Where Love Finds You (The Unspoken Series)

by Marilyn Grey

“You’ll find her, Matthew.” She turned the music back on. “Now, let’s get this first coat finished.”

  Gavin rubbed his eyes. “You mean to tell me you are falling for a widow who wants nothing to do with falling in love with someone else?”

  “There you go. You’re reading into things again.” I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a sprite. “I’m saying she is beautiful in this way I’ve never seen before. She is sticking by this guy no matter what. She knows she is beautiful and could get married again if she wanted to, even if she had ten kids, but she is not interested. I have to constantly remind myself to not be attracted to her because this love she lives is magnetic. It makes her more beautiful than she already is.”

  “Interesting situation you have found yourself in.”

  “It’s definitely weird, man.” I opened the sprite and took a sip. “Really weird.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “Nothing at all. She is cute and sweet, but never flirts with me at all. She never sends the message that she’s interested. She only talks about him. Get this. She told me she will never take her wedding ring off because no man will ever be worth it.”

  “Wow.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Yeah . . . wow.”

  “She’s young. She’s only twenty-four or five, can’t remember. An entire life ahead of her, a baby inside, and she’s going to do all of this without a man because the only one worth marrying is still alive to her.”

  “Maybe that will fade with time and she’ll reconsider.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t give up so easily.”

  He leaned against the side of the refrigerator and crossed his legs. “I’m just being honest. It could happen.”

  “I want to find a love like that. I want to find a woman who loves me like that, and a woman I love like that.”

  “Me too, Matt.”

  “So you do think it’s possible?”

  “Of course.” He walked toward the living room. “Just hard to imagine sometimes.”

  I followed. “Do you think you will settle if you don’t find that?”

  “I don’t know. This isn’t the central part of my life. I’m going one day at a time here. Whatever happens, happens.”

  “I don’t buy it.”

  “Buy what?”

  “You haven’t been the same since your last breakup. It still gets to you. I know you think about love more than you let on.”

  “We’re men. Come on, now. Do we have to talk like we’re women all the time?”

  I laughed. “You’re probably right.”

  “Anyway, I’d like to come and paint this house with you sometime. Maybe next Tuesday since I have nothing to do. I really want to hear this girl’s story.”’

  “I don’t think she’ll mind at all.” I finished my soda and bent the cap off. Weird habit. “Oh, by the way, I know you think about this stuff as much as I do, you just don’t want to talk about it because it upsets you.”

  He shook his head. “Go play the piano or something.”

  Ch. 13 | Ella

  Dee begged me to go on another blind date. Every time I saw her it’s the first thing she said, the last thing she said when I left, and pretty much the only thing she said during our time together.

  “Here.” She came into my office and handed me a large rectangular box.

  “What’s this?”

  “Converse shoes dropped them off this morning for his friend.”

  “You are too much.”

  “What?” She walked to the door. “He’s cute.”

  “Let me guess.” I opened the box and pulled out three framed paintings. “Is Converse shoes guy the one you asked to go on a blind date with me?”

  She waved her finger in the air. “Now, there’s an idea.”

  She left the office in a hurry. Must’ve been busy out there. Dee is nothing short of a sweet person. Real, compassionate, and not as intimidating as she comes across, but why did people in relationships always seem to think every single person around them should be in a relationship as well?

  I glanced down at the images on my desk and saw the feet of a couple walking in the park. Autumn leaves raining around them, but you could only see their legs and some glistening trees in the background. Romance painted so simply. Kind of made me reconsider the blind date idea.

  Second one, a man and woman sitting at a piano. Her head on his shoulder and eyes on the keys, while he looked down at her as he played. Very sweet. They both wore all white, a perfect complement to the antique piano. Then I saw the shoes. Those Converse shoes again, barely tied under the piano bench.

  I analyzed the art for a few more minutes. Could that really be him? Is he with someone else?

  I’m crazy, I thought, then moved on to the next picture and dropped it into my lap. I blinked a few times to make sure. Yes, definitely Sarah looking back at me.

  Sarah?

  Yes. Sarah. On a park bench under the streetlight. Half moon hanging in the indigo sky behind her. Frost-laden tree branches sparkling in the moonlight, just like her hair and eyes. Angelic and beautiful, she leaned forward on the bench, arms at her sides. I loved the soft brush strokes. His style made every picture look so poetic.

  Sarah came in late every night. I didn’t see her for

  three days, which wasn’t normal since we lived together.

  Finally, I stayed up and waited for her to come in. Guess I can’t say I actually stayed up. I fell asleep on the couch and woke to the sound of the key turning in the door.

  She jumped. “What are you doing awake?”

  “What are you doing? I haven’t seen you in days.”

  “I’ve had a lot going on. Been trying to deal with everything. Not sure what to do.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Her keys jingled as they landed on the couch beside her. I sat up and pulled the blanket to my chest. She yanked another blanket from the back of the couch and curled up underneath.

  The ticking of the clock talked for us. Minutes passed. And a few more. We listened to each other breathe. Her chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, then she stopped breathing for a second and wiped her eyes.

  “Sarah, what’s going on? You’re worrying me. Is he abusing you?”

  “No, not at all. He’s fine and supportive and for some odd reason loves me more than I could ever love someone after knowing them for three minutes.”

  “Three minutes?”

  She laughed and sniffed. “You know what I mean.”

  “Then what is it, Sarah?” I took her hand in mine. “I’m serious. What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t say yet. I’m sorry. You deserve to know everything about my life. You’ve been the closest person to me for years.”

  “Then why can’t you tell me? I haven’t seen you in days, you’ve been crying yourself to sleep. I even called your parents and they said they haven’t been able to get in touch with you either.”

  “You called my parents?”

  “I’ve never seen you like this. What happened to the joy that never dies? The smile of yours that would sometimes haunt me in my dreams.”

  She tried not to smile. “It has nothing to do with James. It has nothing to do with anyone but myself.”

  “Then why can’t you tell me?”

  She pushed my shoulder. “You’re so stubborn.”

  “You can’t always handle things on your own. Sometimes help is needed. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  She inhaled. Her chest rising and falling to the ticking of the clock. I listened to her cry, then sob into her blanket. In all of my years with her, I never, ever saw her act like that. Of course, my brain went to the worst.

  She’s been abused, I imagined. She’s been raped, something horrible happened. Of course, in all of my twisted thoughts, I never imagined what she’d say next. Too bad Google didn’t have a self-diagnosis option for crying best friends.

  Again, she dried her face with her blanket and looked at
me.

  I nodded, reassuring her that I’d listen without trying to talk.

  Her lip quivered along with her hands. “I think I have cervical cancer.”

  Had I been standing, I would have fell to the nearest flat surface. Images rushed through my mind. Chemo, clumps of hair in our bathtub, me losing my best friend, the one who understood me, the only one who could be my maid-of-honor.

  “How serious is it?” I managed to whisper.

  “I don’t know yet. I’ve never been so scared in my life, Ella.” Strands of hair clung to her wet cheeks. “We’re so young. I’m not married. There’s a chance this is nothing, but my pap-smear came back abnormal. I’m scheduled to have a procedure done once my period is over. That’s when I’ll know for sure, but Ella, I’ve looked this up online like crazy and it’s got me so worried. It could be nothing, but if it’s cervical cancer and it’s too late, what next? Not to mention”—she closed her eyes—“what if I lose my chance of having children?”

  “I can’t imagine going through this. It’s hard enough watching this happen to you, but let’s not jump to conclusions.”

  A laugh barely escaped her lips. “Look who’s talking.”

  “I know. Ironic, huh? Seriously though. You are the one who is supposed to think positively. It really could be a fluke, and if it is cancer in the early stages I’m sure everything will be find and you’ll be able to have children.”

  “Will you do me a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Promise?”

  “Of course. Anything. Really.”

  “This has my head spinning, not to mention my heart. I’m processing things I never wanted to process this soon. All this to say, part of me wants to marry James just because I wonder who’s gonna want me if I can’t have kids. Part of me wants to stay single forever because I can’t imagine making any man go through that with me.”

  “I understand, but listen, you really don’t know what tomorrow holds. Everything could be fine. Don’t think too much about it until you know for sure, okay?”

  “Starting to feel like you. How do you think this much on a daily basis?”

  “It seems like I do, but I really don’t. There’s a lot that I question, a lot I wonder about, but I really don’t sit around thinking all day about my past or future. I have hope and I live there, in the hope of tomorrow. Sometimes I question myself and that’s probably when I seem so out of it, but it’s not every day.”

  “Sure seems like it.”

  “Lately it has been, but don’t compare yourself to crazy people like me. You are my happy sunshine friend. Don’t let something like this take that away from you. If you die, die happy. If you live, live happy.”

  “Wow. What wisdom you have tonight, my dear.”

  “Yeah. If only I could live by my own words, I’d be a lot better off. So, what is the favor you want from me?”

  “I know this will be hard for you, but can we not talk about love and romance for a few weeks? I need a little time to think about life right now without worrying about my love life, and your idealism might make me completely lose my mind right now.”

  I laughed. “Here’s to being honest.”

  It may be hard to believe, but with Sarah’s cancerscare, I completely forgot about the painting, the Converse shoes, the love of my life waiting in the shadows of who knows where. She asked me to come with her to her procedure. I did. Days later we were watching Kevin Spacey fool everyone in The Usual Suspects when Sarah’s phone rang.

  I listened. Waited. Wondered who called.

  Her phone fell to the ground, along with her body.

  I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Sarah?”

  “No, this is her friend. Who is this?”

  “This is Dr. Wharton. Please have Sarah call me back tomorrow to set up an appointment. We’ll need to go over some things.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  I don’t remember if I said goodbye. Sarah, on our living room floor in fetal position, took me to another world. A world I didn’t want to be in. Young, like she said. How could this be? Why Sarah? Why not me?

  I sprawled out on the floor next to her, head against hers. Sometimes sound isn’t needed to express pain. Sometimes the most painful cries are the ones no one can hear. The noiseless whimpers that we hold inside. Maybe we’re too afraid of what people think of us. Maybe we are too afraid to let the pain out because we don’t want to admit it’s there. Maybe we’re afraid to start because we’ll never stop. Whatever the reason, Sarah didn’t cry aloud. Her body, still and warm, occasionally stopped breathing. We stayed there for hours. I pretended to sleep while she pretended not to cry. Minutes ticked by, turning the night into a new day, a new page of life to scribble on. We barely slept. Her, too afraid to close her eyes. Me, too afraid to not be there if she let loose. She never did. We remained there, on the living room floor, as the outdoor lights and sounds lulled us and her silent sobs escorted us to sleep.

  We woke up the next morning, early, still on the floor.

  “What am I going to do?” Sarah said before most of the city rose for another day of life, another day of life without thinking about death.

  I turned to my side and looked at her. “It will be okay.”

  “This is surreal.”

  “It is.”

  The quiet morning soothed our thoughts. Birds sang to us from somewhere outside the window. So many moments in our friendship were filled with that comfortable silence only close friends share. This time, I wished for the words to say. The silence knifed through my heart and chopped it into pieces, so many pieces that I couldn’t put it back together to find the words to say.

  I guess there are some moments in life that don’t deserve the spoken word. Actions are louder and deeper than words could ever be. So, I stayed there with her, in the muted living room, until she finally stood.

  “I’m feeling better now,” she said. “Thank you for being you.”

  I stood and hugged her. “I’m here. I know you well. You will survive this with a smile. You’re the only person I know who could smile your way to the grave if that’s what it came to. This is just the initial shock.”

  “You’re right. I am not going to let this break me. I’m going to smile.”

  And with that, we smiled our way to the kitchen.

  Ch. 14 | Matthew

  The week passed and no, I didn’t agree to another blind date. I did spend more time with Heidi, though. We finished the living room and dining room and started priming the master bedroom. Not the most pleasant situation in the world, but the bedroom obviously meant more to her than any other room. She didn’t talk much as we primed the walls. She didn’t spend much time in the room with me at all, actually. I think it made her too emotional and she didn’t want to cry in front of me.

  Thankfully, I couldn’t make it back until Tuesday, when Gavin decided to come with me. At least I wouldn’t be alone as we splashed the primed walls with streaks of crushed berry and charcoal.

  She never explained the crushed berry and charcoal colors to me. I didn’t expect her to.

  Gavin and I stopped in Chances on the way to Heidi’s. Iced coffees were becoming a must-have for my morning start-up routine. Gavin ordered a hot coffee on a humid August day. Never understood that. Dee helped us. We got to know her pretty well. Nice girl. Funny, she asked me if I’d be willing to go on a blind date with the owner.

  “Would that mean I get more of my art in here by default?” Gavin said.

  She smiled and gave him his coffee. “I would think so. Especially if it’s of Mateo here.”

  ‘Blind-dates aren’t my thing.” I sipped my coffee and looked around. “Look, one of your paintings is already up.”

  Gavin spun around. “Ah, the one of you and Lydia.”

  “Is that you?” Dee asked.

  I nodded.

  “Is that your girlfriend?”

  Gavin nodded.

  “We
just broke up after a very long relationship,” I said.

  “What happened?” She covered her mouth. “Am I saying too much? Please tell me to shut up if I say too much. I have a tendency—”

  “No, it’s fine,” Gavin said. “Matt here is doing a little soul-searching. He’ll figure it all out soon enough. Is the owner here, by the way? I’d really like to thank her for giving me a chance.”

  Coffee went down the wrong hole. I tried to cough without spraying them and ended up coloring my shirt caramel.

  “You alright, man?” Gavin hit my back.

  The bells on the door turned our attention to a middle-aged business woman. Gavin and I stepped away from the counter.

  “We’ll talk to you soon, Dee,” Gavin said. “Tell the owner I really appreciate it.”

  We walked outside and got into my truck.

  “What happened with the coffee in there?” Gavin said as I pulled off and stopped at a red light.

  “I don’t know. It’s not like I did it on purpose.”

  He leaned on the window and looked ahead. “So, you think you’ll go on a date with the owner of Chances? What are the chances that she is the woman of your dreams?”

  “Funny.”

  “I’m serious. Why not? Kinda weird that Dee asked you and not both of us, isn’t it? Maybe it’s a sign.”

  “Not interested.”

  “Why not?”

  “Number one, she’s a business woman. Number two, she sounds snobby. Number three, she has classy taste.” He pointed at his newly stained and not-so-classy t-shirt. “Number four, I hate blind dates. Number—”

  “Alright, alright. How many numbers do you have?”

  “A lot. Point being: I’m not interested.”

  A few songs later and we ended up at Heidi’s house. Gavin helped me carry some supplies to the door, but most of it I left at her house since I’d planned on coming back so much.

  My knuckles barely reached the door when she yanked the door open and screamed so loud Gavin and I both jumped back. I don’t know about him, but my heart flew back to the truck.

  She bent over, holding her stomach and laughing. “That was a good one.”