Chapter Nine
“I’ll be right back.”
I sat at a small table near the window while he went to the counter to order our drinks. As I stared outside, I took in the people milling about on the street and sidewalk beyond the glass. Have you ever noticed that when something important is happening to you that life goes on for everyone else? Who knew what, if anything, was going on inside the heads of the many souls passing by. I entertained the thought for a moment, wondering at the expressionless faces. Were they happy, sad, broken-hearted, or newly in love? The questions distracted me from the range of feelings that had risen inside. From the moment I had accepted this invitation, my heart had quickened from its formerly monotonous pace. For months I had gone through the motions of everyday life, trying to adjust to my new routine. Now the beats were doubling and had done so from the moment that this man had motioned for me to lead the way to the tiny bistro area inside the bookstore. I wanted to watch him as he got our coffees, but I didn’t want him to catch me staring. Turning my attention elsewhere seemed the safest thing to do.
“Here we go.”
He put the cup down on the table in front of me. The fifties-style furniture had a soda shop feel to it and the table top was a combination of red and tan with a swirl type of pattern. I traced the design with my eyes as I worked up my courage.
“I’m Jared.”
Jared. The sound of his voice caused butterflies to take flight around my insides. He smiled. I looked up at his face and felt the warmth creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. My heart lightened as our eyes connected. What is it when you feel like you’ve met someone before? That the meeting might have been destiny? Déjà vu? Kismet? It was the craziest feeling. One I couldn’t quite put into words. Nonetheless, the connection was there. It was as if somehow we were tethered. Apprehension fell from my shoulders and faded away. Emotion—real emotion—blossomed. Not lust. I was inquisitive. I was excited. I was open to the possibilities that a new friendship promised. For months I had reigned in my feelings. I had shut down the crying. I had hidden my emotions so well that they were nearly invisible. Everyone who mattered to me thought that I was fine, but was that true? What I knew for sure was that I had gotten better at hiding my pain, and as a result, it had thickened my walls of deception. When people asked me how I was, I always answered with a four-letter word. F-I-N-E. But now, months later, sitting across from this man, I smiled and it was genuine. I felt it all the way from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
“I’m Hope.” I extended my hand and he took it. The connection was instantaneous. Contentment wafted like smoke until it filled me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Hope.” His eyes traveled the perimeter of the store. “Come here often?”
I nodded. “As much as I can. I don’t get the opportunity to get away much, so I read. I travel the world through books.”
“But actually seeing the world is a whole new experience. Your imagination isn’t capable of giving you the same feelings. For instance, you can imagine a dark sky with a million stars, but seeing them from a place that has no light pollution will surely take your breath away.”
His comment piqued my interest. “Sounds like you know what you’re talking about.”
He nodded. “I do. I’ve traveled most of the world, but not all of it. Whenever business takes me somewhere new, I try to make side trips to sample the culture. Sometimes it's just sightseeing, but I like to try the local cuisine or go somewhere to listen to music. A little mix of business with pleasure is a good thing.”
As he spoke, I imagined what a black sky would look like with a million sparkling crystals. Suddenly the oppressive dark cloud that had hovered over me began to dissipate. I felt lighter. Until this very moment I hadn’t realized how I had almost allowed my pain and hurt to define me. They were twin dragons and I had allowed them to sink their talons into me so deeply that by the end of the day I was exhausted and fell into bed. Perhaps the problem was with me. I had familiarized myself and identified with every shade of gray and white for nearly two years and all they had presented me with were feelings of sorrow. I had given them permission to color my life so that it had become dull and emotionless. Although it was impossible to bring back the part of me that I had lost and the man that I had loved, I knew that if I chose to stay in that dark place I would cease to exist. How crazy was it that a glance, a smile, and a simple cup of coffee would remind me that there were other colors. Brilliantly shaded emotions could paint every scene that lived inside of twenty-four-hour increments. Hues of red, blue, purple, green, and more were within my reach. All I had to do was have faith enough to touch them.
I forgot time as it passed. The conversation between Jared and me exposed little nuggets of our lives. With each moment, we learned a little more about each other. I came to the realization that releasing my pain didn’t dismiss any precious memories of my life with Judge. I had allowed the lines of my life to be colored in by a black crayon, leaving no light visible beneath its opaque weight. It had almost smothered any beauty that remained. Suddenly, I craved color. Even though gray and white had been present in parts of my life, I now desired to dwell among the more vibrant shades. There was still so much promise to be found in the colors of Hope. I was determined to find it.