Chapter 23
Destiny
“The best time for your dreams to come true is when you’re wide awake.”
~ Grandma Dixie
“Where is it?” I asked in a panic to the only other living soul in my apartment.
His only response was a dismissive flick of his tail and a one-eyed glare—he did not know and he did not care.
“I can hear it. Where is it?” I repeated as I rummaged through my oversized purse in search of my phone.
The towel that I had haphazardly wrapped around my wet hair as I’d rushed out of the shower to answer the call I heard coming in slipped off my head. It landed in my purse, which acted as an obstacle in locating my device.
I snatched the terrycloth material up, and threw it across the room, nearly hitting Captain Pickles in the backside. Thankfully, he jumped off the sofa before he was pummeled.
The entire scene felt like I was living out my very own I Love Lucy moment.
“Sorry,” I apologized to my cat, who was now halfway down the hall heading straight for the sanctuary of the bedroom.
On any other day, being unable able to locate my phone would not have caused me anxiety, but today was different. Today, Cara was seeing her doctors to go over her latest round of test results. And today, if her tests were clear, it would mark a five-year milestone, which would move her from “in remission” to “cancer-free.” My hands continued their search-and-rescue mission as I glanced at the clock. Time: eight forty-five. Cara’s appointment was not until nine. So questions began flying around my brain like monkeys in the Wizard of Oz.
Did that mean she’d gotten in early?
If they had seen her early, was that a good or a bad sign?
Were they so excited to give her the good news that they had to see her?
Or was it so bad that they didn’t want to keep her waiting?
“No!” I called out as my phone went silent, meaning I had missed the call. “Ugh! This is exactly why I wanted to go and be there,” I mumbled to myself as I dumped the contents of my bag onto the white-and-black-tiled kitchen floor and scrambled to find my phone.
Cara had insisted that Harmony and I not go with her to the doctor that morning. Which we were not okay about. But she said she didn’t want to make a big deal of it. Instead, her older brother Colton was taking her—but not because she’d wanted him to, either. She hadn’t. But he’d played the big-brother card and she’d begrudgingly allowed him to go. Harmony and I had tried to play the best-friend card, but apparently, only one card could be played and Colton had beaten us to it.
Part of being a good friend was knowing when to hold ’em and when to fold ’em. Cara had had so little control over so much of her life during the past decade that both Harmony and I knew, when she put her foot down, she had to have that control. Especially when it came to matters of her health.
So, even though it was killing both of us, we’d relented and stayed home instead of going into Dallas with her to see her oncologist.
“Oh!” I exclaimed when I saw the corner of my red iPhone cover just as the ding of a message sounded. I pressed the listen icon without checking number. My heart was pounding as I held the phone to my ear.
“Destiny, this is Mr. Crawford…”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared down at it. The message had indeed come from the bank. Once I’d paused the message, I checked my call log, but I hadn’t missed any incoming calls from Cara or Colton. The only call I’d missed had been from the bank.
Apparently, I needed more than one cup of coffee to have enough brain cells to function today. It’d taken my fuzzy mind way too many steps to put those events together.
In my defense, I hadn’t slept at all last night, and as sad as it was to admit, it didn’t have anything to do with my best friend’s life-altering appointment. I wished that were it. That would’ve made me a much better person than I actually was.
But no, the reason I hadn’t slept last night—or the night before or the night before-the night before—was because of one thing and one thing only: my overactive hormonal reaction to the fact that JJ Briggs was within a five-mile radius of where I laid my head to sleep. No matter how hard I tried, just knowing that he was home equated to my developing Vicinity-Induced Lust Insomnia. Yep. I was suffering from V.I.L.I. Which, as far as I knew, was not a medically recognized condition, but if it was up to me, it would be.
Since JJ had shown up a few days ago, every night when I closed my eyes, all I could think about was that he was just a phone call, text, or short jog away. Each night, all of my senses were hyperaware that, at any moment, he could call, text, or show up at my door. That knowledge made it physically impossible to sleep. So, instead, I tossed and turned, wishing he would call, text, or—fingers crossed—show up at my door. Then, wanting those things to happen would frustrate me and work against my desperate attempt to fall asleep. This vicious cycle was not conducive to getting my eight hours in.
Closing my eyes, I scooted back and leaned against the wall separating the kitchen from the front room as exhaustion pulled at me. Something had to give. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could endure this. Especially because my body had been wound tighter than a bun on a prima ballerina since JJ had used Dolly’s fried chicken to bribe me into going on the picnic yesterday.
The kiss we’d shared before Mr. Rogers had interrupted us had been more than just a kiss. It had been erotic. Explosive. Epic. And it wasn’t just the out-of-this-world kiss that had me tied up in knots. It was that, between the time we’d spent together talking—well, I’d talked and he’d listened—and the time we’d spent with Gram, all the reasons my heart had only had one owner solidified like freshly poured concrete on a hot day.
I didn’t only love JJ because he could kiss like a rock star, was sexier than sin, funnier than most stand-up comedians, and had DIY-fix-it skills to rival MacGyver. No, the things I loved the most about JJ were intangible. I loved the way JJ looked at me like the sun rose and set in my eyes. I loved the way he listened to me when I rambled on and on. I loved the way his lips curled up at the edges at my reaction every time he riled me up, like I was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. I loved the way my hormones spring-loaded like he was scissors and I was curling ribbon when he brushed up against me. And the thing I loved the most about him was the way he sighed and kissed the top of my head every time he hugged me like I was precious, treasured, loved.
I had to face the facts: What I felt for JJ wasn’t just a crush. It wasn’t puppy love. It was real. So, now, all I had to do was figure out how to get over it. Yes, JJ had a house in Wishing Well now, but he was still a professional baseball player. I’d heard enough stories, watched enough reality shows like Basketball Wives and Real Housewives to see what a relationship with an athlete was like.
No. Thank. You.
Not that JJ had said, or even hinted, that he wanted a relationship with me. Yes, he’d sent me flowers and taken me out on a picnic, but he hadn’t exactly given me his letterman jacket. We weren’t “going steady.” We weren’t even dating.
My phone buzzed in my hand. The number that popped up indicated it was the bank again.
“Hi, Mr. Crawford,” I answered. “Sorry. I was just about to call you back.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I was actually calling you again because I’m not available this afternoon after all and I was wondering if you could come in to sign before ten.”
“Sign?” I asked.
“Yes. Didn’t you get my message?”
“Um, no…yes,” I said, stumbling over my words. Sleep. I definitely needed sleep. “I mean, I haven’t had a chance to listen to it.”
“Oh, well, then let me tell you the good news. Congratulations! Your loan has been approved through a private lender with more favorable terms and a lower interest rate than the original lender.”
I’d heard his words, but I couldn’t process them. My entire body went numb. My head was filled with white noise like a rushing river.
“What?” I breathed, not able to find my voice.
“You have the small business loan. All you need to do is come down and sign the paperwork. Does ten work for you?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Then my phone beeped from an incoming call, which snapped me out of my momentary mime impression.
“Yes. I’ll be there. Thanks.”
Just as I was about to switch over, Mr. Crawford’s voice came through the speaker.
“Oh, and one more thing. Did you have anything to do with the retirement? I only ask because there is a pool going around the bank.”
“A pool? Retirement?” I repeated.
“JJ’s retiring. It’s all over the news.”
What?! No. That couldn’t be right. He hadn’t said anything at Gram’s or at the picnic. He couldn’t be retiring. Could he? Why would he do that? He’d said his shoulder was “as good as new.” He wouldn’t have lied about that. Would he?
My mind was on information overload, and my phone was still buzzing. “I have to go, Mr. Crawford. I’ll see you soon.”
As I clicked over, my hands were shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the loan or the news about JJ though—or both.
“Hello,” I was able to say through the tornado of confusion spinning in my head.
“Des?” Cara’s voice was small.
My heart clenched in my chest. “Yeah.”
“Okay, she’s on. Now, tell us what they said?” Harmony rushed her words, her voice strained.
“They said…” Cara’s voice trailed off, and it was tight like she was on the verge of crying.
Oh no. No. No. No. It couldn’t be. This could not be happening. Not again. She’d been so close to this being behind her.
“Care bear, I’m here.” My voice cracked as tears filled my eyes. “I’m here.”
“Whatever it is, we’ve got this. We’ve got you,” Harmony assured her, sounding stronger than I was sure she was feeling. “So just tell us, tell us what they said.”
“I’m cancer-free,” Cara spoke so quietly, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right when she repeated. “They said…I’m cancer-free.”
The moisture that had pooled in my lower lids now fell freely down my face. I couldn’t do anything but cry as a smile so wide I was surprised it didn’t crack my cheeks, spread across my face. Harmony whooped and hollered and declared that we were going out to celebrate by having a girls’ day out.
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but sit in my kitchen, pull my knees to my chest, and cry. The loan, JJ—none of that compared to this. Cara had won the battle she’d been fighting for the last decade. Nothing in the world was better news than that.
Not even if JJ declared his undying love to me…but, that would be a close second.