Page 6 of Falling for the Hotshot

“She hasn’t decided if she’s calling yet. She felt a few flutters. If only there was a doctor in the family that we could ask what to do!” This was it. This moment in time was when I hit rock bottom. My breaking point. I couldn’t take any more of this nonsense.

“You all realize that Ray left me for another woman, right? That this wasn’t my fault. And maybe...” I paused, saying a brief prayer for God to hold my tongue, to clamp my mouth shut with the jaws of life if He had to, to have a hurricane Sharknado come rip the roof off of our house to end this conversation immediately before I said something disrespectful back to my parents, even if they did technically deserve it. I sighed. “If you wanted a doctor in the family, either of you could have married one.”

My mom stood, frozen in time, with her back to me. I knew she couldn’t turn to face me. We didn’t have the kind of relationship where she ever owned up to her rudeness. We didn’t have the regular bond of parents who love their children who love their parents. Not to say I didn’t love them; in my own way, sure. But most of the time, it was like this. In fact, the only time we’d ever had a decent, or dare I say good report going, was after I started dating Ray. Like suddenly they saw they had a second chance at success looming in the wings, if only they could marry their daughter off to the man she met at church. The pastor whom they loved. The pastor whom they had been attending for years, who had a son away at a prestigious boarding school this whole time, funded by his wealthy grandparents in Montana, because everyone in the family believed he was some sort of savant. Gifted from a young age. Destined to be something huge. And then, he went to college. Completed a fabulous program, came home one summer and decided to attend the church potluck that I was also attending. The rest is history. Truly history, as I wanted to leave it behind me now. Leave it in the past, like our relationship.

“I just want it on the record that I couldn’t feel any more humiliated or depressed about it. I didn’t know that this level of disappointment existed. So, before you think that you are discovering despair for the first time in human history, I’d like you to consider that I have feelings. And I am the one it happened to.” Okay, not my best work playing the victim card. But sometimes with parents who couldn’t see anything outside themselves, it was the only thing they recognized.

I promptly headed out of their front door and into my car. Stalling while I fumbled to work the seatbelt. In my greatest fantasy, they would run out, lie on the hood of my car, and cry out multiple apologies for their shallow behavior. For not recognizing that I was grieving. I was the one who was starting over. That Ray was the biggest jerk on the face of the earth. But they didn’t come. The front door remained shut tight. The old wooden shutters on their home didn’t even move—the ones that now had no hope of being replaced, as I was also not marrying a handyman. I pulled out of the driveway and headed back to my little apartment above a laundromat.

Chapter 8

The View from Above

Autumn

The thing no one warns you about living above a laundromat has got to be the fact that every time I walk through my front door, the sound from the dryers and heavy scent of the fabric softener start lulling me to sleep almost immediately. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is; it doesn't matter what time of year. I walk in, hear the calming sounds of clothes tumbling, and I feel sleepy.

Today was no different in that respect. I felt instantly fatigued. I kept telling myself that I needed to find a better place to live. This place was very affordable, however, and on a church secretary salary, even working six days a week, I couldn’t afford to be that choosy.

Instead of letting myself be lulled by the comforting laundry happening downstairs, it was imperative that I started packing. Everything was in motion, and nothing could stop the wheel from rolling down the hill. I opened the windows to get some fresh air, instantly feeling the effects of the sleep-inducing Downy wearing off.

In my small hallway closet, I pulled out my suitcase and duffle bag, the only luggage I owned. What does one take to a fire tower, I wondered? The chances of me seeing people on the day-to-day were slim, thankfully. Still, standing in front of my tiny bedroom closet, I was paralyzed with choices. I started by grabbing my favorite jeans and a couple button-up western shirts. Just because I wasn’t being seen, didn’t mean I couldn’t feel my best, right? I then took some casual items, just in case. Well, reporting for work in sweatpants, no matter the job, just felt wrong in some way. In fact, I decided that dressing in frumpy sweatpants would only make things worse for me, so I removed those from my duffle.

The best thing about living above a laundromat? All of my clothes smelled clean. Everything in my apartment smelled clean. People always said they could smell me coming, like I’d just been pulled out of the dryer.

As I packed, I skimmed over my jewelry box. I couldn’t see much of a reason to take anything to a fire tower, but I still picked out my favorite pair of earrings. If anything, it would be nice to have them just in case. As my eyes scanned the rings, my heart stopped as I landed on the small diamond ring that Ray gave me. It wasn’t a family heirloom, and he didn’t ask for it back. I couldn’t imagine it cost him very much, either. As I stared at the simple gesture, part of me considered throwing it into the ocean. Just one problem living in Wyoming—I was in a landlocked state with no ocean around. But perhaps I could’ve found a nice, deep, dark lake to toss it into. As I put the ring in the small, zippered compartment of my suitcase reserved for jewelry, I wondered if I was just not ready to let go of it yet, and that was why I was bringing it with me. I shook that thought away, not ready to deal with that, either.

After I was done packing, I made a few phone calls. The first, to let my landlord know I’d be on an extended work trip. The second, to ask my neighbor to hold any mail that the mail forwarding failed to forward to my parents’ house. Not that I wanted them collecting my mail, but I didn’t see how I could exactly get mail delivery in a tower. The last call I didn't actually make. I just pretended to make it. I opened up Ray’s contact on my phone, riddled by the picture I took of him smiling on one of our pre-engagement dates. He was so charming. So full of love. Instead of wondering if any of it was real, I deleted the photo of him. Then, staring at the little graphic that looked like a Lego person, I told my phone everything I wished I could have said to Ray. Which turned out, was more than I thought.

“Ray, you hurt me. You embarrassed me. But...” I paused, always trying to look for an upside to every situation. When I came up short, I finally realized what would have been worse. “I’m thankful you did it before the wedding. Before we walked down the aisle. Before Grandma had to take the trip on the Greyhound bus. If it was during our vows… I can’t imagine that level of betrayal I’d feel.” As I spoke, I felt part of myself letting go of it. But, just as I did, the feelings came rushing back. Not just feelings of hurt, but feelings for Ray. I couldn’t just turn it off overnight.

There were things that helped ease the pain, though. The upcoming change of scenery. Though it felt frightening to imagine actually being alone in the wilderness, it excited me. The thought of something new and the journey it would take me on gave me the much-needed distraction that I craved. I knew I was going to face all of these feelings immensely when I was actually there. Actually living in solitude. But right now, the winds were shifting, and I felt something new.

*****

Zipping up my duffel back, I walked back over to my suitcase as I considered the logistics of taking a roller bag up a steep set of stairs to the tower I’d be living in. As I contemplated whether or not there would be a bell hop to assist me with my luggage, my phone buzzed in my back pocket. As I looked at the name flashing across the screen, I was filled with a mix of joy and dread, which summed up my life at the moment.

“Hey, Jane.” I greeted my longest friend, whom I’d known all of my life. While we didn’t speak often, we always picked up right where we left off. We were neighbors growing up, and while my parents still lived in the same house, hers moved away to a warmer climate. To a neighborhood with sidewalks and functional streetlamps. To a world of affluent families with golf clubs in the back seats of their convertibles. Jane was always shy about the fact that her parents became successful, considering I didn’t come from money, but I always told her it didn’t matter to me. It truly didn’t. All I’d ever wanted in life was love. And I knew from a young age, I had no bonds to my parents. They just weren’t capable of giving me the kind of affection that I craved. So, I turned to Jesus, and in Him, I’d found everything I needed. And right now, I was leaning on Jesus a lot more than usual.

“A little birdy told me something,” Jane dropped, without even saying hello.

“If you think that the birds are talking to you, you might need to get an MRI, Jane.”

“Oh, come on. You know Rebekah is my cousin.” Rebekah… from church. Who volunteered every week with her charming husband who was completely head over heels for her. Yep, I knew her. I did momentarily forget that literally everyone in my life was connected through marriage, blood, or kindergarten friendships, however, and I had zero chance of doing anything with an ounce of anonymity.

“Okay, so, it must be true then.” I could hear Rebekah rolling her eyes as she groaned.

“It’s not a bad thing! Look, I’m sorry. I started this off wrong. How are you?” A little late for that question, as I rolled my suitcase, with the large duffel bag on top of it, over to my front door.

“I’m swell. Just about to take a cruise around the world, where perhaps I’ll meet an Indiana Jones type of guy that can open locks with shoelaces.”

“You mean MacGyver," Jane said in a whisper. I couldn’t even be sarcastic without getting corrected today. Great.

“Look, I want to chat, but I’m a little tied up at the moment, and—” she cut me off.

“I heard you are leaving for a job in a fire tower, and I just wanted to tell you that I think this sounds really adventurous.” Her words were rapid fire. I felt my defense mechanism disarming as finally, someone approved of my life choices.

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.”