OrYou and Lincoln should take your show on the road. Friendly teasing to reassure him I don’t hold any hard feelings. How can I, after he pranced around the office like a graceless gazelle, flailing around with such confidence? Never once did he appear as if he’d do anything to escape. Helookedawkward, but nothing in his countenance said he felt uncomfortable with his inelegance. How was that even possible?
He’d stolen the breath right from my lungs the moment he’d tiptoed center stage. For starters, I’ve never seen so much of Jeremy before. Glimpses of his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves is the extent of skin he normally shows. Who knew he’s been hiding such a toned body beneath all his oxford-style dress shirts? But besides the revelation that I’m even more physically attracted to Jeremy than I originally thought, what really mademy heart pinch is the fact that he was there because of me. He made a spectacle of himself ... for me.
Maybe I should be glad the lines of communication between my brain and mouth were momentarily severed. At least I didn’t say something I’d regret. Like:I’ll be thinking about this moment for the rest of my life.Or:I could easily fall in love with you.Or even more horrifying:I might already be halfway there.
My pulse quickens just thinking such a thing, and I place my hand on my chest, my heart pounding beneath my palm. My fingers shake, so I close them into a fist.
I hate this feeling. This jittering of nerves that overtakes me. How can I ever tell Jeremy about my growing feelings for him if I can’t even respond to his apology when he’s standing in front of me?
If only I weren’t such a train wreck.
I press my back to the wall and slide down until I’m sitting on the hard concrete floor. Like a coward, I’m hiding in the stairwell. I’ve descended two levels and am tucked into an alcove between the seventh and sixth floors. If Jeremy or Keri come looking for me, they won’t be able to see me here. Hopefully they’ll assume I went outside for some fresh air.
I take my phone out of my pocket and open the Bible app even though I have the particular verse I want to read memorized. My screen fills with the words from Philippians.
Do not be anxious about anything,
I close my eyes. Take a deep breath in through my nose. Will the swirling chaotic thoughts in my head to still. My erratic pulse to quiet.
Nothing changes. I open my eyes and continue reading.
but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your request to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
I close my eyes again. This time in prayer.
Lord, please hear my cry like you did David’s. He called toYou for help, and You healed him. Heal me frommy anxiety around people like You healed the woman You called daughter. I know You can, God. I have faithas she did. I know I have no reason tofear because You’re with me and have promised to strengthen, help, and uphold me. I’m asking for thatnow. Give me the peace You promise so my heartdoesn’t give way to trouble or fears. I knowI can’t do it alone or in my own power, so I’m asking, I’m begging, please releaseme from my anxious thoughts and feelings and make me whole.
I wait a moment and then open my eyes, only slightly disappointed at not feeling any differently than I did before I prayed. I always hope I’ll experience a surge of power coursing through my body like the woman with the issue of blood must have. I’m not sure how God measures faith, but He must not think I have enough yet because He hasn’t answered this particular prayer of mine. No matter how many times I’ve prayed it.
A door above me opens and closes. I hold still. Embarrassment clings to me that I ran away. If the person in the stairwell is Jeremy, I don’t know what I’ll say to him.
The sound of feet on steps gets louder. I look up and breathe a sigh when first Keri’s ankle boots come into view, then her full swing skirt.
“There you are,” she says.
“Here I am.”
She takes a seat beside me. “So, that was a crazy performance up there.”
“Sure was.”
“Want to talk about it?”
I inspect my fingernails. I can’t look at Keri. Her voice has taken on that soft, compassionate quality that always makes a lump form in my throat. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Well.” She drags out the word. “From my perspective, there are two things that could have you holing up down here. One,Jeremy’s production rivaled your Christmas tree, and you’re fretting about losing the promotion and raise. On top of that, you’re now worrying about how you’ll pay for your mom’s care.”
Gah, I hadn’t even thought of that.
“Or,” she continues, “you see Jeremy’s performance as a grand gesture on scale with Heath Ledger serenading Julia Stiles in10 ThingsI Hate About You.”
I pick at my cuticle. “Why would you think his dance had anything to do with me?”
Her stare burns the side of my head. “Girl, he literally only had eyes for you. Did you not notice how he used you as a focal point when he did those awful pirouettes?” She makes a humming sound as she studies me. “I thought so.” After a moment, she asks, “What did you say when he came over to talk to you?”
I give a self-derisive snort. “I said, and I quote, ‘I’ve got to go.’ Then I turned and literally ran away.”
“Oh, honey.” She wraps her arms around me.
