20. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
BETH
That evening, Beth made her signature dish, Sri Lankan Chicken Curry. They sat in the small dining room, listening to a podcast from Israel while they ate. Nick gobbled his food in minutes. She dipped the large metal spoon into the casserole dish, and scooped more of the bubbly, buttery sauce along with a drumstick and cubed potato. Waves of steam drifted in the air, as she poured it into his bowl. The whole room emanated cumin, cardamom, and paprika spices.
The podcast finished, and an Israeli song came next. Fascinating cultural music, but she had to bite back a smile when the singer pronounced her r’s with a throat-curdling spitting sound. Nick was getting into the moment, and the likelihood that he would find her amusement disrespectful, made it difficult to resist turning into a giggly schoolgirl. In science class, she’d gotten into trouble when her friend had made some silly joke about Mr. Hennrison always wearing brown. How had she kept a straight face when she’d asked him, “Is your favorite color brown, sir?” They’d been shocked when he’d said nothing and just grinned.
Nick turned down the music. “What’s making you smile?”
She blinked. “Oh, my mind was drifting to outerspace. Nothing. It’s nothing.” She lifted another spoonful to her mouth.
He touched her hand. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy—whatever it is that makes you smile.”
She picked up a paper napkin and wiped her mouth. “Nick, when am I going to meet your mother? On the day of the ceremony?”
He leaned back and patted his belly. “That was an amazing meal, hon. Another talent of my beautiful wife-to-be.”
She smiled.
His forehead wrinkled. “It’s a long way for Mom to drive, so I assume she’ll come the afternoon of the ceremony. I booked it for four-thirty p.m., the last slot before closing, which is seven-thirty a.m. for your family.”
“Oh, that’s why you made it so late. When you’ve got the links ready, I’ll send it to my family’s group chat.”
“Beth, I haven’t been in Los Angeles much the last couple of years and lost touch with most people.” He rubbed his cheek. “I used to live in Oceanside near my mom. So, I’m not going to invite anyone to the ceremony. I’ll post a link to a select group of friends on Facebook who want to watch the live video.”
“Okay,” She said slowly, then shrugged. “We’re in the same situation then. I don’t know any of your friends anyway. It’ll be nice to meet your mother though.”
“Mmm.”
His mother couldn’t be that bad. Beth cleared her throat. “So, two weeks from today, and we’ll be married. Do we need visas for Israel?”
“No. Not American citizens.” His eyes widened. “Oh, I better check that it’s the same for Australians. I think a visa is needed for anyone who wants to stay longer than ninety days.”
“Right. Well that’s definitely something you should check before paying for any flights.”
His chair scraped the tiled floor as he stood. “Let me take your bowl and I’ll clean up the kitchen. You put your feet up. Relax.” Nick stacked the bowls and spoons and headed to the sink—a total five steps from the table.
The sofa wasn’t a place to sprawl out, so she retreated to the bedroom. She flopped onto the queen bed, stretched to the bedside table, and grabbed her phone. Time to catch up with the other side of the world. She’d never been much of a Facebook fan, but she intended to check it regularly now. She clicked on the notification bell and froze. Lachlan Peters had sent her a friend request. What? She clicked off her screen and faced the phone down.
He hadn’t sent her a personal email in nearly a year, and now he wanted to be friends? They didn’t have shared contacts, so he must have looked her up. How did he know which Bethany Michaels was her? She’d put a generic profile pic of the Fremantle shoreline. He must’ve recognized it. Hang on, he knew Chris, so maybe he friended Cassie, and then saw her name as a suggestion.
She grabbed her phone again, her heart racing. Why did this matter? Lachlan was a friend of the past—barely that. She opened the app again and clicked on his profile. Oh—still handsome as ever. A beard? He must’ve finished with the Navy.
Click. She chucked her phone to the other side of the bed. She couldn’t accept his request. Even if Facebook offered a way of indirect and limited communication. She wasn’t even Facebook friends with Nick yet. And if he found out she’d recently friended a Navy guy, he might ask questions.
Was Lachlan’s profile picture recent? Totally free from the Navy? Two years had passed. Had he signed another contract?
Beth sat upright. Why was she even giving Lachlan two seconds of her time? He’d made it clear she wasn’t worth his. Five-word sentence responses to her long emails. She needed a shower. That always cleared her mind and helped her relax.
When Beth entered the kitchen, she found a note on the Laminex counter. “Gone for a walk.” Without her? Couldn’t Nick wait for her to finish in the shower?
She huffed out a sigh as she opened the freezer. Ice cream for one then—more for her. She took out the cookies and cream gourmet dessert and spooned three scoops into a wine glass.
Was it safe to walk the streets here? Her eyes widened. People in America had guns. She covered her mouth. Did Nick have a gun? He’d been in the Navy and would be comfortable with one. Was it here in the apartment? Did he take it with him?
Panic flashed through her as she dropped her spoon. She raced to the bedroom and checked the bedside tables, then under the mattress. She’d never seen a gun in her life, only a replica old-fashioned one at the Ned Kelly exhibition years ago.
Taking deep breaths, she chose not to become overwhelmed. Nick knew what he was doing. He would walk around the block and have some downtime. Something she needed to do more of. And she needed to keep things in perspective. Her body would be out of whack with a fifteen-hour time difference, twenty hours of travel, all the rushing around the following day—no wonder she couldn’t rationalize. She needed more sleep. After a catch-up nap, she’d feel a lot better.
Hours later, Beth sleepily reached toward the bedside table where the lamp remained on and tapped her phone. 3:17 a.m. Oops. She rolled on her back, then flinched when she saw a body next to her. Nick! He lay on top of the doona with the same clothes he’d worn that day and his shoes still on. What time had he come home?
He must’ve been exhausted to have skipped changing. Although they’d be married in two weeks, she felt strange to wake up beside him, to be in the same bed. She’d need to get over that soon.
She quietly lifted the covers and slipped out of the room. Fumbling in the dark hallway, she ran her hands along the smooth wall until she found a switch in the living room. The mattress leaned against the wall and a folded blanket lay on the coffee table. She set herself up and snuggled under the thick, gray blanket, ready to sleep. The blow-up wasn’t uncomfortable. Maybe they could alternate who got the bed from now on.
It took her a while to fall asleep. Some time later, she woke to the scent of coffee and scraping of metal. Nick stood in the kitchen. The slightest glint of morning sun shone through the blinds behind him.
“You’re up early.” She croaked from the living room as she wobbled, sitting up.
He scooped sugar into his mug and stirred. “I don’t need much sleep. Going to go for a jog after this.” He lifted his coffee and took a sip.
“What time did you get home last night?” She flicked off the blanket and made her way to the dining table, smoothing out her unruly hair.
“Late.” He took a seat opposite her.
“What were you doing? Isn’t it unsafe to walk the streets alone?”
He chuckled. “Glendale is okay. But I did come across a homeless person outside a seven-eleven. I sat talking with him for a long time.”
She rubbed her eyes. “What for?”
He scratched at his unshaven cheeks. “To hear his story. I also deposited some money into his account.”
Beth was suddenly more awake. “You asked him for his bank account details and he gave them to you?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “He needed the money.”
“How much did you give him?”
“Two hundred dollars.”
“Nick, he might spend that on alcohol and drugs. You should’ve bought him food or gave him a voucher.”
His face scowled. “I felt that I needed to give him the money.”
“Sure. But in our charities and food programs, we help pay bills for those struggling, but we never give cash.” She shook her head. “It’s too much of a temptation for them to get high.”
Nick thumped his mug to the table. “Not everyone ends up on the streets because of an addiction.”
“I’m aware of that.” She crossed her arms. “But how do you know if they tell you the truth? Druggies lie and cheat to get a fix.”
He waved his hand in dismissal. “You sound like Pastor Jeremiah. Rules. Procedures. No considering each individual’s situation.”
She blinked owlishly.
“You’re a hypocrite like them.” He raised his voice. Nick flicked back his chair and dumped his coffee in the sink. “I’m going for that jog.” He stomped to the door and slammed it behind him.
Beth remained frozen. What in the world?
Her mind whirled for several minutes as she tried to understand. She needed to talk to someone. Cassie.
In the bedroom, she sat with a red pillow on her lap and waited for Cassie to answer the messenger call.
“Hello, Beth! How’s life in the U.S.?”
Emotion clogged her voice.
“Beth?” Cassie paused. “Can you hear me? You there?”
“Yes.” She managed to squawk out.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Oh, honey. What’s the matter?”
Beth squeaked a high-pitched whisper. “Sorry. I’m emotional from the jet lag, and I’m missing home.”
“Oh. That’s okay. Take your time. Breathe. I’ll go somewhere quiet. Chris is watching T.V.” The sound of swishing came through the speaker.
Beth wiped her cheek and exhaled a shaky breath.
“Is everything going okay with Nick?” Cassie asked.
“He’s very . . . spiritual. Sometimes, I’m not sure if he’s on planet Earth. Do you know what I mean?”
“Can you give me an example?”
“There are lots of those.” She went on to explain what just happened.
“Mmm.” Cassie waited for a moment. “What’s his friends and family like?”
“He’s not that connected with any of them. We met a pastor to see if they’d do the wedding ceremony, but Nick didn’t want to do the pre-marriage counseling. And he’s angry with them for not wanting to donate to his project in Israel. The pastor said they only go through an over-sight agency.”
“That’s wise.”
She swiped an escaped tear. “I thought so too. But Nick doesn’t understand logic.”
“If you feel uneasy by Nick’s words or actions, you should be able to voice your opinion without him getting upset with you. That’s a red flag to me. If he’s irritated and snappy at you when you’re genuinely concerned, then that’s not working as a team. Is that how you want him to behave in your marriage?”
She reached to the bedside table and grabbed a tissue. “Of course not.”
“Beth, can I be honest with you?”
“You’re always honest with me.” She sniffed. “I called you for help, so tell me what you think I should do.”
“Delay the wedding. Insist that you do pre-marital counseling and bring up these situations in the sessions.”
She swallowed. “You’re right.”
“Did I ever tell you about the time when my friend, Chantelle, met this super-spiritual guy?”
“No.”
“He seemed amazing when I first met him. I encouraged her even.” She hissed. “He proposed to Chantelle within a few weeks. She didn’t say yes, but oh, it took her months to untangle from his web. He had some strange ideas, and she was confused for a while, but eventually, she knew something wasn’t quite right.”
Beth swapped her phone to the other ear. “Nick’s a nice guy. He’s got a good heart, Cass. I don’t think it’s exactly the same as your friend’s situation.”
“Nick can be a great guy and still get things wrong. I’m sure he genuinely wants to help people. That’s not in question here.”
A click from the front door sounded.
“Cassie, I’ve gotta go. He’s back.”
“Okay. Stay strong.”
“Thanks for the talk.” She hung up and plugged her phone into its charger.