by Hart, Alana
“Tough break, man. But then again, these things are trials to test us.”
Nathan looked at his cell. A message was waiting.
"You need to check the pair sitting over there. I wonder what church they're with?" Nathan mumbled while looking at his phone.
Scott leaned forward to get a better view.
Nathan typed, each button that he pushed seemed immovable and his hand felt as heavy as lead:
Do you think they'll take me on?
"Nate, you going to press your nose to that phone all day, or are you actually going to make a little effort? One of them is a redhead. What’d you say to a redhead, Nate?"
"I'd say that my closest and dearest friend has known me all this time and still doesn't know my preferences. Sorry, no redheads."
"On second thought, forget you, man. You could find a future wife in here, but you’re too busy playing on your phone to care. I'm going for it, man." And with that, Scott left Nathan.
Nathan smiled at his friend's vitality. There were three new messages on his cell, and Nathan felt his body tense before he switched it off. His eyes swept the room and he saw Christian couples engaged in conversation, some nervous, some lively. Many looked carefree and jovial. Mulling over the text, Nathan felt a shadow castes itself over him. How could he find a partner he could trust when he couldn't even trust himself to do what he knew was right? He had to reject Mr. Grady’s offer. The man’s values weren't charitable or Christian in the least.
The offer itself was enough to salivate over. But was it his passion to help people? Plus, Scott dragged him to the Christian singles event because he said Nathan, with his looks, could act as a beacon and have girls sailing over to speak with them.
People often told him he inherited his mother's fine bone structure and had adopted his father's athletic build of broad shoulders and tallness. No one could deny the perfect symmetry of his face, and the movie star looks. Nathan never let how he looked and how people treated him because of his good looks define him; he tried to project his personality through his actions, which were always kind and helpful.
The other side to Nathan's character was his desire to get ahead in life. His father worked mall security for most of his life and always had money worries or stress from the management. When his dad found a security job he was comfortable with, he got laid off. Eventually his dad settled for whatever he could get. After seeing his father feel inadequate about being unable to provide for his family, Nathan vowed to never end up like him.
This meant he never had time for relationships, and barely made it to church on Sundays.
And here he was in a place where he was supposed meet a girl. Nathan sat by the window in a room of fellow Christians, and yet he felt alone. But this feeling only camouflaged a deeper need. The need to connect to someone. He felt it now more than ever. His eyes traveled the room. A jangle of voices. The particular bar served non-alcoholic beverages. Men and women who looked jovial, some in mixed groups as if double dating, some sitting as couples, some secluded in corners alone on their cells. Laughing, back slapping, and chatter permeated the air, bar staff sauntered around causally or wiped counters, wiped tables, and cleared tables.
Then he saw her.
Nathan gasped.
Opening her book to the folded letter inside, Hilda felt it necessary to go into self-preservation mode: eyes on the letter, the words were almost poetic. One look around the room spiked her nerves. She spotted two, maybe three guys looking in her direction. It irritated her to no end because she had so little experience in talking to guys. She regretted that she couldn't be as confident as Melanie. Melanie wasn't the most confident of girls, but she had no problems speaking with guys. Hilda’s insides became a bundle of nerves whenever she had to speak with a guy who had his eye on her. All she could do to alleviate her nerves was to open her book and read the letter. When she was a child, her mother said she was too dependent on the letter, that she lived most of her life on the page.
Hilda decided that once Melanie returned, she’d let her friend know that she wanted to leave. As for right now, the most important thing was to pretend not to notice the looks.
Even though she settled into nonchalance, the wrenching feeling of eyes watching her was enough to distract her from the letter.
Hilda mentally swiped away the tingling sensation of eyes on her. She went back to reading the letter:
You don't fall in love, you rise in love.
Hilda agreed wholeheartedly with the statement written by her father. She felt it must be ridiculous to fall in love, since a fall represents losing yourself.
Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. Hilda looked up. A guy caught her attention. It was the man by the window. He was watching her.
Their eyes locked.
In that instant she knew – she had fallen.
Unable to avert her gaze, each breath stuttered, ebbed, and labored to achieve the rise and fall of her chest. Hilda had never felt this way before.
"Hey, do you mind if I have a seat?" The voice sent a jolt through Hilda, shifting her attention. A tall slim man stood next to her table.
Hilda fiddled with the dog-eared pages of her book for a moment before assenting with a nod.
She wanted to see if the guy by the window was still watching her. Who is he? she wondered. However, not wanting to be rude to the gentleman at her table, she dared not look at the man by the window any longer. Smiling at the man now across from her, she hoped he hadn't noticed her lapse in attention.
The guy spoke in-between nervous mumbles. Hilda felt he was very sweet, if a bit nervous. But she had already been captivated by the eyes of another.
The guy's name was David, and he said he had spotted Hilda the moment she walked into the bar. She blushed as he told her that she was beautiful. Other than this, she didn't know how to react. He spoke mostly about himself and his job.
"So at the moment, I'm just a chef but I don't want to stop there," he said. Hilda listened to him describe how he intended to create his own business, a chain of restaurants, that would eventually free him from the nightmare of having to slave for a boss. He described his family, his student years, and his personal preference when it came to a woman's behavior. Hilda listened with keen interest.
Then he stopped.
David's face took on such an embarrassing look of bewilderment that Hilda creased her forehead in response.
"Eh, I forgot you're name. Ha, ha!" He gave himself a gentle face-palm.
"Oh," said, Hilda, "I didn't say. My name is Hilda.” She smiled.
He smiled and blushed a little, bid her a wonderful afternoon after making note that he'd been speaking to her for over half-an-hour, and then left in a stunned silence.
Hilda sat feeling a pinch of disappointment, though she was unsure why. If only he'd return, she'd apologize for any offense she caused.
He must have come back, Hilda imagined as she felt the presence of someone.
"You're back, I never meant to seem offhanded it's just…." Hilda turned, expecting to see David. But it was him. The guy from earlier.
"So, what's your name?" he asked.
"Hilda,” the word stumbled out of her mouth.
"Hmmm." He sat down as if she were saving him a seat. "Just Hilda?"
"Hilda Borja.” He smiled and looked about to speak, when a high-pitched laugh rang out in the room. Hilda and Nathan both turned towards the source of the disturbance.
Hilda gasped as she saw Melanie folded over, laughing at the man in sunglasses, who had since removed them. She wore a broad grin on her face.
"Your friend seems to be having a good time,” Nathan smiled. Try as she did, Hilda could not ignore his eyes, particularly his long black eyelashes.
"You're friend doesn't seem to be having such a bad time, either,” Hilda gestured with her book to their friends.
"I don't know, it could actually be worse than it seems,” he intoned with a smile.
"What do you mean?" Hi
lda looked back at them.
“I mean his allergic reaction,” Nathan pointed out. "You see, he probably tried to play it off with his oh-so-cool attitude, but your friend probably persuaded him to remove the glasses, discovered his reddened eye and now he has to back peddle and try and charm her by being funny."
"You think?"
"He's too cool to show it, but he's probably sweating buckets. I just hope she finds him funny."
"Wow, but I wouldn't be too concerned. My friend is harmless."
"So why are you here? Something tells me you're not particularly happy to be here,” observed Nathan, his cool eyes studying her.
"It's not that I'm... okay, it did take some convincing to get me here." Hilda looked into his eyes and felt herself unable to look away. They were a swirling dark brown she had never encountered.
"Anyway I want to say I've seen you at a gathering before, but I don't think I would forget someone like you." Nathan said.
"Well, I'm not as activity in my church as I could be." Hilda felt an intense burning in her cheeks that she was powerless against. She followed his gaze, which was pointed to the table, and she suddenly realized she was fiddling with the corners of the pages from her book. Calm down Hilda, try and be cool. She felt like a fourteen year old in the company of an adult. He was so cool and calm, whereas she found herself coming apart at the seams just from being at a table with him.
"Your eyes tell me that you're that there's an artist in you." He gave her a pointed look.
Hilda glanced away only for her eyes to fall on his firm jaw line. She felt herself sweat. Quickly, she dared her gaze to rove to where Melanie and her companion stood to discover them now seated. How did she do it? How was she so comfortable, she wondered, here I sit in front of the most incredibly handsome man I've ever seen, much less spoken to, and I feel stupid?
"I’m majoring in photography, but I’m so not enthused on all of the papers I have to write,” stated Hilda, at the same time she wondered at her rapid dampening palms. She needed to behave more like he did and not be so anxious. "What about me suggested that I was an artist?" she asked.
"I can't say for sure, but something about the way your glance touches on things. Your eyes look alive, as if they would like to transform the world. At the same time, I also noticed you turn inward. You're an introvert, for certain,” Nathan said.
"You've seen all of that in such a short time?" Hilda didn't believe what he said was merely to chat her up; there was something deeper. One single glance from his eyes communicated something to her that she had never seen but sometimes felt in her 18 years.
"How could I not?" he acknowledged.
And how could she not see his eyes.
Nathan watched her smoothing over the rumpled book. He didn't know why he was reacting like this to her. He had other matters to attend to, such as Mr. Grady, and yet again his choices were stumped by his thoughts about his family. They would be concerned if Gerald Grady offered him a place in his firm, and if he accepted. Gerald Grady was a man most believed to be driven by greed. Nathan had a lot on his mind.
He told himself that he shouldn't be here. But an undeniable attraction pulled him to Hilda. And it wasn't just her remarkable hazel eyes and pale delicate skin that caused his heart to beat harder, it was something beyond her beauty. He could not explain why she affected him. It made him both afraid and captivated.
"Excuse me, I just need to head to the restroom." Hilda got up, her face glowing red. Nathan watched her collect her bag. “I won't be long,” she promised.
"No worries,” Nathan's deep voice stated.
He knew she liked him, but she was so nervous and he felt it'd be hard to open her up. She left the table. At least she had left her book, Nathan observed. Maybe his honesty had not caused her to take flight as he first imagined. Otherwise she wouldn't have left her book.
Nathan looked down at the book. Then something caught his eye. He was unsure why he had taken an interest in the paper in between the covers of her book. As if his hand had a mind of its own, as if that mind were merely curious, his hand slightly opened the book. Nathan drew his fingers along the edge to discover the letter. Reading the first few words, held his breath. Nathan replaced it, feeling moved and guilty. He immediately regretted his actions and bit back a curse.
His text tones blared.
Startled, Nathan almost freaked. A message, Nathan, had to remind himself. It said: Mr. Grady wants to meet you this weekend!
He couldn't quite get a handle on the situation. What did Mr. Grady want? He understood that if Mr. Grady took him on in his firm, he'd be making a whole heap of money. Excitement pulsed through him. He'd have everything he'd ever dreamed.
Nathan raised his eyes. Hilda stood at the table.
Their eyes said it all.
“How about I take you someplace away from here?” Nathan whispered, and even with the chatter in the room, she seemed to hear clearly, because her eyes widened.
“Sure,” Hilda replied in a whisper.
He waited with baited breath. With every step his heart scrambled and floundered, but nothing, not a hand on his shoulder, nor the blaring sound of sirens, or the desperate cry of “stop!” Let them look, he thought, as he waltzed out the entrance weary of every passerby’s chance glance or occasional car that drove by. Why would anyone be suspicious? He wondered. He never looked over his shoulder. Let them stare, there is nothing to be worried about.
Hilda walked behind, but despite Nathan's thumping pulse, he didn't want to look back to see if she still followed him. Nathan walked along the street. Weighted on him was the in-wrought sense of emptiness. But it was not over. The rage of chaotic unrest swelled within him. He had with him something more priceless. He hailed a taxi, then furtively he looked around, then looked over his shoulder.
Hilda. She was still behind him. Even though she clutched her bag and looked nervous, nevertheless, she stuck with him. At that point, Hilda was all he needed.
“Get in,” Nathan added. After opening the taxi door, his movements were fueled by adrenaline and excitement.
Once inside the taxi, Hilda turned to him, “Where are we going?” she questioned, in a small, brittle voice.
“I'm going to take you to a real bar,” affirmed Nathan.
It was Hilda's first time at a bar. Even as a student, such places held no interest for her. Hilda received many offers from friends to nights out where they'd go to various bars. Hilda declined all those offers, and eventually her friends understood that it was because of her faith as a Christian. She chose to resist any circumstance where she might be exposing herself to getting drunk. Or better yet, any sort of carnal temptation. So why Hilda found herself in such a place now baffled her. And with a mysterious guy.
To make matters worse, she'd lied to Melanie about her whereabouts. Nathan also lied to his friend Scott.
Hilda didn't mind or react to the occasionally ladybug-like fluttering in her stomach. She sat in the bar, and stared out the window. While Nathan was in the bathroom.
She had seen him reading her father's letter earlier. What held her back from confronting him about looking at something so private? Why hadn't she stopped him? Why wasn’t she even mad at him? These were the thoughts that swam through her mind as she sat, waiting for Nathan to return from the restroom.
Hilda, as a general rule, tried to hide her emotions. But now she seemed unable to contain herself. What they were doing seemed so exciting. It seemed so far beyond the safe little Hilda, the good girl Christian. She kept peering at the entrance to the bar, where she expected Melanie or her mother or anyone who might recognize her to walk in.
When they left the bar earlier, she hoped Melanie hadn't seen her. The whole ordeal had an uncanny feel to it, as if any moment she might emerge from this dream of a wild time with a gorgeous man to only half-recall -- or half-forget – what happened. This whole experience was startling and unexpected.
Hilda knew she shouldn’t be there; her conscience
told her to leave a message for Nathan with the bartender and then leave. Plus, lying to Melanie for a guy she just met? She could not believe what she had done. She didn't feel herself. It excited and troubled her.
Earlier, she returned to Melanie and her companion, whose name was Scott, and told them she was not feeling well. This was her first time lying to Melanie ever. Hilda, at once, stunned by her impromptu lie, could only listen to herself. And even in her stunned state, Hilda managed to maintain the ruse.
And despite the fact that Melanie appeared to be having a wonderful time with Scott, she looked really concerned once Hilda said she was feeling unwell. Hilda had to plead for Melanie to stay and have a good time and to convince her friend that she could get back home alone. Melanie's concern and innocence left Hilda weighed down with guilt.
When the sharp sound of her cell rang in her bag, Hilda hesitated to check it. Hilda’s fears were realized as she saw the number. Melanie. She was probably calling to check it she were okay. Hilda looked to the far end of the bar toward the men’s restroom, hoping Nathan would appear.
“Hi Mel,” said Hilda, answering the phone.
Nathan leaned on the restroom sink. He'd been about to call Mr. Grady with his answer to the proposal, when his mother called. He had groaned before he took call. Now he glanced at his watched as his mother spoke on.
“…and I told the young man to turn off his iPod and listen to me,” mother said, put on her strict teacher voice she used on her third graders. She was engrossed in the telling of what happened to her that day. It was as if she were trying to act out the scene for Nathan over the phone. Or so Nathan imagined.
Nathan frowned at to the mirror.
"Treasures gained by wickedness do not profit, I said to him. I never shouted. But you should have seen him, I sure put the fear of the Lord in that boy,” she chuckled.
