Love Through Time ~ Revised Edition

by Nana Prah

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “I’m doing well, thank you.”

  “That’s good...that you’re...um...good.”

  This didn’t sound like the confident Sean who’d taken the liberty to sooth her when she’d cried. Had she imagined a different man? Jasmine took pity on both of them and asked, “How’s school?”

  “School is great! It’s really busy, but I’m staying on top of it. I keep reminding myself that there’s only one more semester left after this one and then the bar, of course, and then I’ll be a full-fledged lawyer.” He took a deep inhale. “I’m getting excited. There’s so much I want to do as a lawyer. There’s a lot of injustice in the world which needs to be corrected. It’s my greatest desire to make an impact, you know?”

  The words kept tumbling out of his mouth verifying that she’d imagined the smooth man she’d met at Grandma’s.

  Relieved that there’d be no chance of liking him as more than a friend, she chuckled. “I know what you mean about wanting to make a difference in the world.”

  “Sorry, I’m babbling.”

  “No problem.”

  “Would you like to meet up and have lunch?”

  She sat up straight. Uh-oh. The confidence is slipping back in. Not good. “Depends on when.”

  “How’s tomorrow afternoon?”

  “I have class all day,” she said with genuine disappointment. She had no desire to date, but seeing him again couldn’t hurt.

  “Oh.”

  How much harm could he do to her heart and her life? None if you don’t let him in. “I finish at four, though. Maybe we can turn the lunch into dinner.” For a moment she wanted to recall the answer. What’s done is done.

  “Yeah, that sounds great,” he replied. “Where are your classes?”

  “At Boston College.”

  “Do you know Mario’s Restaurant on Rosemont Ave?”

  “Who doesn’t? They make the best Italian food.” Perhaps she should tone down the excitement a little.

  “How about if we meet there at five?”

  “That would be fine.”

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yep.”

  “Have a good night.”

  “You, too.” With any other conversation she would’ve hung up. She held on for a few seconds more to see if he’d add anything before clicking the phone off.

  A war raged within her. Joy bubbled up, spilled over, and did a dance at the thought of seeing him again when she thought she never would. Fear took up arms on the other side, bringing up questions she couldn’t answer and stamping down her self-esteem.

  Not acceptable. It’s a date. That’s all. Nothing more than eating good food has to come from it.

  And then a greater concern took precedence. Oh my goodness, what am I going to wear? It had to be professional enough for school and nice enough for the encounter--she refused to call it a date. She picked up the phone to call her sister.

  Carly answered on the third ring, “Hello.”

  “I need you to get over here right now. We have to pick out an outfit for my dinner tomorrow.”

  “Did I hear you correctly? Are you going out on a date?”

  “No. I said I’m going out to dinner.”

  Carly ignored Jasmine’s protest. “Who’s this date with?”

  “I’ll explain everything when you get here.”

  “You expect me to leave my husband on a Friday night to help you pick out clothes for some fictitious date?”

  Jasmine tapped a finger at the center of her forehead and tried to keep her patience. “It’s real, but it’s not a date, and yes I do. Tell Kevin it’s an emergency or you can drag him here with you.”

  “I was just playing. They called him in for an emergency surgery.”

  “So what are you waiting for? Why aren’t you here already?”

  Carly laughed. “I’m on my way.”

  Thirty minutes later, they stood in the depths of Jasmine’s closet, trying to find the perfect outfit, while she gave Carly the rundown of the conversation with Sean.

  “What I don’t understand is how he got around Ed. He must’ve given him your number because it’s not listed,” Carly said while holding up a dark brown, knee-length, leather skirt. “What about this? It’s sexy, but you can wear it to work.”

  Jasmine took the skirt from her sister and tried it on. “It’s cute. With what top?” She continued to ransack her closet. “I was surprised, too. Ed doesn’t like his friends talking to us, never mind asking us out.”

  “Don’t I know it! Do you remember his friend Liam? I had such a crush on him. Do you remember what Ed said to him? Let me get it just right.” Carly stood on the bed to reach Ed’s height and deepened her voice, “Liam, man, I love my sisters. I’m your friend and I know what you’re capable of. Do not, I repeat, do not bring your capabilities to bear on my sister. She’s off limits. Do you understand? A nod won’t do it, man, I need a verbal agreement. Do you understand?” Carly giggled as she hopped off the bed and resumed her normal voice. “And the question was punctuated with a severe squeeze of his arm, so Liam had no choice but to understand.”

  Jasmine laughed so hard she doubled over. “Oh, my goodness, that was right on point.”

  “I was so embarrassed.” Carly wiped the tears from her eyes. “I never got a crush on any of his friends again.”

  “I was lucky. His friends were nothing more to me than annoying, at least until now.” Jasmine returned to the clothing search. “I wonder how Sean got past Ed. I’m guessing Sean has an upper level contact with the CIA and called in a favor to get my number.”

  “Sean seems like a nice guy,” Carly said.

  “Yeah. Help me find a top for my dinner.”

  Carly braced her hands on her hips. “Why won’t you call it a date?”

  Jasmine shrugged. “Because it’s not.”

  “Let me tell you something.” Carly pointed a finger at Jasmine. “An outing between a man and a women who like each other is called a date.”

  “It’s just two people hanging out.”

  “He’s not David, you know.”

  Jasmine looked away from her sister and mumbled, “I know.”

  “Give him a chance. Don’t let one stupid man ruin your chances at love for the rest of your life.”

  Jasmine had tried to tell herself the same thing over and over, but the mind said one thing while the heart feared another. “Back to the clothes.”

  Carly allowed Jasmine to change the subject. “We’re on it.”

  ***

  Upon his arrival at Mario’s, Sean spotted Jasmine seated at the bar. When their gazes met he placed a hand on his stomach to help reduce the pain. He should’ve anticipated it. Filled with concern when he noticed her death grip on the bar, he rushed to her side. “Are you all right?”

  Her beatific smile sent another punch to his gut. “The dizziness is passing. How about you?”

  “It came and went.” Twice. “Are you okay to walk?”

  “I think so.”

  Their initial contact as he held her hands brought the impossible awareness of every molecule they each possessed. The sensation subsided, only to be replaced by a turnover of his heart. He pulled her off of the stool, allowing a couple of inches to separate them as he watched to make sure she wouldn’t topple to the ground.

  Sean led them to the hostess who found them a table. It took a concerted effort to release Jasmine and go around to his chair once he’d held out her seat. How could the touch of a stranger be so addictive? But his heart kept telling him he knew her.

  The waiter offered them each a menu. “Good evening. Would you like to order a drink?”

  “I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri, please,” Jasmine ordered.

  “Guinness.”

  The waiter nodded and left.

  “So you’re one of those girly drinkers.”

  Jasmine grinned. “Are you judging me?”

  “Just an observation.�
��

  “I like sweet things. Don’t get me wrong. I can handle a shot every once in a while, but I prefer the more delicious drinks.”

  He wrenched his gaze from her face and peeped at the menu, although he’d be content to look at her all night.

  Jasmine closed the menu and put it on the table. “I don’t know why I’m reading it. I’ve got it committed to memory.”

  “Me, too. Do you feel like splitting a pizza?”

  “Sounds good. A meat lover’s?”

  He placed a hand over his chest. “Ahhh, a girl after my own heart,” he said as a joke, but he meant it. Despite the suspicious, niggling feeling of mistrust that continued to sit at the back of his mind, he’d started to believe that Jasmine was a woman he could be with.

  He had waited a month to call her because of that inexplicable negative feeling. He’d always believed in listening to his instincts, but his gut wasn’t talking. Instead, it was being sucker punched every time he encountered her.

  But something drew him to her. He couldn’t deny their amazing attraction.

  Even now, he had difficulty keeping his hands to himself, instead of stroking her smooth skin or smoothing down the hair that now fell to her shoulders instead of a flyaway Afro which suited her just as well.

  In the end, the need to get to know her overrode the strange distrust he felt regarding her.

  The waiter returned and placed their drinks in front of them. Sean gave the pizza order, adding a side order of salads for each of them.

  “A healthy man, I see.”

  “It’s all about balance.”

  “I agree. Cholesterol, excessive protein, and fat, all balanced out with a few leaves of lettuce and cucumbers.”

  He chuckled. “Well, maybe it’s not the healthiest meal, but we could do worse.”

  Silence settled after the last sigh that always came after laughter.

  Sean asked the first question that came to his mind. “Why do you call Ed SB?”

  “It stands for spoiled brat. I used to tease him about being spoiled when he was younger and, when my parents told me to stop, I took to calling him SB.”

  Recalling why she couldn’t meet with him earlier, he asked, “How were your classes today?”

  “Good. I had two today, but they’re weekend courses so they last for three hours each.”

  “What are you studying?”

  Jasmine paused before answering, “I’m a lecturer.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know. Ed mentioned that you were a nurse. He wasn’t all that forthcoming with information about you. I had to wrestle him to the ground before he’d give me your number. He gave it with the threat of maiming me or, was it castration, if I hurt you?”

  Jasmine shook her head. “Sounds like Ed. Carly and I were wondering how you got past him. For being the youngest he can be a little overprotective.”

  “So I learned. But honestly, I just asked and he gave it to me.”

  “Oh.” She waited a beat. “And it took you a month to call?”

  “Well, I was kind of...” He hesitated.

  “What?”

  He held her gaze becoming mesmerized by the intensity of her eyes. He’d heard the saying that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but he’d never believed it until that moment. “I was working up the courage.”

  He decided to tell her the partial truth. No woman wanted to hear on the first date that he didn’t trust her, even if he had no idea why.

  That’s at least a fifth date revelation.

  She pushed her glass in a circle on the table. “Am I that intimidating?”

  He had a feeling she wasn’t completely joking. “Not at all. It’s been a long while since I asked someone out.” And I didn’t want to muck it up with you. Sean held back a smile at the memory of himself practicing the phone call before he’d dialed, only to have the script fly out the window when he heard her sweet voice. “So what do you teach?” he asked before she could ask any questions about his lack of dating skills.

  “Nursing at a master’s level.”

  “I see.” And then he understood. “You have your doctorate, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s why your grandmother called you doctor when we were rowing down the river. It confused me because I knew you were a nurse.”

  She blinked a few times before a slow smile spread across her face. “I’m surprised you remembered. Her pride knows no bounds when it comes to her grandchildren.”

  “I could tell. She’s a wonderful woman.”

  “Yes, she is. If not a little shocking in what she says sometimes.”

  “Which makes her hilarious. Do you enjoy lecturing?”

  “Oh yes, very much.” Her love of teaching reflected in her body language as she scooted to the edge of her seat and her hand gestures went wild. “I enjoy imparting knowledge to people, especially those who really want to learn.” “Sorry, I tend to get carried away when I talk about my work.”

  “Please don’t apologize. I’m the same way when it comes to using my law degree to make a difference in the world.”

  “I noticed.”

  He returned her grin and once again the staring commenced. “So deep,” he murmured.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Your eyes. It’s as if I can see forever in them.” His face filled with heat as he averted his gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. That was a weird thing to say.”

  Sean could’ve kicked himself. What was wrong with him?

  He couldn’t let his momentary lapse of mental filter disturb the flow. “In one of his rare moments of information sharing, Ed mentioned that you work at a hospital.”

  She took a sip of her daiquiri. “I do. In a hospice unit.”

  He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “Isn’t a hospice where people go to die?”

  “Yes. We take care of them in the last stages of life. Usually they’re cancer patients, but we take anyone with a terminal disease.”

  “Isn’t that depressing? Working with people you know are going to die?”

  She folded her hands on the table. “Believe it or not, we all know we’re going to die.”

  “Yeah, but they know they’re dying soon,” he countered. “And they know from what.”

  “Many of them have come to terms with it.”

  “But isn’t it hard for you to see people deathly ill all the time. I remember when my grandfather got sick. We took care of him at home and had a nurse living with us. It was horrible to see him deteriorating.” Sean bowed his head at the memory. “He’d been such a strong vibrant man and, in the end, he became skeleton. The amazing part was his ability to stay positive. Not that he’d survive, but that he’d done what was right in his life. He said he was ready to go whenever God saw fit to take him.”

  Jasmine reached out and covered his hand. He felt a spark course through him. He could tell she felt it too because she retracted her hand for a second before touching him again.

  “You were very close to him,” she observed.

  He blinked to keep the tears at bay and turned his hand so their fingers interlocked. He should change the subject to something more lighthearted, but something about Jasmine made him want to bear his soul. “Yes, we were. It might sound strange, but I considered him to be my best friend. I was his youngest grandchild. He showered me with love and attention, yet didn’t spare any of it from anyone else. He was an amazing bottomless barrel of love and joy.”

  Jasmine remained silent.

  “He died six years ago, and sometimes it feels like it happened yesterday.” An unexpected wave of comfort washed over him. “I feel better,” he stated after a minute.

  “Good.”

  “Did you do that?” He couldn’t believe how calm he felt, when just a minute ago he’d been distraught about losing his grandfather.

  She hitched a shoulder. “It’s one of my gifts. I bring comfort to those who are hurting. I empathize with them and then provide comfor
t in any small way I can.” She paused. “I have the ability to feel their emotional pain and am able to help relieve them of some of it.

  “Do you absorb it?”

  “Not exactly. I have no idea how it works. It’s something I’ve always been able to do.”

  Enthralled with the revelation he asked, “Does it overwhelm you?”

  She canted her head. “It’s only happened once. The man hadn’t made it to acceptance and hovered in depression. I got sucked in and became depressed for a few days.”

  “Whoa.”

  “But then it left me. My mother made me promise not to give so much of myself again.”

  “You don’t seem the type to follow orders when someone can be helped.”

  “And you’d be right.”

  He chuckled. “Your gift sounds amazing. You must be a wonderful nurse.”

  She smiled and released her hand from his, but didn’t comment. The waiter delivered their salads and they started eating.

  “What were you doing before you went to law school?”

  Sean wanted to talk more about her. How fair would that be? “I roamed the world.”

  She stopped the fork halfway to her mouth. “For real?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’d love to travel more. You must’ve been poor as dirt.”

  “Not really.”

  “Did you travel for your job?”

  Should he tell her about his wealth? Maybe the feeling of mistrust stemmed from that. Perhaps she, like so many others, was a gold digger. He pushed the thought aside. Jasmine was no more a gold digger than he was a priest.

  “My family has money. My parents set up a trust fund for me that I was able to access when I turned twenty-one.” He chewed a forkful of his salad as he watched her.

  Her expression remained neutral. “Oh.”

  “No big deal.”

  “This coming from someone who has his own trust fund to a middle class woman who’s had to work two jobs in order to get herself through college and is still paying off student loans for her postgraduate degrees. Yeah, no big deal,” she teased with a wink.

  He smiled. “It’s true.”

  “Mmmm hmmm. What did you do before you toured the world?”