Clean Inspirational Romance: Escape to Paradise (Inspirational Happy Sweet First Love Second Chance Romance) (Contemporary New Adult Love Inspired Holiday Short Stories)

by Johanna Jenkins

  “Yeah,” Theo nodded. But there was something different about his affirmation. It was more hesitant, more questioning than most people’s. Bridget tilted her head slightly.

  “Oh? Was there something you didn’t like about your experience today?”

  “No, no,” Theo backtracked quickly. “I –“ He ran a hand through his hair, casting his eyes skyward as he searched for words. “It’s nothing,” he waved it off assuredly.

  Bridget gave him a nod and decided to let the subject drop. “Alright then. When’s the next time Dr. Winters would like to have you in?” She opened his meager file, scanning the charts and notes. “Not for a while – it seems you have good teeth,” she laughed, and Theo joined in.

  “That’s always good to hear,” he said.

  “Mhm. So, I’ll set your next appointment for …” Bridget scanned the calendar. “How about six months from now, on the twenty-third?” She pulled the screen towards Theo, pointing to a tiny square.

  “Hold on one second…” Theo pulled out his phone, no doubt to check his own calendar for availability. A few finger swipes and taps later, he nodded. “Sounds good to me. What time?”

  “Morning or afternoon?”

  “Morning, please.”

  “On the twenty-third, Dr. Winters is available for a nine o’clock appointment, a ten-thirty appointment, and an eleven o’clock appointment.” Bridget read off the times to Theo and then looked up expectantly at him.

  “How about eleven?”

  “Okay.” She typed in a few letters. Bridget looked up at him with a smile. “You’re all set. Thank you!”

  “Thanks,” Theo parroted back with a small smile. He pushed a slip of paper towards her, hardly more than a scrap, before hurrying out the door in what Bridget felt was an alarmingly fast pace. She assumed it was meant as trash, so she picked it up and was about to toss it in the wastebasket when she saw there was something written on it, in black ink.

  Theodore Noyes. And a number she could only assume was his.

  Bright pink flushed against her cheeks and she couldn’t deny feeling absolutely flattered at the gesture. It was hardly something she would expect – the only other time this had happened to her was when she was in college, and it had been from an incredibly awkward guy in her sociology class.

  She couldn’t deny the thrill of happiness that ran through her, though. Thank you, thank you, her heart sang. If this wasn’t God answering her prayers, then she certainly didn’t know what was. She hadn’t expected it to be so soon, though. And she certainly had not expected it from Theo. Bridget had been planning on making it through the rest of the day with the man in mind, then getting off work and returning home to pine over her single status with a large tub of ice cream.

  It was an unexpectedly sweet turn of events, and if the rest of her coworkers noticed a brighter disposition about her for the rest of the work day, they tactfully didn’t say anything.

  *****

  Bridget heard the quiet click of the key turning the lock, and slowly entered her apartment, exhausted after a long day of work. It was a modest apartment, furnished with modern décor and minimalist designs – Bridget personally was more of a flashy, vintage type person, but saving up required curbing any unnecessary expenditures. She didn’t mind – she was hoping to save up enough to buy a house of her own, perhaps with a boyfriend or husband in tow by then. But for now, this worked.

  The glass cup clinked softly against the table as Bridget set to work pulling out food – vegetables, grains, meat (probably fish again). She had always been adamant about eating healthy – it was the one habit in her life that she was probably the proudest of. It didn’t mean she wasn’t stuck eating leftovers, though. She pulled out a bowl of soup from the night before and reheated it as she set to work cooking a small dinner.

  “Hey, Picasso,” she greeted the overly zealous Corgi as he came bouncing around the corner, no doubt having heard her open the refrigerator door. He was a rambunctious two-year-old, acquired from the local shelter, and Bridget couldn’t have been happier with him.

  Not too long later, she sat down with her dinner in front of the television, Picasso begging petulantly with soulful, brown eyes as she ate.

  “Nope,” she told him around a mouthful of greens. “This is my food.” Bridget put her fork down to point towards the kitchen, where two steel dishes were laid out on the floor. “And that’s your food. You need to eat healthy, too. And that means no people food.”

  Picasso responded with a soft whine, followed by a series of gruff barks and whimpers. Bridget tactfully ignored him, turning on the television to watch whatever shows were on at the moment. After several minutes of intense channel flipping, she gave up and reached for her purse. As she was sifting through the mess inside, looking for her phone, she came up on a scrap piece of paper. She lifted it up, rather confused and read it.

  Theo. Everything that happened that morning came back to her in a flood. She had forgotten, in the mad afternoon rush of patients, and all thoughts of the man had run clean out of her mind. She panicked, naturally.

  What if she called? What if she didn’t call? When should she call if she decided to? What should she say? What, what, what. Countless questions flooded her mind, and she hurriedly stuffed the paper back in her purse, searching for her phone with a new sense of urgency.

  When at last she found her phone, she quickly unlocked the screen to send a quick text to Marnie, her best friend. After the text was sent, Bridget willed herself to calm down. She wasn’t a young teenager, pining after some cute guy in school. She was a grown woman, a lady who needed to get her priorities straight. Bridget huffed a breath. Life was so complicated. But having grown up in the church, she always kept her compass pointed to God, trusting Him to guide her through the mess.

  Well, God. She decided to try talking to Him, as she always did when she found herself at a crossroads in life. I don’t know what You have planned for me; You gave me his number – should I call him? Should I not call him? She paused to think about it briefly. I’ll call him, she decided, after much hesitation and worry. I’ll call him, and if was meant to be, You’ll let me know. If it was not meant to be, You’ll also let me know.

  Bridget leaned back against the couch, rather satisfied with her ultimate decision. She was glad, glad for the safety of the Lord in whom she could place all her trust and fears and worries with. Oftentimes, life pointed her in a multitude of directions, but it was always Him who showed her the right one. Sometimes, the world won, and she would only realize she had been wrong after consequences had been had. But when she followed God though it was a faith placed on an overwhelmingly blind trust, she knew He would guide her through the storms that followed.

  A quiet blip told her Marnie had responded, and she affirmed Bridget’s decision though it was given in a much more excited fashion. After dinner, Bridget decided. Or perhaps, she looked up at the clock, alarmed, tomorrow morning?

  Wasn’t it too late to call someone at seven thirty in the evening? He could be having dinner? Or possibly still at work. She fretted as she cleaned the kitchen, washing her dishes and putting them away. To call, or not to call? To call, she decided. That is what she had determined halfway through dinner. But now, it seemed even more complications were arising.

  When to call? How to call? What to say? Bridget let out a frustrated groan, flopping down on the couch once more. Picasso gave a little grumble, having realized now that she really wouldn’t be giving him food, and toddled over to his dish and began eating.

  Marnie. Marnie! Yes, Marnie would know what to do, Bridget thought, bolting upright. Marnie had a boyfriend already, and they had been steadily dating for the past year and a half – she definitely knew how to do this. Bridget sent a quick text to her friend once more, then decided to go shower.

  She would be lying if she said she hadn’t had thoughts preoccupied with the idea of love, and piqued by her curiosity about Theo, in the moment between her sending the text to Mar
nie and receiving a reply. Love wasn’t something she dealt with often in her daily life. Picasso had been enough for the past few years, as had her struggle in establishing a solid position in work. But now, with most of life’s bumps out of the way – at least temporarily – Bridget could focus her attention on finding a Godly man, and hopefully husband. She shook her head at the thought of a husband. It was too soon to be thinking thoughts like that. She’d wait on that.

  As she toweled her hair dry, she checked her phone.

  “Just call him. If you don’t call now, he’ll assume you’re not interested. And talk about anything. Just not the weather. Or work. Or how their day was.” Bridget made a small, impatient noise. What on earth was she supposed to talk about then?

  But, if that was the case, she would call Theo shortly afterwards, then. She checked the time. It was eight in the evening. Bridget was highly dubious it would work, if at all. As the thought actually dialing crept nearer and nearer to her, the violent assault of self-doubt and questions increased as well.

  What if he didn’t pick up? Did she leave a message? What if he wasn’t really interested at all? It had all been a scam. He was just messing with her. What if she called and didn’t know what to say? They’d be seated in silence for several awkward minutes, and then they’d hang up. She could completely mess up her possibly one and only chance at love. It had been set up all too perfectly, and she was going to mess it up.

  A ping had her looking down at her phone.

  “I know you’re freaking out right now. I can just see it. Stop. Breathe. And get your life together.”

  Marnie knew her too well, Bridget thought with a bemused smile. She left the phone to dry her hair with the blow dryer, and it was during then that she managed to gather up her courage and determine exactly how she was going to call, what she was going to say – in all possible scenarios – and what she would do following the conversation.

  Yes, she set her jaw determinedly. She would script out every possible scenario she could and hopefully pass through the hoops without any incidents. But even after her own little pep talk and Marnie’s tough love, she still couldn’t manage to muster up the courage to pick up her phone. She looked at the slip of paper, which she had set down beside her phone. It lay there innocently, all too innocently. Bridget ruffled her hair, unconfident in her decision to call. Her phone lay there, almost mocking her.

  I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it. She didn’t move. It’s like ripping off a band-aid, she told herself. Get it over with quickly. And, almost of its own volition, her hand shot out and grabbed her phone. With trembling fingers, she dialed the number on the paper and watched with fascinated horror as the line began ringing.

  Half of her sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t pick up. The other half of her was thrilled to no end at the possibility that he might.

  The ringing at the other end seemed to continue on and on, forever. Bridget held her breath, only hearing the thudding of her heart and the rush of blood in her ears.

  And then the ringing stopped. Bridget blinked. She couldn’t hear anything.

  And then, “Hello?”

  *****

  “H-hello?” Bridget echoed the voice. It sounded tinny, small and far away but was unmistakably the deep baritone of the man she had met just hours earlier in Dr. Winters’s office.

  “Hi.” He sounded surprised. Bridget wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign. “I didn’t think you’d actually call,” he laughed, explaining his tone of voice.

  “Oh. I didn’t think you’d pick up, to be honest,” she said, relieved. “I thought it was going to be some kind of joke,” she laughed.

  “That’d just be mean,” he said, feigning hurt.

  “Yeah,” Bridget responded, quite unsure of how to proceed with the conversation. It was extraordinarily awkward, as uncomfortable as it was thrilling, and she couldn’t imagine having to potentially have this conversation with him, face to face. The conversation fizzled out – neither really knew what to say.

  “I saw you had a miniature Bible on your desk, on my way out,” Theo’s voice brought her back to the present.

  “Oh, um, yeah,” Bridget was relieved he’d picked up on her discomfort.

  “Are you a Christian?” And just like that, in about thirty seconds flat, they’d breached a topic of extraordinarily sensitive controversy. Bridget held her breath, unsure of how to respond.

  “I am…” she affirmed slowly, wary of Theo’s next words.

  “Cool. I am, too.” Words could not describe how relieved Bridget was to hear those four words. Often times, when she was dating, or interested in a guy, she would “accidentally” leave that bit of information out – all too aware of how easily the world judged. It was a bad practice – she knew she oughtn’t be afraid of her faith – but all the same, the risk of being excommunicated or viewed differently in society was too much for her to bear.

  “Yeah, that’s nice to hear,” Bridget said, much more relaxed now. “What church do you go to?”

  And so the conversation continued on, late into the night, accompanied by the soft ticking of the clock and the warm, neon glow of the lights outside. Bridget was surprised by exactly how much they could talk about together. True, the first few minutes of the conversation were extraordinarily awkward and extremely tentative, but after getting over those hurdles, the conversation continued much smoother than Bridget had been anticipating.

  They talked and talked, talked for several hours, on random topics, too. They talked about puppies and work (despite Marnie’s warning), about favorite artists and favorite foods, and by the end of the long call, Bridget felt herself becoming more and more drawn towards Theo, towards him and his clever way with words and his equally witty personality.

  It was too much to hope for, really, Bridget thought, with a blissed out smile on her face, that they would continue down this road smoothly and end up at the altar. But it wasn’t too much for her to dream, for her to dream of a friendship with her newfound friend, and it wasn’t too much for her to look forward to meeting him for coffee the very next day.

  *****

  He was waiting for her at the café, patient in a navy blue peacoat and casual button-up. She had dressed semi-formally for the occasion, at the insistence of Marnie, who had even come over to raid her closet for “something decent to wear – Goodness Bridget, you need to go shopping.”

  “Hey,” she greeted him with a smile, as she sat down at the booth, opposite of him.

  “Hey yourself,” he grinned. He gestured to the menu. “See anything you like?” Bridget picked up the menu, feeling rather self-conscious. She could feel his eyes on her – not all the time – but just long enough to feel either extraordinarily happy that he found her interesting to look at, or extremely self-aware and wondering exactly she had worn wrong.

  “I’ll just take a coffee and a biscuit,” she said, setting down the menu. She wasn’t really hungry – she’d come out to actually meet Theo, after all. She’d expected for their meeting to be less… awkward? Bridget didn’t know how to put it. After all, their conversation last night had gone smoothly, and so she presumed too much and expected that level of comfort to carry over to the meeting today. She had been so wrong. There had been a level of awkwardness she’d felt nagging at her since she left her apartment, and there certainly was no shortage of it here, either.

  “Sounds good,” Theo nodded. He waved the waiter over, and Bridget was grateful for the moment of reprieve she had while his attention was diverted. So this is what first dates feel like, she thought. She had “dated” a few people in college, none of which were actually taken seriously, but this was the first time she’d ever done something like this – most of the people she had gone out with had already been long time friends who’d just so happened to escape briefly from the friend-zone.

  She was rather alarmed to see the waiter go but said nothing, instead diverting her eyes to the salt and pepper shakers. Theo peeped at her with a bemu
sed smile.

  “Why so shy?” he teased.

  “I-I’m not!” Bridget protested vehemently. “I’m just, not used to this kind of thing,” she admitted sheepishly.

  “We can quote Bible verses at each other like we used to do in Bible drill if that makes you feel better,” he deadpanned, a look of utter solemnity on his face.

  “Well then.” Bridget feigned the same amount of seriousness. “Exodus 3:5.”

  The face he made was absolutely adorable. “What’s Exodus 3:5?” he queried. “Excuse me,” he added, pulling out his phone, no doubt to look it up. When he did, he pulled the most pitiful, offended look he possibly could muster at her.

  Bridget found herself laughing, and just like that, the ice that had settled over them broke, and the uncomfortable tension dissipated. “Well, then,” he said indignantly, “I’ll just leave then. I’ll just leave and never come back,” he huffed.

  Bridget couldn’t stop laughing. “Sorry, sorry. That was mean of me.”

  “Yeah, it was,” he agreed, though the twinkle in his eyes told her he hadn’t taken it to heart. “See, there you go.” He had a warm smile on his face.

  “What?” Bridget tilted her head, confused.

  “You were so tense before, you looked like Bambi lost in the woods,” he said, amused. “But now you’re fine – you’re like the you I was talking with on the phone yesterday.”

  “Oh. Yeah,” Bridget nodded.

  “And there you go hiding again,” he accused her teasingly.

  “I’m not! I just… get embarrassed easily,” she defended herself.

  “Mhm,” he raised a skeptical brow. Just then, their coffee arrived, though it wasn’t long before they were both abandoned in favor of more interesting conversation.

  Theo, Bridget found out, was a medical student who had recently wrapped up his internship and was searching now for a few local hospitals to work at.

  “Smart,” she raised her brows, impressed.