A Girl Worth Waiting For (The Worthy Series Book 1)

by S. M. Smith

  ***

  “This is Jessie,” I say into my headset from my desk phone.

  “Hey, kiddo. I’m sorry to bother you at work. I didn’t want to call your cell in case you were with a client or something.” His kind voice sounds pretty happy this morning.

  “You’re okay, Dad. What can I do for you this morning?”

  “Well, I wanted to let you know I heard from Caleb this morning.” I’m digging around my desk looking for my favorite pen, but stop dead in my tracks as I fully comprehend what he just said.

  “Caleb? Called you? This morning?” Apparently I can’t string together proper sentences for anything today.

  “He came to my office actually. We had a nice conversation. He apologized for yesterday and said that he didn’t mean to put you in the position he did. He really seems to have high regard for you and your patience.” He should. “He’s quite the handsome young man, and very well-mannered. I can see why you like him.”

  “That’s....hmmm.” I don’t know what to say. He traveled two hours this morning to meet my father on a Monday morning…while he was supposed to be at his precious job?

  “Listen, I don’t want to keep you and honestly, I have a meeting here in a few minutes. I just thought you’d like to know he came by,” he says kind of hurriedly.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I’m still so stunned, I haven’t moved yet.

  “I love you, kid.”

  “Love you too, Dad.”

  “Okay, have a great day.”

  “Yeah, you too.” I hit the release button on my phone and just sit back in my seat trying to really understand what had just happened.

  Daphne happens to be walking back to her desk from one of the back offices and stops, standing just inside my door.

  “Is everything okay?” she asks, serious concern invading her face.

  “Um, yeah,” I say shaking off the initial shock.

  “And your dad? Everything okay with him?” She double checks.

  “Uh…yeah. Apparently Caleb drove all the way to his office at the church this morning to introduce himself,” I say a little too slowly, still trying to wrap my head around the words myself.

  “Whoa!” Daphne says, almost as shocked as I am. “On a Monday mornin’?” she asks disbelievingly.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Hmm” is all she says as she backs out of the room, offering no assistance in processing.

  The jingle of the doorbell pulls me back to reality, reminding me I have plenty of work to do. So I try my hardest to get back on track. I have a shoot with some kiddos coming up fast that I need to prepare the studio for, and I’m afraid that the fog my head is in is going to ruin this shoot. I can’t afford to blow a shoot, so I decide to do my best to put everything on the back burner for now. In order to do so, I leave my cell phone on my desk and carry my camera and lenses up to the studio.

  I’m just finished looking for all the props I want and getting backgrounds ready when the phone next to the door rings.

  “Jessie, Mr. Jackson is dressed real fancy and is ready for his picture to be taken,” Daphne says, letting me know my clients have arrived.

  “Well, please tell Mr. Jackson I will be right down to get him then.”

  I take the elevator to the waiting room and retrieve the very energetic five-year-old, his mother and his baby sister. Jackson tells me all about pre-school and how he’s going to “grad-gee-ate” in May. He strikes pose after pose and has me and his mom laughing so hard our sides hurt by the time I’ve taken enough pictures.

  “Miss Jessie, I know the best jokes,” Jackson tells me as we all step into the elevator on our way back down to Daphne’s desk to schedule their viewing. “Would you like to hear my very best one?” he asks with great big eager eyes.

  “I would love to hear your very best joke,” I tell him, seeing his mom shaking her head, chuckling to herself.

  “What happened to the cow when he jumped over the fence?” he asks very seriously.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Udder destruction!” he yells as he throws his fists high above his head, causing all of us to erupt into heavy laughter. I laugh more at his enthusiasm in telling his joke than at the silliness of it.

  We’re all still laughing when the elevator doors open and I see Caleb.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I walk Jackson and his family to Daphne’s desk as Jackson sizes up Caleb.

  “Miss Daphne, would you please schedule Mrs. Bristow and Mr. Jackson for their viewing, please,” I ask before turning to Caleb, but I’m beaten to the punch in getting Caleb’s attention.

  “Hi.” Little Jackson cranes his neck back as far as he can to look up at Caleb, holding up his hand. “My name is Jackson. What is yours?”

  “Hello, Jackson.” Caleb chuckles as he crouches down and takes Jackson’s hand. “My name is Caleb.”

  “Are you Miss Jessie’s boyfriend?” he asks, cutting right to the chase. Caleb looks up at me as if to ask if he can still answer yes. Caught off guard, I nod.

  “Yes, sir,” Caleb replies sharply.

  “She’s the best picture taker ever. You better take good care of her,” Jackson tells him strictly. I hear Daphne nearly choke.

  “I will do my best,” Caleb tells Jackson.

  “Jackson.” His mother gives him a warning look. And I can’t help but giggle at this little chivalrous knight. I thank him and his mom again and excuse Caleb and myself.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask bluntly as I reach my office.

  “Well, I took the morning off,” he starts.

  “So I hear.”

  “So, you heard from your father this morning, then?” he fishes.

  “I did,” I say, walking behind my desk, putting it between us.

  “And…” He looks at me expecting me to say something. But what do I say. I am shocked that he took the time off to drive down there, but he should have done that two days ago.

  “And?” I ask.

  “And, well, what did he say?”

  “You mean what did he say today, or what did he say when you called and canceled when you should have been there Saturday?”

  “Jessie, I’m trying here.”

  “No, trying would have been you telling your client you had plans and would get back to him as soon as you could. Not cancelling on me. Again.”

  “You know I would have if-“

  “No, I don’t Caleb. I know that your job is very important to you and you take your job very seriously, as you should. But it seems to be your only priority.”

  “You are a priority for me.”

  “I don’t feel like I am. I’ve had to ask for the one-on-one time with you, which you’ve managed to provide somewhat. However, I’ve had to ask for you to be a part of the other aspects of my life and you’ve made every excuse to get out of it. My family is important to me, my friends are important to me, my values are important to me. And all of those you have a problem with understanding. So tell me, other than throwing on some jeans and being willing to do dinner at someplace other than a 5 star restaurant a few times, have you made me a priority?” I feel the tension rise in my voice with every word and I don’t mean to, but I’m starting to yell.

  “I didn’t go to my ‘job’ this morning so that I could right a wrong by you. I sacrificed office hours and potential clients so that I could meet your father, who by the way, seems to be a kind and forgiving man.”

  “Yeah, well, you haven’t backed out on him as many times as you have me. And if memory serves me correctly, I have forgiven you for the many dates where you’ve dragged me along to some social ladder climbing function of yours and left me to myself. I’m over all that. What I am having a problem getting over is that, what you seem to think I need and what I really need are two totally opposite things. I don’t need you to sacrifice office hours and potential clients to go meet my father. I need you to do what you say you’re going to do and be there when you say you’re going to be there
. And I need you to get ME. I need you to understand that I don’t need expensive jewelry and fancy dinners. Those things are nice and fun, but I just need you to be there. To hold my hand at an ugly sweater party or to ring the doorbell and walk through the door when you are invited to dinner with my family. Just be there.” I finish my little speech, feeling the weight of everything I have been holding onto fall off my shoulders.

  Seeing how much this had been bothering me, he comes around my desk and pulls me into a hug. “I feel like saying ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t enough. I can be there. I will do my best to be there from now on.”

  “You’re right. ’I’m sorry’ isn’t enough. And I’ll believe you when I see it. Just please, don’t promise anything you think you might not be able to keep. I will not apologize for you anymore.”

  “I never wanted you to apologize for me in the first place. You need to tell me when these things are bothering you. I will do my best to fix what I can.” He squeezes me tighter and the worries and the angst with him start to slip away.

  “What else is on your agenda today?” he asks, after just holding me for a few moments.

  “I’m supposed to start some edits, but I’m done shooting for the day.”

  “Any chance those edits could possibly wait until tomorrow?” he asks with a mischievous grin.

  “Maybe….what are you thinking?” He takes my hands and pulls me close, causing me to lean my head back so that I’m looking straight up.

  “Well, my girlfriend and I just had this somewhat nasty fight and I was hoping that I could make some things up to her by just being with her today. Think her boss would let her play hooky this afternoon?”

  “I think her boss wouldn’t mind at all,” I manage to say, just before he kisses me.

  ***

  We spend the rest of the day just being us. We do lunch at Café on the Corner and then walk around the Plaza. We buy a whole cheesecake at the Cheesecake Factory and take it back to my place and watch the Dark Knight movies until I have to kick Caleb out for snoring. It is one of the best dates we have ever been on and as long as he is true to his word about making more of an effort, I think we could be just fine.

  Daphne’s last question still rings in my ears, though, and while I’m not thinking about how Stephen is doing, I’m wondering how present God has really been in my relationship with Caleb. I think I have been avoiding a conversation about his lack of belief since he told me about his Mom’s family, but it is beyond time that we revisit the topic.

  The rest of the week goes by fairly uneventfully, mainly because Stephen and I have been avoiding each other. I don’t know what to say to him, especially since things are going well with Caleb. Stephen always stands in the back of my mind though, no matter how well things are going with Caleb and that makes me feel guilty. I guess I also think that if I allow myself to talk to Stephen, I will be betraying Caleb in a way. So for now, I just don’t make an effort to reach out to him.

  What makes it harder is my upcoming birthday. In fact, nobody is bringing up my birthday and that means one of two things. Either no one wants to celebrate with me this year or someone is planning a surprise party. Judging by Daphne’s increased jitteriness, I’m betting on the latter. That is until I get a call from Caleb on the Wednesday before.

  “Hey, Jess. I have a quick question for you,” Caleb says.

  “Sure, what’s up?” I pick up his call on my cell while looking for a new memory card I had bought but managed to lose in my disorganized office. I really need to clean this place up.

  “I know it’s short notice and your birthday, but I had a very important dinner come up and was hoping that if your gorgeous self would join me for it on Friday, that I could make up for your birthday on Saturday? Anything you want.” My heart sinks. I was really hoping that he would have come up with something instead of leaving me to plan my own birthday.

  “Well, let me check and make sure I don’t have plans with Daphne really quick,” I say hoping maybe she has something planned.

  I pick up my desk phone and press Daphne’s extension, holding my cell to my chest.

  “This is Daphne.”

  “Hey, do we happen to have anything going on this Friday?” I ask, trying not to give my fishing away. She thinks about it for a moment.

  “Mmm. Not that I know of,” she says, sounding pretty innocent.

  “What about Saturday? Anything at all?”

  “Nope. Why, am I forgetting something?” she asks, suddenly afraid she did.

  “No, I was just checking to see if I was free to do dinner with Caleb. Thought maybe we had made plans or something.”

  “Not that I can remember. Enjoy your time with Caleb though!” she says before hanging up. I’m seriously disappointed, but think dressing up and getting a nice dinner isn’t the worst thing I could do on my birthday.

  “Caleb?” I ask after pulling my cell back up.

  “I’m still here.”

  “Looks like I’m free to go. What kind of dinner are we talking? Cocktail or gown?”

  “Gown. Shaina was asking if you were free tomorrow to maybe go shopping. I told her I wasn’t sure since I kidnapped you on Monday, so you might give her a call.”

  “Okay.” Dress shopping for a fancy dinner sounds like just the pick me up I could use.

  “I’m serious about Saturday though. Anything you want.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay. Bye,” he says before hanging up.

  I mope around in my office for a little while, trying not to let disappointment and frustration build as I continue to look for the dumb memory card again. I really don’t want to sound like a brat, so I force myself to not act like a twelve-year-old and set about making the best of the situation. I finally find the memory card so I pick up my cell and dial Shaina’s number, ready to have some fun.

  “Hi! I was just thinking of calling you!” she answers.

  “Hey! So I guess I have some shopping to do?” I ask, proud to hear excitement in my voice.

  “Yes we do! When are you free? Please say now. I’m so totally bored out of my mind and I need something to do other than watch birthing videos. These things are actually pretty scary.” I laugh at her.

  “I can’t right now,” I tell her, “but give me two hours and I’m all yours. We can do dinner and make a girls’ night out of it?”

  “Sounds great! I need to clean up anyway. Yoga pants have become my most favorite things in the world lately.”

  I picture her curled up on the couch, staring at a screen, stuffing her face with saltines watching, videos on YouTube with an amused, yet disgusted look on her face. The image has me giggling at her.

  “Laugh it up, lady. Your turn is coming.” Her comment sobers me up because it could very well be a while before my time comes and the thought of that threatens to make me sad again. I change the subject to determine the details of our girls’ night and hang up before I lose any enthusiasm.

  The next couple of hours seem to drag on while I work on edits. My last appointment is a viewing and that helps the time go by a little faster, but it also lasts longer than normal. My client is a new mom who is concerned with just about every photo. By her critique, it is looking like I’m going to have to re-edit every single photo tomorrow. I’m getting irritated that she is taking up my girls’ night time. I’m just about to ask her if she would like me to redo the shoot, when she finally starts to like the last set of the pictures. She finally agrees to 25 images, only requesting that I re-edit six of them, and I’m finally able to lock up the studio thirty minutes later than I would have liked. I call Shaina and have her meet me at the store to help make up the time.

  The store she suggested is a little less boutique-like than the last store she recommended. And the staff is considerably friendlier here. We get straight to work and I can’t help but notice that all the dresses Shaina is picking out have an empire waist line.

  “You’re not showing yet, you know. Y
ou could totally get away with one more of your signature mermaid style dresses,” I tell her after she picks up a royal blue dress with intricate beading all across the bust.

  “The pressure of the corset they require makes me nauseous. I had to leave another fundraiser last week because I thought I was going to hurl all over the chairman of the Parks and Rec board. I’m telling you, they need to make evening yoga pants. Pregnant women all over the world would be thrilled.”

  I’m pretty sure the majority of pregnant ladies across the world don’t really needing “evening” anything. First world problems for elite housewives…

  I have a couple different dresses in my hand and am examining a black, one shoulder dress that just so happens to be an empire waistline as well when she starts making a scene. I turn toward her, expecting to see her doubled over in pain, but she is gawking at the dress in my hands instead.

  “Will you please not make that noise again until you are in labor or something? My heart nearly just stopped!” I start to scream at her, but remembering we’re in public, I tone myself down.

  “I’m sorry, but that dress is perfect.”

  “Well, here.” I take it off the rack and start to hand it to her but she pushes back to me.

  “No, I mean for you!” She grabs my hand and pulls me to the dressing rooms and practically throws me in an empty room. “That one first! Go!” She thrusts her finger toward the dressing room, showing me she means business.

  I take the room and quickly undress to slip the dress on, slightly fearing she will unleash her prego hormone craziness on me if I don’t obey immediately. I check my backside before stepping out.

  “How upset would you be if I was done shopping already?” I ask as I twirl in front of her. The dress fits like a glove. The waistline shines with a silver beaded belt and flows freely down my front. With a pair of good heels, the hem will dance just above the floor.

  “Not. At. All,” she says as she stands in awe. Her stare confirms that I’m all done shopping.

  “Will you get in there and start trying on dresses already?” I tell her, realizing she has been standing in front of the mirror waiting for me. “As soon as you’re done we can go feed that sweet little angel you’re growing,” I remind at her, realizing she is starting to go pale.