The Text God: Text and You Shall Receive ... (An Accidentally in Love Story Book 2)

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The Text God: Text and You Shall Receive ... (An Accidentally in Love Story Book 2) Page 11

by Whitney Dineen


  “Is this about that stupid painting?” she demands. “Because you can keep it if it means that much to you.”

  It’s not about the painting. It’s not about the artist, either. It’s about us. “We have been over for a long time, Alexis. We’ve both just been too scared to say anything.”

  I walk over and rub her upper arms, but she jerks away from me. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I’m always going to love you as a friend, Al,” I say to her back as she rushes toward the door.

  She scoffs loudly. “I don’t need any more friends.” Spinning on her heel, she says, “I need you to be the man you signed up to be. We had a plan, Gabe, and I’ve been going balls to the wall to hold up my end of the deal. You’re the one who’s backing out.”

  “Alexis,” I exhale like I’m trying to keep one of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons afloat. “I didn’t agree to never evolve as a person. That’s all I’m doing here. I’m evolving.”

  “You’re ruining my life,” she exclaims as she reaches the door. With her hand on the knob, she turns around and glares daggers at me. “Good luck with everything, Gabe. I hope you and your giant pink vagina will be very happy.”

  Yeah, she’s not selling that sentiment at all.

  “All I want is to be happy, Al. I’m just trying to make decisions that will lead to that end.”

  “Well, if my misery makes you happy, you should be thrilled right now.” She sniffles as she turns around and walks out my front door.

  My entire body is numb with shock. I’ve just ended an eight-year relationship in one conversation. All the plans we made have just disappeared like smoke into the ether. And, truth be told, I’m filled with relief. I no longer have to live up to someone else’s expectations of me. I just have to figure out what mine are.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jen

  Standing in front of Audra’s apartment, I try to gather my courage to ring the buzzer. I need to tell her that I’ve been texting God and that he might have thought he was helping her when, in fact, he was really helping me. Also, I start to wonder who God really is. Here, the entire time I thought I was texting with the Almighty, but the reality is, Texter God is just a person.

  Reaching out, I hit the buzzer before I can chicken out. The lock opens without Audra even asking who’s there first. Thank goodness I have money in my bank account now because I have to pay her friend back for his investment in me.

  Audra opens the door to her apartment before I can knock. Then, before I can say anything, she announces, “There’s a new box of kibble in the pantry if you don’t mind feeding Ben when you get back.”

  Ben launches his tubby body at me, covering my legs in slobber, then my face in kisses when I crouch down. “Hey, buddy. I missed you too.”

  Audra’s about to run out the door, so I stand up and say, “I need to tell you something before you go.”

  “Yeah?” she says while making a grab for her briefcase.

  “Audra …” I begin slowly. “I’ve been texting your contact God for the last week.”

  She turns around looking alarmed. “Why?”

  This is going to sound insane no matter how I say it, so I might as well just blurt it out. “Can I just start by saying I know how crazy this is going to sound?”

  She nods and does the I’m-in-a-hurry hand roll.

  I open my mouth and let the words rush out. “I thought the real God was answering my prayer and was letting me know.”

  “Via text?!” She’s looking at me like I’m certifiable. Which I very well may be …

  “Trust me, I know how it sounds. But hear me out. I was doing Downward Dog in my living room and I asked the Universe for a sign that help was on the way. God texted me right afterward. He said, ‘I heard you needed some career help. Just wanted to let you know I’m here for you.’”

  “And you thought THE God was responding?” She plops down on a chair next to her dining table.

  I sit across from her with a confused Ben following me. He must be wondering why we’re not outside already. “Why not? I mean, if Moses can part the Red Sea, why couldn’t God text me?” I hurry to ask, “Who is God anyway, if not the Big Man upstairs?”

  Rolling her eyes, she explains, “G-O-D are his initials.”

  “Oh.” Drat and double drat. I’ve been letting a total stranger do things for me that I should have never allowed. Zay is going to have a field day with this.

  “What exactly has Gabe done for you?” she asks.

  “He got me a job at the front desk of The Asher Hotel,” I tell her while cringing. Ben nudges my leg and I reach down and start petting his soft ears.

  She purses her lips for a second, then lets out a puff of air. “That’s the job you took which made you have to quit walking dogs.”

  “Yeah …” I say in a tiny voice.

  “But now you’re able to walk dogs again. Why is that?”

  Exhaling loudly, I explain, “I got fired. But I got another job at a pub in Hell’s Kitchen in the evenings, so I can still walk Ben if you like.”

  Audra does not look pleased. “You’re telling me that my brother’s friend got you a job, thinking you were me, and you got fired? In a week?”

  “Technically, less than a week. I know it sounds bad but—”

  “That’s because it is bad. What else did he do for you?” she demands.

  “He … well … um … he gave me a five-hundred-dollar gift card to Macy’s to buy some new clothes.” I hurry to explain, “They have very particular demands at The Asher and I wasn’t exactly liquid until last night, so …”

  “Did you spend the gift card?” Her anger is clearly escalating.

  “I did.” I continue, “but I also just sold a painting, so I’m going to text God, Gabe, rather, and meet up with him so I can pay him back.”

  “I can’t believe this!” Audra is full-on yelling now. “My brother’s friend thinks I’m some flaky woman who would use him to get a job, only to get fired, but not before taking five hundred bucks from him!”

  “Hey,” I’m starting to get a little mad here myself. “I’m not the one who programmed God’s name into my phone. If you’d never done that, I would have never thought I was texting God.”

  “This is so, so bad. I was going to use him as a reference. Do you know how competitive it is to land a good internship in this city? It’s like crazy hard! The place I’m at is worse than awful. Trust me, I have no future there.”

  “I can fix it. I will fix it.”

  She reaches her hand out. “Give me your phone. I need to see how bad this really is.”

  I pull my phone out of my pocket, search for our texting thread, then hand it to her. I sit quietly while she reads it.

  She finally says, “I like you, Jen, but this is ridiculous. It says right here,” she points to a particular message bubble, “that you asked God to meet you for drinks. Did you really think some old dude with a white beard and robes was going to show up?”

  In a teeny voice, I say, “I was thinking more like Morgan Freeman from those Almighty movies.” Shrugging awkwardly, I add, “But it doesn’t matter because he never showed.”

  “How would you even know if he showed?” she demands. “I haven’t seen Gabe since I was a little girl, so I wouldn’t know what he looks like. You’ve never seen him. What if he was there and thinks that I bailed on him? Me, the woman who took five hundred dollars from him!”

  “Look,” I tell her while staring at her like I’m trying to hypnotize the mad out of her. “I’m going to contact this Gabe and make everything right. I’ll explain what happened and I promise I’ll pay him back and make sure he knows I’m the flake and not you.”

  “You have to,” Audra says. “Like now. Today! My brother is going to be livid with me if he hears about this.”

  “Why? It’s not your fault. Well, I mean … it sort of is …” The glare she sends me has me adding, “I promise to
take care of it right away. I’ll let you know as soon as it’s done.”

  “I want you to meet him in person so he can see all this flakiness isn’t me.” She gathers her purse and briefcase before standing up. “It’s enough that I’m the baby and the only girl in my family. I don’t need my brother to think I’m an idiot, too.”

  “Ouch.” I can’t help my hurt tone. “I’m not an idiot, Audra. I just really needed a win for once and when this happened, I wanted it to be real.”

  She rolls her eyes again. She’s done that so much since I arrived, I worry they might get stuck. “Look, Jen, you’re a sweet girl, and an awesome dog walker. Ben loves you, but you’re also a bit of a rube to be thinking that you were texting with God.”

  “Okay, well, you’re entitled to your opinion,” I reply while jumping up to get Ben’s leash. “For what it’s worth. I’m really sorry. I know I screwed up and I’ll be happy to walk Ben for you for free, at least until I get this all cleared up.”

  “No, thanks,” she tells me. “I think it’s best if we just cut our losses. Let me know when you’ve contacted Gabe though, so I can reach out to him.”

  I hang the leash back up on the hook and stare down at Ben, who looks up at me with his soulful brown eyes. “Okay, but look at him. He’s going to be so sad when he doesn’t get his W-A-L-K.” I spell it out to lessen the blow to the little guy.

  “He’ll survive,” she says, holding out her hand. “Key, please.”

  And just like that, I get fired from the second job in one week. After I remove the key from my chain, I hand it to Audra, then reach down to pet Ben.

  “I have to go!” she snaps.

  “Bye, Ben,” I say, my heart breaking a little at the thought of him alone here all day.

  She opens the door, orders him to stay, then waits for me to walk outside.

  I turn to her. “Are you sure you want to punish Ben because of my screw-up?”

  “He’ll live.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gabe

  CrazySister: Hey, Gabe, I really need to talk to you as soon as possible. In person would be best, or maybe a phone call if you have the time? There’s something I have to tell you and I’m afraid it can’t wait.

  Me: Sorry, but I can’t do that right now. I’ve got a lot going on at the moment. I still want to help you (provided you show up when you ask me to meet you next time) but won’t have time for a while. I’ll get in touch with you when I’m available.

  There. One less problem to deal with. I toss my phone on my night table and try to convince myself to get up and figure out my life. It’s already after eleven o’clock Monday morning . People are going to start to wonder where I am because I never take time off. But as long as Phillip isn’t going to tell anyone I’m suspended, I’m not going to either. Getting up, I decide to go for a long run—wherever my feet want to take me.

  An hour later, I’m dripping with sweat when I walk up the sidewalk to my sister’s place, picking up an errant tricycle that’s nearly in the street. I hear the sounds of my nieces and nephews coming from inside. As I’m about to knock, my nephew, Joe (named after my dad), spots me through the window. His four-year-old eyes light up and he comes running to greet me, shouting, “Uncle Byrne is here!”

  He slams the door open and comes spilling onto the front stoop in his excitement. I pick him up before he tumbles down the steps. “Hey, little man!” I say, setting him down and ruffling his hair.

  “You stink!” he says, holding his nose. “Pee-ewww!”

  “That smell’s not me. I was just wrestling an alligator and he got his stench all over me,” I say, opening the door and waiting for him to walk in.

  My sister pokes her head around the corner and gasps. “Byrne! I didn’t know you were coming over today.”

  “Neither did I,” I say, as the other kids attack me with hugs and screeches. Three of them minus the baby, Connor, who is sitting in his highchair grunting and straining as he tries to lift the tray so he can escape. After a few seconds, the excitement wears off and they all go running back to whatever they were doing. My sister washes Connor’s face and hands with a cloth, then sets him free. He zips away surprisingly quickly on his chubby legs, diaper swinging from side-to-side as he rushes to the toy bin.

  Ciara sighs and drops into a kitchen chair. “Tell me you’ve decided to quit law and become a full-time manny who works for free.”

  Chuckling, I say, “Sorry, no.”

  “Did you want some lunch? We already ate but there are a few spoonfuls of mac and cheese. It might make half a bowl if I scrape them off the kids’ plates.”

  “As tempting as that sounds, I’m not hungry.”

  Fiona, the eldest of the bunch at age seven, walks up and says, “Can we go through the sprinkler? I’m melting like an ice cream cone on a hot stove.”

  Ciara and I exchange a look, then she says, “She spent the night at mom and dad’s last Sunday.”

  “That checks out.”

  “Puhllleeeeesssse, Mom,” she says. “It’s so hot.”

  Sighing, my sister says, “Fine. You get the old towels. I’ll get the hose set up.”

  A few minutes later, we’ve rounded up the kiddos and set up a couple of lawn chairs—shaded by the building in their tiny patch of grass out back.

  “It’s a lot of energy you’re trying to harness here,” I tell Ciara as Finn, the two-year-old, turns the hose on us.

  “Tell me about it. Five might have been a bit of a mistake, to be honest,” she says. “I love ‘em, but holy mother of God, it’s a lot of …” She gestures in wild circles with one hand. “This. All day long.”

  “Five? Does that mean?”

  She rubs her still-flat stomach. “Yup. Number five is in the hopper.” As my mouth opens in shock, she says, “Enough about me, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Wrong? What do you mean?” I ask, picking at the hem of my shorts.

  “Oh, come on. You don’t think I know when something’s wrong with my little brother?” she asks. “You clearly smell like you ran all the way from SoHo and you ended up … here? On a Monday?”

  Sighing, I tell her, “Yeah, about that, Alexis and I broke up.”

  “Hallelujah!” she yells before reeling her happiness in. “Honestly? You two were never really right for each other.”

  The baby comes toddling over and hands me a toy bucket. “Thanks, buddy,” I say. “Is this for me?”

  He shakes his head and grabs it back, then makes a break for it.

  “To be fair, none of you really knew her that well. She had her good points. We just drifted apart. It happens.”

  “It happens when you’re not a good fit,” Ciara says.

  “We were totally right for each other for a long time,” I answer, unable to face what could possibly be the truth. “Just not anymore.”

  “Seriously? You’re still going with that even though everyone in the family knew she was all wrong for you from the start?” Ciara looks at me like I’m the biggest dummy on the planet. “Uncle Ray could tell, and he doesn’t notice anything.”

  “Can we just move on, please? I broke it off with her, so you all win. At one time, we were very much in love, but we grew apart. End of story. No need to analyze it.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Ciara says with a knowing smile. “You can’t admit that Mom was right about her from the start.”

  Rolling my eyes, I say, “That’s got nothing to do with it.”

  “Finn! You put that shovel down!” Ciara hollers suddenly. “NOW, mister, or you’re going for a time-out.”

  Finn drops the shovel, letting it clang against the sidewalk, then takes off to the fence a few feet away where he pulls off his diaper and pees on some weeds.

  My sister continues, “Come on, you know you only stayed with her as long as you did because you couldn’t admit that you’d made a bad choice.”

  I sit up in my chair and turn to her, fully irritated.
“That’s insane. You think I stayed with a woman for the better part of a decade because I’m too stubborn to admit I’m wrong?”

  Ciara scrunches up her face. “You don’t think you’re stubborn? Not even a tiny bit maybe?”

  “I didn’t come here to be criticized,” I say, letting out a long sigh.

  “Then why did you come? Because you know I’m going to dole out a dose of truth. It’s my job as your older sister.”

  “I don’t know. I just … lately … I’m a little off,” I say, running my hands through my wet hair. Gross, I do stink. “Nothing feels right. Not my job, clearly not my relationship. I feel like I’ve been building a life I don’t even want.”

  Her head snaps back. “What does that mean? You don’t want to be a lawyer anymore? Because that would kill Dad, you know. He tells everyone he meets what you do for a living. Everyone. And it’s been, what? Seven years since you passed the bar?”

  Guilt tugs at my gut and I shake my head. “No, I want to keep practicing, but not at Murphy.” Turning to her, I say, “The truth is, I took a stand last week and told the partners no to something they want me to do. They’ve given me a week off to change my mind, but I’m not going to.”

  “So, you’re suspended?”

  “I like to think of it as ‘pre-fired.’ The good news is that I haven’t done anything that could get me in trouble with the bar association. And while Murphy wants me to come back and do as I’m told, I can’t. I don’t like who I am there. I’m not the man Mom and Dad raised me to be.”

  “Wow,” Ciara says in a quiet voice. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her. “I’m sorting it out.”

  She lets out a long sigh. “That’s a lot all at once.”

  “No kidding,” I say, chewing on my lip.

  “Are you sure about—”

  I nod and she stops mid-question. “I am. About both. Anyway,” I say, gesturing to her brood, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  Ciara nods slowly but firmly. “You bet. I’m actually really happy. Complaining is just part of the fun of motherhood.” Giving me a mischievous grin, she says, “Beats the hell out of being a lawyer anyway.”

 

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