Beth
I DON’T THINK I’VE EVER prayed for weather before last night. Maybe when I was a little girl, and I wanted to wake up to snow on Christmas morning, maybe then I whispered into the dark, hands folded and eyes closed. I can’t remember if God ever listened to me then. Not for something as trivial as a weather request, but I’m sure I would’ve given it a shot anyway if it was something I really wanted. Something I couldn’t make happen on my own. And maybe God appreciates those little wishes, the soft voices in the night that aren’t calling out for the impossible. Maybe that’s why he gave me rain this morning. Amongst all the heavy hearts and tired minds around the world, pleading for miracles before bed, I chose to quietly ask for a day to get to know Reed. A day that apparently needed bad weather to happen. It seems silly, and insignificant, and maybe this has nothing to do with God. I know what causes rain, and I probably just got lucky. But today, as I listen to the soft tapping against my bedroom window, I’m going to choose to believe something greater was behind this.
I take a long look at myself in the bathroom mirror as I secure the hair tie onto the end of my braid that falls over one shoulder.
My cheeks are flushed with excitement, or from the warm shower I took a half hour ago. Or maybe my nerves are on full display, because I definitely am nervous. I have no idea what to expect from this meet up with Reed. Spending time together to get to know each other should seem pretty straight-forward. I’m expecting a lot of questions, a thorough back-and-forth to cover all our bases. But I honestly have no idea what version of Reed I’m going to be getting today. I’ve witnessed several sides of him already in the two times we’ve been together, ranging from charming flirt to unapproachable asshole. Yesterday I seemed to get a mix of both, so yeah, I’m nervous.
I want the guy who came up to me at McGill’s, not the one who walked away.
Hattie is sitting at the kitchen table, sipping iced tea and flipping through a magazine when I walk into the room. She looks up and gives me a warm smile as her hand lowers the glass down in front of her.
“Well, don’t you look pretty,” she admires as I fetch my car keys from the small dish on the island.
I look down briefly at the outfit I settled on today, a cream sundress that clings to my body until it hits my waist. There it fans out a bit and falls to mid-thigh. Not too revealing, but definitely an outfit I’ve gotten attention in before. I’ve paired it with the only shoes I own, my boots, and they keep it casual, which is how I like to be. This is about as dressy as I get. I’ve never worn a pair of heels, and I’m not planning on it either.
I’ll get married in these boots. Just watch me.
“Doing anything fun today?”
I turn around and walk up to the table, keys in hand. “I’m meeting up with Reed. We’re going to hang out and he’s going to help me pick out a new cell phone.” I grab a few grapes out of the bowl in front of Hattie and pop one in my mouth. “I might be gone for most of the day.”
Hattie leans back in her chair, waiting until I look at her to speak. “You’re meeting up with Reed?” Her face visibly tenses when I nod. “Beth, darlin,’ I’m not sure hanging out with Reed Tennyson is the best thing for you. He’s a sweetheart, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not really . . .” she pauses, her eyebrows pinching together before her gaze drops to the table. I can tell she’s struggling with her next words, and I know it has to do with my past.
What else could it be?
“Aunt Hattie, I’m fine,” I tell her, prompting her to look up with eyes filled with worry. “I love that you’re looking out for me. I do, but, I’m really, really good. I promise.” I smile, hoping to get a mirrored reaction. Her lips pull up slightly. “Thank you for caring about me. You don’t even really know me yet. You don’t have to care, but the fact that I have family who does means so much.”
She flattens a hand to her chest. “Oh, darlin.’ I’m sorry. It’s not my place to butt in. Just . . .” she waves her hand dismissively. “Just ignore me. I’m being overprotective.”
“That’s okay.” I pop another grape in my mouth, chewing behind my smile. “Did you and Uncle Danny ever want to have kids?”