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Authors: Patricia Chatman,P Ann Chatman,A Chatman Chatman,Walker Chatman

BOOK: Knowing Is Not Enough
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Three weeks passed with no word from Sanford or Easton.

I was pretty clear on why Sanford and I weren’t talking, but Easton—well, that one was a mystery. All I said was we needed to talk, which we did. I’d thought I had avoidance issues.

The wind woke me up from a sound sleep. I got out of bed and looked out the window.
It will be a cold Thanksgiving this year if this keeps up
. I got back into bed and cut on the television to check the weather to figure out how to dress for this wedding. The traffic was on—no news there. Weather on the twos, I think that’s the promotion. He started talking about the weather in California—
nobody really cares about what’s happening where they’re not at
. The weatherman didn’t seem to care what I thought, either. Finally Michigan, a high of fifty-four degrees—I might not freeze in a dress.

Either way, I had my information.

I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed the invitation, opened it and began reading to make sure I had
the time correct.
All right Mr. Johnson, one o’clock it is
. I snuggled back under the covers. I could afford to lie here a few more minutes before getting the day rolling.

I felt so comfortable I dozed off. When the doorbell vibrated throughout the house I didn’t want to move. I stared at the ceiling hoping whoever it was would go away. They didn’t. The bell rang−then it did again, until I was forced to get up.

“Who is it?” I yelled from the top of the stairs, praying I wouldn’t be compelled to go all the way down.

I heard a faint voice say, “It’s me, Tobey.”

Why is she here so early?
I hopped down the stairs and answered the door. A strong wind pushed her inside. “Why are you here so early?” I asked.

“It’s not early, it’s eleven o’clock.”

My eyes widened. “I only dozed off for a second,” I said as she took her coat and laid it across the couch. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not—were you in bed?”

I ran back up the stairs with Tobey following behind me. “I don’t even know what I’m wearing.” Inside my room I went straight for the closet. “It’s only eleven, slow down,” she advised.

I walked into the other room and sat down in one of the dressing-room chairs with Tobey in the adjacent one. “You look really pretty,” I said.

“Thank you. I can finally fit in a size ten again!”

“Why do you have on black? I thought black was bad luck.”

“At a wedding? I never heard that before.”

“If it’s not, then I’m wearing my black tube dress with some pearls and call it a day.”

I left Tobey in the dressing room, grabbed the dress and went into my room to take a shower. Afterward, I blew out my hair to wear it straight then met Tobey downstairs in the kitchen with almost a full hour to spare. She made coffee, which I was thankful for. “Will you know anybody besides Mr. Johnson at this thing?” she asked.

I took a sip from my cup. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well, we better get on the road if we want to beat the traffic.”

“What traffic? It’s Saturday.”

She poured her remaining coffee out in the sink. “I don’t know—
the
traffic. It’s a long way.”

I poured mine out too. “Girl, come on.” We put on our coats and walked outside on the front porch. “Where is your car?” I asked.

“I didn’t drive. Hunter dropped me off.”

“I would’ve warmed up the car if I’d known that.”

We both stood there on the front porch staring at one another. “Stop it,” she laughed. “You can be so lazy. I’m going to this thing for you remember.”

“Me? Lazy? Who keeps getting dropped off everywhere? Every since you got a man you can’t drive.”

Inside the car felt colder than it did outside. We waited, allowing time for it to warm up for a few minutes, then headed toward the church. “Have you heard from Jake?”

“Yeah, earlier this week.”

“How’s he doing? Did he get his mother’s stuff squared away?”

“For the most part—I went over Tuesday night and
helped him pack some of it. The rest he was donating.”

Tobey held her hands in front of the vents. “Do you think you and Jake could ever get back together?”

I took my eyes off the road for a split second to give her a well-deserved glare. “Are you joking?”

“It seemed like you two were getting along,” She raised her hands to surrender. “I’m just asking.”

“No. Getting along and back together is too very different things. We’re friends, Tobey. That’s it.”

“Maybe you think that’s it.”

“Jake has a girlfriend, so I’m not the only one who thinks that’s it.”

“Oh wow, didn’t know that.”

“Neither did I, until I met her.”

“He moves fast,” she commented, shaking her head.

I laughed. “Jake is Jake.”

We drove up a winding dirt road that ended on a hilltop. The church looked like a converted barn. There didn’t seem to be a clear parking lot. Cars were everywhere. “Is this it?” Tobey asked. She looked around at the guests. “I think so. The barn must be the church.”

“Yeah—this is the address.”

“Where is the reception at? In a farm house?”

“Girl!” I pretended to smack her hand. “Stop it and get out. I think I see everybody following that gravel path.”

The entire room was done up in holiday décor with the scent of pine, cinnamon and rosemary. We were seated at our table in sufficient time to take it all in. “I really like this,” Tobey said admiring the view. “Maybe me and Hunter should get married someplace like this.”

“I know—it’s probably even prettier when it snows.”
We got up to walk around before the ceremony started, out the back doors down a wooden bridge to the cathedral. Outside, I heard water streaming in the distance. Tobey pointed at another barn a little further off than we were. “Are those horses?”

Squinting, I tried to focus on what I thought I saw. “Yes, I think so. That over there looks like a sleigh.”

“Oh, Hunter and I have to come back up here. This is so pretty.”

“It wasn’t that far. What would you say? About an hour to get here?”

“Or a little less.” Tobey’s voice trailed off. Something else drew her attention.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to find the distraction.

She pointed at a couple in the distance. I followed her finger. “Look at that man,” she said. “I know I haven’t seen him in a while—but, I could swear that’s Easton.”

My stomach took a turn inside out. “You’re right—it’s him.”

“Who’s the woman with him?” she asked.

“I don’t know—his wife—maybe?”

“He’s headed this way, so we won’t have to guess for long.”

Easton kissed his date on the cheek before she vied off into the church. He continued walking toward us. “Maybe I should give you a minute,” Tobey said, as he got closer.

“Not necessary—you can stay.”

She reached for my hand gently squeezing it and whispered, “No thank you. I think I’m going sit this one out. See you inside.”

Tobey and Easton exchanged pleasantries as they passed one another. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.

“I could say the same for you.”

He pointed to the left then the right. “So, which is it—bride or groom?”

“Groom.”

He pointed at himself. “The bride.”

I smiled. “Look like we’re on the opposite side of each other, counselor.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he pointed out.

“No, I guess it wouldn’t.”

“So, what happened to my three-day phone call?” He placed his hands in his suit pants pockets. “I waited.”

“The phone works both ways.” I nodded in the direction of the church. “Doesn’t appear you waited long.”

“Everything is not always what it seems,” he said moving closer to me.

I put up my hand to block his approach. “Yeah, but then again, sometimes it is.” I leaned in to kiss his cheek and whispered in his ear. “You take care.” I walked back toward the church to give Easton time to be alone with his thoughts.

After the ceremony everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, including us sipping wine. Easton and his date left shortly after the ceremony, which led to me getting fifty million (a slight exaggeration) text messages and a few phone calls. None of which I responded to which seemingly disturbed Tobey just as much as it must have annoyed Easton.

“That buzzing is driving me nuts—give it here.” In search of Mr. Johnson I handed her the phone. Arnie, Mr.
Johnson and his wife Donna, re-entered the church just as the reception got under way.

I tapped Tobey. “I’m going to go say hello and meet his wife.” I left her at the table deep in the texted conversation Easton was having with himself. When I returned, I asked, “So, what did you learn, Scooby-Doo?”

She exhaled. “That Easton’s an idiot,” she said, “oh, and that was his wife.”

I rolled my eyes. “I figured as much.”

“That he’s an idiot?”

I laughed. “No, the wife part.”

She handed me back my phone. “You aren’t the least bit curious?” I opened my phone and held my finger on his first message until I prompted delete or save. I hit delete all messages.

“I guess not,” she said. “He wants to be your man, girl.”

“I already have a man—he just doesn’t know he’s my man yet.”

“Uh oh, are you ready to check out of Heartbreak Hotel?”

“Yup, I gave up my standing reservation.”

Tobey stood up and drank the rest of her wine. “That’s my girl.”

So the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept, then he took one of his ribs and closed up the flesh at that place. The LORD God fashioned into a woman the rib, which he had taken from the man, and brought her to the man. The man said, "This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh. She shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of man."

Genesis 2:22

Easton continued texting and calling throughout the following week. He went as far to stop by once, but to no avail. I was out on an appointment. His inability to comprehend the truth wasn’t my issue. I stated my position on the phone, then again via text. What we did—or didn’t—have is over. He’s in the friend zone, and I don’t have sex with my friends. I was in love, and no longer scared about the likelihood of getting my heart broken. I needed Sanford to know what was in my spirit and in my heart, and if by some small miracle he still felt
the same way, I planned to never leave his side.

My angels of mercy, Linda and Tobey, gave me a hint as to where Sanford would be for the evening. Ironically, it was the same place he’d brought me for the poetry reading. He sat alone at the far end of the bar doing the one thing nobody does at a bar—reading, with a sip of red wine remaining in his glass.

I sat down at one of the tables far from his line of sight, took off my coat and settled in. The server approached the table and took my order. I ordered myself a glass of wine and asked the server to send another of whatever Sanford was drinking over to him. I watched in the shadows as the bartender refilled Sanford’s glass. They exchanged a few words, then the server turned and pointed in my direction. I waved my hand and mouthed “Hello.” Sanford did the same accompanied with a smile.
Encouraging
. He picked up his book bag, slung it with his coat behind his back, grabbed his wine, book and headed to my table. I pulled out the chair for him.

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