by Amanda Tru
“I didn’t know there were ‘many ways’ to be a first love,” Sydney answered skeptically. “Did you love him or not?”
“Well, he was my first boyfriend. The first guy I dated that I actually liked.”
“But did you love him?”
London frowned irritably. “I don’t know, and I don’t know that it matters now whether I did or not. The important thing is what I feel about him now.”
“So, do you love him now?”
“Alright, Syd!” London said, raising her hands in surrender. “I give! Can we take a break from the interrogation?”
Sydney winced. “Sorry. You seemed confused about Adam, and I was trying to help you better recognize how you feel about him.”
“‘Recognize,’” London repeated. “Does that mean that you think you already know how I feel and are simply trying to lead me to the light?”
Instead of answering her question, Sydney asked her own. “Do you remember why you broke up with him?”
“Yes. I was leaving Crossroads. I didn’t want a long-distance relationship.”
Sydney smiled tolerantly. “It was more than that. I certainly remember. Don’t you?”
London felt ashamed because, truthfully, she remembered exactly why she’d broken up with him, and apparently so did Sydney. “I didn’t want a small-town guy,” she admitted. “Adam wasn’t going anywhere. He was born and raised in Crossroads and didn’t seem to feel any desire to leave. His college plans included living at home while he commuted to the university in Brighton Falls. I wanted more than just to marry a Crossroads guy and live the rest of my days in this microcosm. I wanted more than Adam Caldwell.”
“You didn’t love him, London,” Sydney decreed softly. “If you did, you wouldn’t have left him so easily. You cared about him, but it wasn’t the deep, once-in-a-lifetime love. When you love someone in that way, it doesn’t matter what he does, it matters who he is. Adam is a great guy, but he wasn’t the one for you.”
“Then. He wasn’t the one then,” London added. “I may not have loved him then, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fall in love with him now. I’ve changed. I’ve had my adventures and seen the world. Now I can’t imagine a better dream than staying here in Crossroads and finding a local guy to marry and live the small-town life.”
“Don’t get me wrong, London. I’m thrilled you’re back in Crossroads. You are much easier to keep track of here than in LA, but you’re still talking about the outward circumstances. Your ideal has changed, at least in your desire for what your guy does. Now you want a guy who will stay. But that doesn’t change that you didn’t love who Adam was. I still maintain that it shouldn’t matter if a guy is a hometown guy or a frequent flyer to every exotic place on the globe. It does matter if you love him.”
London’s brow creased. “I understand what you’re saying, but just because I didn’t love him then, doesn’t mean I couldn’t now. As you said, he’s a great guy. On paper, he’s a perfect match. I don’t understand why you seem so opposed. You always liked Adam. Now you seem to be saying that I will never love him, and there’s no sense wasting my time.”
Sydney sighed and leaned back against the couch. “I’m not saying that. I just want you to go into it with your eyes open to how you truly feel. You need to also be aware that while you didn’t love him, he was, and still is, very much in love with you. If you think you can love him, then go for it. But, if you don’t feel any different about him after a few dates, don’t get yourself in too deep, for his sake. End it before you find yourself engaged to someone you don’t truly love and who you risk hurting even more than you did as a teen.”
“Thanks for the advice, Sydney. I will take it to heart, but I’m curious.” London openly studied her sister. “Has something changed? When did you become an expert at love? Do you have a special guy in your life that I don’t know about?”
Sydney’s expression immediately withdrew, and she stood to gather the bowls and take them to the sink. “No. I mean, not really. I mean, there was this one guy last Christmas, but I haven’t seen him since. The nature of my job makes a relationship almost impossible, and this particular one, probably more so.”
London stood with Sydney, unwilling to let her escape that easily. “Last Christmas?” she asked thoughtfully. “As in Christmas Eve?”
Sydney looked surprised. “Well, yes. How did you know? I met him at a Christmas party for work. It was one of those white elephant Christmas parties.”
“Was there anything dangerous involved in this Christmas party?”
Sydney suddenly looked very wary. “No, nothing dangerous.”
She was lying. Sydney was a very good liar, and though London could read her better than most, there were times even London couldn’t tell if she was telling the truth. This time, however, London had her disconcerted, making her usual façade slip just a little and revealing that London had her cornered.
“So, there was nothing dangerous,” London scoffed. “Just like there was nothing dangerous on March 15 of last year. Or on September 10 two years ago. Or there was a really bad one five years ago, but it was over several days. Let me see, what were those dates?”
“Stop,” Sydney said firmly, her face deathly pale. “London, how do you…? London, you can’t possibly know those dates.”
At the stark fear shining from the eyes exactly like her own, London suddenly needed to sit down. I shouldn’t have said anything! I never have before. Why did I say anything now?
Perching on the arm of the couch, she answered honestly. “It’s the twin thing, Sydney. Did you think it stopped working when we grew up?”
As long as London could remember, she and Sydney would feel things about each other. Mostly it happened when the other one was in trouble. A few times in high school, Sydney showed up out of the blue when London was at a dance or a party where she felt uncomfortable, and she returned the favor for Sydney. They’d talked about it, asking how the other knew they were needed. The answer was always that unsettled feeling in the pit of the stomach that said something wasn’t right.
London sighed and confessed feelings that she’d tried to ignore for years. “Some nights I can’t sleep, and I know it’s because of you. There have been times that I’ve been a basket case for days, unable to sleep. But I have no idea where you are to come to your rescue. Last Christmas Eve was one of those nights when I was a nervous wreck. I don’t know what happened, but I know you were in danger, Sydney.”
“Have you ever told anyone?” Sydney asked.
“If I’m really desperate and can’t shake it, then I’ll call Dallas. I know he has some connections, so I ask him to check on you. He’s never followed up and told me what happened, but he at least takes me seriously. Sometimes he asks me questions about what I’m feeling, and he seems alarmed enough himself to check it out.”
“Well, that explains a few things,” Sydney said softly.
“Listen, London,” Sydney said with intensity. “I appreciate your concern, but you need to forget those dates. The facts that you have my face and know that certain dates are significant can put you in grave danger even if you don’t know what that significance is.”
“I don’t think I can forget,” London answered truthfully. “I never purposely remember them, but what I felt was so intense that they stick in my mind. Sydney, I even have nightmares about those dates. The things I imagine are awful. I know it’s just my mind trying to deal with the worry and overwhelming feelings. None of those things in my dreams could actually have happened, but still.”
Sydney gazed at her with a startling intensity. “London, I’m not going to ask you about what you dream. I think it’s better that way, but you’d probably better not ever tell anyone else about them either. Those dates are… significant. I’m sorry. I knew my job puts you at risk, but I’ve taken precautions. I didn’t realize you could possibly be put at greater risk because of me. I wish there were a way to turn off the twin thing.”
“Don’t wish
that!” London objected, appalled at the idea. “If I really do sense when you’re in danger, that’s a good thing. Sure, it isn’t so pleasant for me, but you seem to be in varying amounts of danger a lot. I don’t always call Dallas, but I always pray. Maybe sometimes Dallas can help you out, but even if he doesn’t, I’m confident that God is always able to help. The most difficult part is feeling helpless and not knowing where or how to come to your rescue, but I pray for God to rescue you instead. I’m sure He’s far more qualified anyway, and I’m just thankful that He allows me to have a part in helping you, even if it’s just through prayer.”
“There’s no ‘just’ about it,” Sydney said quietly. “Thank you, London. Honestly, I’m glad to hear you talk like that. I admit that I was worried for a while that Hollywood had turned your head and that your faith may have taken a backseat.”
“In a lot of ways, it did,” London admitted. “I never stopped believing, but God hasn’t been a priority. I guess I’m trying to come home in more than one way.”
Sydney smiled sadly. “Sometimes, coming home is not always possible. It’s certainly difficult balancing my faith with my job, and most of the time, I feel like I do a lousy job of it. Even still, I know from the dates you mentioned, that God did answer your prayers for me in every instance. If He hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Does the twin thing not work for you anymore the way it still works for me?” London asked curiously.
“No, it does,” Sydney assured. “I guess I assumed that since I kept so many things secret from you that your sixth sense about me wouldn’t extend to my job. It never occurred to me to wonder if you felt when I was in danger. Thankfully, you aren’t in danger much, but I still feel when you are deeply troubled or upset. That’s why I’m hesitant to believe that Adam Caldwell is the one for you.”
“I don’t understand,” London said, not following her train of thought.
“I clearly remember the pain you felt fourteen months ago. I felt it, London, and you’ve never experienced something like that before.”
London locked eyes with her sister, realizing that there were actually fewer secrets between them than she realized.
More than anything else Sydney said tonight, the mention of fourteen months ago pierced London’s heart most sharply.
With an empathetic smile that revealed she understood way more than she should, Sydney reached out to wrap London in a hug. “I think it’s awfully difficult to fall in love with someone when you feel so deeply about someone else.”
Disturbed by her sister’s words, London said goodnight, claiming she needed some rest for the busy next few days. Sydney claimed weariness as well, and they both headed to their bedrooms.
After showering, changing into her pajamas, and brushing her teeth, London crawled into bed She didn’t pull the covers all the way up before she paused, her gaze drawn magnetically to the closet door. She was exhausted, but maybe one quick peek would settle her mind. And prove Sydney’s fears unfounded.
She clambered out of bed and scurried to the closet. Pushing open the door, she quickly flipped the light switch, flooding the space with light that illuminated many garment bags hung neatly along the full rack at her right. The large walk-in closet was the primary reason she’d chosen this apartment. Months on a waiting list finally paid off, and in her mind, had been completely worth it. London couldn’t live in an apartment that didn’t have a closet spacious enough for her dresses.
London immediately pulled the first dress in the long line off the rack and unzipped it from its confinement. Years had passed since she’d actually looked at this dress. As she pulled it out, memories filled her, and she smiled.
Yes, she could definitely wear this wedding dress.
It was a simple, country wedding dress, perfect for a small-town girl and the very first wedding dress she had made for herself. Of course, there had been many that followed. For every relationship London ever had, for every man she ever dated, she’d designed a wedding dress. She recognized it as a strange quirk, and it was rather embarrassing to admit she had a wedding dress for every date she’d ever had. She’d never told anyone about her eccentric hobby, not even Sydney, but that didn’t change the fact that a long line of at least a dozen dresses now graced the rack of her closet.
She’d never in her life received a marriage proposal nor had any of her relationships ever warranted actually choosing a dress, but she was a wedding dress designer. Somehow creating a dress to fit the relationship defined it in her mind, and she was prepared that if she ever had the opportunity to say yes to a proposal, she had the yes to the dress already waiting.
“The Adam” dress was a simple gown of satin with cap sleeves, a sashed waist, and a chiffon-overlaid skirt that fell gracefully to the floor but didn’t extend in a train. It was beautifully simple, with the most dramatic feature a keyhole back.
This dress was one of the very first gowns London had designed, and she’d sewn it herself while still in high school. It amazed her that, even after all these years, the classic design remained viable and one she could be proud of. If she posted the dress as an option on her website tomorrow, it would be sold before the end of the day. However, London never sold any of her own wedding dresses. They all stayed safely hidden in her closet where no one but London knew of their existence.
As she looked at “The Adam” now, she could imagine herself wearing the dress and walking down the aisle to meet him. Didn’t that mean that she was ready to fall in love?
Happily content that she’d settled her own doubt and Sydney’s objections, London lovingly replaced the dress in its bag and stowed it back on the rack until the time when she’d pull it down to wear on her special day.
Fully intending to turn out the light and crawl into bed without a second thought, her mind objected when her feet stopped, seemingly of their own accord, at the opposite end of the rack of dresses. Following the rebellion of her feet, her hand reached out and pulled the last dress off the rack, and her trembling fingers unzipped the back.
Thankfully, she managed to control herself before removing the dress completely, but it was still visible within the fold of the bag. The sparkles blinked at her, and the delicate lace beckoned her touch. Yet she held back. She knew what lay inside. Even without opening it, she could fully picture the most stunning dress she’d ever created. While “The Adam” was simple, this one was pure glamour. She didn’t want to see it in person again. The peek of it in the bag was enough to make her heart ache.
Quickly, she zipped the dress back up, replaced it on the rack, shut off the light in the closet, and firmly shut the door.
The pain at the sight of the other dress didn’t matter. She liked “The Adam.” In a way, wasn’t it wonderfully romantic that the first dress she created might end up being the last one she wore for her wedding?
Yes, Adam was the one. It didn’t matter what Sydney said. It didn’t matter how that other dress made her feel or that she seemed to battle a strange reluctance with Adam. She was simply feeling aftershocks from being hurt so badly before.
She pulled up the covers, twisted the little knob to turn off the bedside lamp, and resolutely closed her eyes. Then, with great determination, she fixed in her mind an image of herself on her wedding day.
Please dream of Adam, she begged herself.
If only she could control her heart with the same resolve.
London laughed, the sound tinkling away on a slight, early summer breeze. They’d just finished their sandwiches at an outdoor table in front of a deli called The Crossroads Upper Crust, and London knew that she needed to get back to work soon.
Unfortunately, at her laughter, Adam mistakenly assumed she simply appreciated his dramatic retelling of one of his fumbled, yet hilarious, first appearances in a courtroom. Her mirth only encouraged him, spreading his grin, and the attached mustard, across his face like a yellow mustache.
This only made London laugh harder. Unable to speak past the giggles overcro
wding her throat, she pointed to his face.
Confusion clouded his brow, and he reached up, following the direction of her pointing. His palm hit the mustard squarely. At the wet sensation, his eyes grew wide, and he tried to rub it off with one swipe of the already-positioned palm. Unfortunately, this only succeeded in smearing the yellow in a long line from his cheek across his nose like a strip of caution tape.
Not knowing if she could pull herself together enough to recover, London still attempted a rescue. Grabbing a napkin, she dabbed it in her water glass, leaned across the table, and held it up in a threatening manner. “Hold still!” she gasped out.
Adam obediently froze, and London cleaned off his face with a hand still trembling in her attempts at laughter suppression.
“Here I thought I was charming, now I know I’m just a dork!” Adam grumbled as London finished.
“Who says dorks aren’t charming?” London quipped.
Sydney is wrong. I am ready. I like him. I like him a lot. I know I could love him.
Adam reached up and captured her hand in his, his gaze fixed on her with a warmth that made London want to shyly duck her head. “When can I see you again?”
At the touch of his hand, a strange anxiety shot through her, chasing away her optimism from mere seconds ago.
“You’ll be at the wedding tomorrow, right?” London asked, casually withdrawing her hand. “I thought I saw your name on the guest list.”
Adam nodded. “I handled a lot of the legalities concerning Kate’s family antique business. I’ve worked with her grandfather for years, but with Kate taking over much of the business, I’ve had more opportunity to get to know her as well.”
“Well, then, I’ll see you there. I knew of Kate when I was in high school. She was Brooke’s friend, but I never got to interact with her much until I moved back. I really like her, and I’m so happy for Dallas. I’ll see you at the wedding, and maybe we can make a plan then.”