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Authors: Robin Jones Gunn

Echoes (12 page)

BOOK: Echoes
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“Garry?”

“Hello, Lauren. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.”

“How did you know where I lived?” The alarm she felt sounded in her voice.

“You’re in the book.”

“Who is it?” Justin asked, rounding the corner to check on their guest. He seemed as surprised as Lauren.

“I didn’t realize you had company,” Garry said. “Nice to see you … Justin, is it?”

“How you doing?” Justin politely extended a hand.

Just then Amy appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Hello,” she called out cheerfully. “I take it this is the right place.”

“This is it,” Justin said.

“Looks as if you have a party going on here,” Garry said. “I’m not imposing, am I?”

Amy apparently didn’t hear what Garry said to Justin and Lauren. She came up behind him and said, “Hi, I’m Amy.”

“Garry Taft,” he said, returning her friendly greeting.

An uncomfortable moment of silence canopied the four of them on the tight landing in front of Lauren’s apartment door. Inside, the music blared away happily. None of them said anything as they self-consciously grinned at each other.

Just then the phone rang.

“Excuse me,” Lauren said. She hurried to grab the phone and had to cover her ear to hear over the music. “Hello?” Over her shoulder she was aware that people had entered her apartment. She turned to see Justin and Amy, and behind them came Garry with a look of victory glimmering in his oversized eyes.

The person on the other end hung up. Lauren returned to the kitchen and tried to think straight. Amy asked if she could do anything to help. Lauren said she thought everything was about ready, and then there was another knock at the door. Two guys from the group stood there with cheesy grins on their thin, bespeckled faces. Somehow she had the feeling these two were a team who had made it their goal to visit every singles’ group in town. Lauren’s church happened to be next on their list.

She forced a gracious welcome and showed them into the living room where Justin stood by the stereo, chatting away with Amy.

Someone knocked on the door. Lauren swung it open and a woman who was older than Lauren by a few years greeted her with, “Your map was terrible. I’ve been driving around this apartment complex for half an hour.”

Justin turned up the music another notch, and Garry called out from the kitchen loud enough for everyone to hear, “Hey, Lauren, don’t you have any beer around this place?”

Chapter Eleven

A
t three o’clock that Sunday afternoon, Lauren saw her guests to the door, all except Garry. He had already left, and Lauren felt both horrible and relieved about it. When he had asked about the beer, she had answered with a firm “No!” and had given him a pained expression that accurately reflected all the exasperation she felt at the moment. He obviously got the message and slipped out a few minutes later without a word to anyone.

What made her feel the worst was that this gathering represented her church. Instead of playing the role of the hospitality queen, she had done an “off with his head” number on someone who probably needed to connect with a group like this the most. At the same time, she didn’t appreciate that he had “dropped by” or that he had found her through the phone book. She decided right then and there to obtain an unlisted number.

Justin apparently sensed her frustration, especially when
she turned the music way down. And being the kind, counselor type, he came over to the couch, sat beside her, and quietly asked questions like: “Is everything okay?” “Did you know Garry was going to show up?” “How are you feeling?”

The minute a twinge of a smile graced Lauren’s lips, Justin crossed the room and engaged himself in a conversation with Amy. Lauren watched her, feeling jealous of how unencumbered Amy’s life appeared. She seemed free as a bird with a laugh to match. Lauren’s laugh used to sound like that. She would give anything to look like that and sound like that again.

It didn’t surprise Lauren that Justin left with the others. She didn’t expect him to stay and help clean up; although it would have been nice. He invited her to the leadership planning meeting on Monday night, which coincided with her night class, so she said she couldn’t make it. What she had hoped was that Justin would follow up with an invitation to do something over the weekend. She even considered inviting him to come back for dinner next weekend. The words never quite made it out of her mouth, and now he was gone.

She comforted herself with the possibility that she would see Justin at work during the week. Maybe he would stop by her teller window. Then it would be natural to invite him to dinner.

Gathering up the paper plates and empty soda cans around her apartment, Lauren began to feel lonely. The trash can under the sink was brimming by the time she stuffed the last of the paper plates into it. The slight smell of tuna fish from the salad lingered in the kitchen, making Lauren wish once again she had a kitten, a soft little creature to keep her company at times like this.

She took her time cleaning up and then began to file through her CDs, looking for something to cheer her up.
Before she could make a selection, the phone rang. It was Mindy.

“Wait till I tell you my outrageous idea for Leon’s surprise party on Saturday. This is by far going to be his best birthday ever! You don’t have plans for Saturday yet, do you?”

“No.”
Unless Justin wants to come for dinner
.

“Good. I want a bunch of people to meet at Jake’s—you know, that new tourist trap restaurant where they play old country music. I read in the paper today that this weekend they’re offering free meals if you come dressed up like a country-western singer. If we all come dressed up, it won’t cost us a thing! Except for Leon. I know he won’t come dressed up, but that’s okay.”

Lauren didn’t respond.

“Don’t you think it’s a great idea?”

“Sure.” She faked her enthusiasm.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t sound like it’s nothing.”

“It’s nothing.” Lauren didn’t want another sermon from Mindy, and she actually was glad Mindy was preoccupied and hadn’t thought to ask Lauren if she had called Jeff. “Tell me more about this wild party.”

Mindy dove into all the details she had worked out about their costumes, how they would go early, and how Leon’s buddy would drive him there so they could surprise him inside the restaurant.

“Sounds like fun,” Lauren said.

“What do you mean ‘fun?’ It sounds like the hoot of the year. You’ll help me pull it off, won’t you?”

“Sure, I’ll help.” Lauren wondered if she would regret her words.

After her conversation with Mindy, Lauren thumbed through a catalog and then decided to check her e-mail. The box on the computer screen showed she had one letter. It was from Brad. Still nothing from KC. Not that it should surprise her. He could still be in Egypt. Or, even more likely, after he had read her last goof-up letter requesting advice from Brad for his lovelorn sister, KC had probably chosen to end their brief but intriguing communication.

Brad’s letter read:

W
REN
, I’
M GLAD TO HEAR YOU

RE GOING OUT
. G
OOD FOR YOU
. P
LAY THE FIELD
. H
OLD OUT FOR A HERO
. I
DISAGREE WITH
M
INDY ABOUT CALLING
J
EFF TO GET CLOSURE
. Y
OU CAN HAVE PERSONAL CLOSURE WITHOUT EVER TALKING TO THE DONKEY AGAIN
. Y
OU HAVE TO DECIDE INSIDE YOURSELF THAT YOU

RE OKAY WITH THE RELATIONSHIP BEING OVER
. I
THINK YOU ALREADY ARE
.

D
ID
I
TELL YOU
I’
M TAKING PSYCHOTHERAPEUTIC SYSTEMS THIS SEMESTER
? C
AN YOU BELIEVE
I
EVEN KNOW HOW TO SPELL IT
? M
AYBE
I’
LL BE BETTER AT COUNSELING YOU AFTER THIS CLASS
.

H
OW GO YOUR CLASSES
?

R
AD

It felt good to be able to type back a message saying she hadn’t called Jeff and she agreed with Brad’s advice. Maybe she had experienced personal closure and didn’t realize it. Brad had a lot of insight into relationships for a guy who had remained unattached except for a girlfriend his senior year of high school. That relationship had lasted only for two
months—long enough to assure him of a date to the senior prom and short enough to remain unattached when it was time to go away to college.

More than once Lauren had tried to cook up a potential romance for him with one of her friends, but none of them had been right. Brad needed someone a little on the wild side yet settled. Lauren hadn’t yet met the right woman for Brad, and obviously neither had he. He wasn’t interested in even practicing his dating manners by going out with anyone. Brad told her last June that when the right woman, sent from heaven, walked into his life, he would know it.

As the week progressed, Lauren wished she had her brother’s confidence when it came to waiting on God for the right relationship. Justin seemed like such a great guy for her, and she wanted to pursue a relationship. However, as always, it took two to make a relationship.

She was obviously more willing than Justin. He waved at her from the lobby once on Wednesday and passed her in the parking lot in his sweet little “Mabel” on Thursday. When he didn’t stop by her teller window on Friday, Lauren decided to call him the minute she got home from work and invite him over for dinner. His answering machine responded to her call. She turned on all her charm at the sound of the beep.

“Hi, Justin. It’s Lauren. I guess you’ve been on the go all week. I wanted to thank you again for dinner at Clementine’s and for being such a patient listener. I also appreciated the way you helped me out with the lunch here last Sunday. I was wondering if you would let me thank you properly. I’d like to fix dinner for you sometime this weekend. Tonight is open for me. Or Sunday night. Nothing fancy. We could even rent a video or something if you would like. Give me a call when you have a chance. I hope it works out. Bye.”

“Well, that was pointless,” she told herself after hanging
up. “I’m sure I sounded desperate, saying I was free tonight.” She scanned the refrigerator and realized she was in great need of groceries. “What was I planning to fix if he said he could come over tonight?”

The last thing she felt like doing was going out again, especially for groceries. Especially if Justin called in time for them to make popcorn and watch a video.

Slipping into a pair of jeans, Lauren searched for the extra-large sweatshirt she had found at a thrift store. It said, “Don’t Mess With Texas.” Somehow it seemed like an appropriate thought for her this evening.

Scanning the refrigerator again, Lauren found a bagel, a can of Diet Coke, and a pint of gourmet ice cream in the freezer. Three unique dinner companions. She didn’t feel like watching TV. It wouldn’t hurt to get a jump on her reading for class. So drowning her loneliness in spoonful after spoonful of double fudge brownie, washed down with Diet Coke, Lauren read the first four chapters in her textbook.

Justin never called back.

She ate the bagel for dessert and went to bed.

Chapter Twelve

T
he next morning Lauren checked her e-mail again, hoping for a letter from KC. The computer spun through its mechanized movements, connecting her with the Internet and displaying her mail box. The number “1” appeared, indicating that a letter was waiting for her. She knew it was from KC:

D
EAR
W
REN
(
AKA THE
M
AD
E-M
AIL
B
OMBER
),

This was the first time he had used the term “dear.” Lauren read on, feeling wonderfully warm inside.

L
ET ME START BY SAYING YOU CERTAINLY MAKE FOR AN INTERESTING PEN PAL
. I
RETURNED FROM MY TRIP THIS AFTERNOON
,
AND OF ALL MY MESSAGES
,
YOURS WAS BY FAR THE ONE WORTH COMING HOME FOR
.

S
O NOW YOU MUST TELL ME
,
SINCE
I’
M INVOLVED IN THIS WHOLE AFFAIR
,
HOW DID THE DATE GO WITH
J
USTIN
? A
ND WHAT ABOUT
J
EFF
? D
ID YOU CALL HIM AS
M
INDY SUGGESTED
? A
ND
,
IF YOU DON

T MIND MY ASKING
,
IS BEING A VOLLEYBALL MANIAC A GOOD THING IN YOUR BOOK
? I
HAPPEN TO HAVE ONLY ONE SPORT
. W
ELL
,
MAYBE TWO
:
VOLLEYBALL AND GOLF
. I
F YOU HAVE AN AVERSION TO EITHER OF THESE NOBLE ATHLETIC ENDEAVORS
, I’
M AFRAID
I
MIGHT BE FORCED TO PUT A HALT TO OUR CORRESPONDENCE RIGHT HERE AND NOW
.

T
HE ACCIDENTAL OPENING OF YOUR HEART TO ME IS CERTAINLY NOT A REASON FOR ME TO STOP CONVERSING WITH YOU
. A
LACK OF INTEREST IN VOLLEYBALL MIGHT BE
.

P
EACE
, KC

BOOK: Echoes
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