The Calling

by Ashley Lynn Willis

  Ty snorted with disgust as he stalked away, shoulders tight, head hung low. He yanked open the front door and slammed it behind him, the frame shuddering from the force.

  Mandy heaved a heavy breath large enough to fill the whole room. Asshole. She wanted to gargle a bottle of mouthwash to wash away all remnants of Ty, but settled for swiping her mouth with the back of her hand. He was such a prick to think he could come waltzing in and sweep her off her feet.

  As she stared at the pink smeared across her knuckles, traces of lipstick that she’d wanted Justin to kiss off—not Ty—she realized that, for the first time in over a year, she was completely in control of her life, and it felt damn good.

  * * *

  The Italian restaurant bustled with a lunch crowd, people hurrying to their tables to scarf down a plate of pasta before rushing back to the grind. Thank goodness, Mandy had the day off, along with Lori. Kirsten was the only one at the table with a timeline, but she wasn’t due back at her office for another forty-five minutes.

  Mandy scanned the immediate tables to make sure no one she knew was in the vicinity. Some conversations were meant to be private.

  “He looked like he was ready to go off the deep end,” Mandy said, as she leaned toward Lori. “I should have been scared of him, but I wasn’t.”

  Lori patted her hand. “Good for you.”

  Kirsten’s eyes locked on the waiter’s station as if she were sizing up the lunch crew. “Yeah,” she said half-heartedly. “Good for you.”

  “Has she heard a word I’ve said?” Mandy asked.

  Lori shook her head when Kirsten didn’t respond. “See the tall waiter over there, the one with the curly black hair?”

  Mandy’s gaze traveled to a young guy, probably twenty, furiously punching an order into his touchscreen.

  “She’s been watching him since we sat down,” Lori added.

  “Ah. Got it.” Mandy twirled a noodle around her fork, making sure to dab it in plenty of tomato sauce. She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “It felt good kicking Ty out.”

  Lori smirked, her gaze going distant as if she were imagining the scene in detail. “That man deserved some payback.”

  “So, why do I feel guilty?”

  “Are you crazy? You let the man off easy, in my opinion.”

  “He might never get off antidepressants now.”

  Lori rolled her eyes and daintily dabbed Alfredo sauce off her lips. “Ty’s a dick. Who cares if he’s on meds the rest of his life?” She shrugged. “What are you supposed to do? Date him so he can get over his issues?”

  “No, of course not. I just wish he hadn't kissed me, so I could’ve let him down easy.”

  “Forget about him. You’ve got Justin now, anyway, and he’s the best catch of all.”

  “You’ve got two guys who want you?” Kirsten mumbled, suddenly joining the conversation. “I wish we all had problems like yours.” She eyed the tall waiter, who hustled past their table carrying a tray of drinks. “I haven’t been laid in two weeks.” She licked her lips, her gaze attached to the waiter’s ass.

  “Honestly, Kirsten,” Lori said. “Why don’t you get “Do me” tattooed on your forehead?”

  Kirsten arched an eyebrow. “Do you think that’d work?” After running her fingers through her long auburn hair, she lowered her eyelids in a seductive look and leaned back in her chair. Not seeming to notice her, the waiter hurried by with an empty tray balanced on his fingertips. She pursed her lips in disapproval. Given all the cleavage spilling out of her blouse, Mandy was surprised by the lack of attention.

  “Why do you want to be with one man, anyway?” Kirsten asked. “Have sex with both of them and send them on their way.” When she leaned sideways to keep an eye on the server’s assets, her chair began to topple backwards.

  Mandy grabbed the back of Kirsten’s seat before she flew head over high heels. “Sit, Bobo.”

  “I’m not a dog.” Kirsten pouted as she settled back into her chair.

  Lori smirked. “You get around like one.”

  “If you were a good friend, you’d be paying more attention to Mandy’s problem.” Kirsten turned an attentive gaze on Mandy. “Why can’t you date antidepressant man?”

  “Do you even know who I’m talking about?” Mandy asked.

  “Not really.”

  Mandy rolled her eyes. Kirsten had the attention span of a two-year-old. If they hadn’t been friends since grade school, and if Mandy hadn’t known about her difficult home life, she’d have given up on her years ago. “Are your ears full of cotton? For the last fifteen minutes I’ve been talking about Ty.”

  Kirsten stiffened. “Ty?” She blushed. “Really?”

  Lori’s fork clanked on her plate. “Listen, Ty left you when you got sick. It’s sad that his dad died of cancer, but the way he treated you was inexcusable. He’s just not worth worrying over.”

  Lori had a point, but Mandy couldn’t help feeling bad for him. Both her parents were still alive and even married. They’d given her a picture-perfect childhood. She couldn’t imagine losing one of them so young. “I’m not saying what he did was right. I’m just saying he had underlying emotional issues.”

  Kirsten slid deep into her seat and placed her fork on her plate. Her face turned one shade brighter than beet-red.

  Mandy eyed Kirsten, sure she’d have something to say now that she was paying attention. “You’ve got an opinion on everything. Do you think I should try harder to be friends with him?”

  “I have to go to the bathroom.” Kirsten slunk out of her chair. She scurried away, wobbling on unsteady legs in her high-heeled boots.

  Lori’s brow furrowed. “What’s got into her?”

  Mandy shrugged. “Maybe the waiter texted her to meet in the potty.” She sighed. “You two have been no help.”

  “You’re gonna do what you want. You always have. I’m just saying, I think Ty’s going to get in the way of your relationship with Justin.”

  “I would never get back with Ty. Ever.”

  “I know that. He’s just kind of a creep, and I wouldn’t put it past him to sabotage you and Justin.”

  Mandy cringed. What did it say about Ty that she’d already thought the same thing? She propped her elbow on the table with her chin in her hand and stared off into space. “I really like Justin.”

  “Then don’t do anything to mess things up between the two of you.”

  “You really think being friends with Ty would cause a problem?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it could get ugly.”

  “Sounds like you have your answer.”

  Yes, she did. She just had to get over the guilt of abandoning Ty. Since he’d deserted her first, it shouldn’t take too long.

  “He dug his own grave,” Mandy whispered.

  Chapter 8

  Mandy lay on her couch with her cell phone in her hand, willing the thing to ring. Would the clinic get annoyed if she called again? Probably, since she’d phoned them less than an hour ago, and they’d told her the results weren’t due back until this afternoon. What if they arrived early? She sighed longingly. Wishful thinking.

  Dang, waiting was a killer.

  When someone knocked, she jumped and immediately glanced at the clock on her phone. Justin! It was time for their date. Her anxious mind suddenly buzzed with excitement. The beach, Justin, and boogie boarding were exactly what the doctor ordered.

  She jumped off the couch and hurried to answer, surprised by how quickly her mood had lifted. As soon as she opened the door, he threw her a sweet smile and handed her a single red rose. “For you.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, remembering the dozen yellow roses in her kitchen. “I’ll put it in water.”

  While Justin waited on the porch, she headed for the sink, bringing the rose to her nose and inhaling the heady scent. The velvety softness of the petals tickled her lips, and she smiled. How sweet of him.

  After glancing over her shoulder to
make sure Justin wasn’t able to see, she shoved Ty’s roses into the corner behind her mixer. Later, she’d throw them away, since she had no desire to explain where they’d come from.

  Mandy stood on her tiptoes and grabbed a small glass vase from atop the refrigerator. She filled it with water, then placed the red rose inside, its stem straight and long, its petals unmarred. Red roses were her favorite. Ty should have known that, but he’d never been attentive to her likes and dislikes the way Justin was.

  She turned on her heel, placed the rose in the center of her kitchen table, and headed out the door. Twenty minutes later, Justin was setting up her lounge chair on Xavier beach.

  “I want to get an even tan today,” she said, determined to spend some time lying out.

  “Come in the water for thirty minutes. Afterward, you can perfect your tan.” He grabbed the sunscreen Mandy was smearing on her stomach and snickered. “How you plan to tan through SPF 50 is beyond me.”

  “I’m going for one shade darker than bleached.”

  She grabbed the sunscreen from him, finished her shoulders, then kicked off her sandals and backed up to her chair, the plastic hitting her calves. Before she could plop into it, Justin grabbed her hand.

  He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Water first.”

  Mandy huffed, though she was perfectly content to go wherever he wanted as long as he was touching her. Good Lord, she was getting in deep.

  As he led her to the surf, she noticed a family playing about a quarter of a mile to their west. Other than that, they shared the beach with only the seagulls squawking overhead and a pelican dipping its beak into the sea.

  When the surf hit their waists, Justin let go of her hand and dove into the water headfirst. Waves rolled over his shoulders as he surfaced with a broad grin. He seemed so relaxed in the ocean, as if he had as much right as a fish to claim the sea as his home. He turned his back to her and hauled his long body through the surf, his muscles contracting and releasing with each breaststroke. God, he was beautiful. An Adonis in swimming trunks.

  Mandy sighed, watching the water slide off his smooth skin in translucent sheets. She wasn’t just getting in deep. She was officially over her head.

  An hour later, after boogie boarding to exhaustion and ogling Justin one too many times, she decided the time had come to relax. She laid a towel across the beach chair and reclined, letting the sun kiss every inch of her body not covered by her tankini. The combination of the steady wind coming off the water and the warm rays on her skin made her melt into a tranquility she hadn’t known for months. Wrapped in a cozy cocoon of contentment, she fell into a peaceful slumber.

  She awoke to the sound of a seagull screeching by her feet. The bird eyed her toes like ten little red-tipped worms. Before the creature could peck off her crimson polish, she raised her hand. “Shoo, bird.” The gull flew away with a loud ruckus.

  Mandy scanned the beach. The family had left, leaving the place deserted. She plucked her phone from atop her beach bag to check the time and, holding the cell high to keep the sun from glaring off the screen, she caught a glimpse of Justin. He had his broad back to her, and his fingers dipped into the ocean. When he pulled them up, the water seemed to rise, as if reluctant to let him escape.

  He caressed the sea with his palm. As he lifted his hand from the surface, the water rose at least a foot, never letting go of his skin. She quickly stood to get a better view, then headed toward the water. Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her, except the ocean around him continued to defy gravity. Both his hands swayed in front of him, and the water rose two feet, surrounding him on all sides. It was as if he stood in a vase, and the water formed crystal sides all around him.

  “Justin?” she asked, wondering if she were dating a magician.

  In a loud rush, the water splashed back into the sea. He whirled around, his eyes as alarmed as a cornered deer. “I thought you were sleeping.”

  She stepped into the surf. “How are you doing that?” His mouth opened, but no words formed, and she could clearly see the worry tightening his brown eyes. “Are you going to answer me?”

  He dipped his hand in the water. When he raised it, the water lifted an inch. “It’s a trick I learned. I’ll teach you sometime.”

  “A trick?”

  He nodded, the planes of his face set rigid. “You ready to go?”

  Realizing she still had her cell in her hand, she looked down to check the time. Four o’clock. The mammogram results! “Oh, crap,” she whispered. The office closed in thirty minutes; she hadn’t meant to stay so late. Her interrogation of his magic trick would have to wait. “I’m ready.”

  As she hurried to gather her things, Justin waded through the water and onto the beach. She wasn’t about to call the doctor until she was home and out of his earshot, which meant they needed to get moving. With unsteady hands, she tugged on her cover-up, collected her belongings, and trekked to Justin’s SUV.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, as they drove back to her apartment.

  She mustered a smile, even though worry twisted her gut. “I’m fine.”

  He put a hand on her knee and squeezed, then cut his eyes to her as if he doubted her truthfulness. At least he didn’t push, which only made her like him more.

  She stared down at his hand on her leg, marveling at how his touch pushed down the fear that threatened to swallow her whole. Until today, she’d never noticed what a calming effect he had on her. From his ocean scent, to his cool bass-toned voice, to his easy smile—it all eased her. If the diagnosis was bad, should she tell him instead of holing up at home, crying and eating ice cream? Maybe he’d be able to comfort her in a way she needed. She sighed. No, it wasn’t fair to subject him to her hell, but a small selfish part of her still entertained the thought.

  When they stepped inside her apartment, Justin asked, “Why don’t you shower first?”

  She glanced at her phone—fifteen minutes until the office closed. “Go ahead. I need to make a call.”

  He nodded and headed down the hall with his duffel over his shoulder.

  She picked up her cell and dialed.

  “Dr. Orson’s office.”

  “I need to speak with Dr. Orson’s nurse regarding test results.”

  “Just a moment, please.”

  For two minutes, she paced a rut in her living room carpet. Step, step, pivot. Step, step, pivot. By the time the nurse picked up, Mandy could hardly breathe.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, this is Mandy Hardy. I had a mammogram on Monday and was told the results would be ready today.”

  “Let me pull your file.” The nurse put her on hold, and a monotone voice began to drone on about the benefits of flu shots. She tried to clear her mind, but she might as well have been delivering a speech standing naked in front of a crowd. Her hands sweated, her heart pounded, and heat consumed her body. After another three minutes of pacing and listening to flu statistics, the nurse finally picked up the phone again. “Miss Hardy?”

  “Yes?” she squeaked, just as Justin strolled out of the bathroom with wet hair and mesh shorts slung low on his hips.

  “Your results are normal.”

  Mandy collapsed on the couch, the rigidity in her muscles disappearing like sand through a sieve. “Thank you,” she said, then hung up the phone.

  For two weeks, she’d been positive the cancer was back. She’d chewed the scenarios over on every tooth—how she’d break the news to her family, what she’d do about work, whether or not she’d stay in her apartment or move in with her parents, but all that had been unnecessary. She was okay. Maybe in a year she wouldn’t be, but for now, she could live her life as though everything were normal.

  The relief overwhelmed her, filling her chest with a joy she couldn’t contain. Her shoulders rose and fell with gasps, the excess spilling over into sobs. She hugged herself until she could hardly expand her lungs, but her body still shook with every cry.

  Justin zipped across the room and
wrapped her in his arms. “Are you okay?” He brushed her hair from her face and pushed her cheek to his chest.

  “Yes… I am.” The words sounded so weird. But they were true. She was okay. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her crying. Getting emotional over being healthy was stupid, but the acute relief made putting a cork in her crying impossible. After another uneven breath, she calmed enough to speak in full sentences. “I just called for my test results. The cancer’s not back.”

  Justin pulled away just enough to stare down at her. A spark of anger backlit his eyes, then disappeared as if she were watching a flickering TV. After the flash, his expression went emotionless. No happiness or relief for her prognosis, just a boilerplate with standard language that hinted at nothing.

  Her last sob caught in her throat. “What’s wrong?”

  His back straightened as if he had a two-by-four nailed to his spine. “Nothing.”

  “I thought you’d be happy for me.” She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, but failed miserably.

  He half-smiled, but it seemed forced. “I am happy.”

  “You sure don’t act like it.” She leaned further away, trying to get a read on him. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “His smile disappeared, and his jaw stiffened. “When did you get tested?”

  “Monday.”

  His voice lowered. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Mandy tilted her head, as she wiped away a tear. “I didn’t want to worry you.” She watched his face draw tight and knew he’d wanted her to confide in him, but it was her battle, not his, and she could deal with it any way she pleased, including confiding in who she wanted.

  When he stood, pressing his lips into a thin line, she realized he didn’t see it that way. Slowly and rigidly, he marched back toward the bathroom. Too shocked to follow, Mandy kept her bottom glued to the couch, but her eyes trailed his every move.

  It was supposed to have been a pinnacle moment for them. No cancer meant she could be with him, wholly. But not if he kept up that attitude.