Paige Torn (28 page)

I leave work on Friday and drive straight to a local barbecue place. Who am I kidding — I won't be able to eat out until Christmas, but at least I am going out on a good note. I buy a huge container of shredded beef doused in the infamous sauce, a package of rolls, coleslaw, baked potatoes, creamed corn, and two gallons of sweet tea.

We do picnics right here in Texas.

Layla is pulling up to the park just as I am.

“And the weather is even supposed to be gorgeous!” she squeals, getting out of her car without even a hello.

“Hello.” I grin at her.

“Hi. So, I think this is a good idea,” she says, coming over to my car and tucking a stray strand of hair back into her bun. She looks adorable. She is wearing jeans, a flowing pastel-pink tank top, and a light blue cardigan. Her hair is in a low bun and she has a headband on.

If I dressed like that, I'd look like a commercial for Easter candy, but Layla is my friend who can pull off anything. It causes both admiration and envy.

But I'm getting over it. Sort of.

I hand Layla the barbecue and pick up the box with all the sides. “We'll have to come back for the tea.”

“Good grief, Paige, how many of us are there going to be tonight?”

“Layla, boys eat a lot.” A lot more than I ever imagined. I watched Tyler polish off his dinner, a slice of my pizza, a salad, and half the dessert at dinner the other night. Now I know why Natalie was always complaining about her grocery bills after she married Rick.

Layla just mumbles something under her breath.

I walk across the grass to the gazebo and set the box down. “So.” I stand, hands on my hips. “What's the plan of action?”

“Well, the biggest thing is going to be letting people who come by know that we are reserving the gazebo, the big open space right there, and the area by the parking lot.” Layla sets the barbecue beside the box and points out the area she is talking about.

“The band will be performing in here, and the dance floor will be right there.” She points to the area right below the gazebo. “The tables for the food will be along that side of the dance floor, and then I've got tables coming for people to eat at.”

I nod. “This is going to be beautiful, Layla.”

“I hope so. I picked up a bunch of twinkle lights at the dollar store this week. Want to help me wrap the gazebo while we wait for the boys?”

We spend the next ten minutes working on some of the gazebo, though I spend more time swiping away cobwebs with a napkin than wrapping lights around the posts. Tyler shows up right at six wearing athletic shorts and a University of Texas T-shirt.

“I have a ladder I could have brought.” He watches us stand on the benches that line the gazebo walls.

This particular gazebo always makes me want to burst out into “You are sixteen going on seventeen,” from
The Sound of Music
.

But I refrain tonight. We want Tyler to stay, after all, and my voice isn't known for causing gasps of enraptured awe.

Layla shrugs. “Eh. We can stand on the benches for now. I've got my uncle bringing in some other lighting for the dance floor tomorrow, and I bet he'll have a ladder with him. We can finish putting up all these little twinkle lights everywhere then.”

Peter pulls up and gets out of his car. He pockets his keys in his Nike shorts and walks over. Layla waves from on top of the bench. “Hi, honey!”

“Hey,” Peter says, smiling shortly at her.

“Hi, Peter.” Tyler reaches his hand out to shake Peter's. “How was your day?”

Peter shrugs and watches us work on the lights for a minute.

I will take that as, “Eh, it was okay.”

I guess Tyler decides to do the same because he shrugs and turns back to us. “What can I do for you guys?”

“There's a big blanket in my trunk for us to use during dinner.” I dig my keys out of my pocket and toss them to Tyler. “And a grocery sack with plates and cups and stuff. If you will grab those things, we can eat while it's still mildly warm.”

Tyler nods and walks across the grass to my car. He comes back a few minutes later, and Layla announces that she is starving and it's time to eat.

Tyler says a quick prayer for us, and then we load up our plates and sit in a circle on the blanket on the grass. It really is a beautiful night. The sun is starting to fall and the humidity level is dropping. The guys will have a nice night here.

Thank goodness all my fears about rain have been wrong.

“So, I have prepared a spreadsheet.” Layla wipes her mouth with a napkin and digs in her back pocket.

“Oh boy,” I say, rolling my eyes. Layla is Queen of Last-Minute Organization. The second we are almost done with something is when she will spend eighty hours writing up an organizational chart.

It made studying with her in high school migraine inducing.

“Relax, Paige. It's just a list of everything that needs to be done tomorrow, and see? It even has a little box next to each item to write a little check mark in.” She smiles proudly at her three-page list. “I am on top of things.”

“Eating those motivational mints again?” I ask her.

“Spearmint.” She nods.

“What time will you guys be back in the morning?” Tyler asks, finishing off his barbecue sandwich.

I look over at Layla, who shrugs. “I was thinking around seven,” she says. “We'll come and start getting stuff set up and y'all can go home and sleep or shower or whatever and then maybe around twoish you can come back and watch the park while Paige and I go shower and get ready.”

“What time does the party start?” Peter asks.

“Five,” Layla says.

Layla's parents are coming at six. It is all falling together. I look up at the darkening sky and then at my watch. It's seven thirty. That gives us an hour and a half to do the dinner Layla has catered and then plenty of time afterward to dance by the light of the twinkle lights and whatever lighting her uncle is bringing.

It is going to be beautiful.

Layla finishes her dinner and lies back on the blanket, looking up at the sun-streaked sky. “Jesus, please keep it from raining tomorrow.”

“Amen.” I nod.

“And please help Aunt Wendy to remember that it's a surprise party and not tell my parents, and please help her arrive sober so she won't hit on Peter and Tyler.”

“Amen,” both the boys say simultaneously.

I bite back a grin and lie back next to Layla. Layla's Aunt Wendy is one of those women who is ridiculously fun but also really needs Jesus and really doesn't get that.

We are all quiet for a few minutes. It is very peaceful in the park right now, lying on my back, the grass soft under the blanket, the sun slowly dipping behind the trees. A few birds are singing and I hear one early cicada whirring in the trees.

I could fall asleep right here.

I close my eyes and yawn. Today has been another good day. I went to work, did some stuff on the banquet, and spent two hours talking to three people about the adoption process on the phone.

One lady ended up crying right before we hung up. “Thank you so much,” she sniffled. “My husband and I have been trying to have children for six years. You are the first glimmer of hope I've had that maybe we'll someday have a baby.”

I almost joined her in crying.

I open my eyes and look over at Layla. She is staring up at the sky, curling a tendril of hair around and around her finger.

It occurs to me then that all of us are waiting for something, just like that lady. I am waiting for life to calm down. Layla is waiting for this party to be over so she can then start waiting to marry Peter. And I'm sure the guys are waiting for something as well.

Tyler lies back on the blanket a foot away from me. “So,” he says, staring up at the sky. “What are you thinking about?”

I look over at him. “What are you waiting for?”

“What?”

“In life. What are you waiting for?”

He looks up at the sky again, expression thoughtful. He has a slight blond fuzziness on his face from not shaving recently, and the sky makes his eyes very blue.

It suddenly hits me that Tyler is a very attractive guy.

“I don't know,” he says slowly, a few minutes later, still looking at the sky. “A promotion. Marriage. Kids. Football season to start up again.”

I smile at the last one.

“Why?” He turns his head to look at me.

I shrug. “Just a conversation I had with a lady today. She and her husband have been trying six years to have kids.”

“Wow,” Layla says. “That's a long time. Are they going to adopt?”

I nod. When we hung up, I scheduled her for an initial meeting with Peggy. “What are you waiting for, Layla?” I ask, even though I already know.

“Short term?” She turns her head toward me. “I'm waiting for the stars to come out. Long term? I'm waiting until I get married so I can cut my hair short with no regrets.”

I laugh. Tyler grins.

“What are you waiting for, Peter?”

“Layla.”

One word, which is typical of him, but I actually like his answer. I smile.

“How about you, Paige?” Tyler asks.

I look up at the sky. For a long time, I've been waiting for life to slow down, make sense, have a purpose. I am waiting to become a real counselor, not just a secretary. At some point I want to get married, but that thought scares me more than excites me at the moment. I am waiting for life to turn out like I always imagined it would as a little girl.

It strikes me while I lie there on the grass, staring up at the darkening sky, surrounded by my best friend, someone who is quickly becoming another great friend, and Peter, that I am completely happy. I'm not stressed. I'm not thinking about what my next ten minutes will hold.

Maybe I've been waiting for this.

“I don't know,” I say, taking the easy way out rather than trying to put all my jumbled thoughts into words.

“Wimp.” Tyler grins over at me.

“Wait, can I change my answer?” Layla asks.

“Sure,” I say.

“I'm waiting for the new Panda Express entrée to be released. I've been seeing the little hints on their Facebook page for the last two months.” She squints at the sky. “Chicken. Tangy. Spicy and sweet.” She shakes her head. “I'm voting it's something with pineapple.”

I start laughing.

“I'm waiting for home-cooked meals.” Peter grins. I am fairly certain this is the first time I've ever heard him make a joke.

“Hello? Did you not hear how excited I am for Panda's new entrée?”

“I'm waiting for Starbucks to start a delivery service,” I say.

“Pineapple. Tangy. Spicy,” Layla repeats, ticking the points off on her fingers.

“I thought you were only guessing the pineapple.”

“It's an educated guess, Peter,” Layla says.

I look up. At some point, it got dark. I squint up at the sky and see a couple of stars starting to make their appearance.

“Tomorrow is going to be a crazy day,” Layla says quietly a few minutes later.

“But tonight is nice.” I smile over at her.

She grins at me and nods. “Tonight is perfect.”

At ten o'clock, Layla and I finally stand up and say our good nights. “We'll be here first thing in the morning,” Layla tells Peter. She gathers up the blanket we were lying on, and Peter walks her back to her car.

I pick up the leftover bread from dinner as Tyler grabs the cooler I brought for the leftover meat and walks with me over to my car. “Well,” I say, looking at Tyler. This is awkward. Peter and Layla are a couple. Tyler and I are just friends, but something about the starlight makes everything seem more romantic than it actually is.

“Well,” he says, smiling at me. “I hope you sleep well.”

“I hope
you
sleep well.”

“Me too.” He grins. “I think I'll be fine. I can usually sleep anywhere.”

“Air mattresses?”

“Yeah.”

“Backseats of cars?”

“Yes.”

“Airplanes?” I ask.

“Yep.”

I sigh. “I'm jealous.”

“It's a gift.” He shrugs. “With great sleeping talent comes great sleeping responsibility.”

“You are very strange, do you know that?” I ask him with a smile.

He looks at me for a second, smiling, though it is dark and I can't really make out his expression very well. Then I feel his hand on mine, squeezing it gently, lightly rubbing his thumb along the back of my hand.

“Sweet dreams, Paige,” he says softly. He drops my hand and waves, walking over to his truck, then opens the passenger door and pulls out a sleeping bag.

It is best if I ignore the ten million grasshoppers suddenly residing in my stomach. I wave at Layla. “I'll pick you up at six forty-five.”

“Okay. Night, Paige.”

I drive home, climb the stairs to my dark apartment, change into my pajamas, crawl into bed, and flick on my lamp on the bedside table, pulling my Bible over. I stare at my hand.

Surely Tyler held my hand tonight out of friendliness.

Surely.

Even so, the grasshoppers are still there.

I open my Bible to the Psalms. Psalm 40 catches my eye.

“I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.… He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord.”

A new song.

I like the idea of a new song to God.

* * * * *

Six o'clock comes much too early. I squint at my alarm clock and groan. But then I stop groaning because at least I am waking up in a comfortable, warm bed and not in a sleeping bag on the hard ground.

I need to do something nice for Tyler to tell him thank you.

Since we are coming back to shower after we set up, I skip showering this morning and just yank my hair into a sloppy bun. I pull on jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers, add a little bit of mascara, and grab my purse and the bag of stuff I'm thinking Layla will probably forget, like scissors, tape, twisty ties for securing the twinkle lights, and stuff like that.