by Noelle Adams
She knew exactly what would happen. She could see the whole sequence of events unfolding in crystal-clear detail.
And she hated it.
She didn’t want it.
She wanted… something else.
But just because almost kissing Zeke in the pool last night was the best thing to happen to her in ages, it didn’t mean Zeke felt the same way.
He’d obviously been distraught by it.
He wouldn’t even open the door to her when she stood there knocking, pleading with him, putting aside her own pride.
Cecily tried to be realistic. She tried to accept what she knew was going to happen.
But she still felt heavy, depressed, as she smiled her way through breakfast and then distracted herself with work until eleven.
She had to leave her office then. She’d arranged to have lunch with Kara that day, and she had a few errands to do beforehand. But she didn’t see Zeke in the lobby, on the pool deck, or in the front yard.
She didn’t look any further. It wasn’t like she was excited about the conversation that was waiting for her.
She knew it would be better for her mental health to just get it over with, but sometimes mental health wasn’t a person’s top priority.
Sometimes you just wanted to hide.
Feeling better that she’d at least made a gesture toward looking for him, she got into her car and drove into town. She went to a couple of shops and then to the bank before she arrived five minutes early to the little sandwich shop where she’d arranged to meet Kara.
She felt slightly guilty for the suspicions she’d started to have about Kara’s motives, so she’d called her yesterday to ask her to lunch. She’d learned a long time ago that when she started to have negative feelings toward a person with no firm foundation for them, it often helped to counter them with kindness.
Sometimes it took acting nice to start feeling nice again.
She was hoping that would happen today.
She ordered an ice tea and checked email on her phone as she waited, working hard to not let her mind drift back to what had happened in the pool last night.
She could still feel Zeke’s hand cupped around the back of her head, his other hand pressed against the small of her back.
She could still see the hot look in his eyes when he’d gazed down at her.
She hadn’t mistaken it. She’d known what it meant.
In that moment, he’d wanted her as much as she’d wanted him.
But they were both adults with a lot of history and baggage. Wanting someone didn’t mean you could necessarily have them.
She was working so hard to control her mind and not keep replaying the scene over and over again that she was surprised to see that it was quarter after noon.
Kara was supposed to have met her fifteen minutes ago but hadn’t yet shown up.
Frowning, Cecily pulled up Facebook and noticed immediately that Kara wasn’t currently online under her main profile. Her blog post about Balm in Gilead had gone live today—the post that was supposed to be little and quiet and just for her close friends—and evidently she’d spent a few hours sharing the post to every page, group, and venue that might have the remotest interest in it.
Cecily sighed, feeling the weight in her gut grow even heavier.
It wasn’t the end of the world. People did that all the time. If you had something good to post, you wanted people to see it.
With a rising sense of dread, Cecily pulled up Kara’s other profile, the one she kept under a different name.
Cecily had discovered this profile soon after she’d met Kara, when she’d first clicked on her blog. Sock puppets were usually fairly easy to identify, especially when they were used as obviously as Kara’s. This second account left swooning comments on everything Kara posted and was always trying to share and boost Kara’s blog.
Cecily had immediately recognized the voice and the idiosyncratic use of punctuation.
This second profile was online right now. As Cecily glanced at the screen, a new post appeared at the top.
The second profile was pimping the blog post about Balm in Gilead even more than Kara’s main profile had.
Cecily sighed again and put down her phone, sitting for a moment as she decided what to do.
Kara was obviously on her phone or her computer right now instead of meeting Cecily for lunch.
Maybe she’d just forgotten.
Cecily fought back a rising sense of distaste and pulled up Kara’s number on the phone. It rang several times, and Cecily was about to think she wasn’t going to answer when Kara’s voice finally came on the other end of the line.
“Hey, Cecily! Did you see the post this morning? Isn’t it great?”
“Yes. Yes, it is. I thought we were having lunch today.”
“Oh. Oh yeah.” Kara’s voice was pitched as if she were taken by surprise, but Cecily wasn’t entirely sure that she was. “I’m so sorry! I’ve just been so busy today. The post is getting a lot of attention. I really think this is going to make the difference for me. You’re just so awesome in letting me get those pictures.”
Cecily forced a smile. “That’s great. Do you want me to wait for you here?”
“Can I get a rain check? It’s just so crazy today.”
“Of course. Just give me a call when things have calmed down.”
Cecily disconnected the call with a tight feeling in her throat and a twisting of her stomach. She sipped her tea and tried to work everything through in her mind.
It wasn’t a big deal.
These things happened all the time.
People got busy. People didn’t always follow through on what they said they were going to do.
Kara wasn’t unusual—in any way.
Controlling her breathing to keep it slow, Cecily pulled up Facebook again. Kara had made several posts on the social media accounts of Faith and Fabulousness, one of the most influential voices on Christianity and culture and who Kara clearly wanted to eventually be. To her relief, whoever was in charge of Faith and Fabulousness’s social media accounts had simply ignored both Kara and her sock puppet account.
Maybe it was petty, but Cecily really didn’t want Kara to be boosted by Vivian Harper and her team.
As she was looking, Kara made another post, one of her typical over-the-top swoony posts about how she was meeting for coffee in an hour one of her idols. Tagged in the post was a fairly popular Christian book blogger who lived in Wilmington.
No wonder Kara couldn’t have lunch with Cecily today. Wilmington was more than an hour away.
Kara had used Cecily as much as she could, and now Cecily couldn’t offer her anything more. So she’d moved on to people she thought could.
Cecily stared down at her phone, slammed with a wave of heat, followed by a wave of cold.
She’d actually thought Kara was her friend.
She was thirty-seven years old.
She shouldn’t be so foolish.
Swallowing hard, she slipped her phone into her purse and waved a waitress over so she could pay for her tea.
She wasn’t hungry anymore.
She got up to leave feeling sick and stupid and sad.
Zeke had been right all along.
***
By evening, Cecily’s hurt feelings over Kara had blurred and faded into angst about Zeke again.
She was embarrassed and depressed about the falseness of Kara’s friendship, but it wasn’t nearly as important to her as Zeke was.
And he was still avoiding her.
They needed to talk.
They absolutely needed to talk.
Once they had, Cecily could at least resolve things in her mind and start to move on from there. But she dreaded the conversation as much as she knew she needed it. So she didn’t go to look for him after lunch. Or later in the afternoon. Or at dinner when he didn’t show up.
Or after dinner, as the sun started to get lower in the sky.
At eight, she changed out o
f her work clothes and into soft, knit capris and a comfortable shirt. She debated whether or not to force a conversation before the sun went down. That had always been her philosophy, taught from her childhood Sunday school teachers.
But having the conversation would mean she would have to go to bed knowing that she could never have any more with Zeke than their work relationship.
And she hated that thought.
She hated it.
It made her feel as lonely as she’d ever felt in her life.
So, for once, she didn’t make herself do the mature, healthy thing. She didn’t search for him and make him have the conversation.
Instead, she took a walk and ended up on the fishing pier, where she and Zeke had talked the other night.
She sat down in the same spot, dangling her legs over the edge. She stared at the horizon as the sky gradually turned pinkish gray.
Here she was—turning forty in a few years. No husband. No children. All her friends and family far away. With nothing but her work to keep her company.
It wasn’t enough.
She recognized she was feeling sorry for herself, and she kept telling herself there was no reason for it. She had good friends. She was close to her sister. She loved her work, and Balm in Gilead was thriving. She had no financial worries. She had the kind of freedom a lot of people dreamed of.
God had been very good to her. Her life was one of privilege, and it was wrong for her to believe otherwise.
She was still trying to remind herself of this truth when she felt a presence behind her.
When she glanced up, she saw Zeke looking down at her.
Her lips parted slightly as she processed his presence and the surprise of it. She didn’t say anything as he lowered his big body down to sit beside her.
She tried to say something, but no words came out.
After a moment, he asked in his normal gruff voice, “What happened at lunch?”
She blinked. “What do you mean?”
“What happened at lunch?” His eyes were deep, searching. “You were one thing this morning, and you were something else when you came back from lunch. What happened?”
Her pulse sped up at the intimacy of the question, at the proof of how well he knew her. “How do you know something changed? I didn’t see you either before or after lunch.”
“I saw you.”
Her breath hitched, and she tried to contain a swell of feeling. She hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him today, but he’d managed to observe her. And he’d seen something behind the calm, composed demeanor she always wore.
“What happened?” he demanded hoarsely.
She gave a self-deprecating little laugh. “Well, you were right about Kara. She… she dumped me, I guess.”
She’d been staring at the water as she spoke, but when she finished, she darted her eyes over to check his expression.
His thick eyebrows lowered ominously. “What did she do?”
“She stood me up for lunch. Which is fine. Which wouldn’t be a big deal. But it was just… made clear in a number of ways that she was moving on… from me, I mean. I no longer offer her anything she wants, and she’s found people she thinks can do more for her.” She let out a long breath and shook her head. “It’s embarrassing, really. It should have been obvious from the beginning. I knew she was a… a brownnoser, but I still thought…”
“I’m sorry.”
When she met his eyes, she saw that he meant it. There was no trace of I told you so in his expression. She nodded, swallowing over a lump in her throat.
“The most stupid thing is that she was never that important to me. I mean, I thought she was a friend, but I never felt really close to her. I actually thought I was helping her—that she wasn’t my favorite person in the world but I was trying to be nice. So I don’t really know why the fact that she’s used me and moved on should even bother me. But it does.”
“It bothers you because you’re always committed and loyal, and so you expect other people to be as well.”
She cleared her throat, touched by the words, touched by the look in his eyes, touched by his presence beside her. “Maybe.” She took a deep breath. “Losing her isn’t any sort of significant loss in my life, but it still rankles. I wish it didn’t. And now I don’t even know what to do about her. Normally, if I’ve been hurt, I’ll go to the person and talk about it, but something inside me keeps holding me back. I don’t know if that something is fear or wisdom.”
“It’s wisdom,” Zeke said, sounding more firm now, less soft. “If you confront her about it, she’ll get angry and defensive. There’ll be a fight, and then she’ll start to work against you. People like her can be malicious. She’ll try to damage you however she can. It’s not worth it. You never had a real friendship that needs to be preserved. Just move on and leave it alone.”
Cecily nodded again, understanding that he was right. She’d never consciously worked out these ideas, but they rang true to her. “Yeah. I think you’re right. It feels like… like the path of least resistance, but maybe that’s not always the wrong path.”
“In this case, it’s not.”
She sighed again and slumped slightly, feeling better and depressed at the same time.
Zeke didn’t say anything. He just sat with her in silence while she worked through things in her mind.
After a long time, she asked very softly, “Is it possible…” When her voice broke, she cleared her throat and started again. “Is it possible to be happy with your life, to appreciate all your blessings, to not regret any of your decisions, to be doing what you’ve always wanted to do, what you feel God has called you to do, and still occasionally feel… lonely.”
She had no idea why she was asking the question, why she was letting herself be so vulnerable. She’d always tried to be honest and forthright, but there were limits to how far into her soul she’d let other people see.
This was far.
This was very far.
“Yes,” Zeke said hoarsely. “It’s possible.”
She sucked in a shaky breath and released it. “I thought so.”
“Cecily.”
At the gravelly sound of her name, she turned her head to face him again. He was staring at her with an intensity that took her breath away.
He reached up and cupped her face in one of his big hands. “Cecily,” he said as if the words were being forced out of him. “I know you feel lonely, but you’re not alone.”
She swallowed. It hurt her throat. Her hands were starting to tremble. “Aren’t I?”
“No. You’re not. I know you feel like life has somehow left you behind. I know how much of yourself you’ve poured into what you do here, into helping other people. I know you’ve always been kind and generous and absolutely loyal, looking out for the good of other people when it feels like other people aren’t always that way with you. I know you spend your days making sure other people find rest and refreshment when no one is around to make sure the same is true of you. I know you give yourself every day, only to have people feel like it’s just part of the service they’ve paid for.”
Cecily’s lips had parted, and her eyes were blurring over with unshed tears.
She’d never heard Zeke say so much—not once in her life.
She’d never believed she’d hear anything like this from him.
She’d never believed anyone would talk this way to her.
He shifted his hand to stroke her cheek gently with his thumb. “I know it feels sometimes like no one sees you, Cecily, but I see you. I see you. Every day, I see how lovely and selfless and generous you are. I see what you do for other people without ever asking for anything in return. I see you, Cecily. You’re not alone.”
The tears started to slide down her face as she almost choked on the emotion rising from her chest to her throat. “Zeke,” she managed to say.
“I see you,” he repeated, this time in a hoarse whisper.
She was shaking uncontrollably, tears still
streaming down her cheeks, but she couldn’t hold back the powerful swell of feeling. She reached out for him, fumbling until her hands were on his shoulders. And then she was leaning toward him, trying to get closer to him in any way she could.
Her lips found his, and he didn’t pull away. In fact, with a hoarse sound in his throat, he slid his hand to curve around the back of her head, and he held her still so he could take control of the kiss.
She was still crying slightly as his lips brushed against hers lightly and then more firmly. His tongue slid along her lower lip and then along the line between them until she opened for him. Then his tongue was in her mouth, and it felt better, deeper, more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced.
She clutched at him desperately, her fingers digging into his shoulders as her mind whirled with pleasure, with exhilaration. Zeke’s beard was coarse against her skin, but it seemed to trigger even more tingles of pleasure. Everything about him was big and warm and rough and urgent and solid.
Real.
She didn’t want to stop kissing him, but he finally pulled his mouth away with a ragged gasp. He didn’t jerk away and back up the way he had the night before though. He leaned his forehead against hers, panting fast and loud.
She was panting too. Her hands were still shaking helplessly as she held on to his shoulders.
She waited for him to pull away, for him to mutter about how this had been a big mistake and then go hide himself away in his cottage.
But he didn’t.
He was silent as he caught his breath, and when he straightened up, his eyes were still searching her face.
“Zeke,” she said at last, her voice breaking on the one word.
He let out a long breath and then leaned forward to kiss her very gently on the lips.
The move silenced her. She had no idea what she would have said anyway.
This time when he straightened up, he wrapped one of his strong arms around her shoulders, pulling her against him.
It felt good. Safe. Right. Being cradled in his arm like that.
She knew they needed to talk. And that they should probably do so right now.
But she had no idea what a talk would lead to, and it could very well not be good.
