6. Shane
Joe Jr.:“Hey Luce, is this guy bothering you?”
Lucy (laughing): “No, no.”
Joe Jr.: “Are you sure? Because it looks like he’s leaning.”
~While You Were Sleeping
I don’t know why Hope’s making such a big deal about my confession. She hasn’t stopped repeating the line, “I can’t believe it!” over and over as we wander the aisles of the store. It comes out more as a mumble under her breath, but I can hear every single word she utters, along with her disbelief.
“Who knew? Certainly not me,” she murmurs to herself as she grabs a box of toothpaste and examines the ingredients. She glances up at me out of the corner of her eye and presses her lips together as if trying to suppress a smile. Her effort fails, however, each time she tries, and she ends up grinning and shaking her head again in disbelief.
By the time our shopping cart’s filled with almost every makeup, hygiene, and toiletry product known to man, my curiosity gets the best of me. I park the cart, then squeeze past it to stand beside Hope who’s comparing two packs of floss. Waving a hand to get her attention, I ask, “Why is it so unbelievable that I liked you?”
She blinks her pretty blue eyes at me and smiles. “I’m surprised, that’s all. But when you think about it, it makes sense. I was your first exposure to the opposite sex—Ames doesn’t count, of course—and I was over at your house a lot. If you were going to develop a crush on any girl, it makes sense that it was me. I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs at the time, but the idea that you could’ve liked me is so left field, I wouldn’t have thought to look for signs.”
“But why?” I cross my arms and study her amused expression. “Why would the idea be so left field? I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You were—still are—a beautiful woman. Not only on the outside, but the inside, too. You always made sure to include me in your and Amelia’s movie nights. You never got mad when I woke you up in the middle of the night. You even laughed at my jokes, including the knock-knock ones, which I’ll admit now weren’t my best material.”
She laughs, then tosses one of the floss packs into the cart and puts the other one back on the rack. “You should give yourself more credit, too. Your jokes were funny—most of them. You could consider retiring the potty humor ones though, unless you’re talking to middle schoolers.”
“I’m being serious, Hope. You’re a great catch. There were plenty of other girls I could’ve had a crush on, but I chose you.”
“Because it was convenient. I had a crush on my chem lab partner junior year, but it was only because we worked together every single day, and he saved my hair once from going up in flames. You should never turn your back on a Bunsen burner, especially when your hair has a mind of its own,” she adds in a cautionary tone. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s sweet that you liked me, and I’m really touched and flattered, but if Ames had another friend who went over to your house as much as I did, you would’ve liked her instead.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so. I read about this all the time. There’s a trope dedicated to this kind of romance; it’s called best friend’s brother. The brother’s usually older, but I suppose it could work with a younger brother, too. I’ll have to see if there are any books like that. Ooh, this could be the theme for our book club next month. I think the girls would love it! Thanks for the idea, Shane!”
Smiling, she pushes the cart down the aisle to check out the toothbrush section, leaving me to scratch my head. How can she talk about my crush on her in such a logical, no-nonsense way? I can’t help but feel offended for my younger self. Despite all the idiotic things he did, that kid had a sensitive heart and deep emotions.
I quickly catch up with Hope, my long strides overtaking hers in no time at all. Grasping her by the elbow, I turn her toward me. “I don’t think you understand. I really liked you, Hope. Not because it was convenient, or it made sense. I liked you for you.”
Her expression softens. “I believe you, Shane.”
“Good.” My hand falls to my side as I suddenly feel shy. I’m usually pretty level-headed on the job and not prone to showing my emotions. Apparently, I still have a knack for irrational behavior or sleep deprivation has drastically lowered my defenses. Either way, it’s too late to take my words back. I stuff my hands into my pockets and try to play it cool. “That’s all I wanted to say on behalf of the boy once known as Shaney.”
She reaches out and squeezes my arm in a show of what I think is more sympathetic than pitying. “Please tell Shaney I’m sorry I didn’t take his feelings for me seriously. He was and still is a very sweet and sincere guy. My teenage self and my adult self are both honored to know he liked me.”
“All right, all right. We can stop with the third person talk. Go back to your toothbrush selecting. I’m glad you realize how important dental hygiene is for your health.”
Hope rewards me with a sweet smile. “Yes, Shaney.”
Her lighthearted, teasing tone hits me straight in the cheeks. My face feels as bright red as the light-up kiddie toothbrushes we’re standing next to. I can’t stop grinning. If Hope wants to call me Shaney for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t object.
I swallow hard. Did I just say, for the rest of my life?
I pretend to be engrossed in the variety of dental products before me, but all I can think about is how Hope may be the answer to my prayers.
For a best friend.
For a partner.
For a wife.
My gaze travels to where she’s standing with a pack of toothbrushes in each hand. She’s not looking at the items, however, but at a young couple down the aisle who look to be around our age. The woman has her back to the shelves while the man faces her. One of his hands rests on the shelf above her head as he towers over her. They exchange words too soft for me to hear as they stare at each other without blinking. But the giggles that follow ring in the air like the tune of the Pied Piper. The happy sounds lure me in and make me want what they have.
What I’ve always wanted.
Ever since my sister made me watch cheesy, predictable chick flicks with her starting from the third grade, I’ve been curious about relationships. How a man and a woman can meet and fall in love and develop a connection that only the two of them can understand. I long to have that kind of supportive and mutually beneficial relationship—and the cheesiness it brings.
The only problem is that I haven’t met a woman I’ve been able to see having a future with. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve crossed paths with some nice ladies at work and at church. But no one who makes me feel the way that Hope makes me feel. Like a hero one moment, then putty in her hands the next minute. She’s the only woman who can make me blush. And the only one I want to sweep off her feet and carry into the sunset with an endless supply of cookies, if only just to see her smile.
Yes, I’ll admit it, I’m a hopeless romantic. But I have dreams of being a Hope-ful romantic—with a capital H for Hope.
I say a prayer, asking the Lord for His guidance and blessing with this endeavor. We only have a couple of days together, and I want to treat her with the utmost respect and care. It’s also been a long while since I made any moves in the romance department, and I’ll be the first to admit I’m a little rusty. But it appears that I have some great inspiration to work with, namely that young couple.
Hope seems enamored with them. She’s no longer peeking from the corner of her eye but has turned around to face them. Her eyes are wide open, and her pretty pink lips are pressed together like she’s trying to contain her excitement. She reminds me of my sister when she gets to a good part in a romance book. What is it about this couple that’s so intriguing?
Maybe it’s the man’s stance? He’s doing that infamous leaning bit from the movie While You Were Sleeping that Amelia forces me to watch with her every Christmas. I thought it was a gimmick that the screenwriter made up, but maybe it’s possible that women really dig it.
I decide to find out. If I’m going to move myself out of the friend zone with Hope, I need to show her I can be boyfriend, and eventually husband, material.
With purpose in my steps, I saunter over to Hope and stand in front of her. Taking a step forward, I sandwich her in between my torso and the shelving, then I raise my arm over her head. Holding onto the top shelf, I glance down and offer her my sexiest, “Hey.”
She blinks in surprise and replies with a less sexy and somewhat confused, “Hey. What are you doing, Shane?”
“I just wanted to see if you need any help.”
“Oh, I’m good, thanks. I was just debating between getting a single toothbrush or a pack of four. The pack would be a better deal, but I really don’t need that many toothbrushes. But I do plan on brushing my teeth every day for the rest of my life, so maybe I should get the four-pack. What do you think?”
“I say live a little and get the four-pack. You can always save whatever you don’t use for your future husband and kids.”
She bursts out with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’ll use them up a lot sooner than that. There are no guys on my radar right now. And even if there were, I’m not dating this year.”
My mouth grows dry. “Not dating this year? What do you mean?”
“I’m on a self-imposed dating sabbatical this year—or maybe even longer, I haven’t decided.”
I vaguely remember Amelia saying the word sabbatical earlier when she was on the phone. But I had no idea she’d been talking about Hope taking a break from dating. This news is such a shock to me, my tongue freezes up. In my silence, Hope ducks out from under my arm to return the single toothbrush, then tosses the four-pack that she apparently won’t be saving for a husband and kids into the shopping cart.
Great. Not only did my leaning trick not work, I’ve been officially sequestered. Pushed even further into the friend zone with no hope of leaving. Of all the times I could re-meet and fall for the woman of my dreams, it has to be when she’s taken a vow not to date. What am I supposed to do now?