The Children of Wisdom Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  “You should’ve seen the look on your face,” I say through my tears. It feels good. It’s been a while since I’ve laughed this hard. Maybe I’ve never laughed this hard at all.

  The crowd on the busy downtown sidewalk maneuvers around us, some people smiling at our joy, others annoyed by the commotion.

  Eventually, we compose ourselves and continue on to our destination, but before we get to the deli, I realize something—Andrew didn’t accept my invitation. My friend deserves to be happy.

  “Hey, so how about the play? You in? I mean, now that you know I’m not propositioning you,” I persist as we turn off the sidewalk and into the deli.

  Andrew gives me a sideways look. “Why? What’s so great about it?” he asks, still skeptical.

  “The lead.”

  A lightbulb comes on for Andrew. “This is about a girl! Wait, a girl for you or a girl for me?”

  I take a breath. Here is my defining moment. A girl for you. Once it’s out, I can’t take it back. I hold it on the edge of my tongue for as long as possible. Placing my order at the deli counter, I go about collecting napkins, a straw, condiments, and my drink.

  Once we both have our bags in hand, and we’re on our way out, Andrew poses the question again. “A girl for you, or a girl for me?”

  I look at him sadly. “A girl for you. A girl for you.” I say it twice, as if to convince myself of the truth of that statement. I wasn’t expecting to have to let her go already, and the finality of it hits me hard. To make it worse, Andrew starts asking questions about her.

  “What’s she like? You know I don’t date much. And I wouldn’t have expected you, of all people, to fix me up with someone. That’s something my sister would do.”

  “I know. But this one is different.”

  “Different than what? You haven’t met any of my exes. You have no frame of reference,” Andrew points out.

  I sigh, wondering why I should have to defend her to him. I shouldn’t have to explain how wonderful she is, especially not to her true love. “Tell you what. Let’s just go to the play. If you don’t think she’s for you, we won’t stop and say hi to her at the end. We’ll just go home, and I’ll make up some excuse about why I didn’t see her after the show. No big deal.”

  “So you’re friends with this girl? I’ve never heard you talk about her before.”

  “You’re awfully suspicious. No wonder I don’t do nice things for you more often,” I say with a sidelong grin.

  “I don’t like being fixed up,” Andrew insists.

  “That was in no way unclear. But this doesn’t even count as a date. She doesn’t know I’m bringing you, so no harm, no foul if you don’t fall in love with her when you see her up on stage.”

  Andrew laughs out loud at that. “Penn. You’ve been spending too much time in the shop. People don’t fall in love at first sight, at least not real love.”

  “Want to make a bet?” I say, suddenly feeling lucky.

  We’ve reached the bridal shop, and Andrew smiles with undeserved confidence as he holds the door open for me. “Absolutely.”

  Once we settle in the back room and take our lunches out, I set the terms of our gamble. “Fine. Loser buys lunch for a month.”

  “A month?” Andrew says, a bit incredulous at the stakes.

  “What’s the big deal? You won’t lose, will you? People don’t fall in love at first sight. Remember?”

  “Fine. A month. And I get to pick where we go.”

  I stick out my hand, and Andrew takes it. But before we shake, I clarify one detail. “And the winner picks the place to eat.”

  “Sounds good,” Andrew says as we shake hands.

  I can’t help but feel like I’ll win the bet, but lose the prize.

  9.

  I arrive at the off-Broadway playhouse twenty minutes early, and start pacing outside as I wait for Andrew. Despite the cooler evening temperatures, I’m already sweating in my brand-new suit coat and jeans.

  I’ve made enough extra money from my creations for the shop to buy myself an entire wardrobe. In my early days at the shop, I had to borrow all my things from Cedric, so it’s nice to have my own clothes. Even Andrew gave me some basic pieces to help round out my wardrobe. The thought comes as a bit of a relief. Andrew is worthy of Kismet, in every way. I’ve done the right thing by asking him here.

  Still, when I finally spot Andrew approaching, I feel a mix of relief and dread. I wasn’t sure he would come. Part of me hoped he wouldn’t, and the cosmos would allow me to have Kismet all for myself.

  Relief wins out. As I watch Andrew walk up, dressed almost exactly as I am, I smile in spite of myself. They will be perfect together, truly beautiful. They will exude happiness in every possible way, and people will look at them and smile. Who am I to deprive the world of that joy?

  We take our seats a few rows back from the front, right in the center. We have an excellent view of the stage, and despite the sense of loss I feel, I’m also excited. I’ve never witnessed the moment when two people I’ve created for each other finally meet. I know it will be special, but I have no concept of just how much.

  As the lights go down, Andrew leans over. “She’s the lead? Kismet?” He pronounces her name slowly, clearly unsure of how to say it. “What kind of name is that?” he whispers.

  I roll my eyes. “It means destiny, you idiot. Watch the play.”

  The curtain rises, revealing Kismet standing on center stage. She’s dressed in a flowing, white gown, with the telltale pearl dangling from the center of her forehead. She’s older than the Childlike Empress from the original story, but other than that, the role suits her. The writer has changed the character slightly, so that her name comes more from her interests than her appearance.

  “Nothing is… well, nothing. It’s dangerous in its nothingness. Empty and all consuming,” she says, holding the audience captive from her very first line.

  I reluctantly tear my eyes away from her and look to Andrew, whose mouth is hanging open in disbelief as he watches her. He isn’t blinking. I can tell that Kismet is speaking right to his heart. It truly is a special magic to see him react to her, his soul mate.

  After the show, Andrew and I don’t speak. I can tell the man isn’t capable of words. I debate whether it’s the right time for them to meet, but I decide it might be fun to watch Andrew stumble a bit.

  So, we hang around out front for a while. Several minutes pass, and I start to wonder if she went out a back entrance. Andrew’s not as impatient as I am; he’s staring dreamily into the night sky.

  Then Kismet appears through the door, and our breath catches at the same time. Dressed casually, she still looks every bit as magical and unearthly as she did as the Childlike Empress.

  She doesn’t notice us at first; she simply slings her purse over her shoulder and looks both ways, ready to face her journey home. But I interrupt that train of thought.

  “Hi,” I call out to her. She searches for the source of the voice, and then gives me a big smile when she recognizes me.

  “You came,” she says as she walks over to me. Andrew stands up and smiles handsomely at her, but she doesn’t see him at first. She comes right to me and hugs me, making Andrew a bit unsure.

  I relish the hug, probably lingering a bit longer than I should, but I know it will be our one and only interaction that dances with possibility this way. As soon as she sees Andrew, I will be nothing more than a friend. Anyway, Andrew will share a lifetime with her, so I can’t feel too guilty about stealing an extra moment or two from my friend.

  Kismet lets go and pulls back, beaming. “What did you think?”

  “I thought it was amazing. Brilliant. You were perfect,” Andrew says, not able to contain himself any more.

  I watch as Kismet’s expression goes from confused to completely enchanted. Their two souls have found each other, and it is absolute magic. The power of it takes my breath away. I can hardly believe I almost tried to keep them away from each other.

&
nbsp; I clear my throat. “Kismet, this is Andrew. I brought him along because I thought he might enjoy your play. Seems I was right.”

  “Andrew, it’s very nice to meet you,” she says as she holds out her hand, never once taking here eyes off him. “Have you boys eaten? I’m famished after that performance.”

  We shake our heads no, and off we go, Kismet looping her arm through Andrew’s as they walk, natural as could be, me trailing a few paces behind them. I listen as they chat easily, telling each other about their lives, careers, how they know me, dumb things about their childhoods, everything. I barely get a word in, but I’m content to sit back and watch this beautiful connection I’ve created. As much as I love Kismet, I’m thrilled to watch her with her true love. It tells me that these two really were my best creations.

  Andrew buys me lunch every day after the play. Most days, he asks what I want, and he always treats without a word. He doesn’t even object the day I suggest the new hippie vegan place down the block. The food is disgusting, but it’s totally worth it to see him try to gag it down without grimacing. This daily unspoken confirmation of his feelings never fails to bring a smile to my face.

  The next months are a whirlwind. Word about the miracle designer at Feldman’s spreads quickly, and orders are coming in fast for custom dresses. I set up a system where I meet with a client, get to know her a little, and then create something to suit her specific personality. Some girls like more of a boho chic look; others like a lot of poof and frills; still others like a clean, sophisticated look. Each of the dresses I make is absolutely perfect for the bride for whom it’s intended, tailored to her in every way.

  I never let anyone else work on the dresses. A while back, Cedric offered to have the alterations department do the small work, the hemming and taking in, but I refused. The devil truly is in the details. Cedric hasn’t brought it up again.

  On the other side of my life, Andrew and Kismet are inseparable outside of work. They spend every available moment together, and when they’re apart, they can’t stop talking about each other. They often include me in their outings, but I know they also spend plenty of time alone together.

  A couple of months later, I’m working on a special order for a bride when the receptionist buzzes me on the speakerphone on my table. “Penn, there’s someone to see you,” she says. Lowering her voice, she adds, “And you never answered my lunch invitation.”

  I sigh, growing tired of the constant come-ons from the women in the shop. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had an appointment. I’ll be right up.” I hate when I lose track of time and forget things, but sometimes, I get so wrapped up in the work, I lose sight of everything around me.

  Before the receptionist can respond, I shrug on my suit coat and head to the sales floor, smoothing my pants as I go.

  Just as I’m shaking the wrinkles out of the coat and round the corner to the front of the shop, I look up and see Kismet standing at the desk, talking animatedly with the girl behind it. I’ve been expecting to see her—after all, I helped Andrew shop for the ring—but it still catches me off-guard.

  Kismet is starting to earn some local fame from her performance in the play, and it’s clear the girl behind the desk recognizes her. Her face is on a large poster just around the corner from the shop. Clearly, the receptionist is a little starstruck, but Kismet either genuinely doesn’t notice or pretends not to.

  When I walk up, they’re deep into the details of the latest episode of some show I’ve never heard of.

  “Wait! Don’t tell me! I have it on my DVR,” Kismet says as she closes her eyes and waves her hand at the girl.

  “Kismet, what a pleasant surprise,” I say.

  We share a warm hug that gives me strength for what I know is coming. I play dumb, so she can have the satisfaction of showing off her ring.

  After our embrace, she brings her hand around and sticks it under my nose. It’s a beautiful black diamond set in rose gold with tiny black diamonds swirling around the band. It fits perfectly on her hand, just like I knew it would.

  “Oh Kismet, it’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning. Congratulations,” I say as I look into her eyes, seeing the excitement dancing in them. In fact, she’s having trouble holding still. She bounces on her heels until I finally let go of her hand, and then she leaps into my arms, squealing as she goes.

  I know people are looking at us, but I don’t care. Her joy is contagious, and I see the smiles on their faces as I spin her around.

  “Well, let’s see about a dress, shall we?” I take her hand and lead her to the back room. Normally, I meet with clients in a meeting room. Over a two-hour or so meeting, I’ll sketch out what they want, or what I think they want, then make changes and take notes. Usually, the client goes to get measured, and I go to my workstation to get started. But Kismet is special. Her dress is already done. The only problem is that Andrew has seen it.

  As we walk, I ask her a few questions about the engagement. “Did you tell your parents?”

  “Yes. We called them last night. But I wanted to wait to tell you. I mean, I know you already knew, but still.” She shrugs. “I wanted to tell you in person. You made this happen. This smile on my face.” She points to her face, making me smile with her.

  “Do you want me to call Andrew down?”

  “No!” she says adamantly. “He has strict instructions to stay in his office.”

  I nod, surrendering to the wishes of the bride, and can’t help but laugh. “I want to show you something,” I say as we walk past my workstation, moving deeper into the back, where I keep a lot of my materials. When Cedric requested something new and fresh for the front window, I moved her dress out of the way. Cedric, of course, asked if he could sell the dress, but I refused. I told him the dress was my muse, and I could only bear to part with it for the right bride.

  And here she is.

  I move a few piles of threads and fabric out of the way, and then pull the mannequin out for her.

  “That’s…” She trails off, holding her hand on her chest as she gazes at the dress.

  “Please, take a look at the whole thing,” I suggest, gesturing for her to take a lap around the entire dress.

  She automatically does as she’s told without making a verbal response, her mouth hanging open. She toys with her necklace to keep her hand busy as she walks around the dress. “This is perfect. Did you make it?” she asks.

  “I did, my first day here. There’s just one problem…” I hesitate, not sure how she will take the news.

  “Did someone else buy it? Why would you show it to me if it already belongs to someone else?” The panic in her voice makes it raise at least two octaves by the end of her question, and I hold my hands out in surrender, trying to calm her down.

  “No. This dress is yours if you want it.”

  “So what’s the problem?” she demands.

  “Andrew has seen it.”

  Her breath hitches, but a crooked smile steals across her face. “What did he think?”

  “He loved it. Thought it was great work,” I answer honestly. “It was months ago, so I don’t remember his exact words, but he did like it.”

  “He’ll like it even better on me,” she says, walking closer to the dress and gingerly touching the beadwork on one shoulder. “I want to try it on now. Can I?”

  “Of course. Meet me out front. Have one of the girls get you a room, okay? Let them know if you want champagne or anything. I’ll be right up after I get the dress off the mannequin,” I say.

  She claps her hands and skips happily out of the back room. As I carefully remove the dress, I can’t help but feel this moment is a little bittersweet. Like I have an eternity on this Earth, and my journey is already coming full circle.

  Of course, the dress fits her perfectly. “It’s like it was made for me,” she says, the disbelief plain in her voice.

  “It was,” I say. “I made it the day we met.”

  Kismet looks at me with such love and sorrow, and her b
eautiful green eyes fill with tears as she reaches for my hand. Standing there on the pedestal, wearing the lace dress I made for her, she’s a vision to behold. The tears spill over and run down her cheeks.

  “Why are you crying?” I ask, suddenly concerned.

  “Because you are so good to me. I know you love me, Penn, and I love you too, but Andrew…”

  I smile in spite of myself and wipe a tear from her cheek. “I know. I know in a way that even you don’t. You were quite literally made for each other.”

  She nods emphatically. “I love you even more for understanding. I can tell you’re not just saying that to placate me. You know. And you still love us both.”

  “Of course I do.” I squeeze her hand. “Now dry your tears so we can Skype your mom, okay?”

  She wants to pay for the dress, of course, but I made it for her, and it’s mine to do with as I please. I offer to give Cedric money for the materials, but he refuses me. He seems almost as sad as I am to see the dress go, albeit for different reasons. He calls it a work of art—the catalyst that started the shop’s climb to bridal boutique fame.

  Everyone has trouble being productive after Kismet walks out with the dress that day. The shop feels somehow emptier without it. But like everything else when it comes to Kismet, I know I have to set it free.

  The following months pass by like a strong spring wind. I feel completely engulfed by their wedding plans. Andrew names me his best man, and Kismet leans heavily on me for help with figuring out most of the details. Her parents both live in Florida, and her girlfriends are proving less than helpful. But I’m happy to be included.

  They often invite me over to their new apartment for dinner. It’s a small studio, but it’s not the indoor space they’re paying for. The balcony has views of the city I could watch forever.

  One night, while Kismet is washing dishes, Andrew and I sit out on the balcony watching the world go by on the street below.

  “Penn, can I ask you something?” Andrew asks, his dark eyes thoughtful.

  “I’m quite confident you can. Particularly based on the stunning skill with which that last question was executed.”