Still no response.
Heather pushed on the cabin door handle. It didn't budge. A padlock held it steady. Well, that meant he wasn't here yet. She walked back to the end of the boat and sat. Maybe she was too early. She checked her watch. No, he was late.
A light breeze whipped at her bangs. She tucked them around her ear and stared out at the ocean, breathing deep. Well, at least she had a great view while she waited. A pelican flew overhead and landed on the water. He ducked his big bill down, scooped up some water and took to flight again. Heather smiled. That was cool.
She gingerly leaned over and stared down into the dark, blue water. Though it wasn't murky, it was hard to see far down. All of sudden a fish nipped at the surface. Heather jumped and laughed.
Someone walking sounded to her left. She looked up. A handsome man started walking down the pier dressed in khaki shorts and a black polo shirt.
Heater stood and smiled. This must be him. He's gorgeous.
He smiled back, but didn't stop. A second later, he climbed in another boat.
She frowned and sat again.
That sort of thing happened a few more times in the next two hours. Heather's stomach started to growl and she needed to use the facility. Enough waiting. She finally pulled out her cell phone and dialed Noelle's number.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Noelle. It's Heather."
"How'd it go?"
"Your friend never showed."
"What? Hold on. I can't hear.” A baby cried loud in the background. “Okay, sorry. I had to duck in the laundry room. What did you say?"
"Your friend, Kris, he never showed up. I've been waiting for two hours."
"Really? I'm sorry. He sounded real excited when I talked to him. Hold on.” Noelle must have covered the phone with her hand, because her voice was muffled for a second and then she came back on. “Trying to get my hubby to help is like pulling teeth sometimes.” She yelled away from the receiver. “I'm on the phone, dear!"
Heather laughed. “So, I guess I'm going to take off since it doesn't look like he's going to show."
"Are you sure you don't want me to call him? I have his number in my purse."
"Nah. If he wanted to do this, he'd be here.” Heather grabbed the rope on the dock with her free hand and lifted herself to the wooden surface, praying once again that she wouldn't fall in.
"What if something awful happened? Maybe he was in a crash or something."
Heather frowned. “I hope not. Then I'd feel really bad about the fuming and bad thoughts I have had about him for the last few hours."
"I'm really sorry, girlfriend.” Noelle sighed. “I thought he was a keeper."
Yeah, Heather had thought that before. “No worries. I'll see you on Monday, okay?"
"Yeah, bye."
"Bye.” Heather snapped her phone closed and walked back to the parking lot, climbed in the car, hot, tired and irritated. Face it. There was no one for her. Her tombstone would probably read, “She lived alone, died alone."
* * * *
Daniel spent Saturday home doing nothing as he waited for his girlfriend to call him back. He heard Heather leave for her date that morning. It was too bad she was gone because he could have gone over and bugged her. Now he had nothing to do but flip through the channels, eat cold pizza and mull.
Finally after torturing himself for hours, he cracked into his Bible. Something he'd neglected to do lately. Maybe that was his problem. He hadn't even sought the Lord on the biggest decision of his life—taking a spouse. His small group leader was always saying to ask God about everything. That He cared about even the small stuff. For some reason, Daniel couldn't seem to do that. He didn't know why but maybe now it was time to try. Couldn't hurt, and would probably help.
Settling in, he turned to the last chapter of Jeremiah, beginning where he left off last in chapter twenty-five. He read for an hour. When he got to chapter twenty-nine, he sat up straight. Verse eleven resonated with him:
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you."
He'd heard that verse many times before, but never had it hit him like today. God had it all worked out. If Daniel allowed his Savior to take control, he could rest in the idea God would take care of his future. He'd stop worrying.
Daniel checked his watch. Maybe he'd go over there and talk to Claudia in person.
* * * *
Heather went shopping for a few hours in Seaport Village, before deciding to call it quits and go home. Her spirits started to sink into a funk. The more she imagined life by herself forever, the more depressed she got. She pulled out of the parking lot and drove into the intersection in a daze. God, I think you're going to have to hand deliver a guy. I'm done looking.
The light turned green but it took a second for that to register. She started to accelerate, when a car slammed into the back of her. The seat shot forward. Her head slammed against the steering wheel. Adrenaline coursed though her. For a second, she felt dizzy. Slowly, she reached for the door handle.
A man ran to her window. “Are you okay?” his voice muted by the glass.
She stepped out, stunned.
He reached toward her head, but didn't touch her. “Your temple is bleeding."
She placed two fingers against it and winced. Red stained her fingers.
"I'm sorry.” The man cupped his hands behind his head and then ran them over his head and down his face. “With the glaring sun and the light being green, I didn't see you still sitting there."
"It's fine.” She walked around and examined their crunched bumpers, his appeared much worse than hers. “Do you have insurance?"
"Of course.” He ran to his passenger door and ducked inside.
She went to get hers as well.
"Here,” he said.
She faced him.
He held out a napkin.
She wrinkled her brow.
"For your head."
She offered a slight grin and took it from him. “Thank you."
He nodded and then handed her a business card. “This is my personal number, and I wrote my insurance information on the back."
She fingered the card and stuffed it in her back pocket, then sat on the wheel-well and glanced around for a pen in her purse. She couldn't find one and she was starting to feel frustrated. Her head hurt and she couldn't think straight. “I can't find anything to write with."
"I've got one.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pen. “Here."
She stood and took it. “Thank you.” After she wrote down her information, she looked at him for the first time. He had short brown hair slightly bleached on the tips, hazel eyes, tan skin, and a nice smile. Well, if I have to get in an accident, at least he's cute. She smiled to herself.
"Does your head hurt?"
"I'll be all right. Nothing an aspirin won't cure."
"Okay, well...” He stared at her a moment, then walked back to the driver's side of his car. He started to get in then stepped back. “I know this is going to sound nuts, but if you're not heading to the hospital right now, would you like to get a cup of coffee?"
She blinked. “What?"
"I just wondered...” He bit his bottom lip. “I know it's crazy, it's just..."
"I'd love to.” Did I just say that out loud?
He smiled. “Great. You want to follow me? There's a coffee shop right around the corner."
"Yeah, I know it."
"Cool.” He fidgeted a bit, then backed up and got in his car.
Heather laughed and returned to her vehicle. She waited for him to pull around her, and then followed.
This is insane. Wait until I tell Daniel.
* * * *
Daniel knocked on Claudia's door again. One more time and he'd give up. Suddenly, he heard heels clicking behind him and he spun around. She appeared around the corner looking gor
geous in a burgundy dress.
"Claudia."
"Daniel?” She didn't meet his eyes, just moved past him to unlock the door.
"I've been trying to get a hold of you for two days. What's going on?"
She pushed the door open and sighed. “Come on in. We need to talk."
His stomach flipped. He was about to get the answer he dreaded. They'd only been dating a short time. Why was I in such a rush to propose? Maybe because my thirtieth birthday is in a month and I'm still single. But still not a good enough reason. He continued to internally chide himself and then he remembered, not my will, but Yours. I'm not worried. This will be as You planned.
"Have a seat.” She motioned to the living room. “I'll be back in a moment."
He sat on the overstuffed blue couch, resting on the edge of the cushion. Her apartment was decorated in daisies and always smelt like vanilla. Usually, he felt comfortable here; however, today was not one of those times.
She walked back in bare-feet and sat across from him. Her eyes remained on the floor.
"Claudia?"
"I'm sorry, Danny, but I can't marry you."
He swallowed against the bile in his throat. “Please don't do this, Claudia. I'm sorry I rushed you. We can slow down. Forget I ever asked."
Her eyes finally met his. “No, it's not that. I don't think dating another year would help our real problem. It's bigger than that."
His palm stung. He glanced down to where his nails were pressed firmly into his skin. He relaxed and met her stare. “What problems, Claudia? I thought you and I were getting along great."
"I'd been thinking about breaking up with you for some time now. Even before Thanksgiving."
His heart sunk. “Really? So why did you come?"
"When you told me you'd planned a special dinner for me, I thought I'd see that maybe I was wrong. But the night only fermented certain feelings and created a few more.” She sighed. “There are lots of reasons I don't think you and I should get married, but that night, one particular issue became very clear to me."
"What?"
She folded her hands in her lap and said, “I think you offered the ring to the wrong girl."
He wrinkled his forehead, confused. “What are you talking about?"
She licked her lips, her expression sour. “You can deny it if you want to, but you and Heather have chemistry that you and I will never have."
"Don't be ridiculous. I love you. Heather and I are just friends. You and I..."
"I'm moving back to Puerto Rico to marry my ex, Cruz de Luca.” She dropped the engagement ring in front of him on the table.
Daniel frowned. Her ex. Forever a burr in their relationship. “So, this isn't about me and Heather. This about him."
She stared down at her hands, her voice barely audible. “It's about all of it, Daniel. We're not meant to be together. I still have feelings for Cruz; you've always known that. And whether you're honest with yourself or not, you're in love with Heather."
He didn't know what to say. His body felt numb. He slowly rose, scooping the ring up and tucking it in his pocket. “You take care of yourself."
"Don't be mad. I'm saving us from a doomed future.” She took his hand. “Thank you for everything. No matter what, I had fun."
He hugged her, blinking to hide the emotion that was building. “Good-bye.” He turned for the door and left, not stopping to hear her vain effort to remain friends. His heart lay shattered and he just needed to get away before his internal response spilled out.
* * * *
"How's your head?” Steve asked, once they sat down with coffee and a cranberry-orange scone. “It doesn't seem to be bleeding."
"I have a bit of a headache, but it's not too bad.” She held up two white pills, tossed them to the back of her throat, and swallowed them with the aid of a cup of water. “I checked my head in the mirror a second ago. It's just a scratch. I'll be fine."
"I really am sorry."
She shook her head. “Really, don't worry about it."
"Okay. If you say so.” He took a sip of his coffee, the expression in his eyes revealing he still wasn't letting his concern go.
She needed to change the subject. E number one. “So, what do you do to earn a living?"
He smiled. “I'm a pastor at the Faith Community Church."
"Really?” Heather said over the top of a coffee mug. “A pastor, huh?"
"You seem surprised."
She laughed. “I am."
He reached for a cup of creamer. “Why? What do you expect a pastor to look like?"
"No, not that.” She smiled. “It's just you asked me out and you didn't even know if I went to church. That seems a bit odd for a pastor."
"I saw your fish."
"My fish?"
"When you were searching for a pen, I caught sight of your key chain."
She peered at the gold key ring attached to her keys baring the Jesus fish symbol. “Oh."
He grinned.
"So, what kind of a pastor are you?"
"The good kind."
She laughed. “Seriously."
"Actually, I'm a youth pastor with an amazing flock of about seventy teenagers."
She raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you're brave."
"I suppose.” He pointed to the plate in the middle of their table. “May I have the last bite of scone?"
"You're so polite. Yes, please do.” She couldn't believe this. Talk about God literally slamming someone into me.
"And where do you work?"
"The West County Times. I'm in the classified department."
"Do you enjoy it?"
She smiled. “Odd, I know, but yes. It's fun."
He wiped his hands on a napkin and sat forward. “So, I have this theory that if you talk about the weather, you have nothing in common with someone. Can we avoid that subject?"
She laughed. “Good thing I'm not the weather girl at the paper."
"I agree.” He glanced at the counter.
"My mother has the same theory. We're not allowed to talk about weather."
"Good.” He stood, grabbing the empty plate. “Would you mind if I get us another round?"
"How about that yummy looking maple one this time?"
"I'd have to agree.” He jumped up and walked to the counter.
She couldn't believe this was happening. He's not weird, well, yet. Could he actually be a nice guy who isn't married, getting married or carrying baggage? Did such a guy exist? She looked back at him and he smiled.
Of course, she had no idea how old he was. He was youth pastor. Maybe he was younger than he appeared. He didn't really look her age. But maybe he aged well. Though she'd never been a good determiner of things like that.
He walked back and set the scone on the table. “I insist you take the first bite."
"You insist? What if it's poisonous?"
"Good point. Maybe I should go first.” He laughed and reached for a corner with his fork.
"So, I have a funny question."
He raised an eyebrow. “Cool. I'd love a funny question. Hit me."
"As you get older, do you think you'll ever outgrow working with youth?” It was a round about way to ask him his age. Hopefully, he'd take the bait.
"I don't know. I've been a youth pastor for almost seven years now, and I can't imagine working with any other age group. It suits me."
Seven years. Add four for college. He must be around 28. She smiled into her cup.
"And what about you? Will you try to be a journalist someday?"
She shook her head. “Been there, done that. I'm more likely to be a novelist."
"So, you like to write?"
"Yeah, I really do.” She held her coffee cup to her lips and thought of her book. With all the dates she'd been on lately, she should have a tremendous wealth of material.
"What do you write?” He held up a hand. “Or is that too personal of a question?"
She shook her head. “Nah, it's cool. Though you ma
y not like the answer."
He cocked his head to the side. “Horror?"
She laughed. “No. Inspirational Romance."
"Mushy chick stuff."
"Exactly."
He shrugged. “I love it."
She crossed her arms and leaned back. “No way. Name one female author you like."
He prattled off a horde of names.
She raised her eyebrow, surprised. This man was amazing. “And you've read them all?"
"Not all. Some."
Wow. “Who is your favorite author? And don't tell me Jane Austin, because then I'll never believe another word that comes out of your mouth."
"Yeah, okay.” He laughed and then placed his hand to his chin, obviously thinking. “Probably C.S. Lewis."
"Favorite movie?"
"Of all time,” Heather asked.
"Of all time."
She thought about that for a moment. “Empire Strikes Back."
He laughed, almost spitting out his coffee. “No way. You're kidding."
"Yeah.” She giggled. “It's Big Fish, but for the record, I did like four of the Star Wars movies."
"Okay, Big Fish. Not chick or guy movie. Good neutral choice.” He sat up. “We can be friends."
She smiled.
Two hours, four cups of coffee and another round of scones later, she realized she needed to go. He was so easy to talk to that it was like they'd always known each other. She almost hated to end it, but knew she'd better. “Well, it's late and I'd better get going. You probably have to work in the morning and I have church. Which is the same thing.” Heather laughed. “But I had fun. Thank you."
"Me, too."
She pushed up from the plush chair. “I guess we'll be talking through our insurance agents next."
"So my charm didn't sway you."
She laughed. “No, I'm afraid not."
"Fine.” He smiled and walked her out to her car. “Can I call you sometime?"
Her cheeks warmed. “I'd like that."
"Cool.” He waved and stepped to his beat up, gray car. The poor guy's front bumper resembled crumbled tin foil. And he still likes me.
Heather climbed in and turned on the radio. One of her favorite songs played. She cranked it up and sang at the top her lungs, not remembering a time when she'd had more fun.
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