by S. M. Smith
“Jessie, I-“
“Don’t. Don’t tell me you don’t understand because you already told me you do.” He shakes his head, eyes wide like he doesn’t have the faintest of clues. “Our first date, lunch at the café. I told you that I am waiting, that my fiancé cheated because I am waiting and you looked me in the eye and told me you understood. And now.” The tears have flooded my face and every emotion I’ve felt since the night I found Jake and Maddy is there again. I can barely breathe, let alone talk.
He tries to put his hand on my shoulder and I jerk back and head for the foyer.
“Jessie, look, I’m sorry,” he says as he follows me. “I got the wrong impression and I’m sorry. Please stop so we can talk about this.” I stop, not because I want to talk to him, but because I can’t see anything. So he takes it as a signal to continue, “I didn’t really understand how slowly you wanted to take things. And when you kissed me tonight, I let my mind run wild with what I thought you’d be comfortable with. Obviously, I misunderstood. Listen, I’m willing to wait until you’re ready, whenever that might be, and if it’s not tonight, then it’s not tonight.”
I pick up my head and try to clear my face and head. Am I reading more into his intentions than what was really there? Am I so broken that I had to jump to the worse possible conclusion whenever something went wrong? And undoubtedly, this had gone wrong, but is it as simple as a misunderstanding? I can’t afford the time not to find out. With a heavy sigh, I turn to face him.
“It’s not tonight. And it won’t be the next time I kiss you. My commitment is for the night I stand before God and family, committing myself to forever with someone. If you can’t handle that, then we need to reconsider our relationship.”
He makes the few strides forward so he’s standing directly in front of me. He wipes a tear from my cheek and then kisses it lightly.
“Then it’s not tonight. Or the next time we kiss, or next week or next month. I understand that now.”
“Thank you. Can you be okay with that?”
He tilts my chin up so that I’m looking straight into his eyes.
“I think I can be okay with that.” He smiles but doesn’t try to kiss me and I’m grateful for that. “I’m not ready to say goodnight to you though. Will you please stay?” His eyes plead me to not go. His hand moves to find mine and I let him lead me back to the living room.
“So can I assume that this is some religious commitment you’ve made?” he doesn’t sound condescending at all, he sounds curious. He sits back down in one corner of the couch, giving me the space I definitely need.
“Yes, and no. I mean, yes in that remaining a virgin until you’re married is something the Bible tells us to do. I believe that God meant sex to be more than what society has made it to be today. But on a personal level, it’s more. I’ve seen that in order to know if a relationship is really going to last, there needs to be more than sex. I’ve had too many friends who let their carnal desires get in the way of forming meaningful relationships.” I set my hands in my lap, trying not to go on a verbal diatribe. Caleb just sits there looking thoughtful of me. I can see in his eyes that he’s processing my thoughts, so I take up my glass and get a sip of wine to help calm my nerves.
“What about you?” I ask quietly. “Do you have any strong beliefs or promises you’ve made yourself?”
He rubs a finger around the rim of his glass, stalling. I can be a patient person when I need to be, so I just wait until he’s ready to open up. When he finally looks up, I see a deep sadness in his eyes.
“Right after my dad died, my mom found her solace in a church. This church was very focused on things like what not to wear, say or do. Everything that wasn’t aligned with God was work of the Devil and you had to repent for letting the devil get to your heart. My mom bought into it all.” He shifts, so that his feet are back on the ground, and leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees. Clearly he’s uncomfortable with these memories.
“I can remember the first time I told her I wanted to stay a night with a friend. I was ten and it was a harmless birthday party. The family wasn’t a member of the church, so she wouldn’t let me go because I’d miss church services the next day. I didn’t go to the party, but she told my Sunday school teacher that I wanted to miss the service. He called me out in front of all the other kids and told me how disappointed God was in me that I didn’t want to come and hear his teachings. I was a ten year old boy who just wanted to go to a birthday party.” He stops to take a sip of his wine before continuing. “It went all downhill from there. I told her I didn’t like my teacher after that and not only did he show up for dinner that night, but so did the preacher. Over an hour of them telling me how the devil was trying to keep me from letting God into my heart and just brow beating me over and over again about how I needed to repent of my sins, I was exhausted. From that night on, I did everything in my power to fly under the radar with those people. I worked my ass off in high school to get the grades I needed to get a scholarship. I participated in everything the church would overlook, which wasn’t much. I barely got away with playing basketball and earned a full ride to play for KU. They didn’t approve of my wanting to go to a secular college, so I had to hide my acceptance and scholarship excitement from them and my mom. The day I graduated high school, my bags were packed, I moved out and I didn’t look back.
“My mom was a kind, gentle woman before my dad died. She laughed and would play with us, and was fairly carefree.” He smiles at his early memories of her. “But the church changed her into a fearful woman, a woman consumed by always doing what someone else told her was right. She knew right from wrong well before she met anyone from that church, and how she could think that their extremes were so right….I just don’t understand what she’s ever seen in something like that.
“Anyway, be true to yourself. That’s my belief, my promise. It may not seem as noble as being able to save yourself for marriage, but it helped me get away from all that, and it helped me get to where I am today. So…” He just stares at his glass.
“I think it’s just as noble,” I tell him from my corner. I reach forward and place my hand gently on his arm. He looks up at me with wounded eyes, causing my anger from earlier to melt away.
“I’m really sorry about earlier,” he tells me again quietly. He reaches up and pulls my hand from his arms to his lips.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’m sorry that a church broke up a relationship between you and your mom. Churches should be helping rebuild relationships, not breaking them down through fear and persecution.”
“It is what it is.” He shrugs. He finishes his glass of wine before scooting back to his corner. “I can’t say there wasn’t damage done, but I can say I don’t and won’t let it get me down. She chose her path and I mine; we’ll just have to see if they can ever merge again.”
I admire his ability to be strong about it. I can’t imagine a life without my dad. Just the thought of not seeing or talking to him brings a tear to my eye. I wipe it away before Caleb sees it though and check the time.
“I really ought to get going,” I say, setting a nearly full glass of wine on the table. He stands and offers me his hand to help me up, and I let him hold it as we walk back toward the front door. I’m not sure what to say after all that so I stand awkwardly at the door for a brief moment.
“Thank you, again, for a really great evening,” I finally manage to squeak out. He rubs his thumb over my knuckles.
“Thank you for going with me.” He drops my hand again and opens the door for me. I step outside and start to head toward the car.
“By the way,” he calls out to me just as I’m unlocking my door, “did I mention how stunning you look tonight?” I smile at the compliment, regardless of the tears that are still leaking down my face.
“Only thirteen times,” I reply as I climb into my car.
***
Caleb sends flowers to the office just before lunch the following Monday and Daphne i
s like the Flash in trying to find out what the “I’m truly sorry” card means.
“It was a misunderstanding,” I tell her from behind my laptop monitor, trying to ignore her and focus on my work.
“It must have been a HUGE misunderstanding for you to be getting orchids.” She stands with her hands on her hips, gawking at the enormous bouquet. Still holding her stance, she marches toward me and stares, obviously not moving until she gets some answers.
“I kissed him at the fundraiser.” I click away, trying to edit as she just stands there staring blankly at me.
“And… what? He’s a horrible kisser?” I peek over my monitor and roll my eyes at her. Clearly I’m not going to get to focus on my work until she gets what she wants.
“And-well he got the wrong impression from what me kissing him meant.” I close my laptop and pick up my coffee. It had grown cold so I stand up to head toward the microwave in the conference room. Daphne, trudging around in heels herself today, almost marches behind me in frustration.
“Jess, I don’t think I fully understand what you mean by him getting the wrong-“ Clarity hits her square in the face and leaves a deer in the headlights look in return. “Oh…well…you didn’t did you? He didn’t?”
“No!” I’m slightly appalled that she thought I would sleep with Caleb, but at the same time, can understand why she’s asking. The microwave dings, signaling that my coffee is ready so I take it out and take a sip.
“Well that explains those.” She looks disgustedly at my mustard colored flats. She calls them my recovery flats because she seems to think I only like to wear them when I’m in a defeated kind of mood. I’m normally in no mood to defend them whenever she brings them up so she may be right. “But why the expensive flowers?”
“Because he’s Caleb and he does things extravagantly.” I march myself back into my office and start to close the door before she stops me.
“If you want to talk about it, I’m here, you know.”
“I know.” I look her square in the eyes and shut the door. I just want to move on because frankly I’m too embarrassed by the entire situation to talk about it.
I reopen my laptop to try to work on more edits, but I’m totally distracted. I don’t know where Caleb and I stand now. Surely sending flowers means that you still care enough to continue the relationship, but what if this is part of Caleb’s way of carefully breaking up with me?
I’m staring at my computer screen not an hour later, sitting back in my seat with my cup of coffee in between my hands when there’s a knock at my door. I look up to find Daphne opening my door and am about to tell her to give it a rest when she swings it open to let Caleb in.
Immediately my mind goes to the mess my office is in. There are papers laying haphazardly all over my desk and camera bags tossed forgotten on the couch and broken lighting equipment piled up in the corner next to my window. Caleb hasn’t ever actually come to my office before and well, there goes any first impressions I might have wanted.
Daphne lets him into my office, but she’s giving him the stink eye behind his back. I nod at her and thank her, but I can see through the glass pane that runs the side of the door that she stands just outside it ready to come in should she hear any foul play. I just smile and shake my head at her.
“I’m sorry to bother you at work, I just-“
“It’s okay. I don’t have a shoot until this afternoon, so I’m just helping out where I can for now. What’s up?” I gesture for him to sit on the couch, before I realize that the bags take up most of the seats, so I hastily try to move them. But he grabs my hands and pulls me up to look at him.
“Jessie.” The way he says my name causes me to exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “I’m so sorry about the other night. I really am.”
“It’s okay, really.”
“I just…I was concerned that…Well we didn’t really speak the rest of the weekend and-“ He is stammering, stumbling over his words. He is really cute when he isn’t so poised.
“Caleb, I said it’s okay. You don’t need to overthink it. Mistakes happen. Everything is fine.”
“Are you sure? I want you to be comfortable around me and-“ I don’t think about where we are or who might see, I just reach my hands to his face and pull him in to kiss him. It isn’t nearly as hot as the kisses we exchanged at or after the fundraiser, but it does the job. After his initial shock, he relaxes and slides his hands to my hips. He pulls me closer to him and I wrap my arms around his neck. When I step back, his face is entirely flushed from my attack.
“Well…” He stands up and straightens his purple tie. “Can I take that as you would be open to having lunch with me then?” He smiles at me.
I look down at my plain black slacks and simple cotton shirt, not nearly as elegant as he looks. Having read my mind, he pulls my chin up with his index finger.
“You look great. And if it will make you feel better…” He starts to pull on the tie he just straightened, yanking it completely free of his collar. He finishes with a look you get from a five year old boy who just accomplished something great, making me giggle.
***
“So I was wondering what your plans are for Thanksgiving?” I ask just after we sit down at the small pizzeria a few minutes from the studio. Thanksgiving is right around the corner and since we have been dating almost two months, I think it might be the right time for him to meet my dad.
“I’m going to see my sister in London actually.”
“Oh.” After hearing his story the other night, I wasn’t expecting him to have many plans. He hasn’t even mentioned he has a sister.
“Why? What were you thinking?” he asks, with a smug curiosity.
“Well, I was actually thinking that it might be a good opportunity to meet my dad.” That apparently isn’t what he is expecting me to say.
“I’m sorry. I would love to but I’ve already bought my ticket and she’s been talking nonstop about my visit since I originally told her about it.”
My heart sinks a little. My family is important to me, so I don’t want to be disappointed that he is going to spend time with his, but I can’t help it.
“So do you have any other siblings?”
“No, it’s just me and Allison,” he answers shortly before taking a sip of water. He leans back and messes with his already loose collar.
“I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about your family, that’s fine. We don’t have to talk about your family-“ The reflective look on his face says that he doesn’t really want to talk about his family again, so I just put my hands in my lap and fidget with my napkin instead.
Our food arrives and Caleb looks like he’s been pulled out of memory lane, making us both seem to feel a little better. The waitress asks us if she can get us anything else and we tell her no before he turns back to me.
“When I get back, I will save a weekend for meeting your family. I promise.”
“Ok.” I can settle for that.
“So tell me a little about your family. What is your dad like?”
“Well, he’s a kind man, very patient. But I think that comes with the territory.” Caleb’s eyebrows rise with an unspoken question since he has a mouthful of pizza. “My dad is a pastor at my church back home.” That mouthful of pizza nearly chokes him as he digests this.
“A preacher,” he coughs out, taking a sip of water. “I would never have pegged you for a preacher’s kid.”
“What do you mean?” I do my best to maintain the appropriate image for my dad. He’s dealt with some pretty rough stuff being in his position and I have always only wanted to make things easier for him.
“Well, I’ve known my fair share of PKs and…well let’s just say they are nothing like you.” He smiles as if that is a good thing, and understanding hits me.
“Oh. Yeah, I’ve never really been the rebellious type.”
“So I’ve guessed.” He winks at me.
“Our church is pretty big for the area we live
in. Everyone comes from a farming community and when your wellbeing depends on the weather and what ‘city folk’ want for your products, times can be tough. Not to mention that since that community is so tight knit, everyone knows your business. I learned that the hard way when my mom got sick. Because she was sick, my dad and I lived in a glass house, where everyone watched every move we made. Between that and trying to help other people with their problems, my dad didn’t need me going off and turning into some party animal. So I made my vow of purity and have kept my nose clean as much as I can. Aside from a glass of wine or two, and a recent night of clubbing,” I say with a smile, hoping he gets my reference. “I don’t even drink really.”
“Wow. So you don’t have any siblings then? I assume, since you didn’t mention any other wild children,” he says playfully.
“No, it’s just me. My mom’s cancer started as uterine; she had a ton of problems after having me when trying to get pregnant so eventually they just stopped.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t really imagine a life without my sister.”
“It’s okay, actually. When I was seven, this family with only one child moved into the farmhouse next to ours. Since they moved in, our families have been very close. Mr. Cahill started working at the church shortly after they moved in and so we’ve just always been together; holidays, birthdays, when my mom died. Stephen and I grew up as if we were siblings.” I chuckle to myself remembering some of the stuff we got into. “We were always getting into trouble. The good kind.” I add when he gives me a suspicious look.
“There’s a good kind of trouble?” he asks.
“Yeah, you know. The kind where you come in covered in mud after a good rainstorm leaves a giant water puddle in your backyard. Or when you accidentally leave a pen door open so you’re sent back out to chase all the chickens back into their coop.” He is laughing so hard, he’s barely breathing at this point.