Chapter Four
Good Friday
The next morning was Good Friday, and I awoke eager to grab some hot chocolate and head back to the border. It had been a great trip, but I was overdue for a hot shower and a pedicure. I spoke briefly to Jeff and Paul at breakfast, trying to be my lighthearted self.
My team and I mostly slept during the ride home. I stared out the window and let my mind wander. I concluded that once this trip was over it would be much easier to avoid Paul and let go of my childish desires for womanly things. I was too exasperated from the pointlessness of running away from something while holding onto it for dear life. Besides, guys my own age were so much less complicated.
I was looking forward to seeing my family and attending the Good Friday service at church that evening. I had three days until I went back to my usual school routine. In a few weeks, I would be 18. I had three months to wait before I graduated high school. In six months, I would move out and begin a new adventure at Azusa Pacific University. My life was fluid. Soon I would be free.
My dad was waiting for me when we arrived at the church. I felt relieved when I saw him, the most steadfast man I know. I gave him a big hug. He loaded my luggage into the trunk of his car.
“Let’s go, Dad! I need a shower!” I said, jumping in the front seat. Just as we were coasting away, someone approached the driver’s side window.
“Are you Miriam’s dad?”
My throat tightened.
“Yes,” my dad answered in his quiet manner.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Paul.” His sunglasses hid his eyes.
They shook hands. “I’m Drake Bernhardt. Nice to meet you. How was the trip?”
“It was great. Your daughter has a great heart for kids.”
“Yes, we are very proud of her.”
“OK, so will I see you at the Good Friday service tonight?” he asked, pointing at me.
“Yep,” I answered.
“All right, I’ll look for you. It was nice meeting you, Drake.”
“All right, goodbye,” my dad replied, and we rolled so slowly out of the parking lot.
I got a call a few hours later.
“Hi Miriam, it’s Paul.”
“Hey Paul, what’s up?” I managed to squeak. “How’d you get my number?”
“I have connections,” he said. “I just want to make sure you have a ride to church.”
“My parents are going, so I have a ride.”
“OK—it would be great to talk to you after the service tonight. Will you have time?”
“Sure...”
“All right, see you Mimi.”
I stared at my phone and wished Ansley, Bianca, or anyone was there to hear what I just heard. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t imagining things. He called me. This was really happening. I was sure of it now.
I decided to drive separately from my parents so I could hang out as late as necessary after the service.
In the balcony at church that evening, our Mexico team sat together in one long row. Paul sat a few seats down from me. I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was as clear as cotton candy. The sermon sounded like a Gertrude Stein poem.
After the service I told my parents I had plans to hang out with a friend from my team. “Don’t stay out too late. You look tired,” my mom said.
“I’ll be home soon,” I promised.
Everyone filtered out of the sanctuary and headed to their cars. Small groups of friends lingered to talk for a while. Paul stayed deep in conversation with one person after another. I waited patiently by the wall by myself, not wanting to pressure him to hurry.
He didn’t acknowledge me. Soon I felt frustrated. Then I felt dumb. Then I was furious. I was one of four people left in the entire building. I walked over to interrupt his conversation. It took everything in me.
“Um, Paul? You wanted to tell me something?”
“Hey Mimi, what’s up?”
I couldn’t believe it. It was as if he didn’t see me waiting by the wall pretending to look for something in my purse for the past half hour.
“Can we talk?” I begged for dignity.
He gave his friend a high-five handshake, and we headed for the door—together.
Finally.
Then Bob came strolling out of the church office. “Hey, Miriam, what are you still doing here?”
“Hi Bob. Um—Paul wanted to talk to me after the service.”
“Yeah, I am going to walk her to her car.”
“I’ll go with you guys. You shouldn’t be alone together. It doesn’t look right, late at night like this.”
The three of us walked through the back parking lot and Bob whispered something to Paul when they were a few strides ahead of me.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Paul nodded in agreement. “I’m right there with you, Bob.”
“Miriam, are you 18 yet?” Bob asked.
“I will be in a few weeks.”
“Be careful,” Bob cautioned Paul, and he said goodnight and walked over to his car.
Even though I loved and respected Bob, I felt like he was butting in, and I was relieved when he finally got into his car and drove away.
“So what is it?” I asked, eager to help Paul as much as possible to spit out what he wanted to tell me. For the first time ever, we were totally alone. My body started to ache for him.
“Miriam. What I wanted to tell you—it’s not the right time.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not the right time to tell you.”
“You are joking. What is it?”
He thought for a moment.
“It’s OK, just tell me,” I said.
He stood there quietly.
“When will it be the right time to say something? When I’m 18?”
He looked into my eyes like he couldn’t believe I just said that.
“Tell me,” I said softly.
“Just be patient, OK Mimi? Can you do that for me?”
“Sure,” I said. “OK. I’ll go now.”
I took a step backward. The moment when I should have hugged him passed, and I didn’t touch him. I got in my car, started the engine, and drove away.
I should not have been driving, because I literally could not see through the thick cascade of tears.
Sunday was Easter, and Easter brought renewal and hope from the Holy Spirit. I spent the day with my family. Although overwhelmed by my internal noise, I found joy again in the celebration of Jesus Christ’s resurrection from the dead. My predicament forced me to lean heavily on God as I constantly prayed and obsessed over this avalanche that I could not control.
I concluded that he was a big-time jerk for making me wait for him after church, but I forgave him, and I still adored him.
I was fully aware that this was a crush. This was a major crush. I also knew that crushes leave you crushed; I learned that from the dad in the ‘80s movie Sixteen Candles. But Samantha gets to be with her crush at the end of the film.
Besides, Paul initiated this whole developing situation. He initiated. I responded.
On Monday, I found it impossible to concentrate at school. I spent the day writing poems in my notebook and journaling during class.
On Tuesday, expecting a call from Bianca, I picked up the phone enthusiastically. It was not Bianca.
“Hi Miriam.”
“Paul, hi. How are you?”
“Pretty good. I was just thinking—I was wondering if I could take you to The Grove sometime this week. Have you been there?”
“Yes, I mean, yes, of course I have been there.”
“What day is good for you?”
“Well, I have school and then work, so, you know, I would have to go in the evening time. Um—Thursday?”
“Thursday works,” he said. “Let’s meet at church and then I’ll drive over there.”
“OK. What time?”
“Around eight o’clock?”
“Sure, that sounds r
eally fun. I’ll see you Thursday then.”
“All right, Mimi. I’m looking forward to it.”
“You will never guess who just asked me to go to The Grove,” I told Bianca over the phone a few seconds later.
“Paul?” She had a good guess because I had already updated her on everything that had happened.
“Yes!” I squealed, glancing over my shoulder to make sure my bedroom door was closed.
“What? You are kidding. So is it, like, just you two?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Wow, Miriam. That is—weird!”
“Yes, I know! So here is the weirder thing: He isn’t picking me up at my house. He wants me to meet him at church.”
“Miriam, you are like jailbait for him. Of course he isn’t going to pick you up at your house.”
“So I should do it. I should go, right?”
“Yes! And call me as soon as you get home!”
Goodnight to My Thoughts of You Page 5
