Chapter 15
Pete
“You wanted drawing lessons. Are you still interested?” Zoe asks, as I open the door to our apartment building, and we walk in.
“I am,” I say. “I have to do face painting at the festival. Mrs. Higginbotham called and asked me, and I really wanted to pawn it off, but I need to do my fair share, you know? Like it takes a lot of people to make a small town festival a success, and I don’t think that it should be everyone else doing the work while I do nothing, then I’m not really helping my small town be what I love about it. Does that make sense?”
She’s beaming, and it looks to me like she’s got information that she thinks I’m going to be interested in.
“Did I say something wrong?” I say, smiling, and we both take the stairs again, without talking about it.
“Just, Mrs. Higginbotham asked me to do the face painting too. And I’m picturing you working on one side of someone’s face while I’m working on the other.”
“Wow. So they’ll have one side that looks good, and one cheek that doesn’t,” I say, interested that she would be doing the face painting alongside me.
Lord, there you go again.
“Have you noticed that it seems like you and I have gotten thrown together in an awful lot, and seemingly in random ways?”
“Yes, I have noticed that, and I don’t believe in happenstance, or luck.” She sounds thoughtful.
“Me either,” I say as we reach the top of the stairs, and I pull my key out of my pocket.
I’m not sure what she’s saying, that she doesn’t believe in happenstance or luck, but I know where that leads me.
“It almost seems like the Lord leading us together, but I don’t know why.”
Maybe because He wants us to be together? That’s the question in my head, but I focus on getting my key in the lock, and opening the door.
I allow her to walk in first, and then I step in, closing the door behind me. I throw my keys on the counter where I always do, as Trixie says, “Pete and his precious! Pete and his precious!”
Zoe and I look at each other again. I think about what we were talking about. That neither one of us believe in coincidence, that both of us believe that the Lord is working.
“I’m not sure what He wants either, but it does seem to be coming at us from all sides,” I say, with not a little bit of irony. She smiles and laughs, and then goes to the drawers in the kitchen, digging for silverware.
I like that she’s at home in my house and doesn’t stand around waiting for me to do everything. I don’t mind. I like serving her, but I also like the fact that she isn’t the kind of person to sit around and expect it out of people.
I picture her as someone who will have to be forced to slow down after hospital stays or something like that, while other people care for them.
I kind of like that picture. That she’s spunky and strong-willed, but allows her will to be bent when the situation determines it, and in particular, in order to please me.
Not that I don’t do the same for her, and I feel like that’s probably a hallmark of a good relationship, where both people are trying to treat the other person the way they want to be treated.
“You want to eat in the living room?” I ask, mostly because I don’t like cats, but I don’t particularly want to have one sitting in front of me while I’m eating my food.
“So that my cat isn’t on top of your meal?” she asks, and I look guilty. She laughs.
I shrug, and I feel like we say a lot without saying much at all, and she doesn’t get mad at me.
That seems to be a recurring theme. Am I really bracing myself for someone to get mad at me all the time? What has happened that I’m conditioned to always think I’m going to get yelled at? Or have someone be angry?
We sit down in the living room, and she hands me silverware, while I hand her the water that I got from the sink.
She murmurs a thank you, and then sits down but does not open her food.
I think that means she’s waiting for me to pray, and so I say, “Should I pray?”
She nods and smiles, and I realize that everything that happens makes me feel like she’s perfect. Except, she wants her career to be a success, and she hasn’t talked anything about having a significant other any time in the future.
Can I talk about that?
We eat in silence for about five minutes before I get up enough nerve to say what’s really on my mind.
“So, I know that you’re working to get your social media, and possibly have a viral post, and to make enough money from your narration to support yourself. Possibly even getting some attention from Hollywood.”
“Yeah,” she says, putting another bite of food in her mouth, like there isn’t anything more to say about that.
“How do you feel about marriage? Or relationships?” I should have done that in reverse order, but it’s out now, and while her chewing slows down just a bit, it picks back up, and she tilts her head.
She swallows, and then says, “I guess I don’t want to get married if it’s going to end in divorce. I don’t see any point, you know?”
“I’ve never really heard anyone say it like that. That there was no point in doing it all, if it’s not going to have the outcome you wanted, but I think I kind of agree. Although I do see a flaw. Because you don’t really know how it’s going to turn out when you start?”
“No. You don’t. You have no guarantees that the person that you’re marrying is going to change. And I just don’t want to do divorce. I went through one with my parents when I was really young, and I still look back on that time as being one of... I don’t even know if pain is the right word, just fear. It just seems dark and black and fearful and I didn’t know what was going to happen, and I didn’t understand why mom couldn’t stay with us anymore and why they couldn’t get along and... It was just confusing and hard and I don’t want to put any children through that. And I don’t want to go through that as an adult.”
“I see. So does that mean no relationships for you?”
“Well, for me, I know that in the modern day, and I don’t want to be too crude,” she looks down, and stirs her take-out. “But relationships just seem to be about sex. Maybe companionship is a secondary thing, but it’s just about hooking up, you know?”
“Yeah.” I’ve seen this. I am not completely blind to what the rest of the world is doing. I don’t really like it, and I don’t understand it. There doesn’t seem to be any meaning in that. It’s having sex with random people until you’re tired of that person or you fall out of love or whatever you call it, and move on to someone else. I know that wasn’t the way humans were created to be. We were created to be lifelong people. Lifelong relationships, lifelong building of a family and of the children having children and more children and still the grandparents being together, and we just don’t have that anymore. Not just because people move away from their family without thinking twice about it but also because people have smaller families, and then the crowning jewel, what Zoe and I are talking about, which is basically people just hook up, and then ditch each other when someone else better comes along or they get tired, or whatever. There’s no permanence.
But, I understand how she might take herself out of the game completely, with the idea that what was the point if the marriage wasn’t going to last? What was the point of even having a relationship?
I’m discouraged. I was hoping that there would be something but she seems like she’s not the slightest bit interested.
Still, I guess we can be friends. That seems to be what we are. With no interest or intent of being anything more.
Okay, I try to contain my frustration, and disappointment, but it’s tough. She seems perfect for me. We agree on everything, or maybe not everything, but the important things, and I’ve never met anyone who fits me the way she does. I like that she makes me see things differently, and I feel like I can be good for her too.
Of course, just because she’s not interested in a relationship doesn’t mean that I can’t still try to help her, and maybe that’s what I’ll put my thoughts towards.
She finishes up her food, and it’s almost midnight. Both of us have to be at our jobs at six o’clock, and as much as I hate it, when she says, “I really should be going. I’m sorry I stayed so long,” I say, “I had a great time, and I hate to agree, but I feel bad that you're going to be tired tomorrow morning because of me.”
“I can’t imagine a better reason to be tired. Plus, waitressing doesn’t exactly require a person to be on their A game. You just have to be willing to walk a lot, and keep people’s drinks filled up. That’s the most important thing.”
I laugh a little, because I’m guilty right there of being upset when I’m in a restaurant, and I’m trying to eat and I’ve been out of a drink for a long time.
I know her apartment isn’t very far away, but I say, “I’ll walk you over,”
She grins, and her laugh fills the air as she acknowledges the fact that her apartment isn’t that far away and we’re being a little bit ridiculous.
It feels so much like the start of a relationship, but she was pretty clear that she wasn’t interested.
Not just in me, but in relationships in particular. Still, I wonder, can I change her mind?
She seems charmed as I do the traditional male things, and so, we move to the kitchen, where I open my door.
“Pete and his precious. Pete and his precious,” Trixie says, as we stand there, Flipper in Zoe’s arms, and look back at the bird.
“I think he just does that for attention,” Zoe says, wrinkling her nose.
It’s such a cute nose, and I want to reach out and tweak it, but I don’t.
“I guess that means I should spend more time with him,” I say, knowing that bird gets just as much attention with me as he did with Leo. Probably more. But, I don’t try to defend myself that way. Maybe I will try to spend more time with it.
It’s two steps to her door, and she hands me her keys so I can unlock it for her, and I open the door, holding the key out as she walks by.
She grins a little as though she knows how ridiculous she’s going to sound, but she says, “You can come in for a drink if you want to.”
“Nah. I need to let you get to sleep. But, maybe I’ll see you in the morning.”
I’d like to say I’m going to make sure of it, but it takes me longer to get to Baxley’s house than it takes her to get to the restaurant, and we probably won’t cross paths, because I’ll leave earlier.
That makes me a little bit sad, but it’s probably for the best if we're not going to have a relationship.
Although, I really like the idea of rising to the challenge and trying to convince her that I’m someone who will go with her to the grave, and I won’t leave her, or divorce her. That she can take a chance on me.
Still, if I take that route, I know that I probably have a better than fifty percent chance of having my heart broken, and broken badly. Because I’m really starting to like her.