by Lacey Black
“I don’t think we’ve met,” Mr. Donaldson says as he joins us at the table.
“No sir, I don’t believe we have officially, though I went to school here,” Rueben says, shaking the extended hand in front of him.
“You did? I’m happy to hear that. And I take it you know our keynote speaker today,” he says with a smile.
“I do. I’m Rueben Rigsby, and Cricket is my girlfriend,” he says confidently, and it’s the first time I really feel the words spread warmly through my blood. Before, they were a lie, a teeny tiny white lie, but now, they’re a declaration, a truth.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Rueben. We’re very excited to hear what Cricket has to say today,” he says, taking a quick moment to introduce Rueben to the others at the table.
When the pleasantries are done, Rueben heads back to his table to await his turn to get food. I take a seat and nibble at the food on my plate, my stomach a little better now that he came to wish me luck once more.
“So, Cricket, anymore thought to the offer in LA?” Danny asks, picking up a piece of bacon and shoving the entire thing in his mouth.
“Actually, yes,” I answer and take a bite of pineapple.
“Well?”
“Well, what? You think I’m going to tell you whether or not I’m accepting the offer?”
“Well…yes!”
“Sorry, Danny, but that’s not going to happen. I’ll call George myself and tell him.” George being the general manager who offered me the job.
I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look his way. Instead, I focus on my food and trying to get it down my tight throat. I spy Rueben’s table getting up and heading toward the food, his eyes on me nearly the entire time. He looks concerned, as if he wishes he were up front with me, holding my hand, and reassuring me everything is going to be great. He offers me silent support so strong, I can feel it from across the room. There’s also something else in his eyes that gives me pause.
Appreciation.
Respect.
Gratitude.
All things I’ve never really associated with past relationships.
But is this a real relationship?
Yes.
I feel that deep in my bones too. Even if there’s an end looming in the background, I feel so much more with Rueben than I’ve felt in a long time. If ever. There was no way to stop it. It blindsided me like a linebacker rushing the quarterback. It caught me completely off guard and knocked me on my ass. Rueben knocked me on my ass.
But the crazy part of it all is that I like it.
I like Rueben, maybe even like him a lot.
I like the way he makes me feel.
It’s all I think about as they collect our plates and the speeches begin. It’s not Danny’s words about being the best and rising to the top that have my attention, it’s the man sitting at a table toward the back, absently pushing his glasses up on his nose. His eyes are on me, the slightest of smiles teasing his full lips. Lips that I’ve felt everywhere and am already wondering when I can feel them again.
“Thank you so much, Daniel Ohara. And now, I welcome Miss Cricket Hill to the podium.”
There’s a round of applause as I stand and glance to the front. My tablet is sitting on the table, but I don’t reach for it. Suddenly, all of those words I spent hours, days even, pouring over don’t seem right. They aren’t the message I want to send today. So, I leave the device at my seat and walk confidently to the podium, even though my heart is racing and my palms are sweaty.
“Good morning,” I say, adjusting the microphone to accommodate my height. I glance around the room, at the hundreds of eyes all focused on me. My old friends are smiling proudly, waiting for me to begin. Danny is off to my left, checking his phone before glancing back up at me expectantly. And then there’s Rueben. He’s sitting up tall in his seat, his hands in his lap as he waits for me to begin. He gives me a smile, one that calms my nerves and sends the message that he’s here, for me and with me.
As my friend…and as my boyfriend.
Life’s too short to be anything but happy.
Clearing my throat, I open my mouth and speak. “I’m honored to have been asked to speak to you all today, as an alumnus of Southern Illinois University.”
Deep breath. “When I graduated college, I was afraid. Things in my life hadn’t happened the way I had always envisioned them. Everything I had expected, had known, changed, and I was left reeling and trying to figure out what was next.
“My plan was California. I had an entry position at a small television station and was set to begin my career the next week. Over the course of the next few years, I put in the time and dedication, and moved up the ladder. I loved my job. Then, one day, it changed. I was…” My eyes close for a second as I try to slow my racing heart.
I look over at Danny, at his cocky smirk, the message he’s sending is that his speech was better, his job is better. Then I look out at the crowd, to Rueben. He gives me the slightest nod, encouraging me to continue, to speak from the heart.
“Jobs change. Careers change. Life happens. Just like my life changed after college graduation. I was in a new city, a new state, and didn’t know a soul. My family was supportive of my dream, and while they may have tried to convince me to find something closer, they never stopped believing in me. And while support of your family and friends is important, believing in yourself is key.
“A friend once said life’s too short to be anything but happy. So that’s the message I want to give you today. We go through life doing what we think we should do, instead of what we maybe need to. Do what makes you happy. Maybe it’s going back to school or changing companies. Possibly it’s a completely different career path altogether. Staying home with your children, so you don’t miss any of those important milestones. Going for that promotion you may not think you’ll get, but know you deserve. Or what if it’s picking up your computer and writing that great American novel you’ve always wanted to write. Whatever your happiness is, do it. Follow your heart. Choose happiness… Because life’s too short to be anything but happy.
“Thank you.”
I take a deep breath and take a step back. Before my feet are firmly planted, the room erupts in a round of applause. Rueben stands, his hands clapping together and the biggest smile on his handsome face. I give him my own smile as a sense of relief and accomplishment wash over me.
I did it.
And my message was clear.
Now, do I follow my own words and change the course of my life or do I stick it out and keep my eyes open for my happiness?
Chapter Fourteen
Rueben
I knock on the door. Family Feud is blasting into the hallway, and I smile. At least I know my grandma’s awake. She loves to watch “The Feud” while Grandpa takes his afternoon nap, which I always found odd, considering her need to blast the volume so she can hear it. How he can sleep through that noise has always baffled me.
The door opens and her aging face breaks out into a huge smile. “Ruby!” my grandma exclaims as she pulls me into a hug. Cricket snickers as I wrap my arms around Grandma and breathe in that familiar scent of Avon perfume and oatmeal.
“Hi, Grandma,” I reply, her head hitting mid-chest as she squeezes me tightly.
“It’s about time you came to see us. Your grandpa is napping, but will be so excited when he wakes up,” she says, opening the door wide for us to enter. “Oh my, who is this pretty lady?”
“Grandma, this is my friend, Cricket. I don’t know if you remember her from when I was in college. She came with me for a weekend visit one time,” I say, entering their small one-bedroom apartment in the assisted living facility.
“Of course, I remember her! Cricket, you are even more beautiful than you were back then. What happened to the other boy? The pretty one who was always looking at himself in the mirror?”
My eyes meet Cricket’s and we both smile. “Uh, Danny isn’t here. They broke up after college,” I tell her.
“Please, please, have a seat. I’ll go turn the television down,” she says as she shuffles into the living room area and grabs the remote. Grandpa is sleeping in the recliner, his feet extended out and his arms crossed over his chest. His glasses sit lopsided on his nose and his mouth is open wide enough to catch flies. I can’t help but smile.
“There, that’s better,” Grandma says as she rejoins us in the kitchenette area. There’s a small round kitchen table, just big enough for four chairs. “Now, what were we talking about? Oh, yes, that boy. Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re not with him. He was always a nice one, but a tad on the vain side. How my Ruby ended up with him as a roommate and a friend is beyond me,” Grandma says, shaking her head.
“Come on, Grandma, he wasn’t that bad.”
“Hmpf,” Grandma replies, waving her hand. “You definitely had done worse,” she says to me, referring to my roommate situation from freshman year. Larry was a little…weird, and insisted on keeping his pet iguana in our room, despite the no-pets policy in the dorm. It may have been different if Spock (the iguana) was in an aquarium, but he rarely was. Larry kept him in his bed.
And sometimes, in my bed.
“Cricket and I just left our alumni reunion,” I volunteer, intentionally being evasive. The last thing I need is for Grandma to be constantly asking about Cricket, long after she’s returned home to California. It’s going to be hard enough without her bringing it up every time we talk.
“Oh, that’s right. Your mother mentioned it. I’m so glad you were able to take a little bit to visit,” she says, reaching out and patting my hand.
“Of course. I wish I could stay longer, but we’re only here for a few hours. But I promised Mom I was coming up with her at Thanksgiving again. I think Royce is coming too.”
“That’s perfect! We’ll go out for dinner. This place cooks decent food, but not for Thanksgiving. I’ll make reservations at the diner on Bowman Avenue.”
“Sounds perfect, Grandma,” I tell her happily. I’m truly glad I stopped by for a visit. I wish they’d move to Gatlinburg with us, but Grandma and Grandpa say this is their home and they’re not ready to leave.
“So, tell me what you’ve been doing, Cricket,” Grandma insists, turning and facing the woman beside me. They start discussing California, and Cricket tells her all about her job. She makes it sound exciting, but I know the truth. I know she’s not happy being on-air, in front of the camera. I just hope she’ll listen to her own words from her speech and find her happy.
The moment she didn’t take the tablet up to the podium, I knew something had changed. After listening to Danny drone on for ten minutes about how awesome he is, it was refreshing to hear her speak about happiness, rather than herself. Her speech was much shorter in length but carried a message the other keynote speakers did not.
Passion.
Happiness.
And I was so damn proud of her for speaking the truth.
“Is that my grandson?” I turn and find Grandpa slowly getting up out of his recliner. I jump up and head over to offer help, but he waves me off. “I may be old, but I’m not that old,” he teases, standing up and stretching his back. “’Bout time you stopped by for a visit.”
“Sorry, Grandpa. I won’t let it go that long between visits again.”
“Good,” he says, nodding. “Who’s that pretty lady? She single?” he asks, nudging me with his elbow.
I snort a laugh and glance over my shoulder at Cricket. Yeah, she’s definitely pretty, but single? How do I answer that? “It’s…complicated.” Seems like a canned answer, but it’s all I’ve got right now.
Grandpa seems to notice the turmoil and indecision in my eyes. He studies them, acknowledges it, and then does what he always does. “I was just going to run down to the dining hall for some coffee. Care to join me?”
I smile and nod. Grandpa is offering an olive branch, taking me away so we can talk without Grandma’s ears. It’s not that I don’t appreciate or want my grandma to know my troubles, but it has always been her husband that I talk to about the hard stuff. Especially after Dad died.
“We’re going to run down and grab a cup of coffee,” Grandpa says as he shuffles into the tiny kitchenette.
My eyes meet Cricket’s. Hers dance with humor and ease as she sits with my grandma, eating vanilla wafer cookies and drinking tea. She knows of my plan to talk to my grandpa about the job situation, which is why she doesn’t get worked up that I’m leaving her alone for a bit with my grandma.
“I’ll be back in just a bit,” I tell her, leaning down and catching a whiff of her fruity shampoo. I almost kiss her goodbye, but at the last minute, I stop myself. My grandparents are watching, taking in our interaction, with broad smiles on their faces.
I give her an awkward pat on the shoulder and step back, hating the flash of disappointment I see in her eyes. It’s gone a split second later, but it was there. She wanted me to kiss her, expected it even, but I’m torn on what to do. We don’t have to fake a relationship anymore. No one’s here. We’ve decided to spend the week together, but does that mean we’re including PDA in our relationship? What is our relationship?
Hell if I know.
Winking, I head to the door and wait for my grandpa as he kisses his wife goodbye. Then, we exit their apartment and head silently down the hall. As we make our way to the upstairs sitting room, we pass a woman wearing a bright red top and floral pants. Her hair is curled and her lips are stained a dark shade of burgundy. She gives us a friendly smile and greets Grandpa. He nods and offers a quiet hello, but neither stop to visit.
“That’s Mrs. Donnelly. Her husband passed last year and now she’s sleeping with ol’ Elmer Fudd down the hall,” Grandpa says quietly as we approach the sitting room.
I glance back just as the older woman knocks on a door. An elderly man opens it, grabs her hand, and pulls her gently into his apartment. Shaking my head, I turn back to the old man at my side. “Well, you know, everyone needs love,” I tell him as we approach the coffee pot.
“That’s true, boy. Very true. They think they’re being all sneaky about it, but everyone knows. It’s all our dinner table talked about this past week,” he says, taking two mugs from the rack and pouring in the black coffee. “They usually keep this pretty fresh,” he adds, his shaky hand offering me the first cup.
“Thanks,” I tell him as I glance around and decide to take a seat at one of the small tables overlooking the courtyard in back.
Grandpa joins me after stirring in a scoop of sugar. “So, tell me what’s up,” he says as he takes the seat beside me, absently spinning the small stick in his cup.
Taking a deep breath, I spill. “I was offered a job yesterday. A good one.”
“That’s a good thing, though, right?” he asks, his eyes on me the whole time.
I nod my confirmation. “It is. I’m not sure what to do,” I confess, knowing that I’m not just talking about the job offer. “I like my current position. I wasn’t looking for something new,” I tell him, taking a small sip of my coffee. “I was approached at our reunion by one of my former classmates and he asked for a meeting.”
I go on to tell him about what I would be doing, without getting too much into it and revealing information I’m not allowed to. Grandpa listens intently, stirring his coffee between taking sips, and nods on occasion. He never interrupts, just lets me spill everything without reservation.
“So, you have two choices, Rueben. You stay were you are. You make decent money and have a lot of freedom to work wherever you want. There’s a lot of security in staying put. Or you take this job with the government. You’re working for a bunch of assholes who get off on hearing themselves speak. Not to mention, we’re not the most financially stable country. Last I heard we were how many trillion in debt?”
“Yeah, then there’s that,” I concede.
Grandpa’s silent for a minute, and I’m not really sure what to say. Do I want the job? Yeah, I think I do. But it’s sca
ry to step away from your security and stability, to take the chance on the unknown. That step into the dark and trusting the ledge to be where you need it. That the move you’re making is a lateral one and not filled with regret.
“It would be a challenge, wouldn’t it.” It’s not a question.
“Definitely.”
“And you’d enjoy the hell out of putting those pieces together on that inter-web thingy, right?”
“Yeah.”
Grandpa just gazes across the table, giving me a knowing smile. “Follow your heart.”
I nod in reply, because I already know which way my heart is leaning. The nerves are undeniable, but it’s something I have to do. It’s something I want to do. A risk I need to take. “Follow my heart,” I mimic, returning his grin.
He reaches over and pats my hand. We’re both silent as we drink our coffee, glancing up occasionally to see the action on Walker, Texas Ranger on the television. I’m thinking about the offer Dylan’s boss made, which is definitely generous, but that’s not the reason I’m about to accept it. I want the challenge, the thrill of doing a job that’s going to be hard, yet rewarding.
And I can’t wait to tell Cricket about my decision.
“So,” Grandpa says, pushing his cup to the center of the table and leveling his gaze directly on me. “Tell me about this girl.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cricket
“I really liked them,” I tell Rueben as we make our way north from Marion to Decatur.
“They really liked you too,” he says, glancing over and giving me a quick grin before returning his eyes to the road.
“Your grandma is a hoot.”
He snorts.
Glancing out the window, I say, “I lost count of how many times she called you Ruby.”
Rueben groans. “Of course you’d pick up on that.”
“Kinda hard not to when she said it no less than fifteen times, Ruby,” I tease, grinning from ear to ear.
