by Rob Jones
Helen went into the kitchen to find a vase. “Now where did you hear that line from? Is that something you’re going to try on little Ms. Zoe?”
“Zoe?” Ethan squinted and curled his lip. “Why in the world would you bring her up, and why would I try to use a line like that on her?”
“Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on.” She went to the sink to put water in the vase and placed the lilies in them. Ethan saw a smirk on her face that told him he was not as smooth and calculating as he thought he was, that she was always one step ahead of him.
“You are quite smitten with her. I can smell the scent all over you, the scent that makes you feel alive and full of spirit, that everything is possible when you see her. You reek of this, I’m afraid.”
With a slight smile on his face, his hands in his pockets, and his head down, he shifted his weight back and forth like a shy little boy. He confessed to her that he had feelings for Zoe, that the gravitational pull that she had on his heart had him out of sorts, and that he had never met anyone remotely like her before. There was something incredibly special about her, a genuine innocence that permeated through her, and that was the part that was so alluring to him.
“I know that she has taken you by storm, but she is cut from a different cloth, hummingbird. She appears to be a no-nonsense kind of woman who is not too fond of games. It’s going to take more than pretty words coming from a pretty face to get that one. And if you think you are going to get easy access into her britches, you better think again.”
Ethan’s head shot straight up, and his eyes became as big as satellite dishes.
“Nana, shame on you. That is the last thing I’m thinking about.”
“Mm, hmm, sure it is.”
“I promise. I know everyone thinks that I’m a playboy, a rock-n-roll lady piranha. Granted I haven’t particularly been a gentleman, and yes, I’ve had a few questionable indiscretions from time to time.” Helen turned around, tightened her lips, and crossed her arms.
“Okay, I had more than a few questionable indiscretions, but it’s different with Zoe.” Ethan knew that Helen was right. Zoe was cut from a different cloth, she was not into games whatsoever, and if he was going to have a chance with her, he needed to do some damage control when it came to his reputation. He had to change everyone’s perception of him, he had to try to control the narrative about who he was and what he was about, yet at the same time, give off that rock star mystique and swag. It would be tricky, but worth it if it meant that he could have a legitimate chance with Zoe.
“I really want to get to know Zoe as a person, to know what’s her favorite book, to know who’s her favorite band or singer, what makes her happy, what makes her sad, does it bother her to have one eye different than the other. I want to know and be a part of her world, Nana.”
“Well, hummingbird, you are going to get that chance because God has already set things in motion.” Helen sat down and began to work on a crossword puzzle. “Pastor Edwards invited me over to dinner tomorrow night. He said that he wants to provide something special for the widows at our church. Hmm.” She paused and tapped an ink pen on her top lip while she furrowed her brow.
“A five-letter word that begins with a B for what pirates call treasure?” Helen thought out loud while working on the crossword puzzle. “Bounty? No that’s one too many letters.”
“Booty, Nana.”
“Booty? My goodness, Ethan, must your mind always be in the gutter?”
“No, Nana, that’s the word.” He grinned. “When pirates go out to raid and steal treasure they called it booty. Trust me, I know these things.”
“I’m sure you know all about stealing booty. Anyway, the pastor wants to start what he calls WWW, Wonderful Wednesday for Widows. He asked me if I needed a ride, I told him that’s not necessary because I will have you to give me a ride. He said that you were invited if you wanted to come.”
“That sounds like an uncomfortable and terrible idea,” he mumbled. “I would love to come, but I have to write and practice some new songs.”
“Are you sure? I would have thought you would want to take advantage and use the opportunity to get to know Zoe.”
“Zoe will be there?”
“The pastor said it’s dinner with his family, so I’m pretty sure she will be there.”
“Those songs can wait. Nana, I like how you think. Good looking out!”
“Good looking out? My, my, my, you kids and your misuse of the English language. No wonder America is trailing behind in academic achievements, Lord help us.”
Chapter Nine
Ethan
“Are you sure that I’m dressed appropriately?” Helen and Ethan arrived at the Edwardses’ residence, where the glass door trapped their reflection. Ethan unconfidently looked at his attire that incorporated a black, white, and gray argyle style V-neck sleeveless sweater, with a white collared short-sleeve shirt underneath and gray slacks.
“I’m not feeling this look.”
“For the fiftieth time, yes, you look dashing. The suit that you wanted to wear would be a little too much for a widow’s dinner.” Helen adjusted his collar. “Now ring the doorbell and stop fidgeting. You’re behaving like a fourteen-year-old schoolboy who is about to have his first real kiss.” He rang the doorbell.
“Good evening, please come on in,” Abby Edwards greeted Helen and Ethan. “Ethan, what a pleasant surprise. So glad that you could join us.”
“Thank you for inviting us, Mrs. Edwards,” Ethan said while sweating bullets.
“So how have you been, Ethan?”
“I’m better than I deserve, ma’am.”
Abby laughed. “That is so true, we all are better than we deserve. Roman is going to be so excited to see you.”
He hoped that her daughter would feel the same way.
“All he’s been talking about is you ever since you gave him that discount. You have made an indelible impression on him.”
“Well, at that age they are very impressionable.”
“Well, hello there, Mrs. Thorn. Oh, Ethan.” Pastor Edwards gave a smile of surprise as he came to the door with a glass of red wine in his hand. “Good to see you, young man.” He extended his hand. Ethan shook it. “Will you be dining with us this evening? I told Mrs. Thorn that you are more than welcome to.”
“Yes, sir.” Ethan wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.
“Excellent, we are extremely honored to have you here. Honey, don’t just let our guests stand there in the doorway like Jehovah’s Witnesses. Offer them a seat in the family room.”
“Oh yes, come on in and make yourselves comfortable.” Abby gestured for them to sit. “Dinner will be ready shortly. Would you like something to drink? We have coffee, bottled water, wine, beer, and tea.”
“I would love a cup of tea with a splash of cream please, and thank you,” Helen requested.
Ethan wanted to show another side of himself so he resisted his natural inclination to get a glass of wine or a beer and instead he followed Helen’s lead and requested tea.
“Two cups of tea coming up.” Abby elegantly walked into the kitchen.
The smell of a seasoned roast captivated Ethan’s appetite, so to take his mind off of his empty, nervous stomach, he got up and looked around the beautifully adorned room. The immense family room had a dark brown three-piece leather sectional and a solid wood framed rocking chair that was fixed in front of a fireplace. There were four mahogany bookcases with glass doors on the opposite wall that held a variety of books: sci-fi, fiction, nonfiction, weighty theological tomes, biographies, and romance.
Family and individual photos were strategically displayed in the room. Ethan focused on the ones that Zoe was in. She was beautiful from the moment she took her first breath, he thought. From her baby pictures to adulthood, there were no bad pictures to be located of her. Everyone had that one picture that exposed an awkward stage but not her. Bad teeth, strange hair, pimples, a goofy pose, it seemed as though th
ese stages had eluded Zoe. Her beauty was quintessential and pristine. God was in a very good mood that day when he crafted her. It was as though he looked all around in heaven to see the most beautiful things that were there, and incorporated them all to fashion and form this exquisite creature named Zoe.
“Zoe, Roman, come on down for dinner please!” Pastor Edwards said, standing near the stairway, while Ethan and Helen moved from the family room to the kitchen table.
Roman, with his jet black curly hair and boyish face, was the first to come down wearing the clothes that he got for his birthday, black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt that had the Abercrombie and Fitch logo on it.
“Hi, Mrs. Thorn. Oh wow, hi Ethan!”
“What? Eek!” Zoe slipped down on the stairs and landed on her butt. She got up quickly, flipped her tousled hair back from her blushed face, and acted as if that unflattering moment had never occurred, but the smirk on Roman’s face and the not-so-hidden smiles on the faces of the others made it painfully obvious that they were aware of her misstep.
“Ahem, good evening, Mrs. Thorn, Ethan.” Her face flushed with heat.
“Hello there, sweetie,” Helen responded first with a nod of the head.
Ethan was contemplating if he should just play it cool and just say what’s up, Zoe, or hello, Zoe, or maybe how are you doing, Zoe? He was unsure how he should answer in what he knew was an embarrassing and awkward moment for her. Maybe he could just lighten the mood with a joke like, I’m falling for you too girl, or don’t trip over the small things. No, that would be a jerk move, so he decided just to say hello.
He looked at her, smiled, and gave a clumsy wave instead. Way to go, Casanova, real smooth. Nana was right. He was acting like a total nimrod. He could not for the life of him understand how he could allow her to affect him in this manner. He had always been the protagonist, the lead character controlling, regulating, and dictating the situations in his life, and whoever held the title for Miss Right for Now, but somehow Zoe had taken the lead, taken control of this situation. She had flipped the script and now, unknowingly, operated from a position of power. She had all the leverage.
He found himself in an uncharted battle, engaged in a war between pride and desire, and it seemed as though his pride had taken a significant blow, damaged from the shrapnel of her explosive and dangerously beautiful charm. The brilliance of her transcendent loveliness completely blinded him, left him disoriented and irresolute. But just being in her presence, hearing her voice, smelling her alluring and innocent fragrance was worth the uncertainty. The awkwardness of not being in control had placed his heart in a compromising position, and left him vulnerable to her tyranny.
Why did her scent have to be so intoxicating and stirring? He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t focus, he couldn’t keep still. It was like he had ADHD when he was around her. Effortlessly she pulled him in and he could feel himself drowning in her lazy river of sweetness. She was a prepossessing mystery whose code he had to crack.
The only seat available for Zoe at the dinner table was directly across from Ethan. She sat down reluctantly, camouflaging her uneasiness with a polite smile that did not fool him.
While conversations were circling around them, Ethan and Zoe were having their own private conversation with subtle, darting glances that they exchanged in between the quiet uneasiness that was mounting with every breath. To deflate this uncomfortable pressure between him and Zoe, Ethan commented on Mrs. Edwards’ cooking.
“Everything smells and looks so enticing, Mrs. Edwards. I’m sure that it will taste even better.”
“Ah, you’re too kind, Ethan, thank you. I hope it will be to your liking.” Abby placed biscuits, a pot roast, and a spinach casserole on the table.
“Everything is all set. Now we are ready to ask the Lord’s blessing on this meal.” Abby sat down and gestured toward Pastor Edwards to pray.
While Pastor Edwards was praying, Ethan heard a faint grunt and felt something aggressively loving on his leg. He opened one eye and saw a fawn and black wrinkled-browed, short-muzzled pug. Zoe saw Ethan’s face contorting and looking under the table, so she looked under the table as well to see the pug in action. Zoe grinned. When Pastor Edwards finished the prayer, Zoe reprimanded the dog.
“Stop that right now. Go and get on your pillow, you know better!” She motioned the pug away from Ethan’s leg. “So sorry about that, how embarrassing.” She chuckled.
“No worries, I love dogs. I have a pit bull at home. Your pug must have smelled him on me. Now there’s a good chance that I might be pregnant.” Everyone at the table gave a vigorous laugh.
“It’s a she. Her name is Tulip.” The laughter continued.
“A she?” Ethan asked with an are-you-sure-about-that look on his face.
“I have never seen a girl dog go to town on someone’s leg like that.”
“She does that when she’s nervous, or threatened that there is another dog around,” Zoe explained. “Tulip has got some peculiar behaviors.”
“Ethan, what’s the name of your pit bull?” Roman’s voice was muffled because his mouth was full of food.
“Roman, you know better than to speak with a full mouth of food,” Abby remarked.
“Sorry, Mom.”
“His name is Sue.” Ethan wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“I’m sorry, did you say his name is Sue?” Zoe wrinkled her nose.
“Yes, Sue. Now don’t judge me. The reason I named him Sue is because I’m a big Johnny Cash fan, and my favorite song of his is called A Boy Named Sue. Also, I thought it would be good for an interesting conversation, and it gives me an excuse to talk about Johnny Cash.”
“Well, if that’s what you were shooting for, you definitely succeeded.” Zoe took a drink of wine.
“So, son, what is on the horizon for your band?” Pastor Edwards asked.
“Well, sir—”
“Now I told you, you can call me Charles.”
“Sorry, sir—I mean Charles. We have some encouraging and exciting things in the works. Our song is in regular rotation at the radio station, playing alongside the heavy hitters in the rock music scene. Also rumor has it that someone from a record company has been sneaking around scouting us, so hopefully that person was impressed by what he has heard and with our showmanship, which I know he was.” Ethan nodded his head with a Billy Idol sneer on his face depicting his confidence. “I have a feeling that we will be getting signed soon.”
“Now I must say that is something to get excited about. I will definitely be praying that those doors will open up for you boys and that our good Lord will allow you to find favor and influence with those who makes those signing decisions.”
“Much appreciated, sir.”
“Ahem.”
“I mean Charles.” Ethan smiled like a bashful child.
“Could you pass me another biscuit, please?” Charles motioned to Zoe.
“Speaking of praying, how is your spiritual life, son?”
Ethan, caught off guard by Charles’s intrusive question, took a sip of his tea to buy some time so that he could gather his thoughts and come up with a satisfying answer, not only for Charles, but also for Zoe. Ethan figured that if he could accrue some brownie points with her father, then maybe, just maybe Zoe’s suspicion and opinion about him would somewhat subside, and she would see him in a different light.
“To be truthful, it’s quite challenging at times, especially with this vocation I have chosen. There are many trappings and temptations in my world.” Ethan cut his eyes at Zoe. “So my spiritual habits vacillate because they are threatened and under constant duress.”
He placed his arm around Helen and patted her shoulder. “This wonderful lady here, her prayers keep me afloat. She is always on her knees harassing our Lord on my behalf, making sure that he has his clutches on my heart.” He laid his head on Helen’s shoulder for effect, hoping to evoke a spark of compassion and empathy from Zoe, but she just rolled her eyes.
“Now
don’t get me wrong, I know that her prayers alone are not enough to safeguard me from all the wiles of the Devil. I must bow the knee and do some dialoguing with God as well. I know that I need to pray more than I do, and I’m working on that. So that’s the long and short of it all.”
“Take it one prayer at a time.” Charles gave him some encouragement.
“The great preacher Charles Spurgeon said this, ‘The very act of prayer is a blessing.’”
“That was great, Mother. Did you do something different with the pot roast?” Zoe pushed her plate away.
“Yes, I saw this recipe online that suggested using Worcestershire sauce and garlic cloves.”
Ethan became alarmed when he learned that garlic cloves were in the pot roast, knowing that garlic caused his stomach to feel like a conservative and a liberal were battling for the right to legislate morality.
“You better not forget that recipe. It was by far the best pot roast you have made,” Zoe added.
Ethan bit his bottom lip, narrowed his eyes, and turned up his nose. He began to squirm in his chair. He felt an uprising in his stomach and hostile cramping that was shooting like how he imagined labor pains must be.
“Ethan, did you know that Zoe plays the violin?” Abby gestured toward Zoe.
“No, ahem, no I did not,” he replied, his voice shaky.
“Yes, she is fantastic, and I’m not saying that because she is my daughter.” She shook her head quickly. “She is going to Belmont University School of Music for the master’s of music degree. Her playing is exquisitely elegant, you must hear her.”
“Hmm, yes, I would love—” He broke off, grimacing and squirming even more in his chair. “I would love to hear her sometime.”
“Honey, would you mind playing a little something for Ethan and Mrs. Thorn after dessert?”
“Mother, I’m sure that they don’t want me to bore them to death by playing some Anne-Sophie Mutter on my violin.”
“Oh, Ethan and I would love to hear you play. Maybe Ethan can accompany you on a song. Hummingbird, did you bring your guitar? He always has that thing with him.” Ethan saw right through what Helen was doing, trying to use their love of music as the impetus that would help elevate their relationship to another level.