The other woman saw me first as I moved towards them. She cleared her throat, and Ivy turned to look at me.
My hand tightened on the back of my neck, and I shifted awkwardly. “Hey, Ivy. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Her eyes widened, and she swallowed hard. She opened her mouth to say something but then closed it.
I rubbed my hands against my pants. “This won’t take long.”
My heart pounded at being this close to her. I’d missed her sorely. She smelled of strawberries, most likely the organic shampoo she liked to make.
She closed her eyes as if gathering courage. When she opened them, she appeared resolute, lips tight, expression almost blank. “I don’t have time for this. I’m busy.”
I glanced at her and the friend. “Ivy, please, just give me a minute of your time. It won’t take long. There’s something I need to say.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “You made your position loud and clear when you had Mr. Jeffries send me away. There’s nothing you can say now that will make it better.”
Before I had a chance to say another word, she flew out the door towards the parking lot. I moved to go after her when someone grabbed my arm. Turning, I saw it was Sammie. We’d never met, but Ivy sat with her every Sunday and had mentioned her plenty of times.
“Let her go.”
I wanted to jerk free but didn’t want to be rough with her, so I pulled away gently. “I need to apologize.”
She shook her head. “She’s not ready for that.”
I swung my head back in the direction of the parking lot and saw Ivy driving away. My stomach dropped, along with the last bit of hope I had left.
Chapter 31
Ivy
When Sawyer walked up to me after church, I’d panicked. In fact, my entire body went haywire, and I feared I’d cry if I stayed and listened. I refused to let him see me like that. Refused to be weak, people-pleasing Ivy. So, I’d fled.
Now I couldn’t stop wondering what he’d wanted to say. Was it an apology? An excuse? Either way, I had to forget about him and move on.
When I got home from church, I sat on the couch and turned the ringer for my phone back on. I always kept it on silent during church so it didn’t go off during the service.
I had a missed call and ten text messages from Austin. He barely had time for me while we dated, and now he wanted me to snap to attention. I typed out a quick text.
Me: Please stop contacting me. I’m not interested.
His response came within a few seconds.
Austin: Is this about your pride? It is, isn’t it? You’re upset I chose Tina over you. You need to get over that.
Me: You have some nerve telling me that after what you did.
Austin: You can get over it if you just try.
Me: Not possible.
Austin: Now you’re being stubborn. We had a good thing.
Me: No, you had a good thing.
Austin: You don’t mean that. We made a great couple. Everyone said so.
Me: You always tried to change me, never accepted me as I am.
Austin: Don’t throw that in my face. I wanted you to be the best version of yourself.
Right. He wanted a trophy girlfriend, and I didn’t fit the image.
Me: By making me feel insecure about my weight? I won’t tolerate that again.
Austin: You need someone like me to help you.
Me: Not anymore. Please stop calling and texting.
Austin: You’re making a big mistake. You’ll never find anyone as good as me.
I laughed. That ridiculous statement brought a measure of entertainment. At one time I wouldn’t have found it funny, but moving to Alabama had put the relationship with Austin into perspective.
Me: God bless you, Austin. I wish you the best and I forgive you for what happened in the past. This is goodbye.
It was always better to take the high road.
He didn’t respond after that.
I sunk into the couch and thought about all that had happened since my breakup with Austin. For the longest time I had warped thinking. I used to believe the problem was with me, that I wasn’t good enough. The real issue was Austin couldn’t be trusted and his character flaw had nothing to do with me. It had taken a while, but I’d finally grown enough to see the situation for what it was.
Sawyer once told me to stop doubting myself, to have confidence in who God made me to be. I was still upset with Sawyer, but he couldn’t be more right on that issue, even though he struggled with following his own advice.
Funny thing, my feelings for Austin dissipated like leaves in the wind. Sawyer had been the cure for that. But would I ever find a cure for Sawyer?
The next few days, I stayed busy with work and school. Sawyer began calling, and I rolled him into voicemail each time. He left two messages. Said he was sorry and wanted to talk.
Seeing him on Sunday had reopened my wound and now it festered and swelled and hurt like crazy. A part of me wanted to return his calls, but I was still angry and didn’t trust myself to be civil. The sooner I let go, the better. Talking to him would be taking three steps backward. And what if he told me he was with Madison? I didn't want to know.
Sammie and Sky were a huge support and the three of us hung out a lot, but at times, the two of them would exchange concerned glances. I wanted so badly to move on. Apparently, time healed all wounds. That was the best I could hope for.
A few days later, while Sammie and I ate pizza at our kitchen table, she reminded me that I still owed her two blind dates.
“I know the perfect guy to set you up with.”
“I just can’t, Sammie.”
“It might help you get over Sawyer. You know what they say.”
“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me.”
She smirked. “The best way to get over one guy is to fall for a new one.”
“I tried that with Austin and look where it got me.”
“You just haven’t found the right guy. Don’t give up, Ivy.”
“Romantic love isn’t the answer to everyone’s problems. Maybe I need to stop focusing on relationships and grow more secure with who God wants me to be.”
“If you don’t want me to set you up, I’ll respect that. But I think you’re over thinking this. It’s just one date.”
I shrugged, feeling no enthusiasm whatsoever. “Fine. Set me up. It might help.” I didn’t believe it, but she was right. It was only one date.
***
A few days later, as I dressed for the date, I realized I was completely calm. In fact, I wasn’t nervous at all. No butterflies, no pounding heart. Nothing. My heart had already broken to pieces and there was nothing left to bruise. Perhaps that was a good thing. At least I’d built up a tougher skin.
Sammie had taken care of all the arrangements. She’d known William for a while. They met last year at one of the Christian campus organizations, and she’d confided that William had been one of her “projects.” In full disclosure, she’d told me he was a bit shy, but once he felt comfortable, you couldn’t shut him up. Apparently, he used to look like a mountain man before she did a makeover on him—shaved his beard and had someone cut his hair.
She dabbed red lip gloss on my lips when there was a knock. We exchanged glances, and then I answered the door.
I did a double take.
She hadn’t done this guy justice in her description. He was way more than I expected: tall with broad shoulders and short sandy blond hair. Warm hazel eyes seemed to smile as he held a tiny bouquet of five pink Gerber daisies with a white ribbon holding them together.
“You must be Ivy,” he said with a southern accent. He thrust the daisies into my hands. “These are for you.”
“Thank you, William. Gerber daises are one of my favorites. How did you know?”
He glanced at Sammie, who was standing behind me in the doorway.
I smiled. “Of course. Sammie told you.”
He nodded, and I not
iced he had one of those dimples on his chin. I loved those chin clefts; they made an already attractive man even more handsome.
“Shall we go?” he asked, holding his arm out like an old-fashioned gentleman. I linked my arm in his and handed the flowers to Sammie who put them in a vase.
She smiled, though the lines on her forehead betrayed her worry. I knew she wanted everything to go well.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we walked up to a black Wrangler Jeep. “Sammie wouldn’t tell me.”
“There’s this place down the road with home-cooked food.”
“Sounds delicious.”
William opened the car door for me and I slid into the passenger seat. He put on a country music station and both of us were quiet. The drive to the restaurant was a little uncomfortable with neither of us knowing what to say. I breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled into a driveway with a huge sign: Faye’s Home Cookin’.
The driveway led to a long dirt road with a charming restaurant in the distance, appearing like it used to be someone’s house. William parked, and my stomach dipped as I took in the place. It had a southern grace that reminded me of Sawyer’s house. I let out a breath, the ache twisting deep in my gut.
I must have had a frown on my face because William cleared his throat and glanced at me, lips tight. “Is everything okay? Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No, this is great.” I put on a bright smile. “More than great.” I took in my surroundings. The parking lot was packed. “Must be a popular place.”
William nodded. I started to get out of the car when he reached over and tapped me on the arm. “Hold on a moment.” He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for me.
Nice. A gentleman.
A group of college guys sauntered by about the same time William offered his arm, in a formal manner that made it obvious to everyone we were on a first date. We both appeared stiff as we walked together to the entrance, and I winced when the guys snickered. We looked ridiculous—like an old couple coming from a square dance.
Once we sat down, the waiter handed each of us a menu, spouting off the specials of the day and then hurrying off to the kitchen. I studied the menu longer than necessary. I hated the awkwardness of first dates and not knowing what to say, wondering what questions I should ask.
William broke the ice. “I don’t go on too many dates.”
I smiled. “Me, either.”
“Well, actually, this is only the second date I’ve ever been on,” he said.
“Really?” How was that possible? Someone as good-looking as him?
“Do you mind if I ask why?”
“I guess you could say I’m shy,” he said sheepishly. “Always have been.”
“I can be a little shy myself at times.”
That’s about as much as we said until the waiter finally came to take our order. After he left, William winked at me and took a sip of water. It wasn’t the kind of wink that made your insides go weak. More like the kind that set you at ease as if you were with a big brother who was going to take good care of you. I sat with my hands in my lap, glancing around the room.
Pink-flowered wallpaper covered the walls, giving the room an antiquated vibe. A family with three children dined to our left and a young couple sat on our right. They held hands across the table, appearing very much in love.
William cleared his throat. “My dad always says, ‘When you have nothing to say, tell a good joke.’”
I leaned forward, putting my hands under my chin and elbows on the table. “I’d love to hear a joke.”
He spread his arms out on the table and shot me a lopsided grin. “How do you make a tissue dance?”
I shrugged. “No idea. You tell me.”
“You put a little boogie in it.”
Despite myself, I burst out laughing. The way he pronounced, boogie with his southern accent was too cute. Granted, it was the corniest joke I’d ever heard. But sweet. Like something a kid would share. “I’ll have to remember that one. My dad has the same kind of humor.”
“What does your dad do?”
“He’s a greeter at a large convenience store.” I waited for his response. Most people appeared shocked or amused when they found out what my dad did for a living.
Instead of looking surprised, he seemed pleased. “Is it anything like Walmart? Cause I love Walmart. They have everything you could possibly need.”
“It is a lot like Walmart, but on a smaller scale.”
The next few minutes he told me about the camping gear he recently purchased at Walmart and the Khaki pants he found on sale. By the time the waiter brought our meals, I’d relaxed.
William prayed over our meal, and I was surprised when his prayer lasted longer than expected. For a man of few words, he sure had a lot to say to God. I liked that. It showed his depth of character.
I took a bite of my steaming hot pot pie and savored the flaky crust and creamy chicken filling. “So how did you and Sammie meet?”
William lit up at the mention of Sammie. I watched in fascination as he cut his chicken fried steak into tiny little pieces.
“We met at Campus Revival, a group that meets at the university. I was sitting alone like I normally do. Sammie took pity on me and struck up a conversation.” He smiled and forked a piece of steak. “She’s a talker, that girl.”
“Yes, she is. Between me and her, Sammie’s the more outgoing one.”
“She made me her pet project.” He glanced at the ceiling with a smile on his face as if picturing something. “I went along with it just to be around her. She’s a lot of fun.”
Interesting. Did I detect a crush on Sammie? “I agree. We’ve been best friends since we were kids.”
He nodded. “That’s what she told me. When she asked if I’d be willing to go on a date with her best friend, I said, ‘Sure, why not? If she’s anything like you, she’s got to be great.’” He grinned and lifted a forkful of mashed potatoes to his mouth.
I laughed. This guy was sweet. I relaxed, feeling more comfortable around him. I didn’t have the same butterflies I had with Sawyer, but that was okay. Maybe I didn’t need the warm fuzzies. Maybe that was the trick to avoiding the sting of a broken heart.
We talked about our classes at school. William told me about a camping trip he planned on taking in the summer. By the time dinner was over, I felt like I’d made a real friend.
As we walked to his jeep, he put an arm around my shoulders, and we both laughed when he told me another corny joke. He opened the passenger door for me, and I slipped into his jeep. As we drove back to my apartment, William glanced at me sidelong. “You’re a nice girl, Ivy. Thank you for going out with me tonight.” He stopped at the red light.
“I had a good time.” I’d go on a second date with him if he asked. And if he didn’t ask, I’d be all right with that, too. There hadn’t been the same kind of spark I had with Sawyer, but at least I’d given it a try. The light changed to green and William stepped on the gas. I turned to him. “Hey, I’d like to see a picture of you before Sammie did your makeover.”
Before he responded, the sound of screeching tires and metal slamming against metal on my side of the jeep took my breath away. The smell of burnt rubber was so strong it burned my eyes. We tumbled over and the sound of the car hitting the asphalt boomed in my ears.
Moments passed, and a siren blared in the distance. Footsteps pounded nearby. People shouted. My vision blurred, and I fought to remain conscious.
Chapter 32
Ivy
I sat on the edge of the bed in a blue hospital gown that tied in the back. It didn’t fully cover me, making me vulnerable and exposed. Frankly, I’d had enough of those feelings, lately.
A metal cart had been placed near the door with cotton swabs and a few silver-colored utensils I didn’t recognize. I held back the gag forming in my throat from the smell of rubbing alcohol or some other antiseptic.
By God’s grace, the accident hadn’t been
as bad as it could have been. An ambulance brought William and me to the E.R., and, thankfully, neither of us had life-threatening injuries. I had a few bruises on my face from when the airbag deployed. William had a broken arm. His jeep had been totaled, but we were both okay.
There was a knock, and the door opened. Dr. Billings walked in wearing a long white jacket. “Your tests all check out.” He hesitated. “You should thank your lucky stars.” His gaze softened. “Most people don’t get to walk away from an accident like that.”
I swallowed. “I’m aware and still trying to process what happened. But I know one thing for sure: God protected us.”
A police officer had taken my statement earlier. Apparently, the driver of the other vehicle went through a red light. His car had slammed into the backseat passenger side, missing me by inches. After being checked out at the hospital, he'd been arrested and booked for driving under the influence.
The doctor nodded. “The nurse will be in with a printout of your visit, and then you’re free to go.”
“Thank you, Dr. Billings.”
My nurse, Sarah, entered the room a moment later. She was petite with salt and pepper hair pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a cheery expression. “You’ll be going home soon. Is there anyone who can drive you?”
“My friend, Sammie, will pick me up, but I don’t have my phone to call her. I haven’t seen my belongings since I’ve been here.”
“They collected your purse when they brought you in. It’s at the nurses’ station. Let me check.” She hesitated in the doorway. “Your name sounds so familiar, but I’m sure I’d remember if we’d met before. You have the prettiest green eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “No, we've never met.” I eyed her name tag attached to her blue scrubs. Jeffries. “By any chance are you related to Hayden Jeffries?”
“He’s my husband.”
I gaped. What were the odds? “I . . . used to work for Sawyer Drake. Your husband set up my interview.”
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