by Erynn Mangum
“No, now I just have a different idea of what serving really means.”
The buzzer goes off in my hands before Tyler can respond. We walk inside and hand it to the hostess, who then grabs a couple of menus and leads us to the far back corner of the restaurant. “Is this table okay?” She points to a booth in the corner.
“Great, thank you,” Tyler tells her.
I sit down and take my menu from the hostess. I love California Pizza Kitchen and I’m not entirely sure why. It’s loud, the baby two tables across from us is screaming while his frazzled mother scrambles around trying to get him to stop, there is what seems like a lady and her adult son debating some political policy next to us, and the whole place smells vaguely of pepperoni and yeast.
Even so. I always ask to come here every year on my birthday when Mom and Dad come into town.
I barely glance at the menu before closing it.
“Already know what you’re getting?” Tyler asks.
“Yep.” I get the same thing every single time I come. Pear and Gorgonzola Pizza, mango iced tea, and if I’m still hungry or feel like having pizza for lunch the next day, tiramisu for dessert.
It is delicious.
Tyler wrinkles his nose when I tell him what I’m ordering. “Pears on pizza?”
“What? People put dead, canned, salty fish on pizza. I ask you, which one is weirder?”
“Whatever. I’m getting the meat lovers.” He folds his menu and sets it on the table in front of him. “So, what did you mean by you have a new idea of what serving God looks like?”
I sigh, trying to think of the right way to put what I am feeling into words. I see why the Bible mentions that the Holy Spirit prays for us when words just won’t work. Words lack a lot.
The waitress comes by then, which gives me another couple of minutes to figure out how to phrase it. We order, she nods and takes our menus with her.
Tyler looks over at me, waiting.
“It’s just …” I spread my hands out, thinking. “So, before yesterday, I would have said that I am serving God by everything I’m doing.”
“Okay,” Tyler says.
I tell him about reading the story of Jairus and his daughter. The waitress brings our drinks, and I play with my straw wrapper while I talk. “So, Jesus didn’t even rush when it was something like that,” I say.
Tyler nods. “I’ve actually noticed that before. Jesus knew He only had thirty-three years here, but He didn’t hurry around. He taught, He spent time with His disciples, and He spent time with God.”
“Right.” I take a sip of my delicious mango tea and nod. “So, I’ve basically decided my priorities need to be worked on a little bit.”
“Good.” Tyler grins at me. “And I’m stoked to see that California Pizza Kitchen with me made the priority list.” He reaches across the table and picks up my fingers, rubbing his thumb along my knuckles.
I feel myself blushing, and I hope the poor restaurant lighting is working in my favor. I like Tyler. I think he is funny, and he seems to have a good head on his shoulders.
But goodness knows I’m not ready for a real relationship right now.
I need to get my other serious relationship up and running normally again first.
Thankfully, the waitress shows up with our pizzas right then. Tyler ducks his head and squeezes his eyes shut when she leaves, still holding my hand.
“Lord, thank You for this time with Paige, thank You for this delicious dinner, and please just continue to guide Paige in the right way. Amen.” He smiles at me and lets go of my hand.
“Amen,” I echo, pulling a slice of pizza off the plate.
“So, are you excited for the next couple of weeks?” Tyler asks, after he swallows a bite of his pizza. “Isn’t Layla’s parents’ thing this weekend?”
I nod. I need to call Layla when I leave here and make sure she doesn’t need anything.
Then I catch myself. If Layla needs something, she will call me.
“Yeah.” I chew a bite of delectableness and swallow. “She wants me to spend the night in the park with Peter and her on Friday to save the space for the party.”
“Sounds good and awkward,” Tyler says.
“See? Thank you. I knew I wasn’t the only one who thought so.”
“I’ve got an idea,” he says a few seconds later. “How about Peter and I stay the night in the park and make sure no one takes it the next morning? You and Layla can join us for a picnic or something there that night and then just bring us breakfast in the morning.”
“Really?” I try not to get too excited at the prospect of not having to spend the night in the park. Not only was I going to be sleeping between my best friend and her fiancé, the idea of staying the night someplace so badly lit and so close to bugs and all sorts of nature doesn’t sound like a great night of sleep to me.
“As long as you bring coffee,” Tyler says. Then he takes a deep breath, looking at a slice of pizza. “Lots and lots of coffee.”
“Wow, Tyler, I don’t know what to say.”
“You’d better just go ahead and say yes. I’ve even got camping supplies. It’ll be like a bonding thing with Peter.”
“Yes, well, good luck with that,” I say quietly and then immediately regret it. “Sorry.”
Tyler grins. “Maybe he’s just more of a quiet guy. I mean, come on, all I saw growing up was how the girls always fawned over the silent, stoic types.” He rolls his eyes at me. “Needless to say, I wasn’t either one.”
I nod. Tyler is not very quiet, that is a fact.
“Well, it’s the whole Mr. Darcy image that’s killing you,” I tell him. “No one does silent and stoic better than him.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You don’t have to just take my word. I actually own the movie. You can watch it.” I grin. “I even own both the five-hour version and the two-hour version.”
“There is a five-hour version?” Tyler shakes his head. “Seriously. Who has five hours to watch a movie?”
“I think we’ll have more than five hours at the park on Friday. I’ll bring my laptop and we can watch the whole thing.”
“Or,” Tyler says, overannunciating the word, “we can do something fun.”
“What is more fun than five hours of Mr. Darcy?”
“Oh, let me think,” Tyler says sarcastically.
“See? It’s hard to even think of more fun ideas.”
“That is not the problem. The problem is so many ideas are better that I’m having trouble narrowing them down.”
I laugh.
He drops me off at my apartment two hours later. I am stuffed to the top of my scalp, and I even have a box with half my pizza left over. Tyler talked me into saving the rest of the pizza for tomorrow and splitting the tiramisu with him tonight.
It was a good decision.
“Thanks for dinner,” I say for the twelfth time as we stand at the base of my stairs. “I really didn’t mean for you to pay.”
Somehow, he talked the waitress into giving him the check while I was in the restroom, even though I specifically told her when I ordered that dinner was on me.
Tyler grins at me, and I can kind of see how he managed to coerce the waitress into doing what he asked. He has a really nice smile. And the subtle look in his blue eyes is making my stomach feel squirrely.
I clear my throat and look away. “Well, thanks again.” I try to sound nonchalant. I hope he is picking up my vibes about this not really being a date as much as just two friends hanging out.
“Sure thing,” he says. “So, I’ll see you on Wednesday night at youth group. Rick says we’re meeting early again.”
“Of course we are.” I nod.
“And I’ll get in touch with Peter about Friday, if you’ll let Layla know.”
I nod again. “Will do. Have a good night, Tyler.”
“You too, Paige. Thanks for letting me join you for dinner.”
Tyler waits until I’ve climbed the stairs
and unlocked my door before he waves and walks back to his truck in the parking lot. I close and lock the door behind me.
I can’t even remember the last time I had such a great day.
The week passes by in a blur of phone calls from Layla with last-minute favors, last-minute work on the banquet, and quiet nights at home. Other than Wednesday night, I spend every night at my apartment, either working on things for Layla while movies play in the background or quietly eating my dinner while reading my Bible.
It is a relaxing but fast week.
I leave work on Friday and drive straight to a local barbecue place. Who am I kidding — I won’t be able to eat out until Christmas, but at least I am going out on a good note. I buy a huge container of shredded beef doused in the infamous sauce, a package of rolls, coleslaw, baked potatoes, creamed corn, and two gallons of sweet tea.
We do picnics right here in Texas.
Layla is pulling up to the park just as I am.
“And the weather is even supposed to be gorgeous!” she squeals, getting out of her car without even a hello.
“Hello.” I grin at her.
“Hi. So, I think this is a good idea,” she says, coming over to my car and tucking a stray strand of hair back into her bun. She looks adorable. She is wearing jeans, a flowing pastel-pink tank top, and a light blue cardigan. Her hair is in a low bun and she has a headband on.
If I dressed like that, I’d look like a commercial for Easter candy, but Layla is my friend who can pull off anything. It causes both admiration and envy.
But I’m getting over it. Sort of.
I hand Layla the barbecue and pick up the box with all the sides. “We’ll have to come back for the tea.”
“Good grief, Paige, how many of us are there going to be tonight?”
“Layla, boys eat a lot.” A lot more than I ever imagined. I watched Tyler polish off his dinner, a slice of my pizza, a salad, and half the dessert at dinner the other night. Now I know why Natalie was always complaining about her grocery bills after she married Rick.
Layla just mumbles something under her breath.
I walk across the grass to the gazebo and set the box down. “So.” I stand, hands on my hips. “What’s the plan of action?”
“Well, the biggest thing is going to be letting people who come by know that we are reserving the gazebo, the big open space right there, and the area by the parking lot.” Layla sets the barbecue beside the box and points out the area she is talking about.
“The band will be performing in here, and the dance floor will be right there.” She points to the area right below the gazebo. “The tables for the food will be along that side of the dance floor, and then I’ve got tables coming for people to eat at.”
I nod. “This is going to be beautiful, Layla.”
“I hope so. I picked up a bunch of twinkle lights at the dollar store this week. Want to help me wrap the gazebo while we wait for the boys?”
We spend the next ten minutes working on some of the gazebo, though I spend more time swiping away cobwebs with a napkin than wrapping lights around the posts. Tyler shows up right at six wearing athletic shorts and a University of Texas T-shirt.
“I have a ladder I could have brought.” He watches us stand on the benches that line the gazebo walls.
This particular gazebo always makes me want to burst out into “You are sixteen going on seventeen,” from The Sound of Music.
But I refrain tonight. We want Tyler to stay, after all, and my voice isn’t known for causing gasps of enraptured awe.
Layla shrugs. “Eh. We can stand on the benches for now. I’ve got my uncle bringing in some other lighting for the dance floor tomorrow, and I bet he’ll have a ladder with him. We can finish putting up all these little twinkle lights everywhere then.”
Peter pulls up and gets out of his car. He pockets his keys in his Nike shorts and walks over. Layla waves from on top of the bench. “Hi, honey!”
“Hey,” Peter says, smiling shortly at her.
“Hi, Peter.” Tyler reaches his hand out to shake Peter’s. “How was your day?”
Peter shrugs and watches us work on the lights for a minute.
I will take that as, “Eh, it was okay.”
I guess Tyler decides to do the same because he shrugs and turns back to us. “What can I do for you guys?”
“There’s a big blanket in my trunk for us to use during dinner.” I dig my keys out of my pocket and toss them to Tyler. “And a grocery sack with plates and cups and stuff. If you will grab those things, we can eat while it’s still mildly warm.”
Tyler nods and walks across the grass to my car. He comes back a few minutes later, and Layla announces that she is starving and it’s time to eat.
Tyler says a quick prayer for us, and then we load up our plates and sit in a circle on the blanket on the grass. It really is a beautiful night. The sun is starting to fall and the humidity level is dropping. The guys will have a nice night here.
Thank goodness all my fears about rain have been wrong.
“So, I have prepared a spreadsheet.” Layla wipes her mouth with a napkin and digs in her back pocket.
“Oh boy,” I say, rolling my eyes. Layla is Queen of Last-Minute Organization. The second we are almost done with something is when she will spend eighty hours writing up an organizational chart.
It made studying with her in high school migraine inducing.
“Relax, Paige. It’s just a list of everything that needs to be done tomorrow, and see? It even has a little box next to each item to write a little check mark in.” She smiles proudly at her three-page list. “I am on top of things.”
“Eating those motivational mints again?” I ask her.
“Spearmint.” She nods.
“What time will you guys be back in the morning?” Tyler asks, finishing off his barbecue sandwich.
I look over at Layla, who shrugs. “I was thinking around seven,” she says. “We’ll come and start getting stuff set up and y’all can go home and sleep or shower or whatever and then maybe around twoish you can come back and watch the park while Paige and I go shower and get ready.”
“What time does the party start?” Peter asks.
“Five,” Layla says.
Layla’s parents are coming at six. It is all falling together. I look up at the darkening sky and then at my watch. It’s seven thirty. That gives us an hour and a half to do the dinner Layla has catered and then plenty of time afterward to dance by the light of the twinkle lights and whatever lighting her uncle is bringing.
It is going to be beautiful.
Layla finishes her dinner and lies back on the blanket, looking up at the sun-streaked sky. “Jesus, please keep it from raining tomorrow.”
“Amen.” I nod.
“And please help Aunt Wendy to remember that it’s a surprise party and not tell my parents, and please help her arrive sober so she won’t hit on Peter and Tyler.”
“Amen,” both the boys say simultaneously.
I bite back a grin and lie back next to Layla. Layla’s Aunt Wendy is one of those women who is ridiculously fun but also really needs Jesus and really doesn’t get that.
We are all quiet for a few minutes. It is very peaceful in the park right now, lying on my back, the grass soft under the blanket, the sun slowly dipping behind the trees. A few birds are singing and I hear one early cicada whirring in the trees.
I could fall asleep right here.
I close my eyes and yawn. Today has been another good day. I went to work, did some stuff on the banquet, and spent two hours talking to three people about the adoption process on the phone.
One lady ended up crying right before we hung up. “Thank you so much,” she sniffled. “My husband and I have been trying to have children for six years. You are the first glimmer of hope I’ve had that maybe we’ll someday have a baby.”
I almost joined her in crying.
I open my eyes and look over at Layla. She is staring up at the sky, cur
ling a tendril of hair around and around her finger.
It occurs to me then that all of us are waiting for something, just like that lady. I am waiting for life to calm down. Layla is waiting for this party to be over so she can then start waiting to marry Peter. And I’m sure the guys are waiting for something as well.
Tyler lies back on the blanket a foot away from me. “So,” he says, staring up at the sky. “What are you thinking about?”
I look over at him. “What are you waiting for?”
“What?”
“In life. What are you waiting for?”
He looks up at the sky again, expression thoughtful. He has a slight blond fuzziness on his face from not shaving recently, and the sky makes his eyes very blue.
It suddenly hits me that Tyler is a very attractive guy.
“I don’t know,” he says slowly, a few minutes later, still looking at the sky. “A promotion. Marriage. Kids. Football season to start up again.”
I smile at the last one.
“Why?” He turns his head to look at me.
I shrug. “Just a conversation I had with a lady today. She and her husband have been trying six years to have kids.”
“Wow,” Layla says. “That’s a long time. Are they going to adopt?”
I nod. When we hung up, I scheduled her for an initial meeting with Peggy. “What are you waiting for, Layla?” I ask, even though I already know.
“Short term?” She turns her head toward me. “I’m waiting for the stars to come out. Long term? I’m waiting until I get married so I can cut my hair short with no regrets.”
I laugh. Tyler grins.
“What are you waiting for, Peter?”
“Layla.”
One word, which is typical of him, but I actually like his answer. I smile.
“How about you, Paige?” Tyler asks.
I look up at the sky. For a long time, I’ve been waiting for life to slow down, make sense, have a purpose. I am waiting to become a real counselor, not just a secretary. At some point I want to get married, but that thought scares me more than excites me at the moment. I am waiting for life to turn out like I always imagined it would as a little girl.
It strikes me while I lie there on the grass, staring up at the darkening sky, surrounded by my best friend, someone who is quickly becoming another great friend, and Peter, that I am completely happy. I’m not stressed. I’m not thinking about what my next ten minutes will hold.
