15. Wherever You Will Go
15
WHEREVER YOU WILL GO
THE CALLING
Ginny strolled down Main Street on Saturday evening, taking in the festival one booth at a time. The sweet smells of homemade baked goods, Duke’s BBQ, and fried foods filled the air. Melodies of laughter, conversation, and Ms. Jan’s eclectic playlist were the soundtrack of the balmy October night, framed perfectly by the color of fall leaves painting the trees lining the street in golden yellows, rich oranges, and vibrant reds.
The town had unanimously voted for the design Ginny liked best at the beginning of the celebration. Georgia surprised them all by having sweatshirts made for purchase in advance with that very design printed across them, explaining to Ginny that she knew the residents of Sugartree would choose the very best one.
Though Ginny wore her Hanson, Middle of Nowhere, tee for her meeting with Melody man, she carried her new sweatshirt in the crook of her arm, proudly. Holding onto it for when the autumn breeze would, God-willing, bring down the unseasonably warm temperature that evening.
“I can’t believe how nervous I am,” Ginny said, chatting with Sadie and describing all the sights and smells and Sugartree lunatics that her best friend was missing. “Should I be this nervous? I’m tryin’ not to be… Oh my goodness, Charlene Emmerson is wearin’ her first place winner ribbon from the Cake and Bake competition. There's a crown and everything.”
“Aww,” Sadie cooed through the phone. “She must’ve won with that lemon bundt cake she’s always braggin’ about. I’m happy for her. She needed a win.”
“She’s getting it. She and another lady are staring daggers at one another in front of Duke’s BBQ. There’s a crowd. I can’t tell if they’re all wantin’ pulled pork or a show.”
“Be real, Virginia. It’s Sugartree. They’re there for both.”
“She just called the other lady a snake…”
“Betty Robertson,” Sadie sighed. “According to Mrs. Emmerson, she makes a banana puddin’ cake straight from the gates of H.E. double hockey sticks.”
Ginny laughed but then stopped in the middle of the street, listening to the two elderly women cut each other with the kind of remarks that almost sounded like a compliment.
Well, isn’t it so nice that you finally won first place.
I had no idea they’d allow a magazine recipe to enter, but good for you.
Have you been eatin’ all that lemon bundt cake all by yourself?
You’re absolutely glowin’. Must be all that lard ya used on that puddin’ cake…
“Sadie,” Ginny giggled, “no joke. That other lady just challenged Mrs. Emmerson to a bake-off.”
“It’s the sharks and the jets over there.”
“You’re not wrong.” Ginny got excited. “Maybe they’ll start a flashmob.”
“It’d be a real treat to eat up,” Sadie mused.
“A mouthwatering musical performance.” Ginny crossed Main Street, which had been blocked off for thru traffic. “It’s makin’ me crave a treat. Think I might get a corn dog and watch from a distance.”
“You’re totally scopin’ out for Melody Man, aren’t you? Do you have binoculars?”
“I’m not scoping,” Ginny said, meandering through the crowd to the corn dog booth and ordering one to go. “But if I happen to see him in advance whilst enjoying a hot dog covered in perfectly fried, golden cornmeal, would that be so wrong?”
“Not at all, girl. Not at all.” Sadie sighed. “Kota has been on night exercises all week, so I’m lookin’ for all the entertainment I can get. What’s goin’ on with Ryan? Did y’all hang out again? And when I say hang out , what I really mean is, have you swapped spit?”
“Ew! Sadie!” Ginny paid for her corn dog and took a bite, talkin’ through it, “You are so crass sometimes. You’ve been hangin’ out with Kota too long. You should probably come home now.”
“And you’re cranky, so I’m guessin’ you haven’t kissed Ryan again.”
“Don’t you think I would have told you if I had?” She took another bite, looking around the crowd for anyone carrying a record, since Melody Man mentioned he’d be bringing one. “Like I told you before, I really feel like the Lord is telling me to hit pause, ya know? I wanna show Ryan that he means more to me than just a kiss. I want to show up for him without expecting anything in return. And we actually had coffee this mornin’. It was nice. He had to go get ready for a thing tonight. And I’m focused on givin’ it time. Patience. Friendship. Unconditional love… Lovin’ him like Jesus, ya know?”
“Proud of you, Gin.”
Ginny waved her feelings off, took the final bite of her corn dog, and threw the stick in a trash can. “Anyways, it was really nice hanging out. We had a good, normal time. It was all very friendly.”
“ Friendly ,” Sadie mocked. “Sure, sure. I know how that goes. One minute you’re insistin’ you’re just friends, and the next thing ya know, you’re declarin’ your love for each other in a thunderstorm.”
“Sounds risky. I’ll take my love declarations dry, and preferably, with no lightning involved.”
“To each their own, I guess. Listen, I gotta go, but call me the second you leave your hot date with Melody Man, okay? I wanna know every detail! Especially if it’s Danger!”
“It’s not Danger!” Ginny laughed and rolled her eyes. “I’ll call you later. I’m headin’ over to the gazebo now.”
“You’re a strong and wise, corn dog queen, and no one could ever deserve you. Byyyyyyeeee,” Sadie sang before ending the call.
Ginny laughed again to herself and took a fortifying breath, rubbing her thumb along the friendship bracelet Melody Man had left for her. The gesture had a surprising, wooing effect on Ginny. One she’d been reminded of each time she’d seen it laying on her bedside table and then, today, when she’d decided to wear it around her wrist. Her bundled nerves took flight, a fluttering of butterflies dancing in her belly.
She was going to meet Melody Man.
With so much uncertainty surrounding Ryan, and her determination to love him as a friend and sister in Christ would, Ginny was glad for the welcome and sweet distraction of her friendship with Melody Man. For how his friendship hadn’t made her feel like she needed to be anything but herself.
The sound of Jan’s eclectic playlist blared across the festival, just as Melody Man had predicted. The song list ranged anywhere from The Beatles to Hootie and the Blowfish. Ginny smiled to herself and took her first steps towards the small, white gazebo on the other end of the street. The music grew softer with every step she took, but the sound of the crowd, kids cheering at various booths, and laughter in the air, settled Ginny’s nerves as she neared her destination.
“Hey, y’all!” She waved at Blaire, Evan, and her sisters who were cheering on Lake and Griffin at the apple bobbing booth, shouting, “Bob! Bob! Bob!”
Both her brothers-in-law whipped their heads out of the giant wooden tub, having successfully retrieved their prizes, and shook their wet hair at Georgia, Caroline, and the kids. Ginny laughed but didn’t stop, anxious for her own festival excitement.
She wiggled her way through another small crowd and stopped near the steps of Good Start, discreetly standing around the corner of the building like the lowkey stalker Sadie had implied she was, hoping she might get a peek of her mystery man.
For three breaths, Ginny watched, waiting for the crowd to disperse. She hadn’t seen anyone near the gazebo, aside from a few teenagers she was relieved to see walk away and a stray dog circling the area.
The crowd seemed to part, just for her, but among the movement, she spotted Ryan. It was only a glimpse, but she’d know that head of strawberry blonde hair anywhere, whether her fingers had been tangled up in it the week before or not.
Ginny visually followed the path Ryan took as he followed the pup, leading them both to the gazebo.
“No, no, no, no, no,” she whispered to herself, with a satisfactory, “ oatmeal raisin cookies …” gritted out through her teeth.
Ryan could not be in the gazebo when she met Melody Man. She may be a strong and wise, corn dog queen focused on loving her very attractive friend as a brother in Christ, but Ginny could not handle the peacocking that would take place if Ryan heard or, heaven forbid, witnessed what she was up to. Her feelings revolving around both men were confusing enough. She decided to march her way over and gently ask Ryan to take a hike.
But when she got to the gazebo, the scene she found was too much for Ginny’s mind and heart to handle. Ryan hunched over the puppy, rubbing its swollen belly like he had all the time in the world.
He was so mindful of his task, mewing and ministrating over the adorable specimen, he didn’t hear her approach or see her as she took in every detail. The strong hand giving that belly rub was attached to a notably attractive wrist—she wasn’t sure when that piece of anatomy became interesting—but it had a very familiar, very significant friendship bracelet attached. And on the seat at Ryan's side rested a pristine record with a giant I’m your mysterious pen pal red bow wrapped around it. The album featuring Adele’s, Hello, mocked her where she stood.
If she weren’t on the brink of tears, Ginny would’ve laughed. All their conversations. Melody Man playing guitar. Learning from his grandparents. His love for music… for Jesus… for his closest friends. Christmas Cookies ice cream…
She brought her shaking hand to her mouth, as if doing so would eliminate the wild array of emotions she was experiencing or the very real screams she wanted to release. She used her free hand to cover the bracelet and then realized she was wearing the shirt she promised Melody Man—RYAN!!!!—she’d be wearing.
Ryan is Melody Man. Ryan… your friend… is Melody Man.
Ryan Hood, who she’d soundly kissed and confessed feelings to within the past week was also the man she’d shared secrets with and shamed for his inattention to her superior organization skills.
The very same man who’d rejected her because he didn’t trust his own feelings, was the man who’d wooed her with friendship bracelets and perfect playlists.
Without thinking about why she did it, Ginny quickly whipped her new Sugartree Sweatshirt over her head, pulled the sleeves down to cover the friendship bracelet, and cleared her throat.
“Well, what do we have here?” she said, surprised at how steady her voice sounded.
Ryan glanced up and then over her shoulder. “Uh, oh. Hey, Gin. I, um… I just met this little fuzzball on my way to… um, well, to something else.”
Inside she was screaming, “To meet me, you beautiful peacock! ” But she played it as cool as a cucumber, crouching down and greeting the spotted puppy still lying on her back at Ryan’s feet.
“She’s just the cutest, isn’t she?” Ginny cooed, adopting the voice she reserved only for the sweetest of creatures—puppies and babies—and was amazed that she’d managed another sentence without internally combusting. “She seems absolutely charmed by you, Ryan.”
“Ha. I don’t know about that.” He shrugged and looked at the gazebo entrance again, clearly waiting for her, Mood Music, to arrive.
The puppy rolled over, tongue lolling out of its mouth and somehow raising its adorableness level off the charts. Ginny couldn’t help but swoon as Ryan took the mutt in his arms, cradling it like a baby.
She made a note that she would have to admit to Sadie that Melody Man was indeed, as Sadie had referred to him, a musically inclined, hot man. “Looks like you got yourself a new girl in your life.” She winked, but inside screamed, “What are you doing, Virginia?! Tell him the truth!!”
He looked down at the dog in his arms, like he couldn’t quite make eye contact with Ginny as he admitted, “I… I was planning to meet a friend here, but then I came across this girl. She doesn’t seem to have any tags, so I’ll have to spread the word and see if I can find her owners.”
Ginny knew it was wrong. Knew she should approach this situation with honesty. But she thought about how open Ryan had been as Melody Man talking to Mood Music. And how he was the one who wanted to meet her . Melody Man initiated contact. If Ginny fessed up, what would he say? Would he look at her just as he had in her parent’s driveway and then again at the antique store? Like he couldn’t trust himself or his feelings.
She couldn’t risk it.
She decided then and there she’d just have to stop writing to her musical, mystery penpal. She’d never be able to tell Ryan the truth without him regretting the things he’d told her. But while she was there, standing exactly where she was supposed to be, Ginny couldn’t help but have a bit of a good time with it all.
“Cool,” she said so very, very casually. “What friend are ya meeting? Wanna grab some dinner on the street when they get here?”
Ryan sighed. “I’ve actually never met… her.” He pinched his lips, clearly uncomfortable, and used that sweet, innocent pup the same way he used his guitar. A security blanket to devote all his attention to.
“Oh. Her?”
“Yeah.” His green eyes flicked up to hers. “Yeah, she’s… We’ve been exchanging letters or notes… Really, it’s hard to explain, but we said we’d meet here today. And I don’t know why I’m telling you this and why I feel… well, I don’t feel great.” He blew so much air through his mouth a raspberry noise came out.
“And do you…” Ginny bit her lip, “feel something for this mystery girl?”
Oh goodness. No matter how he answered, she’d regret it. She started to feel sweat pooling in her pits. Was it the heat or the shame of her deception? She should’ve walked away and left the whole thing—
“Yes.”
Yes. Whoa. Ginny loved that word.
Could she enjoy a corn dog every day of her life? Why, yes. Yes she could.
Was kissin’ the best? A resounding, yes.
Did Ryan Hood have feelings for real Ginny and Mood Music—also real Ginny—YES!
“I’m sorry, Ginny. I know that’s a really sleazy thing to hear from me. Especially after we…”
“Snogged?”
Ryan snorted and the puppy perked her face up from his arms and licked him. Doin’ a little kissin’ of her own. “Yeah, Gin. After you snogged me .”
“You sure didn’t seem to argue until… like three seconds after, Coach.”
“You’re right.” He looked back at the dog and offered her to Ginny. “Ya wanna hold her?”
She took the puppy in her arms and imprinted like a teenage werewolf with a million red flags. She was in love. Forget that adorable man staring at them both. She’d just run away with this puppy. “Everyone’s always tryin’ to distract me with babies and puppies.”
“Is it workin’?”
“Yes.” She snuggled the puppy close. “So you have feelings for this mystery girl, and I showed up, but she didn’t?” A line of sweat dripped from her forehead.
Ryan looked around and Ginny felt the guilt of her deception paint all over the warm and fuzzies she’d felt only moments before with the bundle in her arms. Ryan looked incredibly and utterly disappointed.
“I guess not.” Ryan looked down at his watch, and she saw that same matching friendship bracelet on his wrist. Her own was likely burning a mark as punishment underneath the sweatshirt she was currently soaking with sweat. She felt herself growing warmer and warmer by the second. “She’s like twenty minutes late.”
He ran his hand through his hair and sat on the bench beside the record.
Ginny sat beside him, feeling awful and really unsure of the best course. Her daddy’s voice sayin’, Telling the truth is never the wrong choice , echoed in her head. But wasn’t it too late for that? She couldn’t backtrack now. If she were playin’ poker, she was pot-committed. All in. Mood Music was no more.
“I’m sure she has a good reason for not showin’, Ryan.” She nudged his shoulder with hers. “But if you want some company while you wait, I’ll hang around. If she doesn’t show, we can get this girl a bath and a couple corn dogs.”
“The puppy can’t eat a corn dog, Ginny.”
Ginny waved him off, “Nah, I was talkin’ about myself.” She gazed slyly at him, feeling out his mood. “But, I mean, the dog should probably bathe and eat too.”
“Thanks, Gin. I, ummm, I wouldn’t mind the company.”
“Good.” She placed the puppy between them. “But if you think I won’t peacock around this gazebo the second your mystery girl shows up, you are crazy.”
“You, struttin’ around, peacocking? I’ll look forward to that, Remillard.”
He had no idea…