Life, Libby, and the Pursuit of Happiness

by Hope Lyda

  Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,

  And mortal life shall cease,

  I shall possess, within the veil,

  A life of joy and peace.

  Pan stood upright with the help of Jude, Blaine, and myself. She was groggy, but her mind did not wander long. After she made sure her camera was fine, her thoughts and statements kept returning to my growing list of shortcomings as a friend. When she could walk a straight line she excused herself and me to the back of the sanctuary lined with bulletin boards promoting Sunday school, reading groups, Bible studies, and potlucks.

  “Couldn’t you extend a little lifeline of fact to a friend before she made a complete idiot of herself? You knew all about Jude at the time I told you about the documentary, and still, those pretty lips of yours never revealed…”

  “It was painful to not tell you…”

  “Wait a minute…those pretty lips are hiding something.”

  My hand went to my mouth. “Blaine and I are together.”

  “Your boss?”

  “He won’t be my boss for long, so it isn’t a weird thing.”

  Pan hugged me tightly and then withdrew suddenly. She held me away at arm’s length. “You haven’t been dating him all this time without telling me, have you?”

  I laughed. “No. This is news as it is happening. We just admitted our feelings for one another. Speaking of which, how did you feel when Jude told you everything.”

  Pan looked away, restless and frustrated. “Stupid. All this time I was gaining a crush at adolescent speed and I was talking about Seattle’s music scene like an expert while I’m rubbing elbows with the man, the story of a lifetime, and I missed it. The fact that I got to hang out with him takes a bit of the sting out, but you owe me so much.”

  I shook my head. “He told you everything, right?”

  “What else is there? The guy I made go watch sheep rotating in a pasture for two hours is Jude Shea.”

  “Jude!” I called out to beckon the cop-out rock star.

  He hurried over. “You’re okay, right, Pan?”

  She nodded and looked down at her feet.

  “Your explanation seems to have some missing blanks for Miss Garrett.” I motioned with my hands for him to proceed.

  He put his hands in his front pockets and then his back pockets and then in his jacket pockets. He wasn’t looking for anything other than courage. I pulled him close to me and whispered, “Let me help you here. Did you tell her you like her? Did you tell the woman she gets to interview you and receive a slam dunk for the competition?”

  “To my defense, she passed out before I could tell her the rest,” Jude said loudly.

  “There’s more?” Pan’s eyes grew wide.

  “We want you to interview us and film our first recording. You can show it at the event to unveil our reunion…if you want to, that is.”

  Pan reached for my arm to steady herself. “Yes, I want,” she said. “Are you sure you want people to find out through me? Won’t your label get mad?”

  “Long story,” I explained without explanation. “Speaking of long stories…this story isn’t over. Jude has something else to say. Should I leave?”

  “No!” Pan and Jude said in duet.

  “Pandora, I’ve really enjoyed our time together. I even liked the time staring at the sheep. Don’t ever tell anyone about that, by the way. I think you are kind, smart, incredibly interesting, and beautiful. You like to laugh, but you don’t like to give away your emotions. That I can relate to. Oh, wait.” Jude spun on a heel and headed to a pew, where he grabbed a bouquet of flowers and a white bag and brought them back to Pan.

  “Flowers for you. Biscuits and chew toys for the dogs. Will you go out with me?”

  “You want to go out, go out. Like date?” she asked, incredulous.

  “I do. But there is a stipulation. You have to go out with me, not Hudson.”

  “I kind of liked Hudson. Is this Jude guy just as nice, smart, and sweet?”

  “He is,” Jude said shyly. “I’m glad I found you.”

  Pan smiled and nodded profusely to the sweet sound of being found.

  Amazing grace! How sweet the sound

  That saved a wretch like me!

  I once was lost, but now am found;

  Was blind, but now I see.

  Forty-Three

  The wind gained force and whisked all around Jude and me as we walked from Eighth Street toward the water and in the direction of the bookstore.

  “Got the pastries?” I asked. “Did you take a bite of that marionberry one?”

  “Yep and yep,” he affirmed.

  “I knew it. Mr. Diddle won’t know where to start with this pastry buffet!”

  “He’ll pick the blueberry one. It has the most icing.”

  “You’ve gotten to know him rather quickly.”

  “Underneath the few words and the seemingly limited life, the guy’s an open book. Pun intended. I can’t believe you are playing hooky.”

  “I don’t think I can officially call it playing hooky if my boss approved it, can I?”

  “We will today. It’s more fun that way. That’s one nice guy. You’d think that after what you two embarked on last night, he’d want you with him.”

  “Maybe I’m too much of a distraction for what the poor man has to do today.”

  “He’s not confronting Cecilia, is he?”

  “No, but he’s telling Ken everything. He can’t keep her misuse of corporate reputation and finances a secret.”

  “Will Ken blame him?”

  “He’s more worried about how Ken will perceive me.”

  “Just think. If Ken says ‘fire that girl,’ this could be your life every weekday.”

  “Because I would meet a sugar daddy or win the lottery in this scenario?”

  “I could support you. If all goes as planned, I’ll keep receiving my royalties. That’s plenty for a while. You could be my urban missionary project.”

  “I’ll get back to you on that. Maybe Pan won’t want to share your wealth with a woman who does her mission work from a bench at the coffee shop or the floor of her favorite bookstore.”

  The wind picked up and we hurried our steps toward the familiar doorway.

  I stopped a couple of feet short of the door and craned my neck forward with shock. “Mr. Diddle’s an open book, you said?” I pointed to a small handwritten sign taped to the lower corner of the window which read “For Sale.”

  “Wow. Most unexpected.”

  “He can’t sell. He and this bookstore are part of this city. This store is that special hidden treasure just waiting to be discovered by the right person at the right time. Open that door. I have hot coffee and a hot temper.”

  “Right this way, then!” Jude let me inside to the space that had been my refuge on so many Sundays when I didn’t have the courage to go to church, but I knew I had to be somewhere meaningful in the morning.

  We didn’t even have to look for Mr. Diddle. He was perched on a stool behind his cash register desk. He didn’t actually have a register. He used a shoe box and a receipt pad. He looked up at us and smiled warmly. His eyes lit up when he saw the white pastry bags we had in tow.

  “Sell? Sell!” My earlier arguments had faded and only my disbelief came forward in spurts. “Why? Sell? No…I won’t allow it.”

  “Libby. Did you think I’d be here forever? Besides, you won’t be coming back here as regularly.”

  “Why not?”

  “I figured it was about time you went to the other place on Sunday mornings.”

  “I don’t know how you know that,” I said, pouting, “but I agree. However, look at this. It’s a Friday, and I’m here. I need 80 Days. It is part of my routine in this city.”

  “Jude, do you hear this lovely young woman? She thinks she’s the only one who gets to make a change.” Mr. Diddle laughed and rummaged with delight through the bags. He reached for the blueberry pastry and licked the top.

  Jude ga
ve me an “I told you so” look. “It does sound like she’s implying that.”

  “Whose side are you on?” I demanded.

  “Everybody’s,” Jude said. “Why don’t we celebrate Mr. Diddle’s next step. Which is?” He pulled up two stools for us across from Mr. Diddle.

  “I’m traveling,” Mr. Diddle said with typical simplicity.

  “Traveling? That doesn’t mean you have to sell,” I protested while smearing cream cheese on my onion bagel.

  “I want to leave things open. You see, I’ve met someone.”

  Jude and I both stopped mid-bite. I released my jaw first. “How?”

  “Libby!” Jude said.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant…How? You don’t leave the store.”

  Mr. Diddle laughed heartily. He was enjoying every minute of this. “The girl is right, Jude. I don’t exactly get out on the town. But the miracle of today, as you two should know, is that one can correspond with potential dates with email.”

  “You used an online dating service?” I asked both intrigued and appalled. “You didn’t tell some woman that you are thirty years old and drive a convertible, did you?”

  “Ye of little faith,” Jude said with dismay. “Libby, give the man some credit. Who is she, Mr. Diddle?”

  “It’s an interesting story, how I met this woman. Libby, you are the one responsible for this event in my life.”

  “She’s good at that.”

  “What do you mean? Is she a pastry chef or something?”

  “Her name is Madeline Ruth Kingston.” He smiled and waited for my reaction. He didn’t wait long.

  “You went from pen pal status with my aunt to online romance?”

  Jude’s eyes grew wide. “The Practice of the Presence of God aunt? The nun?”

  “Ex-nun,” Mr. Diddle and I said together. Mr. Diddle pointed to Jude. “It is her.”

  I was in shock. “She never mentioned this development. I talked to her last week and…”

  “I know. She told me.” His eyes twinkled when he said this.

  “Unbelievable. So what? You’re going to Croatia, I suppose?”

  He nodded and reached into the bag closest him on the counter. His hand withdrew clutching a maple bar.

  “You get to go on the trip of my dreams to see my aunt?”

  “Mm-hmm,” he confirmed with a full mouth.

  “That’s a great story!” Jude said, apparently missing the pain this was causing me.

  “When do you leave on my trip?”

  “As soon as I sell this place. Maybe now I should use those marketing ideas.”

  “No way. Too late, Mr. Diddle. I’m not going to help you sell this bookstore,” I said adamantly. I took a few deep breaths and realized I was being very selfish. I loved Mr. Diddle. I loved my aunt. This was a good thing. “I’m happy for you and for my aunt, though I will give her a piece of my mind about keeping this a secret.”

  “Because you never keep secrets, right?” Jude pointed out.

  He was right. I had to laugh at myself, but I was still upset about losing this important place and about watching this dear man pursue the trip I had planned many times.

  “Why wait? I have an email started to her right now. You may tell her just what you think about all this.” Mr. Diddle motioned toward his back office.

  “I think I will. Do you mind, Hudson?”

  He raised his arms in submission. “I wouldn’t dream of standing in your way right now! What was that about a woman scorned?”

  He and Mr. Diddle chuckled like two gossiping old men. I turned around quickly so they wouldn’t see me smile, and I headed for the computer to tell my life’s role model congratulations.

  I walked circles around my living room. Every few minutes I glanced out the window to the street below. Cecilia had sent a cab for Jude. I hated to say goodbye. Even with Jude and Pan becoming a couple, I knew things would be so different after he was back in the limelight. I felt as though I were losing a longtime friend. I heard the zip of a backpack and the snap of a suitcase latch before Jude surfaced from the bedroom. He placed his things by the door and came over to stand near me by the window. We both looked out over his old neighborhood. It was easier than looking at one another.

  “Libby.”

  “I know.”

  “This is so strange,” he said in a muted voice.

  I looked at him. “But not as strange as it would’ve been a year ago.”

  He smiled and hugged me close. “I hate to say this, but I will have to thank Cecilia for everything. This is exactly how everything needed to turn out.”

  “I’d like to think an authority beyond Cecilia had something to do with it,” I said, laughing. “But I know what you mean, and I agree.”

  “Well, that’s a given.”

  “Before the cab comes, let’s go over tomorrow’s plan.”

  “Good idea.” He turned from the window and walked the track I had just paced. “Cecilia will leave for the EMP event, likely leaving me behind in her apartment so that Paulo can have his guys serve me with legal papers. But I’ll sneak out as soon as she leaves, take a cab back here, pick you up, we’ll go over to the event together and await Pan’s turn to present her proposal. Then voilà…the world will know. That it?”

  “Be sure to take all your stuff with you that evening. Once Cecilia’s plan crumbles, I don’t think she’ll be inviting you back to her place.”

  “That reminds me, I have this.” Jude reached in to his back pocket and retrieved my copy of The Practice of the Presence of God. “It’s yours.”

  “No, you keep it. Most of the margin notes are yours, anyway.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Mr. Diddle owes me. I’ll get a copy before he leaves town. Before he leaves me.”

  “Thanks, Libby.”

  A cab pulled up. We watched as Newton went outside, peered in to the passenger window and motioned for Jude to come down.

  Jude looked at me as if reading my mind and said, “We’ll hang out, Libby. I swear. Besides, I’m in love with your best friend. How far away do you think I’ll go?”

  “You’re right. We’ll see lots of each other. But don’t talk to Pan between now and the event. Cecilia might hear you and catch on.”

  He held up a cell phone. “It’s hers, so she can call me right before the event. Don’t worry. I’ll be discreet. Besides, she’ll be at the editing suite all night and probably most of tomorrow, and she has no phone there.”

  “Jude, I really hope Torrid gets a second chance.”

  “And I hope Ken shows you mercy.”

  “I’ll know soon enough. Blaine and I are getting together tomorrow morning.”

  “Not tonight?”

  “No. I didn’t want to emotionally deal with Ken’s response tonight, not after your departure. Blaine and I agreed to meet up with a fresh perspective tomorrow.”

  The cab driver honked a couple times.

  “If you ever need a job reference for…I dunno…hiding people or a personal reference for a roommate, let me know.” Jude kissed me on the cheek, gave me a wink, and headed out the door with his belongings.

  I decided not to watch out the window as he left. I went to the kitchen to make some coffee. I wasn’t hoping for genius. I just knew I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

  Forty-Four

  A knock at the door the next morning startled me. “Who is it?”

  “The guy who never goes past the lobby,” Blaine called through the keyhole.

  I smiled and went over to let him in. We stood awkwardly for a moment, staring at one another, and then Blaine hugged me to break the ice. “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  “Breakfast for two.” He held up a McDonald’s sack. I could smell the hash browns and began to salivate.

  “Take a seat anywhere. Do you want coffee?” I headed to the kitchen for paper plates and fresh coffee.

  Blaine took off his coat and rolled up h
is sleeves. He sat tentatively on the couch. “Yes to coffee.” He was silent for a moment before stating, “I hope things go well for Jude. I wish the best of luck.”

  “That’s good of you. I know you are still not impressed with him.”

  “That’s not true. After the night at the church, I realized I was quick to judge him. There’s no reason a guy like him can’t experience transformation. I actually liked the new song. It was basically about redemption. I was surprised.”

  I returned to the living room and sat beside him. “It surprised me too. After the ladies in blue sang ‘Amazing Grace,’ Jude changed the name of his new song to ‘Mortal Life’ since it’s about the hardness of being human and the hope of change.”

  Blaine considered this. “I like it.”

  “Now give it to me straight. On a scale of one to ten, how mad was Ken.”

  Blaine held up ten fingers. I put my face in my hands and groaned.

  “But only at Cecilia.”

  I looked up. “Really?”

  “Mostly he was disappointed. He gave Cecilia a chance after Paulo had basically messed up her life years ago. He genuinely cares about her and hates to see her get messed up with Paulo again.”

  “Is he worried that tonight could mean bad media for Cecilia and for the firm?”

  “Well, he did have issues with how that could play out, but again it was more out of concern for Cecilia. He’s afraid she’ll never recover once her reputation is dragged through the mud again.”

  “He can’t talk to her. It will ruin everything. She’s too involved in this from start to finish. If Ken informs her about what is going to take place, she’ll tell Paulo, and he’ll influence FreeTime and the EMP board. He could pull Ray and Trevor from the judge’s panel and they have to be there so that Torrid can perform ‘Mortal Life’…”

  Blaine grabbed my hand to calm my nerves. “I understand. I think all of that needs to happen, but I’m also wondering if Ken isn’t right too. That seems wise to me.”

  I thought through it or at least tried to. I didn’t see a solution. I stood up, full of energy and anger. “Dang that Cecilia! She makes me so mad. After all the garbage she puts me and others through…”

  “Yes?”

  “I still want to help her.”