The Pages of Her Life

by James L. Rubart

  Hey. Sorry. Still waking up. I got to sleep really late last night.

  Got your calls. I’ll call you on the way in.

  She sent the text, set her phone on the bathroom counter, and stepped over to the shower. But before she could slip off her pajamas and turn on the water, her phone rang.

  Kayla. Might as well pick up.

  “Hey.”

  “Sorry, this can’t wait, Ally.”

  “Okay, no problem.”

  “I got a call this morning.” Kayla giggled.

  “From?”

  “Mila Matthews.” Kayla laughed again.

  The bathroom suddenly seemed empty of air. “What?”

  “She wants to join us. Can you believe it? A three-way partnership. She’d bring all her accounts. And get this—she’d split them with us. And she has some big ones. It wouldn’t be a ton more money, but at least a twenty percent bump, and she’d be a great addition to our company.”

  A thimbleful of air puffed out of Allison’s mouth as she stared at herself in the mirror. This couldn’t be happening. Could it? Pray one day. Get an answer the morning after. This kind of thing only happened in cheesy made-for-TV movies. Not real life. “Too good to be true” in Allison’s life had often meant she needed to cover her head because the second, third, fourth, and fifth shoes were about to drop.

  “Al? Did you hear me?”

  “Yes, but . . . tell me what happened. What she said.”

  “She’s been thinking about it ever since she mentioned it to me a year ago. Did I tell you she made a casual comment about it last year?”

  “No.” The word barely made it through Allison’s lips.

  “Anyway, doesn’t matter. She’s been thinking about it a bunch, and then she realized it’s tons more fun to work in a partnership than for just yourself. I mean, it can totally be exactly that, and better than that—if it’s the right people—and like I just said, she would bring all her clients over. Think about this, Al!”

  Through the phone Allison heard thumping and pictured Kayla jumping up and down.

  “When does she want it to happen?”

  “Now. Yesterday. As soon as we agree, we write up the partnership paperwork, get it signed. We make it simple. Thirty-three percent each, and the extra percent goes into a general fund for extracurricular company activities.”

  “I . . . uh . . .”

  “Mila has worked with some of the biggest contractors in the state, Al! She has the clout to get us in front of some really big fish. It will still take time, but the three of us . . . Oh wow, just thinking about it makes me want to party.”

  Party? Allison agreed. But not for the same reason. This was her out, her answer. Clear as crystal.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I’m stunned.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  “I think this is a direct answer to prayer.”

  “Prayer? Yeah, sure, I know you’ve been doing your thing in regard to this. I guess it worked!”

  “I didn’t believe, even a little bit, that it would.”

  “But it did.” Kayla laughed. “So you’re in? I can call Mila?”

  It worked. It had really worked. God had come through. Kayla would be taken care of. She’d exchange a good partner for a great one. And Allison would get exactly what she needed to save her mom. Plus, she’d get to work for her friend. No, not work for him, with him, be his partner! A man who shared her faith. A man she could learn a great deal from. A man who had hinted at her someday buying him out and taking over the company. Her mom would really, truly be okay. Crazy. Absolutely crazy.

  “Al?”

  “Sorry, I was just trying to figure something out.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing. We can talk about it later.”

  “What’s your definition of later?”

  “I don’t know. I have to make sure my mom’s okay.”

  She realized showing up at work meant Kayla would know she was hiding something and pry it out of her. Plus, she needed time to think. Away from Kayla. Away from her mom. A chance to jot down the debate raging in her mind. Go work with Derrek? Stay? But there was no debate, not really. It was only her love for Kayla telling her there was still a decision to be made. No, she was supposed to go. How much clearer could the answer be? This was God as front and center as she’d ever seen him. But it would still hurt Kayla, even if she joined with Mila. And yet they were tearing each other apart.

  “I’m probably going to work from home or the coffee shop. I want to be close by if she needs anything.”

  “We need to talk about this now,” Kayla pressed.

  “We will. Tonight.”

  “What’s tonight?”

  “Sip and Paint, right?”

  Kayla laughed. “Right. Good timing. We can celebrate our new account and celebrate our new partner. I like it.”

  “I’ll see you there.”

  “You okay, Allison?”

  “Yes, sure. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t seem fine. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I am. Just a lot on my mind.”

  “Like?”

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Allison hung up, sprinted downstairs, and found her mom easing slowly into the kitchen. “You’re not going to believe the phone call I just had.”

  “Oh?”

  After a quick review of the call, she saw the flicker of a smile on her mom’s face. “Maybe God is in this, Ally. Maybe he’s going to help.”

  Allison nodded.

  “So what are you going to do?” Mom asked as she settled into a chair and propped her gray aluminum crutches against the wall.

  “I have a client meeting, then a lunch, then two more clients to see, and then I’m going to the coffee shop for the rest of the day. I’ll get a bunch of work done on my laptop and have some alone time to think about what I’m going to say to Kayla.”

  “You’re not going to the office?”

  “No, I don’t think I can be around Kayla with this on my mind. Plus, I want to be close in case you need—”

  “I told you, I’m fine.” She motioned at her crutches. “I can get anywhere I need to on those.”

  “But if you fall—”

  “Do you see any ladders in this room? Or in any of the rooms in your house?”

  Allison laughed. “Not unless you’ve hidden a few.”

  “Don’t worry. Do what you need to do. I’m fine.” She smiled at Allison like she did when Allison was a child. “I’m giving up my high-wire act. Promise.”

  “Good to hear, Mom.”

  “Speaking of hearing, have you heard anything from Parker?” A wistful look passed over her mom’s face. “It would be nice to know if he’s okay.”

  “I’m sure he’s okay, Mom.”

  “How? How do you know he’s okay?”

  She didn’t. She’d called his cell three times since her mom’s accident, but he hadn’t responded. Probably because she’d told him Mom was fine on his voice mail. Should have said they were going to amputate her foot.

  “Since hearing from Parker is the rare occurrence, not hearing from him, or anything about him, is probably a good thing. And that means he’s good.”

  “Nice try, Al.”

  “Thanks.” Allison grabbed a bagel and cream cheese. “But I mean it.”

  “I know you do. It would just be nice to hear from him.”

  “We will. I promise.”

  She went back upstairs to shower and get dressed and pray she was right.

  seven

  FIVE HOURS LATER, AFTER FINISHING her lunch and meetings, Allison settled into The Vogue’s darkest corner farthest from the counter. She needed coffee, needed a spot to think, needed answers before facing Kayla tonight. But didn’t she have her answer already? Yes. Without question. But she had no idea how she would tell Kayla in less than three hours from now that she was breaking up their partnership. Maybe she could paint a picture at this
Sip and Paint thing that would tell the story. Drowning woman offered a life preserver has to take it in order to save her mom.

  She pulled out her journal and begin freewriting, not thinking, jotting down anything that came to mind, whether it made sense or not. A peace started to come over her, which rarely failed to happen when she wrote. By the end of three pages, she sat back and took in her surroundings with a different view of life than when she’d stepped through the front door forty minutes earlier. It would be okay with Kayla. Somehow they’d be okay.

  As she sipped her drink, she let her gaze meander around the shop and was surprised to see the journal man from the other day on the opposite side of the shop. Western Washington Sweatshirt Guy. He was alone this time. No Richard. Perched on his chair, writing slowly in a journal, but not the gorgeous leather-bound one. He wrote, then paused and studied the writing. Wrote. Paused. Wrote again, a smile tickling the corners of his mouth.

  Without warning, he jerked up his head and stared right at her. A sweet grin of surprise came to his face, then he nodded at her as if he’d just figured out a rather difficult puzzle. He stood, pushed his coffee cup and plate to the center of his table, glanced back at her for an instant, then stuck the journal under his arm and loped out of the shop.

  She felt like he’d told her half a secret, and she had to know the rest. Allison stood and strode after him, pushed through the front door of The Vogue, and glanced to her left. Not there. Right. There he was. Loping away, long legs taking him down the street, where he blended into the river of people meandering up and down the sidewalk. A few seconds later he disappeared from her line of vision. She shook her head.

  The look the man had given her was like nothing she’d ever seen. Wasn’t inappropriate. Wasn’t romantic by any stretch. Wasn’t him being curious about her or even wanting to meet her. The only way to describe it was as a knowing, as if he’d been waiting for an answer and had received it in the instant their eyes locked. He had a confidence about something that involved her. Allison had no doubt a kind of connection had just happened, one that neither of them had been expecting.

  She wandered back inside The Vogue, ordered a sandwich for dinner, and after finishing it went to her car, started it up, and headed to meet her soon-to-be ex–best friend.

  eight

  AS ALLISON MERGED ONTO I-90, she called her mom.

  “Same,” her mom said.

  “What?” Allison frowned.

  “Same.”

  “What do you mean, same?”

  “This is the fourth time you’ve called to check on me, and each time I’ve told you I’m doing great, so this time I thought I’d speed up the conversation, because I think you’re driving and I don’t like the idea of you driving while you’re talking on the phone.”

  “I’m on a Bluetooth. It’s totally legal.”

  “Did you ever see that MythBusters episode where they proved that talking on the phone while driving is as bad as being drunk?”

  “Does that mean I shouldn’t tell you about the three cosmopolitans I had before I got in my car just now?”

  “That’s not funny.”

  Allison laughed. “I can’t help it if I love you, Mom.”

  “I suppose not.” Her mom paused. “You’re going to be fine tonight. Kayla will understand.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Wake me up even if it’s late. I want to hear how it went.”

  “Will do.”

  Allison turned on music to drown out her imaginations about the coming conversation with Kayla, but thirty seconds later her phone rang again. Speak of the best friend.

  “We still on for that Sip and Paint class tonight?”

  “I’m on my way now,” Allison muttered as she changed lanes.

  “Good!” Kayla laughed. “For a minute I thought you were going to stand me up. But we have to celebrate. Plus, you just went through a breakup after dating a guy for five months—which classifies it as semiserious—and you know the bylaws of our friendship say we can’t allow each other to stay at home when there’s the potential of meeting an eligible man at the painting class.”

  “Everyone there is going to be female.”

  “Do you know this for certain, or are you guessing?”

  “I’m not ready to meet anyone yet.” She slowed as traffic bottlenecked. “Someday. Not now.”

  “Until you meet the right one. That’s what unbreaks a broken heart.”

  “My heart isn’t broken.”

  “Yes, it is.” Kayla paused. “But that’s all right.”

  “Okay.”

  “You liked this guy. A lot.”

  “Okay.”

  “But he wasn’t right for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re just saying okay to get me off the phone.”

  “Okay.”

  They both laughed.

  “I’m ten minutes out, Kayla.”

  “I’m nine. See you there.”

  Twelve minutes later Allison walked through the door of Sip and Paint’s small retail shop in the middle of a strip mall. Three long rows of tables filled the space. Every few feet a blank canvas sat in front of tan steel chairs. Brushes and paints were next to the canvas. Fifteen or so women wandered through the space, and a few more had already settled into their chairs. No men. Allison smiled.

  A voice behind her called out, “You made it!”

  Allison turned to find Kayla standing in front of her, a wide grin on her face. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  “I’ve never painted anything before.”

  “That’s why these things are so great. Most of the people haven’t. So there’s no pressure.”

  They found some seats. Their instructor was a woman with short reddish hair who looked to be in her late sixties. She spouted instructions on how to paint the river that flowed through the middle of a lush green forest.

  After they had started splashing greens and blues and creating boulders on the side of the river, Kayla turned a spotlight on Allison’s hidden agenda.

  “I told Mila we’re in.” Kayla grinned and nudged Allison with her elbow.

  “You what?”

  “What do you mean, what? I told her that the Supremes are going to happen.”

  “The Supremes?”

  “Come on, Al. Motown? One of the greatest girl groups ever? And we’re going to be one of the greatest women-owned architecture firms ever.”

  “You told her yes? We didn’t decide—”

  “Yes.” Kayla dropped her paintbrush on the thick tan paper in between their two canvases. “We did decide. This morning.”

  “No, we did not.”

  “When we decided we were going to be celebrating tonight, what exactly did you think we were going to be celebrating?”

  “You decided it was a celebration, not me. I said we’d talk about it tonight. Not decide. Talk.”

  Allison glanced at the woman to her right and then the one over Kayla’s shoulder. Both glanced down as soon as their eyes met Allison’s.

  “I think we should probably step outside to have this conversation, Kayla.”

  “What is there to talk about? Are you saying we’re not going to join up with Mila?”

  Allison stared at her friend for a long time, waited till the fire in Kayla’s eyes dropped a few degrees, then spoke in a whisper. “You’re joining her. I’m not.”

  Kayla cocked her head, stared at Allison for a few seconds, then turned her gaze to the ceiling. Finally she turned back and said, “What in the universe are you talking about?”

  “I’m going to work with Derrek Wright. And you’re going to partner with Mila.”

  “You’re right.” Kayla’s eyes narrowed. “We’re going outside.”

  As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Kayla yanked her arms across her chest and glanced up at the darkening sky. Rain was coming.

  “Go ahead,” Kayla spat out. “Tell me all about this stupid idea of yours.”

  After Allison
finished, they stopped under the awning of a clothing store that had closed for the night.

  “You’re really, truly leaving our partnership?” Kayla shook her head and glared at Allison. “I don’t get you. At all.”

  “I already told you. I have to.”

  “No, you don’t have to. You’re choosing to.”

  “I prayed about this like I just said. If Mila hadn’t called you, there’s no way I would be doing this.”

  “No.” Kayla wagged her finger. “Don’t bring all your God-talk into this. That’s an excuse to do anything you want. It’s not going to work on me.”

  “We’re tearing each other apart.”

  “But we’ve always figured a way through it.”

  “No, we haven’t.” Allison sighed. “We’re both battered and exhausted. And we promised each other that if it ever got to the point where our friendship was being destroyed, we’d end the partnership.”

  “But things will change once Mila comes on board.”

  “True. Then we’d have another person to muddy up the mix. It would get worse.”

  “It wouldn’t.”

  “It would!”

  Kayla clenched her teeth and shook her head slowly. “Well then. If you’re set on dumping me, big congratulations are in order.” Kayla slowly clapped her hands together three times. “Way to go. Woohoo. Let’s have a party in celebration of you waltzing off to the big successful firm, making beaucoup bucks, and leaving me here with nothing.”

  “I’m not doing this to make big bucks. I’m doing it because Mom is in serious trouble and because God—”

  Kayla waggled her finger.

  “Plus, I’m not taking any of our accounts. You get them all. And when Mila comes on—”

  “If! If she comes on. Now that you’re leaving—”

  “She’s your friend, not mine. Without me there to split things three ways, it will be even more attractive.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  They walked again, neither speaking till they’d circled the block and stood outside their class.

  “I’m sorry, Kay.” Allison pleaded with her eyes. “You know I’d never do this unless—”

  Kayla took Allison by the arms.

  “Okay, I’m over it,” she growled. “Actually, I’m so ticked off at you, but at the same time I love you enough to say this.”