by Devon Ashley
I wasn’t even sure if I was ready for marriage. We’d been dating for a little more than two years now, but for God’s sake, I was only twenty! My chest began to burn and it wasn’t because of the choking. I sipped on my tea, but it only seemed to feed the anxious butterflies flitting around in my stomach.
I wasn’t an expert on panic attacks, but I guessed these bodily reactions weren’t normal when thinking about marriage. And that upset me even more, ‘cause since I never really thought about it before, I was beginning to wonder if somewhere deep inside, I questioned our relationship. On the surface it was perfect, but our conflicting schedules made me feel like we were growing apart.
“So how are we supposed to know if a guy’s the one?”
Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know. With Jhett it just feels right. The other guys I dated took effort, you know? Jhett doesn’t. We hardly fight, seem to like a lot of the same things, and seem to tolerate the things we disagree on.”
“But we’re only twenty, Sophie. Aren’t we supposed to date a bunch of guys before we decide this stuff?”
She bobbed her head side to side playfully as she thought, swallowing her food. “It’s kinda like the dress. Sure, there will be others I’ll like just as well, but I’ve already found one that I love and who complements me. So why go in search of something else when I know I’ll always be happy with this one? Jhett and I are good together, and I don’t have to date him five more years to confirm that.”
“I don’t know. It just feels weird.”
“Don’t you want Robert to take care of you?”
Rolling my eyes, I deadpanned, “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Miss Independent. Look, I know you can, but Robert can give you a hell of a better life than what you could ever do alone. Probably even better than any other guy you’d meet too.”
“I’m not really comfortable with that being a reason to choose Robert. The money’s nice but it’d be completely shallow of me to marry him because he can provide a better life. Besides, marrying into his family means I’d get the mother-in-law from hell.”
“She still up your ass?”
“Like a proctologist. Nothing I ever do is good enough. To her I’m just this leech that’s attached myself to Robert and I’m trying to bleed him dry. I mean, why couldn’t she be like your mom? I’d kill to have a mom like that.”
“My mom is your mom, Jenna. You know that.”
“I do. But sometimes I just feel out of place. And his mother sure knows how to amplify that.”
“Screw her. Look, you want the straight up truth?” I nodded. “Yeah, you weren’t born into a lucrative family like the rest of us. You by far got the shitty end of the stick when you were abandoned and couldn’t get an adopted family to stick. You didn’t like your situation and you were smart enough to work your ass off and get a scholarship to a school that did get you mingling with wealthier students. You met a guy, fell in love, bada bing and done. You’ve been fighting all your life to better your situation, so don’t go feeling guilty ‘cause the guy that ended up loving you is well off. Let people call you a gold digger. We all know it’s not true. Screw. His. Mom. So you’re not gonna bring family wealth with you if you marry. She’ll get over it. It’s not like they need it anyways.”
I suddenly regretted the balsamic vinegar I drizzled over my salad, the acid churning roughly in my stomach. I tossed the bread aside, my stomach now more interested in getting food out than in. Cringing, I asked, “People think I’m a gold digger?”
She waved me off again. “Just his mother. Very few of us knew the truth about you at school. And I promise we didn’t go behind your back on that.”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, I know.”
Sophie sighed and pushed her plate to the side. “Happier subject. Tomorrow Jhett and I wanna take the two of you out and celebrate Robert’s birthday early, ‘cause it’s just too close to finals for us to get out there for it.”
Yep, having a birthday in early December kinda sucked during the college years. “He and Jhett are the only ones that’ll be twenty-one, so what exactly did you have in mind?”
That creepy Cheshire grin spread across her face, and I knew I was gonna hate whatever she was thinking. “Oh, I have a bar or two in mind.”
“Sophieeeee…” I drew out, practically reprimanding her in advance.
“Oh, please, sour puss. You know we all have fake IDs.”
“I don’t,” I rebutted, crossing my arms.
“You do now!” she said all giddy-like. “Just consider it an early Christmas present.”
I forced the best smile I could, and judging by Sophie’s reaction, I pulled it off, but I couldn’t care less about a fake ID. Though it may come in handy when I was forced to spend Christmas with Robert’s mother next month…
“I GOT MY DRESS!” Sophie shouted the moment we entered the living room. Jhett and Sophie’s dad were stretched out in two recliners that sandwiched Robert on the sofa, watching a football game, and her mother was at the back of the room, reading by the window. Needless to say, the guys didn’t react with the excitement she’d been hoping for. Her mother beamed, however, and tossed her book aside to join us as we leaned against the back of the sofa. Robert reached up to gently stroke my arm, smiling warmly.
“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful!” Sophie’s mom hugged her, then held out her hand to the guys. “All right boys. Pay up.”
All three groaned as they reached into their back pockets, removing several bills from their wallets.
“That’s right. Momma always knows best.” Sophie’s mom snatched the money from one guy at a time, starting with her husband.
“Diane, no one likes an obnoxious winner.”
“Says the sore loser. Next!” she called to Jhett, who grumpily obliged. Sophie impatiently tapped her foot and threw him a contemptuous glare. “You placed a bet on me?”
He threw his hands up in surrender. “You love to shop! I thought for sure you’d shop around awhile before buying one!”
“And you?” Sophie asked Robert as he added his bills to the pile in Diane’s hand.
“I gave you a few months.”
“Daddy?” Sophie probed further.
“Sorry, hun. I figured you’d procrastinate to the end, and then ask to have something specially made.”
If it dropped any lower, Sophie’s mouth would have hit the floor. Her mother leaned in and gave her a tight squeeze. “Only her momma knew she’d be so excited she couldn’t resist the first pretty dress she saw.”
Oh, boy. Sophie may have actually been offended this time, and with the look she gave me, I wished she’d focus her attention elsewhere. “What about you?”
“Me?” I burst. “Like I could afford the ante to one of their bets.” Looking down at Robert, who had replanted himself back on the sofa, I tossed him an evil glare as I added, “And I didn’t know about it anyways.”
“Hey, I was going by what you told me. I thought it was a safe bet,” Robert explained. I gently smacked the back of his head.
Diane had counted their money and was now heading out of the room. “Who-hoo! Tiffany’s, here I come!”
“Well, I hope you’ll be picking me up something pretty to go with my dress while you’re there,” Sophie called as she followed her out.
I figured they’d need some time for the mother-daughter bonding thing, so that left me with the guys. Then again, the way Robert was looking me up and down like he could eat me, I may be hanging out with just one soon enough.
“I like the way these snowdrops bloom downwards. It’d be totally cute in a winter bouquet.” Sophie returned the flower to its bucket and ran her fingers across the next few flowers. This particular aisle was dedicated to mostly cream-shaded flowers, and Sophie was trying to choose accent flowers that would really get her dusty rose peonies to pop. She elbowed me in the side. “You know, you could get married in the winter and use them.”
“Thanks. I’ll
consider it,” I lied.
I fell back, trying to hide my yawn. This was way more exciting for Sophie than it was for me. I elongated my neck, stretching out the tension. Holding it back, I stared through the skylights, watching the small snow flurries congregate on the clear glass, slowly trying to block out our view of the winter sky. The heater was making this place too warm, and now I was all sleepy. I yawned again, this time stretching my arms and letting my mouth go uncovered.
You know that feeling you get when you’re being watched? Yep…totally getting that vibe right now. I swept the room as best I could. There were a ton of aisles here, and some of the floral stems reached high enough to obstruct my view. But still, it didn’t take long to find what I was looking for.
I inhaled a sharp breath. “Sophie? Where exactly is this flower shop?”
“Floral district.”
“I figured that. I mean, which city?”
She looked at me like I was crazy, and I suddenly felt borderline at the moment. “I see you’ve been making good use of that fake ID I gave you. Philadelphia, sweetie.”
Impossible. My heart beat madly against its prison of ribs as Evan shared my gaze from several aisles over, his face perfectly squeezed between two bundles of roses in similar shades of dark red. His goofy grin was amused by my shock…or the embarrassing yawn and stretch I just put out for all the world to see. He tipped his head once to say hello, so I knew he recognized me, and though I couldn’t hear it, I could feel he was chuckling at my expense.
“Crap.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. I just need to go to the bathroom.”
I hurried off as Sophie muttered, “You don’t have to advertise number two, Jenna. Just go.”
My pace slowed as I neared his aisle, my head carefully peeking around the abundance of pink lilies on the end cap. My heart quickened, the back of my neck feeling hotter. But he wasn’t there.
But I know I saw him! I’d recognize that shaggy, dirty-blond hair anywhere. I continued walking down the main aisle, checking left and right for him. Nothing but women; others like us probably choosing their wedding scheme. I sighed in frustration, my heart trying to come down from beating itself into a frenzy.
Maybe my head’s just screwing with me. Whether he was here or not, I knew it was a dream ‘cause Thanksgiving was last week, and Robert and I had been home for several days now. I was not in Philadelphia with Sophie choosing flowers. She hadn’t even gotten that far into her planning yet.
My shoulders slumped in defeat, and I berated myself for feeling that disappointment. Why was my heart racing to see Evan anyway? It had better been a freak out over seeing him and nothing more.
I spun and jumped out of my skin, just shy of ramming Evan. His hair was a little longer than the last time I saw him, and he still rocked that sexy, messy bed-head look. His eyes were still as gorgeous as ever, the gold in the center of his hazel eyes really lighting up from the sunbeams squeezing through the sky windows.
Wait. Sunbeams? Two seconds ago it was on the verge of a blizzard. Freakin’ dream. How in the hell he’d always managed to take over certain elements in my dream was beyond me. And of course, he wasn’t dressed for the cold weather, bumming out in a t-shirt, cut-off cargos and flip-flops.
Unfortunately, I was still dressed in a long sleeved shirt and jeans, and this room was getting way too hot. I tugged at the neck of my shirt, trying to create some type of airflow to my chest, where beads of sweat were trying to bubble out. Surely my cheeks were flushed too.
He looked at me curiously, cocked his head and said, “Jenna?”
Crap, crap, crap, crap!
“Uh, yeah. Hey. Evan, right?” I asked casually, faking nonchalance, stepping back to give us some degree of separation.
He nodded. “Wow. That really was you. I haven’t seen you in forever.”
A year and a half actually. At least this time he didn’t think his name was Chance. But this was bad. If he was manipulating the scene around me, then he really was inside my dream right now. And that meant… “Oh, shit, Evan. What the hell did you do to land yourself here?”
My panic confused him, stunned him a little. “What am I doing here?” He repeated, his eyes beginning to sweep the aisles of flowers. “I know I’m not typically hanging out in a flower shop…and for the life of me can’t remember why I came here in the first place…but…”
I snapped my fingers in his face. “Evan, look at me. This is my dream. You’re not supposed to be here.”
That got a chuckle out of him. “Are you feeling okay, Jenna? You’re turning all red and speaking jibberish.”
“Well, that’s your fault.” My tone was so heated I was practically snapping at him. “I was having a nice winter dream and then you came along and made it feel like the freakin’ rainforest in here. So yeah, I’m a little hot right now.”
He scratched the back of his head, looking ready to bail on my crazy ass. “And how exactly did I do that?” he challenged.
“Evan. What month is it?”
“December.”
“Yeah. Look at what you’re wearing! Look out the freakin’ skylights!” I cried, thrusting my arm towards them in frustration. Apparently, I was a little too loud ‘cause it drew Sophie’s attention, who was now only three aisles away as she browsed the flowers.
“Jenna!” she called. “What are you doing? Come on. You said you’d help me decide on the concept.”
“Alright,” I called back, only to placate her, ‘cause I knew this wasn’t real. When I turned back to Evan, his head was bent over, his thumb and middle finger pressing hard as he stroked his brows back and forth.
I gasped shakily. “What’s wrong?”
He lifted his head towards me, looking tired and sick. “I don’t know. I just have a really bad headache.”
I reached for his shoulder, my attempt to comfort him without too much physical contact. “Something happened to your head, right? Can you remember?”
His mouth opened as his brain searched for the answer, but before he could tell me, he was gone. Like that crazy kid in Willy Wonka. One second he was there, the next, his body zapped into nothingness, leaving nothing but a set of heat waves that dissipated in two seconds.
Oh-my-God, Oh-my-God, OH-MY-GOD!
My lungs inhaled the largest breath ever. Suddenly I was screaming Evan’s name over and over again as I stumbled up and down the aisles, twisting every which way, desperately seeking him out, not caring that I was knocking over the fake dream goers. There was this hollowness inside my heart, and it began to whimper with the realization that no matter how loud I screamed, or how far I ran, Evan wasn’t coming back.
I’d been pacing in my kitchen for ten minutes now, eyeing the slick black phone on the island warily. My insides were twisting with anxiety, and as hard as my hands were digging into my hips, it’s a wonder they hadn’t left permanent indentations yet.
I’d been freakin’ out for hours since I woke up in a panic. I tried falling back to sleep, just to see if he’d reappear again, but for the life of me, I just couldn’t fall under again. My brain was going crazy trying to figure out if that was really him, and if it was, what his abrupt departure could mean. He’d never left like that before. It was always under my control, as he just stayed until I woke up, minus that time he walked out on me. But he literally walked away that night. There was never a POOF! And that’s what had me incredibly worried. Did he…? I was too afraid to even say the word bouncing around in my mind.
Curse my stupidity for deleting Evan’s contact information. Having it wouldn’t have meant I was cheating on Robert. Evan didn’t even have mine, so it’s not like he could’ve called me. And now, here I was, needing it desperately and couldn’t call!
Well, at least not directly. But I could call his family’s home.
My palms flattened my cheeks, my fingers splayed across my eyes, allowing the tiniest of peep holes. God, what if Evan was fine and he was the one that answered? Then it�
��d look like I was trying to let him back in. And seriously, that’s the furthest thing from a good idea.
But there’s no rule saying who I could and couldn’t be friends with.
Seriously. Why was this such an issue? And why wouldn’t my foot stop tapping on the floor now that I was standing still? I was allowed to have friends. And there’s no reason I couldn’t check up on them every once in awhile. Right?
Ah, screw it.
I snatched the phone and dialed information, asking for the Gilden residence in Rutland, Vermont. Thank God there was only one. Daniel and Marie. My fingers actually trembled as I punched in the ten digits, but my heart really began to race once the phone began ringing on the other end, and for that split second when a woman’s voice said hello, I almost chickened out and hung up on her.
Of course Caller ID probably would’ve screwed me if I had. Freakin’ technology.
“Um. Hi! Hello.” Stupid, Jenna! Why not say it a third time in a foreign language? Then, with just one breath, I dimwittedly blabbered, “Uh, my name is Jenna and I’m a friend of Evan’s from high school and I seemed to have misplaced his number and I’d really like to catch up with him to see how he’s doing and I was wondering if I could get it from you guys.”
Ugh. I smacked my forehead. A hole. I needed a hole to bury myself in. Someplace I wouldn’t see the light of day for months. I was such an idiot!
“Ohhhh,” the woman lamented. “You must have heard about what happened to him.”
My chest suddenly ten times heavier, my hand felt for the seat of the barstool, confirming the route my body needed to fall to avoid crashing on the floor. “I heard a rumor that he may have been hurt. Was he?”
The woman sighed, and when she spoke again, I realized her voice was probably too mature to be Evan’s mom. “Yes. I’m afraid he had an accident playing soccer. He hit his head on the goal somehow, and is still unconscious.”
I gasped, my free hand suddenly splayed across my chest. “Oh, I am so sorry!” I stood and began pacing again, my head thrown back and my hand smothering my eyes and forehead. “I can’t believe he hit his head again. Is he at the hospital in Rutland?” Please say yes. The nurses there would totally tell me everything.