before but more like frustration. “Lauren, we’re still friends, right? Friends can give friends rides, right?”

  Maybe I wasn’t confident, but willfully believing that this ride seemed to be offered with no strings attached, my legs finally cooperated, and I started hobbling in his direction. Seth took me by the elbow, guiding me ever so slightly toward the door. He threw my book bag over his shoulder and walked my snail’s pace out the door, down the steps and to his driveway. Seth helped me into the car, then closed my door and walked around to the driver’s side. He put the key in the ignition and started to back out of the driveway, then stopped and looked at me. “As long as you brought it up, have you had a chance to reconsider your breaking up with me?”

  My heart plummeted. I should have known. I’m sure this was some scheme that our mothers thought up. Why else would Mom mysteriously disappear the morning her daughter had to get to school after major surgery? I should have seen this one coming. Knowing I hadn’t cancelled the cab that was due any minute, I opened my door and started to get out.

  “Wait! I was just asking. Our conversation Saturday took me by surprise. You have to admit I’ve left you alone. I haven’t called or stopped by or even stared at your bedroom window. I’m just asking.” He paused for a few seconds then looked away from me, “It sounds like I know the answer. Don’t go. I’m happy as long as I am in your life, no matter how small a role I play.”

  With my hand still firmly on the door handle, my voice sounded strong, “Seth, I want you to date someone else. There are plenty of girls out there. Ask one of them out.”

  He looked back at me, this time all the humor drained, “Okay, I will, but can I have a little time to get used to you not being my girlfriend first? Seriously Lauren, it’s only been two days. You made this decision out of no-where. Last week we were talking about picking a grad school that we could both get into. I figured it was either the pain you were feeling or the medications you were on.”

  I nodded. My actions with Seth had been hasty, but prolonging the inevitable just seemed heartless. I remained in the car and closed the door, then phoned the cab company to cancel my ride. The whole way into school, Seth never once got out of line or asked anything that was remotely offensive. It wasn’t like he was giving me the silent treatment. I think he, too, just didn’t have a clue what to say.

  The school day was the longest on record. Trying to balance my bookbag while hobbling along on crutches in over-crowded hallways is not an experience I would recommend. I was frustrated with myself for not bringing my stupid wheelchair to school. I was used to having my leg elevated all the time, and now sitting in class made it throb. By noon I was ready to go home. I told my professor, and she was very sympathetic. When I called Mom and asked her to come get me, she was tied up in a meeting. I sat in the student union for the remainder of the class and used one of the couches as a pseudo bed long enough for the pain to subside a little, and then I went to my afternoon class.

  I had seen Seth several times throughout the day. He seemed to have accepted my decision and our few conversations weren’t strained. That afternoon Seth drove me home. As we pulled into the driveway, I was paying little attention to anything he had said in the car; my thoughts were consumed with Max, knowing that he would be here in an hour. My heart began to speed up as I thought of our few private minutes my last night in the hospital. Today, there would be no interruptions, no emergencies to respond to, no heart monitor, just the two of us; the more I replayed our few moments together, I felt that same lightheadedness coming on.

  I was snapped back to reality when Seth opened my door and offered me a hand out of the car. His hand caught me off guard; consciously I wasn’t even aware that we were back in his driveway. I took his hand, allowing him to pull me while I pushed myself out of the car with my other. As soon as I was upright, Seth slid one arm behind my back and his other behind my knees. I was airborne. “Congratulations, Lauren! You made it a whole day with no major spills. That’s an accomplishment without all the bandages.” I laughed out loud, not a giggle, but a heavy belly laugh, and leaned my head back staring up into the sky.

  After a few gentle twirls, Seth put both of my legs gingerly on the ground, and I leaned into him to make sure I wasn’t dizzy and gravity wouldn’t face-plant me in the yard. We stood there in the middle of the yard, both laughing while Seth tried to catch his breath. All the awkwardness that I had felt with Seth was suddenly gone in a shared silliness between two old friends.

  As we stood in a dizzy embrace with one another, I heard tires squealing. I looked into the street and saw a huge black jacked-up truck that had been parked across the street from my house leaving most of its rubber on the pavement. The smoke emanating from the tires left a dark black plume, and the burnt rubber smell was thick in the air.

  I had never seen the truck before on our street and commented, “What a jerk.” I had no idea who the driver was who had just raced down our street and was now flying around a corner a block away.

  I saw Seth smiling, not the silly smile and laughter we had shared a half a minute ago, but an deceitful smile, and he added quietly, “Yeah, what a jerk.”

  Seth helped me to my front door, handed me my book bag, and went to his house. I realized this was the first time in years he’d left me without saying his signature, “I miss you already.” The nostalgia wasn’t lost on me, but I was thrilled that we might have a shot at a regular friendship after all. I went inside, rushed to the bathroom to touch up my hair and make-up and stole a glance at the clock.

  At a few minutes before 5:00, I was as presentable as I could possibly be. I waited anxiously on the couch with one hand nervously on the curtain, checking every ten seconds or so to see if Max had pulled up. At 5:30, I decided to call Max to see if he was still coming. I got his voice mail, “Hi, Max, I thought you were coming to my house this afternoon?...If I screwed up the time, I’m sorry; I’ll try back in a little bit. I think the house phone number is still blocked for incoming calls, so call my cell when you get this. I’ll talk to you soon.” After hanging up, my mood took a nose dive, and I sat in the quiet living room for about five minutes and tried his number again. I left another pathetic voice mail.

  This cycle continued for the next hour. After I realized I had now left Max six voice mails, all saying roughly the same thing, I decided I felt more like a stalker than a date and opted to try him tomorrow morning and see what had happened. I was sure he wouldn’t stop by th
is late because he had to work soon. Maybe he had gotten called into work early or something?

  Dejected, I took myself up to my room and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Those wonderful moments in the hospital didn’t flood over me the way they usually did. When Mom checked on me a little before 8:00 p.m., I told her I was exhausted from school and just planned to go to bed early. When sleep did finally come, I found myself in a dreamless sleep the whole night. My alarm sounded the next morning, and after I shut if off, my immediate inclination was to call Max. I resisted the urge to call him right away. I was sure he was still working, but I should be able to catch him about 7:30 a.m.

  I got ready for school, had a bite to eat, all the while keeping track of the time. As I stared at the clock on the wall, the minute hand hit the six making it exactly 7:30. I dialed Max’s number and was thrilled when he picked it up right away. “Hi, Max, it’s Lauren. What happened yesterday?”

  “Are you okay? Shouldn’t you be at school by now?” Max’s question surprised me, because it wasn’t an answer to mine. Did he not realize that he had stood me up yesterday? Worse yet, did he realize and not care?

  Not wanting to sound wounded, “Well, no, and you didn’t answer my question.”

  I heard a loud sigh, “Lauren, I’m going to go out of town for work for a couple months.”

  “Out of town for work, but you’re a paramedic. What do you mean?”

  His response was nearly monotone, not soothing and in no way trying to curb my anxiety. “There is this emergency responder course in New Orleans for three months, which starts tomorrow. My boss asked me if I wanted to go, and I thought it would be a good opportunity. I’ll be back the first of May.”

  “May? You’re leaving for three months? Today? But why?” I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, threatening to stream down my cheeks. Not wanting to sound pathetic, I did my best to add a frustrated tone to my last two words.

  “I just told you, it’s a good opportunity for me. One of the guys was supposed to go and had to cancel at the last minute. I told my boss I’d go.”

  Why would Max volunteer for a three month trip? This didn’t make any sense. Trying to steady myself as much as possible when I really wanted to curl up in a little ball, I asked, “Oh, well, is that why you couldn’t stop by yesterday?”

  Max didn’t answer, then after a very long pause I asked, “Did I lose you?”

  “No, I’m still here.”

  “Am I missing something? Why didn’t you come by yesterday? Were you tied up at work?”

  “Lauren, I was at your house yesterday. I was so stoked to see you that I showed up early. I saw you and Seth together in your front yard and was…I don’t know what I was, but I knew I had to leave.”

  “You were here and you didn’t say anything? Where?”

  “I was parked across the street from your house. I told you before I don’t want to be the guy who busts up you and your boyfriend. You and Seth are not as over as you led me to believe. “

  Panic overtook me when I realized he had driven that black truck that squealed its tires all the way down the street. “No, Max, really, that was nothing…Nothing! We broke up, I swear we broke up. I called a cab but Seth said he would give me a ride, no strings. You can call him if you don’t believe me. We really broke up! Max, don’t leave, please.”

  “Lauren, I didn’t say I was driving off of the face of the earth. I’m going out of town for a few months. I’ll be back the first week of May. This way I’ll know that it is really over between you two before I … before we start spending time together.”

  “Max, don’t go. I promise we broke up.” I could hear my voice pleading with him, and there was no way for me to mask the emotion. I needed him to understand that he hadn’t seen what he thought he had.

  “It’s three months. No pressure. I’ll see you when I get back.” His tone was resolute, Max had made up his mind well before now, and the panic I was feeling gave way to hurt. Max hung up the phone, and I was devastated. Max had been in my every waking thought since Thursday, and I had to wonder, if he could walk away so easily, had I really thought this through?

  I had convinced myself that he felt for me the way I felt for him. I sat on the couch for a long time. Seth came by to take me to school, but I told him I wasn’t feeling well. I went upstairs to my room and stayed the remainder of the day. I tried calling Max’s number hundreds of times, but he never answered my calls.

  The hours turned into days and the days turned into weeks. I tried calling Max several times a day that first week. By the second week I had weaned myself down to just calling once a day in the evening. Each time I left a voice mail asking him to call me, but he never did. By the third week of his absence he had already missed my twenty-second birthday and Valentine’s Day without so much as a card, a call or even a text. I felt so very irrelevant, I distanced myself from everything.

  Chapter Ten

  I wasn’t physically able to go back to work, so school was my only outlet to the rest of the world. The logical part of my mind was telling me I was in mourning over a person I had been with less than 30 minutes. It wasn’t possible for me to be this upset over someone I hardly knew, and the fact that he had made no contact with me at all just made me feel that much more isolated.

  Eventually, Seth got used to the idea that we weren’t going to become a couple again. He asked if I wanted to go to any end-of-year parties with him, but I said no. Dancing really wasn’t an option, and as graceful as I normally was coupled with my reliance on crutches - drinking was out of the question. I really felt like Seth would be better off hanging out with someone else. My heart was broken, but it had nothing to do with Seth. As weeks turned into months, I eventually stopped calling Max. After two months apart, many of my vivid memories started to become hazy. I wasn’t certain if I would ever see him again.

  I went through the entire month of March knowing I had let my future slip away because of a single innocent event. By late March, I stopped getting notes from strangers about the shooting, and I had sent out all the thank-you notes to well-wishers. The mother who had sent me twenty thousand dollars for jumping in front of her son turned out to be a very nice lady. I tried a couple times to give the check back, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She was adamant that I take the money, and after my parents talked to her, they agreed.

  My checking account balance was huge; being movement restricted, I didn’t find much of an opportunity to spend any of it. Every time Mom or Dad asked what my plans were for after graduation, I would remind them that job-seeking on crutches doesn’t leave the best first impression. It seemed like a waste of money to go onto grad school if I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. As long as we were talking about my money, I was going to know what my plan was well before I committed my own cash. Although their frustration was apparent, they didn’t push the subject. All my friends had already received their offer letters from employers and acceptance letters from graduate programs, unlike me who hadn’t even applied anywhere.

  I had decided to use some of the money for a car. In another couple months I wouldn’t be able to catch a ride with Seth where I needed to go. But car shopping while incapable of test driving was worse than a waste of time, it was a drag.

  As April arrived and graduation grew closer, I became a hermit. My leg was nearly healed, though I continued with my three appointments every week with the physical therapist. Ivan was just as ugly to me as ever.

  During my last appointment, she had me doing leg extensions on a new machine in her office. After ten repetitions on each leg, I was resting before my next set when she walked up behind me, in her usual warm manner, “Wonderful Lauren! Good job! Now that you have practiced your form, how about putting some weight on the machine?”

  Surprised at her compliment, I looked back at the weight selector and told her, “I just did 40 pounds.”

  “Congratulations, you can lift a bag of potatoes with your legs. I am soooo proud. Now, do
you want to be a grocer or do you want to be a fully functioning adult?” She reached for the selector bar and put it at 80. I wasn’t sure, but I guessed this was her idea of positive reinforcement.

  Other motivational compliments she gave me included: “No, take your time, I don’t mind that you waste my time. It’s more important that you take a break. I wouldn’t want you to exert yourself.” “This is too much work, it’s too hard; maybe you can pay someone to come do your therapy appointments for you?” And my all time favorite, “It’s okay, I think if we sprinkle fertilizer on your leg, the muscles will grow back on their own, and you won’t have to do anything.”

  She told me during my very first appointment in the hospital that in three months my legs would be stronger than they were before the shooting. I would never admit it to her, but she was right – her constant barrage of insults must have pushed the right buttons for me. I had to keep using crutches until my thirty-sixth appointment, but I could tell that I really didn’t need them even now.

  I found that I was really looking forward to summer, and had even talked to Wanda about returning to the restaurant. Everything seemed to be back to normal, with the exception of that huge hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

  Although my memories were no longer sharp, I had these images of Max – very outdoorsy. His brawn, with his happy-go-lucky attitude (at least from my brief exposure to him), his tanned skin even when I met him in February, always made me think of him in rugged venues. With as little as I knew about him, he could have just hit a gym with a tanning bed – but since the fantasies were mine, I saw him playing football in a park, tossing a Frisbee on a beach, and doing lots of other activities, but always outdoors.

  I hated that I had to rely on my imagination because I wasn’t all that imaginative. I had convinced myself that Max was more a figment of my imagination than a real person. This might have been my way of dealing with the rejection or whatever Max’s abrupt departure had been.