Edified

by Marissa Sail Fike

  ***

  The kind-faced man who tows my car offers to stay with me until my taxi arrives, but I politely decline. He relents only because we’re both certain it can’t be that much longer. Gevali’s not even that far from here.

  I utilize my time by updating the Hyssop ‘N’ Sage website while I wait. I got three new subscribers to my site over the past few days. So I send a few pictures of the new products I’ll have in stock shortly and hit send on my e-mail list. When my phone battery dies, I buy myself a green tea and wander around the small convenience store attached to the station.

  At least three times, I walk past the small aisle that no one wants to be caught in for long — the one that dutifully contains cheap bottles of aspirin, Trojans, and of course, pregnancy tests.

  At first, I find myself wondering why I hadn’t just come here instead of trying to go all the way out to Montpelier to take my test. My mother’s main argument had been for Rita’s loose lips after all. But I push the idea from my mind and continue browsing the store. For one thing, they may only cost ten dollars, but those may be ten much needed dollars after I get the bill for my car repairs. On top of that, my phone is dead, and the last thing my mother heard from me is that I’m on my way to see her. If I took a test now and used the taxi service to go home, she’d have no way of knowing why I never showed up. At least not until way later after I got home, and she’d be worried about me by that point.

  I search the walls of the store for a clock, but don’t see one. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever for this taxi.

  I peek back over at the forsaken little aisle. What if I still went to Oakland, but just took one of these cheap tests until then to ease my conscience? Heavens know I’ve had plenty of time to kill. I glance over at the cashier, double-checking to make sure I don’t know him — which I don’t. I cradle one of the little pink boxes in my palm.

  Fast Acting Response!

  That’s when — finally — a glimpse of yellow flashes in my peripheral. Outside the glass wall of the store, the taxicab pulls up to the curb and waits. I set the box back in its place and toss my empty bottle of tea in the trash before plastering on a smile and greeting my late driver.

  A young man with tossed blonde hair and a lopsided smile greets me, mentioning nothing of an apology for the delay. He opens up the back passenger door for me though, so I do allot him a few points.

  But when I slide into my seat, my body literally jolts when I register whose face is staring at me from across the bench.

  Chestnut eyes, dark spiky hair, and for a split second, an expression that mirrors the surprise in mine. He suppresses it quickly, assuming a neutral expression. I follow his lead, reaching for my door to shut and clearing my throat.

  “Grace,” Liam says coolly.

  I regard him with the smallest of smiles, without taking my eyes from the view outside my window.

  “Alrighty!” The driver says, joining us in the car, “To Montpelier. Oakland Clinic, right?”

  “That’s right,” I say stiffly, wondering just what kind of odds these are supposed to be — that I would somehow end up in the same taxicab as Liam Cross.

  22

  Rae - Friday

  Though I usually hate photoshoots, Zoe found a way to make ours fun. Before we left, she let us see a sampling of the shots she got, and judging by our photos, you’d never be able to tell there was something going on between me and Adam. Absolutely zero tension showed through our picture-perfect faces.

  Afterwards, Adam had to rush back to work to chaperone an activity, and I was left with a cleared schedule and a predicament: should I go to the Café with Sam and Rosie?

  Does Adam’s problem with Sam mean I can no longer ask Rosie to be a bridesmaid?

  That doesn’t seem fair. His issue with Sam has nothing to do with her. In fact, going out of my way to reschedule a meet-up with just Rosie felt borderline obsessive of Adam. You don’t see Rosie acting this way about Sam spending time with me. And surely Adam wouldn’t care if I popped in for a brief moment, just to ask Rosie and then leave.

  Yes. That’s what I’ll do. In - out - done.

  I felt terrible for the way I ditched them both yesterday, and Adam’s main issue was with Sam and I being alone anyway. It’s not like I’m about to go see just Sam.

  When I arrive at the Café, I make sure to turn my phone volume all the way up, remembering how that’d been a problem last time. I pocket my phone and enter the building.

  Right away, I hear my friends call my name. Two smiling faces wave me over.

  As I’m walking to their table, it suddenly occurs to me that Rosie has every reason to not feel comfortable around me anymore, seeing as though she is now in a serious relationship with my ex. But as she stands and spreads her arms out to me for a hug, I realize that’s nonsense.

  “Rae!” She says, practically jumping as she hugs me, “It’s been way too long!”

  I’m laughing now, “Rosie, look at you. You finally got that booty you always wanted.”

  She smiles with pride, “Isn’t it great? Squats for days.”

  Much like Sam’s subtle changes, Rosie has a few of her own. While she still has the same green eyes and short strawberry-blonde hair, my friend who always had a slight figure finally started filling out, and it looks amazing on her.

  “Couldn’t have her looking so incredible without me,” Sam says, giving me a side hug, “Hence, the gym membership.” He says.

  I smile taking my seat, “It’s so good to see you guys again. Sorry I had to run out on you yesterday.”

  Rosie leans in, “Sam says it's because you had an engagement photoshoot! What on earth? I’m missing out on your life!”

  I laugh, “Not anymore you’re not. I would love for you to be a bridesmaid.”

  She beams, “Um, yes! Yes a hundred times. When is your day? Is the wedding local?”

  Her enthusiasm is contagious.

  “Just over seven months now, and yes, all local. We’re having it in Mr. Cane’s old barn. He offered it to us for free.”

  “Wow,” She says, “That’s going to be stunning with all those maples and the lake!”

  “I should’ve known this would turn into you girls ‘talking wedding’ the whole time.” Sam says, taking a leisurely sip of coffee.

  “Sorry, sweetie,” Rosie says, squeezing his hand, “You two talk. I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” I say.

  “To get my beautiful bride friend a cup of coffee. And when I get back, I wanna hear about your guy.”

  I laugh, rummaging through my purse and producing a few dollars, “You don’t have to do that, Rosie. Here.”

  “I insist.” She waves me away and flounces off to the other side of the Café.

  I shake my head, smiling, “I forgot how wonderful she is.”

  “I didn’t,” Sam says, eyes trailing her as she walks.

  “Sooo,” I lean in, raising my brows suggestively, “Are you gonna make your move on her any time soon?”

  He smiles, “If marriage is what you mean, I’d like to, but not any time soon. Rosie wants to finish her degree first, and I wouldn’t mind having mine out of the way either.”

  “That’s fair,” I agree, “I guess I kind of lucked out with an older guy. I didn’t have to wait for him to finish anything before we made the next move.”

  “How much older are we talking?” Sam says.

  “Twenty-five. Nothing too crazy.”

  “Old enough to have a steady job in the real world before settling down?” Sam nods, “I like that for you.”

  “Me too,” I say with pride, “Trust me.”

  He smiles, “Well, I know Rosie is thrilled to have a part in your wedding,”

  The door to the Café jingles as it opens.

  “And if there’s anything I can do for you too,” Sam continues, “don’t hesitate to let me know.”

  “Thanks, Sam, I definitely will.”

  The door to the Café
never jingled close and the chilly autumn air wafts over to our table. I peek over to see who’s holding the door open for so long and see Adam’s face staring right at our table. He looks pale as he stands in the doorway and his lips are pressed in a thin line. The moment I’ve registered who it is, I also register that it appears as though Sam and I are alone at this table.

  I stand, intending to go to him. But in a serene sort of way, he turns and exits the building.

  Shit.

  I’m frozen in my tracks, thinking a hundred miles an hour.

  Rosie comes bouncing back to our spot and hands me a hot to-go cup, “Here you go, Rae. Who was that?”

  “Um,” I say, barely able to focus. I can feel the warmth of the coffee in my hand, but it’s the only thing keeping me present.

  Adam thinks I’m cheating on him.

  “Rae?” Sam says.

  “That was Adam,” I say looking between them, “Thank you so much for the coffee, Rosie, but I should probably go talk to him.”

  “Oh sure,” She smiles, “You’re coming back, right? He’s welcome to join us!”

  “Um,” I say, shaking my head to clear it, “I’ll text you, okay? It was so good seeing you guys.”

  “Oh, okay,” She says, shoulders falling, “Talk soon then.”

  “Definitely,” I say, giving them both hugs before I leave the building.

  I apparently didn’t make it out quick enough, because all I see are the taillights of Adam’s car rounding the corner, going in the opposite direction of home.

  23

  Grace - Friday

  I am thankful for the emergency book I keep stowed away in my purse. Since my phone died, I’m glad to have something to focus on while we drive. Anything but Liam.

  Just a few more minutes, I tell myself, and it’ll be over.

  That’s when the cab begins to slow down on the interstate. Way down.

  I glance up from my book to investigate the problem, and to my dismay, I see a long line of red brake lights as far as the road stretches ahead.

  My lips part slightly as the car comes to a complete stop.

  “Ooh,” The driver says from the front, “Bummer, dudes. Looks like a showstopper.”

  I suppress the need to let out a deep sigh. You cannot be serious right now.

  “Did you have an appointment?” He says to me, “You may want to call and let them know you’ll be late.”

  I release the sigh now. “No, I didn’t. I was just visiting — oh, it doesn’t matter. My phone is dead, anyway.”

  “You can borrow mine.” Driver says from the front. A sticker hanging down from his rear-view mirror says “My name’s Terrance! Tips appreciated!”

  “No,” I say, “Thank you, Terrance. I may take you up on it after awhile, though. If this doesn’t let up soon.”

  He smiles and flips the radio on, keeping the volume low.

  I resume my book reading, determined to appear interested despite not actually processing a word. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him watching me, but I feel his gaze more than anything. I flip the page in my novel, making my eyes move from the left side of the page to the right, line after line.

  Suddenly, a soft laugh comes from my left, and I can’t help but look over. His eyes are still fixated on me, and he wears an expression of amusement — the same one he wore in the Café when I placed myself across the table from him.

  I narrow my eyes at him and flick my gaze down and up his form, “What?”

  He smirks, “Are we just gonna pretend you didn’t leave me a nasty message this morning?”

  I snap my book shut and give him a face, like seriously?

  He holds his hands up in surrender, ever smiling at me, “Hey, you have way more explaining to do than I do.”

  “Excuse me?” I snap, “Are we just gonna pretend you don’t have a girlfriend? Or that it's okay for you to go passing around your number to any girl who bats an eye your way?”

  So I may be a little heated. So what. Our bad experiences can help us discover what we’re passionate about.

  “Well, if by ‘girlfriend’ you mean Sakura, she’s my sister.”

  “And since when did it ever become okay for — wait … what?”

  He throws up his hands again, raising his eyebrows in innocence, “Oh no, go right ahead. You’re on a roll.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, “You mean to tell me that the girl who met you at the Café the other day is your sister?”

  He crosses his arms, “Is that allowed?”

  I shake my head, “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that, Liam,” The girl’s features appeared richly Asian American. “You two look nothing alike.”

  “If you’re referring to the fact that she’s Japanese and I’m clearly not,” He says, not skipping a beat, “She was adopted. Just a few years before I was, actually.”

  “Oh,” I say, nodding my head in a mocking way, “The two of you were adopted. How convenient. And what about the fact that she kissed your cheek when she saw you?”

  “It’s a … family thing,” Liam says, “But even if it wasn’t, that’s just Sakura. She’s really touchy-feely.”

  My smile doesn't reach my eyes, “Oh, I’m sure. That’s just how she is.”

  He uncrosses his arms, “This conversation is starting to feel really unfair.”

  “Unfair?”

  “Yes.”

  I squint, “How do you figure?”

  He spreads three fingers, ticking each one as he makes a point, “For one thing, you have some preconceived ideas about me that are totally arbitrary. For another thing, you’re basically coming at me with accusations based on your own assumptions about me, thereby not allowing me to defend myself or ask you any questions in return. And for a final thing, I never even got to formally introduce myself.”

  I pause, blinking at his formal word usage. I can’t argue there isn’t validity to what he’s saying.

  “Fine.” I relent, “Introduce yourself.”

  He laughs, “I mean, shoot, girl, I don’t know if I want to.”

  Really? He is being so frustrating.

  “Fine.” I say again, reopening my book and positioning myself away from him.

  I see him shake his head and he resumes scrolling down his phone.

  A few minutes pass as “Margaritaville” plays softly from the radio and Terrance tries to act like he hadn’t heard anything. Traffic has moved maybe an inch.

  I peek over at Liam, starting to question the randomness of this encounter. Don’t taxis that are employed by car insurance companies usually not have passengers already in the car when you call them to pick you up at a specific location?

  “Where are you even going?” I say quietly.

  “Oh,” He says, smirking down at his phone, “So you get to keep asking questions, do you?”

  I cross my arms, looking out my window at the still trees.

  “Montpelier.” He says, smiling over at me.

  I roll my eyes, “I know that, I mean where in Montpelier? Why do you need to go there?”

  “Ah, you see, Grace, this is usually how conversations work: two people take turns asking questions — so I believe it would be my turn.”

  I press my lips together, narrowing my eyes at him.

  He studies me, “Why do you need to go to Montpelier?”

  “Well,” I say, “That is, of course, none of your business. But if you must know, I’m going to visit my mother.”

  “Ah …” His face becomes serious, “She’s at Oakland?”

  “No, no,” I say, “Not as a patient. She's a nurse.”

  “Ooh,” He says, “Bet that doesn’t set well with you, does it?”

  I furrow my brow, “What do you mean?”

  He nods down at my bag, “Well, for one thing, your bag says Hyssop ‘N’ Sage. Those are both essential oils, aren’t they?”

  I stare down at my promo bag, “Uh, well, they’re both flowers. But yes … also oils.”

  “O
kay,” He says, “And am I correct in saying that traditional medicine and essential oils are like, on two opposite ends of the spectrum in the world of pharmacology?”

  I nod, slightly uncomfortable with his intuition.

  He looks smug. Impressed with himself.

  “Okay,” I say, “You got two questions. Now answer my one.”

  “Ah, let’s see, why do I need to go to Montpelier? For work purposes.”

  I nod, “Okay, better question: How did you end up in this Taxi with me?”

  He winces, “I do have a car, if that’s what you’re implying. My sister, however, does not, and she begged me to borrow it for a day trip with a girlfriend. I was supposed to have the day off, so I let her go. But this particular client that I’m working with is … difficult sometimes … and changed his mind about not needing my services today. So, alas,” He holds up his hands in a sweeping motion, “Here I am.”

  I adjust my glasses, “I see … and you didn’t have like, a friend or something that could take you? You had to call a taxi?”

  He holds a hand to his chest in offense, “Alright, first of all, ouch.”

  I roll my eyes, trying not to smile.

  “And second of all, yes, I do have a friend.”

  He nods his head toward Terrance, who salutes me in his rearview.

  “You guys are friends?” I say.

  “That guy?” Terrance says, eyeing Liam with mock disgust, “No way.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, “Is he the reason you were so late?”

  Terrance looks triggered.

  “You were picking him up on the way to pick me up.” I say, “Which is basically like using my money for a free ride.”

  Liam squints at me with a smile, “Isn’t your insurance covering this?”

  I wave my hand, “Irrelevant.”

  “And if it weren’t covered by your insurance, don’t go thinking for a second I wouldn’t cover the entire thing for my riding companion, no matter who they turned out to be. Because that’s what a gentleman does.”

  “Well,” I counter, “It still made Terrance late in picking me up, which, in a way, is robbing me of my time.”

  “Oh please, my house was on the way to where Terrance was picking you up. It just so happened that he was scheduled to take you to the city that I needed to get to, so it was a perfectly convenient situation.” Liam says, “But the fact that, of all people, you’re the person who needed the taxi in the first place … is an anomaly.”