16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter sixteen
S he needs space? What does that even mean? How am I supposed to be settled with such an obtuse statement? I blink and stare at my phone, willing it to rewind and start over again. Surely, she must be mistaken. She didn’t mean to tell me that she needs space, right? The only thing I can think to do is call Jackson and see if something went sideways and I’m the last to know.
After a few rings, he picks up. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Not much, but is there some reason why Whits would tell me she needs space and not to bother her, then hang up on me?”
“What? No, not that I know of. She’s excited about the new job, and as far as I know, she was going to the coffeehouse near her place to get the paperwork done today.”
“Something is definitely off with her. We had a lunch date, and I called her to see if she could meet me at Brokedown. Things went down from there, but I don’t know why.”
“Weird. I’ll give her a call,” he says.
“I just parked at Brokedown, but keep me posted if you figure it out.”
“Hopefully it’s nothing, but yeah, I’ll keep you updated.”
“Right, thanks man.” I hang up and push my door open. Having to ride in my cage of a car all day has not been fun, but the rain has been relentless since last night. On and off storms and bad drivers do not make for the best bike riding experience. With nothing better to do on my day off, I decided to hang out at home until lunch, then figured I’d see if she wanted to catch a movie or something. Now, I’m not sure what’s going on.
Inside, the tavern is practically empty. It’s still early for lunch, which is why there is a group of older gentleman arguing by the main, streetside window. The men are as much a fixture in the place as the hockey players and fried food, adding a little bit of charm you don’t find anywhere else. Today, they’re arguing about golf. It’s not my thing, so I head straight to the bar to order my usual roast chicken and mashed potatoes.
Once my order is placed, I zone out watching the television. I’m interrupted by my phone ringing and Whits’ name is on full display. “Thank goodness,” I breathe and answer. “Hey, are you—”
“Do you think you and Jackson could stop going behind my back and talking about me? I’m a grown woman and I don’t need you both hounding me constantly.”
Wow. Okay, fair enough, but wow.
“Whits, I was worried. That’s all. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Well, you did. I said I needed space, not for you to go tell Jackson something is wrong. He’s sent his wife to check on me like I’m a child.”
“I’m sorry, Whits. I don’t know what else you want me to say. One minute you were supposed to spend some time with me today, and the next you dropped out on me with no real reason.” I’m about to add that the idea of her going through a rough patch again scares me, that I don’t want her to do it alone, and I’m always going to be there for her. But she has to know that by now. Which means she doesn’t care or doesn’t want me in that position any longer. It’s a big turnaround from the way things have been the past couple of weeks.
“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to honor my request, give me some space to think, and I’ll call you when I’m ready, okay?” Her tone begins firm but ends with a waver that I know means she’s keeping something from me, something she doesn’t want to say because it will break her argument into nothing.
Instead of calling her out and furthering her anger, I relent. I’ll give her space. “Yes. I understand.” It’s all I can muster before she hangs up. I groan and drop my phone onto the bar, rub my hands over my face, and pray for patience.
“Trouble in love?”
I’m startled by Ivan, one of the older men. He’s a short and stout fellow who loves to taunt the hockey players, which is quite a sight to see. I’ve been told he dishes out advice as well as he hands out insults. Since it seems he’s taken some interest in my predicament, I’m willing to let him analyze the situation if only to help me hold on to my last bit of sanity.
“I guess you could say that.”
He points to the barstool beside me and I nod. It toddles a little when he climbs on it and adjusts his suspenders. “Tell me your tale of woe.”
“Short story, I’m a firefighter—”
“I know that, son. I wasn’t born last week. Jump ahead to the young lady you were in here with days past.”
I smile because these guys seem to know everything about everyone. It’s a little creepy, but also endearing in an odd sort of way.
“She’s a childhood friend, and I responded to a horrible car accident she was in a couple weeks ago. She was a trauma surgeon, and now she has permanent nerve damage in her left hand. She recently found out she won’t be able to return to a job she loves. I’m trying to be supportive, you know? Be a good friend, but it’s hard when I still have feelings for her.”
“Ah, young love is like that. Did she return those feelings in the past?”
I shrug. “No idea. I never asked, but we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately. Her brother reached out to me and asked me to visit her. She’d been in a depressive spiral and I thought she was doing better, but—”
Ivan holds up a wrinkled hand and motions for me to slow down. “What you mean to say is, you thought you fixed it?”
“Well…no…not fixed it, but I suppose I thought I was helping her get over it.” Admitting aloud that I thought Whits would somehow get better in a matter of a couple of weeks puts it into a different perspective. It was ridiculous to think that, and I have a good feeling Ivan is about to let me in on just how stupid it was.
“This doctor, was it always what she wanted to do? Something she was passionate about?” he asks.
“Yes, she said as much, and if I know anything about her, then I know she lived and breathed her work.”
He pats my arm. “When God gives a person a gift and that gift is taken away, it’s a life’s purpose lost. It will take her some time to reaffix her eyes on the Lord and what He’s planned next for her, son, but when she does finally look up, everything will fall back into place. Including where you fit best. Love her, support her, abide by her wishes, steer her toward prayer.”
I clench my jaw, hating the taste of this medicine.
“So I should ignore her until she reaches out to me again?”
“Ha! I didn’t say that. Get that little computer phone of yours, order her some flowers and a nice card with a sweet apology for pushing too hard—”
“I didn’t mean to—”
He waves both hands in front of him. “Doesn’t matter if you meant to or not. Doesn’t even matter if it’s what you did, what matters is that she sees you care and you’re leaving the ball in her court.”
I pick up my phone and tap the screen. “Flowers? Really?”
“Never underestimate what flowers do to a woman. Even women who say they don’t want flowers, want flowers. It’s not about the blooms. It’s about the thought.” Ivan pats my shoulder and slides down from the stool to rejoin his friends.
“Thanks, Ivan. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, son. Oh, and by the way, go ahead and set up a chocolate delivery for tomorrow. Perhaps something for the third day. Every day until her heart thaws and she realizes it isn’t you she’s angry with, but God. Then she’ll remember that God sent her you to make up for the loss, and it’ll work out.”
I huff a laugh and sit a little straighter. I can only pray he’s right, because I’m about to blow an obscene amount of money on a woman who might never want to see me again.