The Unwanted Assistant
Page 14
Thirty minutes later, I laid the paper fragments on the countertop, hands bloodied and scratched from diving into debris like a man on a mission, not caring how much it hurt each time a sliver of glass cut my hands. I'd only cared that every scrap had been found and accounted for. It took a while, but I pieced the letter together like a puzzle, and though the paper bits were soiled, the writing was still legible.
Dear Sawyer,
I’m not afraid to be your friend, nor will I regret it. I know letting people in is hard for you, so let me extend an olive branch and share something from my heart—something I haven’t told anyone else. I hope that in doing so, it’ll bridge the distance between us, and you’ll be more comfortable opening up to me.
The locket you asked about two separate times: I avoided answering because I was ashamed. Austin gave it to me on my birthday, and even though we broke up months ago, I hadn’t been able to take it off, mainly because it seemed like I’d be throwing away the only relationship I’ve ever had. I worried you'd think I was a loser for holding out hope since he left me for someone else. I haven’t had the courage to discard it, but at least I’ve taken it off.
I hope my confession eases the tension between us because I’m a living, breathing person with feelings, just like you. I may not have been through what you have, but I have felt pain, and I wouldn’t mind sharing some of yours.
You were right about something. I don’t have a clue what friendship with you entails. Why don’t you show me?
Sincerely,
Ivy
My heart thundered, and it took a moment to calm myself. I had to give her credit. Writing the letter couldn’t have been easy. Perhaps she did care. The thought filled me with warmth, relieving some of the tightness in my chest.
If I stepped forward and embraced a friendship with her, I would set something in motion I might not be able to stop. Then again, the fact that I’d spent the last thirty minutes putting my hands in a trash can full of broken glass and filth, pretty much confirmed I was already in deep. I wasn’t sure I could go backward even if I wanted to.
Maybe I’d take the friendship Ivy offered, throw caution to the wind, and be reckless for once. I sat at my desk and replied to her letter, feeling relieved and at peace.
When I went back to bed, I slept like a baby.
Chapter 18
Ivy
After the argument with Sawyer, I flung open the door of my apartment, hoping to be alone with my thoughts. I needed time to think, to absorb what happened.
Sammie accosted me with high-pitched squeals. She hugged me and jumped up and down like a maniac. “So, this friend from Econ mentioned she and her brother, Tyler, attend Third Street Baptist Church. He’s a teacher in his mid-twenties looking to settle down.”
My face went blank as I stared back at her. She might be excited, but my enthusiasm level had crept to an all-time low. My lack of interest unfazed her.
“I told her I have a friend who got out of a relationship a few months ago and is ready to test the dating waters again.” She grinned. “And listen to this—he teaches math, just like you plan to do. Isn’t that terrific?” She waited for my response.
The muscles of my face refused to smile or pretend to be excited, no matter how much I tried. Still shaken from the conflict with Sawyer, her enthusiasm, though sweet, grated on my nerves.
The last thing I wanted to talk about was some guy I hadn’t even met yet. And did I care he taught math? Not really. If anything, it would be like going out with another version of myself. Boring.
As if my life couldn’t get any worse, now I had to fumble through a blind date. I sighed. “Has he seen a picture of me?”
“Of course. My friend gave me his number, and I texted a photo.”
“And he still wants to meet me?”
Sammie smiled. “Why wouldn’t he? You’re gorgeous. Don’t worry about a thing. It’s all set for tomorrow at Spiced Coffee House.” She shot me a bewildered look, probably thinking I should be happier. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks for all your efforts. I'm just really tired right now. I'm going to bed.”
In the privacy of my own room, I reflected on my attitude. For some stupid reason, I felt disloyal to Sawyer, which was idiotic considering how he'd just acted. Sawyer and I had a business arrangement. End of story. I had to get him out of my head before I met Tyler. Problem was, you couldn’t always choose who you had feelings for.
Sometimes the heart played tricks on you, and before you knew it, a bunch of feelings you didn't even want swallowed you whole. Maybe going on the blind date would be a good thing. Tyler might be a welcome distraction.
I rustled through my purse, searching for the note. After Sawyer reminded me yet again that we weren’t friends, it hadn’t felt right to hand over a piece of my heart. I’d been too open about the locket, anyway. My brows knit together as I searched, emptying everything out of my purse. The letter was missing.
Great, one more thing I’d have to worry about. It must have fallen out and who knew where that happened? I might have lost it before I made it to his house, providing reading material for some random stranger.
Or even worse, Sawyer's found it and had it in his hands right now. Frowning, I got into bed and pulled the covers over my head.
I didn’t sleep well that night.
***
The following evening Sammie helped me pick out something to wear for my date. We both agreed on blue jeans and a feminine, red peasant blouse. Sammie pulled my hair into a cute, messy updo, modeling it after a YouTube video we’d seen on hairstyles. I took more time than usual applying makeup and finished the look with red lip gloss. When I studied myself in the mirror, I felt good. I might not be skinny, but the outfit complimented my figure and my hair and makeup looked nice.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Sammy asked.
“I’m sure. It’ll be less awkward if we meet on our own.”
Earlier in the day, I’d spoken to Tyler on the phone, and he’d sounded nice enough. Even though I didn’t feel like meeting him, I reminded myself I was doing this to keep my river view, and it didn’t matter how it turned out. But when I pulled into the parking lot, my pulse skyrocketed. I had low expectations, but still, going on a blind date tested my resolve.
Dread filled me as I walked through the doors. I scanned the room and recognized Tyler right away from the picture Sammie had shown me. He sat at a corner table studying his phone, and he didn’t see me come in. My feet didn’t want to move forward, but I forced myself to keep going until I stood next to him. I cleared my throat. “Hey, Tyler.” His gaze flicked up to mine, but there was no recognition in his eyes. An awkward pause followed and then I offered my hand. “I’m Ivy.”
He was slow to take it. My heart stopped as I noted the bewildered expression on his face. Had I gone up to the wrong guy?
He studied me, eyebrows creased. “Ivy? You can’t be Ivy.”
My smile faltered.
He stood and lifted a hand to his chin. “I’m a little confused right now. I’m definitely supposed to meet an Ivy, but in the photo I was given, she had blonde hair.”
The blood drained from my face. “What? That doesn’t make sense.” There couldn’t be two different Ivys, both meeting dates at Spiced Coffee House today. That would have been too coincidental.
He picked up his phone and pulled up a picture. “Someone named Sammie texted this to me. She said to count four people over from the bottom row.”
Sammie had sent a group photo from our young adults’ fellowship back in California. What had she been thinking sending that picture? I inwardly fumed. She should have texted a more flattering picture in my opinion.
I counted four people over and pointed to my picture. “I'm definitely not a blonde.”
“Oh, I guess I didn’t count this person.” He rested his finger next to a girl in the group who I knew as Vicky, and who’d been hiding behind someone else. Her body wasn
’t in full view, but her face could still be seen. “I assumed you were her,” he said, pointing to a blonde.
That blonde was none other than Tina Ferris, the woman who stole Austin’s heart away. My throat constricted, and I let out a strangled cough. Of all people why did he have to confuse me with her? My stomach roiled from the misunderstanding. Tina was slender and model-worthy, and if he’d been expecting her, he must be disappointed.
“I’m sorry about the confusion. If you’d rather end the date now, it’s okay.”
He appeared to consider the offer, but then fixed a neutral expression on his face. “We’re here, aren’t we? Let’s run with it. I’m a flexible guy.”
I flushed. If I’d been on top of the situation, I would have texted another picture after we talked on the phone or I would have asked Sammie to show me the one she sent. My mind had been elsewhere, and I hadn’t cared enough at the time to bother. Now, I was just plain embarrassed he’d been looking forward to seeing someone else.
“Can I buy you a coffee?” he asked.
I considered declining the offer and going home, but Sammie had put forth the effort to set this up, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. “Sure.”
We crossed the room to the front counter. I ordered a Cappuccino, and he ordered a decaf. As we waited for the barista to complete our orders, the silence was painfully uncomfortable.
“So, the blonde,” he said, breaking the ice. “Do you actually know her?”
A queasy sensation passed over me. “Yes, I do.” I left it at that, hoping he’d take the hint and not ask about her again.
“Is she a good friend?”
No such luck.
“Um . . . she was a part of the young adults group at my church back home.”
“You’re from California, right?”
“Yeah, born and raised.”
He nodded. “Just curious, is she seeing anyone?” He chuckled. “Not that it matters. She’s half-way across the country. That was such a cute picture of her though.” Then, as if realizing he’d been rude, he squeezed my shoulder. “Oh, your picture was cute, too.”
Kill me now. I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “Yes, to answer your question, she’s seeing someone.” There was no way I’d tell him she was dating my ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t think of anything more humiliating than going down that road with him.
Thankfully, he moved on to another topic, but I felt deflated by his obvious preference for Tina.
Thirty minutes passed, and we’d found our way to a table in the corner of the room. I found my mind wandering during our conversation. It was hard not to compare him to Sawyer. Although Tyler was the type I normally went for—clean cut with a conservative style—I was completely uninterested. Sawyer, on the other hand, had this enigmatic presence that kept me on my toes, and even though he frustrated me at times, he’d gotten under my skin.
“So, Ivy. Tell me. What kind of man are you looking for?”
I leaned back in my chair wanting desperately to check the time so I could excuse myself. This guy was not for me. Still, I didn’t want to be rude by leaving too abruptly. “Someone who loves the Lord.”
“That's understandable,” he said, “but do you have any personality type you’re searching for? Or hair color preferences?”
I gave him an odd look. “It’s not as if I can break out a catalog and choose. I guess I’m open to whoever God might bring. How about you?”
He snickered. “Like you, I hope to find a Christian. And as far as personality goes—quiet, mysterious types interest me.” He glanced away briefly, avoiding eye contact. “Oh, and I’ve always had a thing for blondes.”
And there it was.
Neither of us had much to say after that. My mind searched for a good excuse to leave. Tyler must have felt the same way because his eyes were everywhere but on me. “Well, I should be heading out. Can I walk you to your car?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, thank you.”
A few minutes later we stood at my Ford Sedan. Tyler cleared his throat. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” His expression told me this was goodbye. He wasn’t going to call again. And I really didn’t want him to.
On the drive back to my apartment, I realized he’d been the second guy to prefer Tina over me. I wouldn’t lie to myself, the misunderstanding hurt, but I was relieved the date was over and I could move on.
When I arrived home, Sammie was anxiously waiting by the door. “How’d it go?” Her voice sounded so hopeful my heart sank a little.
“Meh,” I said. “We didn’t click.”
Her expression dropped. “You didn’t like him?”
“He was . . . not what I’d hoped. He won’t be calling again.”
“Why? What happened?”
“He told me he prefers blondes.” My words hung in the air like stale breath. “There was a misunderstanding with the picture you texted him. He was expecting Tina.”
She paled and threw a hand across her forehead. “Oh, no. I specifically said to count four people over on the bottom row.”
“Yeah, well he didn’t count Vicky. She was hiding behind someone.”
She appeared as if she was going to be sick. “I am so sorry, Ivy. This is all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault he can’t count, even though he is a math teacher.” I grimaced at my sad attempt at a joke.
Sammie’s brows drew together. “Yes, it is my fault. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry to fix you up. Next time, I promise I won’t give anyone a group picture.”
“Why’d you choose that one, anyway?”
“I thought it would show how social you are, and you looked really cute that day.”
“Well, next time make sure Tina isn’t in any photos you hand over to a prospective date.”
She pulled me into a hug. “I feel terrible. Next time will be better.”
“If it's not,” I said, laughing, trying to lighten the mood. “Your matchmaking days are over.”
Chapter 19
Ivy
The next afternoon, after studying at the school library, I drove to Sawyer’s home. We were now in September, and though some days were more hectic than others, I’d settled into a routine with school. Thankfully, Sawyer was easygoing about my schedule, allowing me to come and go as I pleased.
When I opened the front door of his house, piano music filled my ears with a sweet melody. He was playing that song again, the one that haunted my dreams at night. The one he wouldn’t tell me the name of because apparently, it was none of my business. I stood quietly and listened as the piece slowly came to an end.
Sawyer glanced at me over his shoulder, covering the sheet music with a book. “I was just about to work out in the gym. Care to join me?”
The man was an exercise-aholic.
And I didn’t feel like exercising at all.
But at least he'd spoken to me, though, I wasn’t sure I wanted to speak to him after our conflict the last time we’d seen each other. I winced at the memory of watching the Star Trek movie with him. Careful not to let my feelings affect my job, I nodded. “Okay.”
If he wanted to ignore the argument we’d had the other day, I was on board with that. I didn’t care to think about it either.
Minutes later, we walked on treadmills next to each other.
He slid me a sideways glance. “So, how was the date?”
My stomach rippled with an unpleasant sensation when I thought about the lack-luster meeting with Tyler. Not only had it been a disappointment, it had left me feeling even more wounded than before the date. Tyler’s unfortunate misunderstanding would stay with me for a very long time.
“It was just coffee. Nothing exciting.”
I felt his intense scrutiny as he waited for me to say more.
“Are you going to see him again?”
Why did he care? He’d made it clear what we had was only an arrangement.
The question hung in the air as I considered my response. It would be so easy to
tell him it was none of his business, to get payback for the other day. But doing that would only further drive a wedge between us. Although our fragile “friendship,” or whatever we were calling it, had gone backwards, I wanted to make it better.
“No. I won’t be seeing him again.” Staring straight ahead, I concentrated on my breathing. I turned the speed up on the treadmill, and my feet picked up the pace.
He continued to study me. “Why not?”
For someone who wanted me to butt out of his life, he certainly had no qualms about asking personal questions. It would be like pouring salt on the wound to go into the reasons I hadn’t connected with Tyler. Time for diversionary tactics.
“Let me ask you something.”
“I thought I just asked you a question, but fine, go ahead.”
“At church—you know you can sit with me and Sammie, right?”
He almost smiled. It was so quick I just barely caught the expression.
“Thanks. But I like where I sit. It’s quiet in the balcony.”
“I only bring it up because I’m the type of person who hates sitting alone. Thought maybe you’d want company. We can introduce you to others in the church. It’s up to you. Just wanted to put it out there.”
“I know I should get more involved, but I’m not ready to take that step right now.”
When I opened my mouth to speak, he held up a hand. “I don’t want to have a conversation about this.”
“But—”
“Perhaps you’d like to share why you don’t plan to go on a second date with what’s-his-name?”
“Not really.”
He nodded. “Then we understand each other.”
That being the last thing he had to say on the subject, he got off the treadmill. It had been the shortest workout session in history, at least since I’d been coming to his home.
“I’m heading to the shower,” he said, walking out of the gym.
Once he left, I contemplated what it would take to get Sawyer to interact with more people. I understood the fear of judgment in people’s eyes when they sized you up and found you lacking and wondered if that was Sawyer's issue or if it was something else.