by C. B. Stagg
I rolled my eyes so far back in my head, I was surprised I didn’t pull a muscle. “Woman, the one and only time I got on this horse you speak of, I was immediately bucked off, stomped all over, then crapped on for good measure. You’ll excuse me if I don’t want to go through that again.” I leaned forward and sighed, propping my chin in my hands. This conversation was becoming redundant.
“Look, you know I don’t mind swooping in to save you from unwanted advances now and then, but remind me again, what does that wrinkled old Post-it note you carry around say?” She raised an eyebrow, knowing full well the words scrawled on my treasured note.
“If you never try, you’ll never know.” Eyes may have rolled again.
“Listen, you need a companion. Waverly needs a daddy. But God can’t open the door for you if you have three deadbolts, five chains, and an elephant keeping it sealed up tight.”
The elephant.
Him.
“What do you suggest I do? Go out with one of these college boys that only came to town to go fishing? Or to get drunk on the boardwalk?”
“No, that’s not at all what I’m saying. I only want the best for my ladies.” She smiled, and I grabbed her hands, which were folded, resting on the table. “I guess I just wish you’d keep an open mind. I’m not telling you to run off to Vegas with the first guy who winks at you, but would a cup of coffee hurt anything?” She was referring to Jonah, who I’d been putting off since the first day of class.
“Okay, let’s say I go out with Guy X. Innocently enough, we start with coffee, and next time it’s a movie and dinner. But what from there? What happens when he’s ready to become physical?” I shuddered at the thought of any man touching me. Any man, but…
“At what point do I tell him I have a kid? At what point do I tell him she—” I stopped. No more words were needed. “Cara Jo, I have more baggage than the Ritz-Carlton during Fashion Week. I’m not exactly prime relationship material.”
She stood. “Just consider the possibilities. You were meant for greater things than waiting tables and raising that beautiful girl all by yourself. When you look in the mirror, you see a sinner. You need to work through that crap already. Quit punishing yourself. I know you don’t believe me, but you deserve to be happy.”
She popped a kiss onto my head and walked through the dining room, turning off lights and locking up. But where her hands had been seconds before sat a Post-it note that said, There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.
Strategically placed Post-it notes were Cara Jo’s thing. One of the many reasons I loved her.
I relaxed back into the vinyl booth. Alone in the dark, I let myself imagine the possibilities. A house, not a trailer. A yard for Waverly to play in, and not only a dining room and an empty spot in a trailer park. And the warmth of a man on my lips, in my bed. But it wasn’t a man, was it? Not just any man.
No, it was him.
It always came back to him.
Chapter 11
Christian
BlindDate.org Interactive Message
TO: MemberID 041586CC
FROM: Member ID 030689XT
ITC86,
I have no intention of being some sex toy in your sadistic sexual fantasies, so if that’s what you’re looking for, just delete this email. If not, then I’m Melanie. I like riding bikes, getting smoothies, and sleeping in. Message me back if you’re interested in a meetup.
Toodles, MellyBelly89
I SHOULDN’T HAVE checked it. I should have known. But as my feet hit the crushed shell drive of Perrilloux’s Diner, my phone pinged. It drew me in and now I had this bumping around in my mind. I switched the phone completely off before going inside.
“Christian, darling,” my mother sang. “For living so close, you sure don’t come around much.” I received her hug and her admonishment with grace. She was right, I had been keeping to myself.
I settled into the booth she’d been occupying and grabbed a menu. I was debating between a cheesy bacon burger and a ham and cheese sub when Cara Jo, the older woman I’d met on Christmas Day, came to take our order. My heart dropped. I’d been looking forward to this lunch since my mom invited me nearly a week ago, and my excitement certainly wasn’t for being served by a woman old enough to be my grandmother.
“Nice to see you again, Pastor Clark. What can I get for ya?”
“Double bacon cheeseburger, sweet potato fries, and a sweet tea, please.” I slapped my menu closed, satisfied with my choice.
“Yes, sir, I’ll get that right out to you.” She spun on her heel and disappeared into the back.
“What’s wrong? You seem disappointed about something.”
I rolled my eyes as she smirked. She knew exactly what was going on. “Nah, I’m fine. How are things?”
“Oh, well, looks like it’s your lucky day.” Her eyebrow shot up, and I looked in the direction her head was tilting. Ah, there she was.
Katy definitely had tunnel vision. Meeting Cara Jo in the doorway leading from the kitchen to the main dining room, she stopped right in front of the woman. A few words were exchanged, and the older woman wrapped the younger one in her arms. I glanced at my mom, embarrassed to be interloping on an emotional moment, but she was watching as well.
“The date was that bad, huh?” Cara Jo was asking. Was her elevated voice level for our benefit?
Katy shook her head. “It was coffee, not a date. And not awful, but not awesome.” She sighed. “At least it’s over with.” The two exchanged another hug.
“Well, do you think you’ll be ready for a real one soon?” Over Katy’s shoulder, Cara Jo looked me dead in the eye when she spoke.
“Not tomorrow or anything, and definitely not with him, but yeah, I think I will be. Soon. As I stirred my coffee, I was trying to stir up feelings for the guy… but the more he talked, the more I wished he was someone else, you know?”
The old woman’s eyebrows shot up as she stared me down—her wide, knowing eyes like lasers on mine. I hear what you’re not saying, lady. My faint nod was met with her approval.
“So, you like her, don’t you?” I had to love my mother’s directness. I looked back to where Katy had been standing.
“I don’t know, Mom. I don’t really know her.” I looked back in her direction. “But I can easily see myself falling for a girl like that.”
“Baggage and all?” She held her breath.
“Yep, baggage and all.”
Our visit was good, the food was even better, but I never saw Katy again. I contemplated walking around and knocking on her trailer door, but chickened out. I grabbed a Post-it and wrote a simple note, hoping she’d find it stuck to the register. It said, In the end we only regret the chances we didn’t take.
Kissing my mother on the cheek, I waited until her car had left the parking lot before summoning the courage to follow my own advice and take a chance. The area around the diner was uncharted territory for me. Once I was clear of the overgrown palm plants, I spotted Katy sitting at the end of a pier. She stared out at the water, seemingly hypnotized by the echoes of light from the setting sun reflecting off each movement on the surface of the water. I found myself hypnotized by the woman herself.
Katy West was a magnet pulling me in. She was young, yet her eyes and demeanor belonged to those of a woman who’d experienced more than her fair share of trials. I didn’t know her story, but I knew that from the moment I met her, I wanted to be a part of it.
Purposefully, I kept my footfalls heavy to alert her of my presence, but it wasn’t until I was seated beside her that she acknowledged I’d joined her.
“Hi.” Her head stayed bent, but she squinted, looking at me through big, brown sunglasses. The glasses did nothing to hide the tears in her eyes.
“Hey.” I removed my shoes, rolled up my pants, and dipped my feet into the water beside hers. And that’s where we stayed—the briny breeze blowing through our hair as we breathed in scents unique to the sea—letting the
cry of the gulls do all of the talking for us.
“I have to go get Waverly.” She made no move to leave.
“I should probably go back to work.” I shook my feet dry and started the impossible task of putting my socks and shoes back on while trying to look cool.
“Thank you.” She looked up at me again.
“For what?” But I knew.
“For being here.”
I stood and offered my hand, pulling her to her feet. “I will always be here for you.”
I meant it.
Chapter 12
Kaitlin
April 2012
I WOKE UP IN A puddle of sweat, laboring to fill my lungs with oxygen. The dream wasn’t an unfamiliar one, but this time it seemed real: the tickle of his sweet breath on my face, his rough and callused hands on my bare skin, and his lips searing a road map of his travels and explorations. I dreamed about my time with Waverly’s father almost weekly, but since meeting Christian, the dreams came more often and in much greater detail. I was projecting the obsession I still had with the father of my children onto my friend’s sweet preacher son. It was wrong on so many levels.
“Can I refill your tea?” Claire nodded, focused on her computer screen.
“Yes, please. And if you can give me about five more minutes, I’ll be finished with this short story you emailed me.”
Busying myself for as long as I could, I finally settled into the familiar booth in the back. She sat back and blew out a breath.
“I love how you ended this section. I’m almost afraid to read the next one.”
I nodded. “My main character made some pretty life-changing decisions that night.” If she only knew.
“Yeah, she did. You’re writing a lot about what happened—the who, what, when, where, why—but you haven’t written much about how she feels about what’s going on. Is she sad, ashamed, guilty? She openly defied her parents and her own personal beliefs, am I right?” I nodded. “Did she get home and regret what she’d done?”
I pointed at Claire’s computer. “Keep reading and you’ll find out. I agree with what you’re saying, though. It’s easy to tell a story. It’s much harder to make the reader feel what the character feels.”
Had I made a mistake by putting excerpts from my memoir in my collection for Claire to critique? She didn’t know, though. There was no way. I had to keep reminding myself of that. Only I knew I was pouring my past out onto paper for a virtual stranger to read.
I cleaned and rolled silverware, setting up for the part-timers coming in, so they’d have a successful and worry-free night. I was off, for once, and looking forward to it. When I’d done all the preparation possible, I settled back into the booth across from Claire once again.
She stared at me, wide-eyed. “This has to be your story, right?” I stopped fidgeting and stared at her. Claire nodded, taking my silence as an affirmation. “I can’t imagine being eighteen years old and pregnant, out in the world, and trying to survive.” My gaze fell to my lap as I continued to wring the paper napkin I’d been holding.
We sat in silence, Claire typing notes into the document I’d shared with her while I stared off into space. I was so far gone, the sound of her voice made me jump a mile high.
“I’ve been meaning to ask how Waverly’s doing. From a medical standpoint, I mean. You’ve told me a little bit here and there, but nothing for a while. Is no news good news?” I had to take a deep breath to get my mind on track with what she was asking.
“She’s frustrated. She so badly wanted to be out of pull-up diapers by the time she hit five, and she’s not. She has almost no bladder control.”
“And why’s that?”
“Waverly has Autosomal Recessive Polycystic Kidney Disease. It’s hereditary, though I know of no one on my side of the family who’s been diagnosed with it. She had one kidney removed at birth, but the other one was in decent shape and hung on for a while. To make an incredibly long and expensive story short and sweet, Waverly is in the end stage of renal disease, and we’re running out of options.”
“What about dialysis?”
“Yes, she goes three times a week to the dialysis clinic, but with children, dialysis is considered a bridge to transplantation. If she doesn’t get her transplant—and fast—she won’t survive.”
The door clattered and I jumped up. Blinking away tears, I turned and smacked right into a hard chest. I gasped and jumped back, meeting the eyes of Christian Clark. I struggled to catch my breath and regain my composure. “Hey, Christian, are you looking for your mom?”
I stepped aside, revealing Claire, who’d finished packing her computer back into her bag. She gave a little wave, stood, and scooted past us, flying out the door like she was late for an important date. But she’d been considering dessert only moments ago.
“No, actually… ” He let go of the elbow he’d grabbed to steady me seconds earlier, and the absence of his warm touch was unsettling. “I was looking for you. Do you have a minute?” He gestured to the booth his mother had vacated, motioning for me to join him. Immediately my hands flew to my hair. How haggard am I right now? I’d spent half the night up with Waverly, and then working both the breakfast and lunch shifts. Too late to do anything about it, I sat.
“What are your dinner plans?”
I stared at him. Dinner? “Um, I don’t exactly have plans.” I looked behind me, wanting Cara Jo or someone to pop up. Code Stork! Code Stork!
“So, would you and your lovely daughter like to join me on the boardwalk for greasy food and scary rides?” His smile lit my insides from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
Just in the nick of time, Cara Jo swooped in to save the day. I love you, old woman. “Katy, honey, Roy has plans to take Waverly to the picture show tonight, remember? But since you’re off… ” She looked over at Christian with a wink and a smile. “I think you should go.”
My mouth gaped at the traitorous woman I saw in front of me, and I silently took back all the warm sentiments I’d felt earlier.
“Well?”
I wasn’t sure who the question came from, but it didn’t matter. I had no excuses.
“When, now?”
He nodded, goofy and adorable.
“Okay, well, let me just go change out of this… ” I looked and saw the salsa stain I’d forgotten about. Rolling my eyes, I turned to go. “Be right back.” As I walked through the kitchen, I heard Cara Jo and Roy high five.
Was this a date? Oh my God, this was a date. I didn’t date! I didn’t even know how to date. And clothes? I had nothing without a grease stain. Nothing. I stopped inside the Airstream, leaned back against the closed door, and took several deep, calming breaths. I could do this. It was a date, not a marriage proposal.
A few more deep breaths and I got to work.
Chapter 13
Christian
BlindDate.org Interactive Message
TO: MemberID 041586CC
FROM: Member ID 042286B
My Dearest,
I know you’re not going to believe this, but I am actually contacting you from the future. 2020 to be exact. By now, we have three children. They’re all girls, and they all look just like me. Our life includes camping, watching football, and incredible sex, hence the three kids. If you’re ready to learn how we met, message me and we can get the show on the road.
Your Loving Future Wife,
LeftFingerBling86
I POWERED MY PHONE OFF again when I heard Katy approaching. If only she’d come out a few minutes earlier, she could have saved me from the visual the latest interesting character from BlindDate.org had conjured up in my mind.
“I’m ready.” Her voice lacked confidence.
I stood, sliding the phone back into my pocket, before standing to face her. “Wow.” Could I sound more ridiculous?
“Oh. Thanks? I’m afraid, even though I changed my clothes, I still smell like the diner.”
She smoothed out her fitte
d, navy blue T-shirt with a gold anchor on it. She’d paired it with a floor-length white skirt and gold sandals. Her dark chestnut hair, which I’d only ever seen either braided or in a ponytail, fell in loose waves over her shoulders and down her back. It was long. Incredibly long.
I leaned in and sniffed her. “You come out looking like a million bucks and smelling like bacon. Tell me again what you’re apologizing for? You’re every man’s dream come true.”
The corners of her mouth turned up, and I relaxed. Then she laughed, and once again I found myself baffled she had agreed to spend time with someone as plain and awkward as myself. Did she not see how out of my league she was?
We chose to leave my car at Perrilloux’s and walk the few short blocks to the boardwalk, a place I hadn’t been since I was a kid. “I have a confession to make.” When I spoke, she stopped walking, but I lightly placed my hand on the small of her back to keep us moving. Touching her, feeling the heat of her body through her clothing, pulled feelings from me I’d long silenced.
“I haven’t been on a date in almost ten years.”
She laughed again, full and deep, showing her perfect white teeth. I made a mental note to learn some new jokes the first chance I got. To keep her laughing was my new life goal. “Well, you’re doing better than I am. This is actually my first.”
I stopped, pulling her shoulders to face me. “Impossible.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Don’t ask. It’s complicated.”
How do you have a kid if you haven’t even been on a date?
I nodded and continued walking toward the crowds.
“So, what first? Turkey-on-a-stick? Cotton candy? Ferris wheel?”
Katy looked like a kid seeing a carnival for the first time. She spun around slowly, taking in a 360-degree view as soon as we stepped inside the gates.
“Katy, have you never been to the boardwalk before?”
She shook her head, soaking in all the lights and sounds and smells. On a regular day, the boardwalk was fun. But tonight a traveling carnival had come to town, setting up along the main drag, which added excitement.