They were enjoying a leisurely dinner in the Florida room the evening before Michal’s departure when Michal felt a sense of urgency, realizing this was her last chance to broach the subject of men.
“Aunt Sarah?”
It was that tone again, and Sarah recognized it immediately. The veiled attempt to sound casual, as if discussing something of no real significance. Michal had used it to introduce professors’ comments in class, her relationships with Beth and her siblings, and their continuing discussions about Ethiopia. Sarah smiled inwardly. “Hmm?”
They’d finished the chocolate ice cream that evening, a fitting finale for the week. Michal dawdled over the small amount left in her bowl, making it last as long as she could. “I wanted … um, to ask you about something. It’s just something silly.” Sarah resisted the temptation to jump into the silence. “There’s these two guys.”
“Uh-huh?”
“One’s name is Stephen.”
“I think you mentioned him earlier this week.”
“He’s really serious about his studies. Like I am.”
“That’s good. Shows responsibility and maturity.”
“Yeah. But there’s also this other guy …”
“Ha. There’s the rub.”
“His name’s Allistair.”
“Quite a name to live up to.”
“He’s a senior. And student body president.”
“Definitely interesting.”
Michal smiled. “And he … he’s not at all what I thought he’d be like, Aunt Sarah. He confuses me. For example. Stephen has one of those serious-looking computer watches. But Allistair wears one with Mickey Mouse on it.”
“Oh? Well, I kind of like the sound of this guy, Michal, with that kind of sense of humor. I’m a Mickey Mouse fan myself, you know.”
Michal smiled but then immediately bit her lip, sobering. “I’m not gonna need to choose between them ’cause I just plan to stay friends with both, you know? And besides, until I figure out what God wants me to do …”
Sarah got up out of her chair, motioning for Michal to follow. “Come outside a minute. I want to show you something.”
The pungent smell of the night air assaulted them with a burst of fragrances: jacaranda, gardenia, honeysuckle. The slightly damp yet sweet and salty smell of an evening near the gulf coast of Florida. It was perfectly clear out, not a cloud in the sky. And though Sarah’s home was in a well-populated area, where the stars weren’t as clear as they might have been, they were still abundantly evident.
Sarah lovingly put an arm around Michal’s shoulders and pointed upward. “Look at all those stars. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
Curious where this object lesson was going, Michal mumbled, “Mmm, sure are.”
“There’s this fascinating phenomena called averted vision. Notice how when you try to stare directly at the more faint stars you can’t really see them? It’s like … when you try to look directly at them, they disappear.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that before.”
“Pick one of those stars. Shift your sight back ’n’ forth, looking directly at it and then away from it. What do you notice about your peripheral vision?”
“I can see it again. Just barely, but it’s definitely there. That’s weird.”
“Sometimes, Michal, discovering God’s will is like looking at a star. Instead of staring directly at him, you need to pay more attention to your peripheral vision.”
“Okay. So … explain what you mean by that.”
“There are so many evidences around you to help make decisions. Like the people in your life. Like chapel speakers. Or maybe not.” She grinned mischievously and Michal shook her head. “Others might be professors. Friends too—special girlfriends. And sometimes … sometimes it’s even those creatures from another planet entirely—males. Ha.” Michal laughed at her. “Other evidences are what you’re studying and praying about. Your gifts from the Holy Spirit. Talents and interests you have. And there are the myriad of experiences happening around you—don’t overlook those either. See, all these evidences are hovering, and they can help you know God’s will for your life.”
“Wise aunts included in the list?”
“Possibly.” Sarah winked, but was instantly serious again. “The point is, Michal, all those things in your peripheral vision, so to speak, are there to inform you too. They’re like a … like a …” She groped for the right words to portray her meaning. “Like a mine, I guess. With veins of gold. You need to seek them out … see what their value is to help you make the major decisions of life.”
“Aunt Sarah, you know something I’ve never told Mom and Dad? Something I would love to do?” Michal ventured.
“What’s that?”
“Be a teacher. I’ve always wanted to teach children, ever since I can remember.” Her eyes filled with tears, blurring the stars. “But in a regular classroom with bright posters all over the walls. The ABCs along the top of the blackboard.” She grew more animated with each addition. “The children’s desks grouped in bunches … with welcome signs on each one. Signs I made out of all colors of construction paper.”
Sarah folded Michal into a tighter hug. “You know, I’ve often wondered when a hope becomes an expectation. Hope starts out innocent enough. And then it slides all too easily into the other. Happens to all of us, I’m afraid. But at the same time, there’s another voice you must listen to—what your heart’s telling you. Listen to your own mind and heart. God will speak to you there, too. He’s in the business of matching passions with gifts. Desires of the heart with answers to prayer.”
They turned to gaze up into the sky again.
“Those two young men you were telling me about?”
Michal knew her aunt would give her wise advice about Stephen and Allistair. Was eager to hear which one she approved of.
“Your heart will give you that answer, too.”
“But which one—?”
Sarah shook her head. “Oh now, darlin’ Michal. This is more exciting than reading the most exciting novel ever. My saying anything would take all the fun out of watchin’ you choose.”
They laughed, holding onto each other as though one couldn’t stand without the other’s support.
Saying good-bye the next morning was wrenchingly difficult for both. Tears filled Michal’s eyes, but Sarah skillfully directed her attention away from the separation toward the excitement of finishing her second semester, pointing out she’d soon be a sophomore rather than a mere freshman. And she focused on the relationships that awaited her, a commitment to help Beth, the fun of interacting with her suitemates, the exciting challenges Allistair and Stephen both presented.
“I love you so much,” Michal whispered.
“And I love you too, my darlin’ Michal.” Sarah looked into her eyes, noticed a vulnerability and insecurity that made her hasten to add, “Call me anytime you need to, okay? Promise me that?”
“I promise.”
Regretfully, Michal broke away from her aunt’s reassuring embrace. And felt the insecurity even more keenly. A voice within whispered, You’re going to need those arms again. Soon.
The dorm felt like an airport terminal on the busiest day of the year; it was so full of energy, suitcases, conversations, people. Everyone had a story from spring break she couldn’t wait to tell.
Michal patiently waited for her turn to share—gathered with Beth, Samantha, Jenny, Ruth, and Jessica in their suite’s lounge—but when she did she was equally exuberant, giving a full-body demonstration of riding a boogie board.
Only Beth seemed reserved, although she also told a few stories about her grandparents. How her Grandpapa Elliott—obviously suffering from some senility—called her Sandy the entire time, no matter how often she corrected him. She described how he’d laugh in embar
rassment and then explain, ‘“Oh, Sandy. I’m losing my mind, I truly am.’”
Beth added, giggling, “It got so I just answered to Sandy. When Grandma would call me Beth, I’d sometimes catch myself thinking, ‘Beth? Who’s Beth?’”
Michal noted that the hollows in Beth’s cheeks were gone, which pleased her. “Is your grandma a good cook? You look … healthier, Beth. You look good,” she said. The other girls chimed in, agreeing.
“Oh, yeah. She fed me, all right. Fried chicken. Mashed potatoes. Ham. Butter beans. Pinto beans. Coleslaw. Biscuits.”
“Aunt Sarah made biscuits almost every morning too,” Michal interjected. “I think they’re addictive.”
There was a brief rap on the door. “Michal? Someone for you in the lounge.”
The teasing started immediately. “Wonder who’s here for you already, hmm?” and “Allistair maybe?—the guy she’s never going to date again.” Michal reddened. Considered dashing back into her room for a quick check in the mirror, but immediately thought better of it, knowing instinctively it would increase the teasing tenfold. So, consoling herself that she didn’t care anyway, she resolutely started out the door, the teasing following.
“Tell him ‘hello’ for us, will you?”
“Don’t forget to tell Allistair this is your last date.”
“Why not greet him with a holy kiss?”
Which immediately sent them all into fits of laughter. Michal could hear their carrying-on all the way to the dorm’s lounge when she pulled open the door.
Where she saw Stephen, sprawled on the couch. Punching buttons on the remote, exactly like before.
“Hey, Stephen. Good to see you.” The passing thought I wish it had been Allistair flitted across her mind, immediately producing a wave of guilt. Which then made her want to make it up to him somehow. “Have a good break?”
Stephen didn’t bother standing at her approach, but he tugged off the ugly hat, presenting the more pleasing visage again. “Oh, it was awesome. It really was.” Michal sat down, and he inched closer to her.
“Well then … you must’ve done something pretty exciting?”
His face lit up. “My parents surprised me. We visited my brother—he’s a doctoral student at George Washington University. We went to all kinds of neat places in DC. The Smithsonian—the aviation building is probably my favorite. And we visited the Holocaust Museum again. You know, every time I see those pictures of the people who died, I wonder about all those people who never got to … to fulfill their destiny, you know? You’ve been there, right?”
“No, I—”
“Oh, you’ve just got to go. It’s amazing. This is my third time. I’m surprised your parents haven’t …”
Feeling embarrassed, Michal said, “They’re in Ethiopia, you know.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Well, anyway … I spent some time in the Library of Congress, too. Hours, as a matter of fact.” Stephen was quiet a moment. When he did start speaking again, it came out in a rush. “Oh geez, I feel bad. I mean … your family has sacrificed by going to Africa, giving up everything for God’s highest calling. And here I am, going on about seeing unimportant things like museums when you haven’t ever had the opportunity to—”
Michal interrupted, “No, actually, see … I’ve had a few experiences you haven’t had, Stephen.”
He appeared surprised at the novel thought. “Yeah? Like what?”
Though Michal had quickly asserted the existence of privileges, she went momentarily blank. And then the thought struck her. “Well, like you’ve been to zoos, I’m sure?”
“Oh, yeah. In Philadelphia, but also the National Zoo in DC. San Diego’s is super. Columbus, Ohio, has a great one. They’re known for the apes exhibit. So, do they have a good one in Ethiopia?”
Michal grinned. “Actually, I meant that when you’re in Ethiopia, you don’t have to go to a zoo. The animals are all around you.”
“Oh. Cool. Like what’s there?”
“Colobus monkeys. They’re amazing creatures. And I’ve seen ostriches in the wild.”
“Well. I never thought of that. Well … hey, I’d better go. Gotta get unpacked. Mom sent so many snacks with me I brought a whole separate suitcase just for food. Bags of chips, candy bars, cookies, energy bars … you name it.”
“My aunt sent food with me too. But it’s all homemade. Things like brownies. Chocolate chip cookies. Snickerdoodles—I just love those, don’t you?” Stephen abruptly stood up and she joined him. He was almost to the door, had turned his back to her when she added, “Well, it’s back to the grind tomorrow.”
He stopped, his eyes darting around the room. Surveying it for other students—and finding no one else present—he reached out and grabbed Michal to him. Without warning, like the last time, came the urgent kiss.
It took Michal’s breath away. There was the sudden thrill of being in a man’s arms, a tall and very good-looking man’s arms. The intoxicating feel of being wanted in a physically sensual way. The almost giddy sense of being overpowered by someone who was attractive to her.
“I just know God wants us to enjoy this closeness,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ve prayed about it, our intimacy.” And just as abruptly as he’d taken her into his arms, he let her go. “See you later.”
Michal stood there, blinking, realizing how strange she felt. Exposed. For others had come into the lounge by then, witnessing Stephen’s kiss.
Deeply embarrassed, Michal could feel herself blushing profusely. And she fled.
By the time she got back to the suite, most of the students had scattered to get ready for classes the next day. But her own suitemates peered curiously at her.
“How was it?”
“Was Allistair glad to see you?”
Determined to give only the briefest of responses, Michal replied, “It wasn’t Allistair, actually. It was Stephen.”
Disappointed faces and groans all around.
“No. Really, it was good to see Stephen.” Michal closed the door and immediately looked into Beth’s questioning eyes. “Not you, too?”
“Michal. Stephen’s no Allistair.”
“No, he’s not. Maybe he’s … better.” Michal let it go, electing to entice Beth instead. “Aunt Sarah sent chocolate, Beth. Chocolate chip cookies. Brownies. Fudge even.”
Her roommate’s eyes widened considerably. “Get that box over here before I drool all over the place, will you?”
They laughed, Michal hoping the trip to her grandparents had been exactly what Beth needed. She handed Beth the box of treats, feeling the worry she’d carried for her roommate ease away.
It wasn’t long, however, before a new set of worries settled in. Allistair didn’t call. As late afternoon wore away to evening, she ate far too much chocolate in her anxiousness. Fidgeted. Began dropping things. Until Beth, exasperated, finally said, “Okay, spill it. What’s up with you?”
Michal shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, yeah, you do. It’s about Allistair, isn’t it?” Michal gave Beth a look of amazement. “Oh good grief. Don’t look so surprised. Doesn’t take a genius to see right through you. You really aren’t so terribly hard to figure out, sorry to inform you.”
“But honestly … I don’t know which one I like better. Stephen or Allistair. Which one I should like better.”
Beth smirked and raised one eyebrow.
“What’s that mean?”
“What-ever.” She grabbed her pajamas, the bucket with her toiletries, and reached for the door. “As for me, I’m pooped. Time to get ready for bed.”
Michal’s eyes filled with tears from pent-up frustrations and deep disappointment—disappointment in Stephen for not even asking about her spring break. In Allistair, for not contacting her at all. In herself … for wanting. And she r
ecognized her disappointment in God, too. For not being clearer. For not making anything … easy.
Oh, Lord, she prayed, I can’t determine your will concerning Ethiopia, can’t make a decision, so it seems as though I’m just kind of … drifting that way. Like I’m riding the waves at the beach again, allowing a force underneath to simply push me along. Is this the way you intended for me to go back to Africa? By drifting?
And that decision seems tied to me seeking out Stephen—or Allistair. I don’t know what to do about them either. Everything’s such a mess.
She glanced at the clock. Shook her head, willing herself to accept the fact that Allistair was not going to call. But as she gathered up her texts and notebooks to stuff into her backpack, she squeezed her eyes shut. Willing the threatening tears to accept the facts also.
The next morning—the Monday of the week leading up to Easter—Michal hit the alarm clock with even more venom than usual. She stared at the ceiling, thinking through the week that stretched before her. Lectured herself about expectations concerning Stephen. Even more so, Allistair.
The various ministry teams were scheduled to share about their trips in chapel throughout the week. Since Allistair’s was the most important one sent out, his team was up first. With Allistair, of course, as the main speaker.
Maybe afterward, I can approach him, casually welcoming him back? And then she jerked the covers back, forced herself to get out of bed. Get real, Michal. Unless he seeks you out first, there’s no way you’ll be talking to Allistair—ever again.
She saw Beth was already up, noting again the positive changes in Beth since they’d returned to school.
As Michal and Beth walked to chapel, Michal vacillated between hope and discouragement—alternating from one to the other with nearly every step. Until she saw Allistair and Tiffany chatting away amicably with the other members of their team. They hovered around the front of the large auditorium, laughing with an easy and familiar banter.
When Allistair stepped up into the pulpit a few minutes later, Michal could barely look up at him because she was so afraid her longing would be blatantly obvious on her face. That all who glanced at her would surely see the hurt written there much too plainly. And when throngs of students huddled around Allistair afterward, Michal quickly abandoned any lingering thoughts of approaching him. Sending one last swift look of disappointment toward the happy group—with Allistair in the middle—she hurried to class.
Bridge to a Distant Star Page 27