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“Yes.” When I was with Zander, I was happy.
“Everything else will fall into place. Ace, I just want you to truly be happy.” His car was now stopped in front of my building.
I understood what Kieran was trying to tell me. I wanted him to be happy too. He has dated girls but has never been serious about them. I wanted him to find a girl who made him feel the way I felt about Zander. Time could only tell what would happen between Zander and me. But every timeI was with him, I felt a part of myself opening up. A part that I didn’t know existed inside of me.
Chapter Twelve
“What the mind wants, the heart, might not. What the heart wants, the mind, will.”
Zander
After football practice, I went straight to her apartment. Tonight was Wednesday. Homework night for Sedona. She had to be up early tomorrow. I still didn’t know how she did it. She was Ms. Brainiac and Ms. Busy Bee.
Nalee was lounging in the living room when I knocked. She had a big smile on her face when she saw the bag of Crabby’s burgers I was holding. I liked to bring them food. By our second date, I had figured out Sedona didn’t cook. She ate fruits, veggies, pre-packaged salads, and ready-to-heat items. Not that I was a master chef or anything, but I could whip up omelets and simple stuff like meatloaf and pasta. I had spent some time with my mom in the kitchen so I kind of knew my way around it.
My girl, though, was not meant for the kitchen. She looked aghast when I asked her to chop onions. It was quite funny. It was great that I really liked cooking for her and bringing food for her and her friends.
The way to their hearts was definitely through their stomachs.
Nalee was already eating away the fries before I excused myself to see what Sedona was up to.
I paused at the scene that greeted me in her bedroom. She was dressed in some flannel pajamas and a tight tank top. Her long, dark locks were pulled into a ponytail, and she was furiously writing on a very, thick book. Hoping not to break her concentration, I stepped in the room and sat on the bed.
It was not long before I figured something was wrong. Her shoulders were too tense, her spine ramrod straight. Granted, it was hard to break her concentration when she was really focused on something. This time, it was different, odd. She kept writing on the book, erasing and writing, erasing and writing. For 5 minutes, she hasn’t looked up. Normally, she would acknowledge my presence after a minute or two.
I slowly walked towards her and lightly touched her hair upon reaching her. I swiveled the chair she was sitting on so she could face me. Something was definitely going on. She finally noticed my presence and looked at me. Her eyes were turbulent, stormy. Her lips slightly shook. I pulled off the headphonesfrom her head, pried the book slowly from her hands, and carried her to the bed.
She didn’t say anything. She just hugged me tightly.
In a whisper, she said, “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a nurse.”
She was sitting on top of me and hugging me so I could not see her face. I untangled myself from the hug and kept my arms on her lower back.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“I’m just not,” she said sadly, “I think I’m going to change my major. Maybe accounting or something else. Numbers are better.”
I placed her hands on top of mine.
She continued, her eyes flickered with despair, “Numbers don’t go away; numbers don’t make you feel sad.”
“Whatever it is babe, you know you can tell me.” It pained me to see her struggle with whatever she was struggling with. She had always wanted to be a nurse. When we started dating, I saw her eyes got brighter, filled with determination, when she talked about this. This was her goal, her niche. She had always wanted to take care of people, help families, and be like the nurse who helped her when she had a broken ankle at the age of 5. Whatever happened today must have really shaken her to the core.
I lifted her chin and lightly caressed her arms, “Tell me what happened, babe.”
It labored her to take a deep breath, “Today,” she took another breath, “I was holding a little girl’s hand. Her parents died in a trail derailment.”
Shit. The train derailment was all over the news today.
Tears didn’t fall from her face. Her eyes were filled with angst, but she didn’t cry. I held her tightly against me. “Babe, I saw that in the news. That must’ve been so hard. I’m so sorry.” I ran my hands through her hair. Her ponytail loosened up.
She turned her cheek to the right and pressed closer to my chest.
“I stayed with her for a long time. Her name was Ara. I think she was about 5 years old. She was bruised, but only minor bruises. The ER nurses and doctors were busy attending to the injured victims. I saw her standing and crying on the side. A nurse asked me to stay with her after letting me know that the next of kin was already being notified.”
There were moments when silence was in itself, the answer. Or helped you arrive to the answer. I could only imagine how Sedona must’ve felt. How burdened with grief she was for the little girl. Words escaped me.
“When I lost my mom, I remembered my dad holding me,” she heaved, “I remember him telling me that she was going to heaven. I asked him if he could take me there, he said, ‘Not right now, my angel’.”
