“Anywhere swee-tie.” Trish responded
An unexpected groan emitted from deep within. “You have got to stop calling me that.”
Trish was briefly confused, unaware what ‘that’ really was. Oh no had she thought she forgot her name? Let's use it a bit more so she knows that she was truly remembered.
"Oh, okay C." Trish emphasised trying to redeem herself.
They walked in almost complete silence if it wasn't for the traffic of cars and people, and settled at a nearby park with cups of Bristos coffee in hand. C was still analysing the situation, this was the first time she had gone against her heart and was not about to let down the fight that quickly. But what if Hh was right about it? This was after all not the 2nd or 3rd but the 6th time that Trish had either been late or suddenly unavailable for the appointment that she kept requesting. This made C feel like she was the pursuer. But there was something about Trish that seemed painfully sincere. There was her smile, her laugh and those oh so untouched innocent eyes, C sometimes wondered if it was curiosity or jealousy that kept her coming back. Oh wait Trish was speaking:
"So you said that you’re an interior designer."
"Really? She had wasted all those weeks to sit you down and ask you this?" H laughed inciting C.
C couldn't help but agree, that really was a lousy opener.
"Yes, and you are...a housewife?" C replied slightly scornful. With the modest clothing and boring appearance that was the only thing C could picture Trish doing.
Trish was slightly taken aback by C's comment knowing full well the darts it was meant to shoot.
"Me, no not even married yet. I'm actually an event’s organiser. I work with various churches and companies, plan weddings and baby showers and the like." Trish skilfully ducked.
That was unexpected, C had never pegged this completely covered up stiff lady to know the first or last letter of the word "party" and she says she organises them? Oh wait- she said she did it for church, now that was more believable. Probably made people sit on the floor barefoot in a circle holding hands in meditation reciting something or the other- that was what they did in church right? C had honestly never been there before, her parents were the furthest thing from religious and she had not bothered to check it out once she got older. She already had 99
problems and was glad that church wasn't one.
"Speaking of it I have an event this Saturday at the North Baptist Church, it's a mixer for 20-30 year olds. It would be really nice if you came." Trish bubbly invited her.
Hh laughed, “Oh if only Trish knew just who she was inviting into church.” C hid her smirk as she yet again agreed with Hh- she was no church going material. "Oh. this Saturday? I'm sorry I can't." C replied to Trish knowing that unavailability was the only way to get Trish off her case. In all honesty both C and H knew Saturdays were dedicated to a very special place: her bed.
Trish knew she'd be met with resistance. Every time she mentioned church walls instantly went up in Cs entire body, she was even subconsciously crossing her arms right now. But God had given her an assignment.
Trish had met C at her cousins wedding, they had been placed on the same table at the reception and had... well not instantly gotten along. But after returning to her house at night while saying her evening prayers Trish heard a sharp rebuke.
"I called you to love not judge!"
Huh? It took a moment for that message to sink in. Had she really been judging C all this time? No she'd tried to talk to her and had been met with constant coldness so moved on, was that really considered judgment? Trish ignored the voice and went on with her week, but at night she kept getting flashbacks of those hollow eyes that screamed "Leave me alone" in silence.
That weekend, Trish had gotten the florists number from her cousin as she had fallen in love with the floral wall that greeted the guests at the entrance to the wedding. She planned on hiring them for a baby shower she was organising. She dialled the number whilst staring out of her car window.
"Hello, C Roberts speaking. How may I help you?" came the voice over the phone.
Trish was stunned, she could just pretend like she had no idea who she was speaking to- a great untruth as the name on that place card was always the opening of her recurring dream now turning nightmare. But then again, she had already passed the idea of the flower wall to her team and it was her task to get the florists on board. What was she to say? She was running away from God?
"God, you might as well have written it in neon lights" Trish mumbled to God as she mustered up the courage to take up the assignment He had so specifically placed in her lap.
It had taken almost all the PR skills she'd learnt over the years to expertly guide the conversation first getting the real florists number, who happened to be Cs neighbour- and then ask this stranger out for tea. Awkward was more than applicable to their conversation. But somehow by the orchestration of God, C accepted the invite and after some light conversations and a few unfortunate stand ups later here they were in a park holding lukewarm coffee straining for words.
God help me, Trish prayed. Lord give me a heart to love her as you do because by my own strength it's hard.
C was bored and quite disappointed at how conversation was - or not- going. She had expected her valiant act to be met with a triumphant encounter full of laughter and joy. What was happening in turn was what felt like an interview that was not breaking but making more ice grow between them.
"See why you should have listened to me" H spoke up quickly.
C tried to ignore the truth with all of her. All she needed was a little glimmer of hope that she wouldn't be trapped forever. Just then Trish's phone rang. They both let out quiet but noticeable sighs of relief as Trish reached for the phone.
"Hey George, did you find it?... Oh, thank God. I was worried that I'd have to wait all week for it to be repaired.... Don't worry, I already asked Rachel to host this week. ... Yeah, all is set. See you soon." Trish hung up the phone, threw her head back and exclaimed "Thank you Jesus, thank you Father!"
C quickly ducked down holding fast to her cup. If Jesus was anywhere near, she'd be the first person to scram. She might know nothing about church, but she'd watched enough movies to know she did not want to meet Him. Her eyes peered as she wondered what had happened that Trish would thank the deities so enthusiastically.
Trish noticed her expression, "My pipes burst last night, so I woke up to a flooded living room this morning. Oh there was water everywhere, so I had to drain some out and clean up the place, that's actually why I was late today. Well anyways, the plumber I had called said he'd only be able to come in tomorrow to check out the problem so I SOS'd my friend, George to come and check it out. He just told me he'd not only found a guy to fix the pipes but also they went shopping and found the right parts they need so God willing my house will be dry and functional by Monday!" Trish paused her long winded explanation.
C had learnt the art of listening but not the art of reacting, she was trying to calculate which expression would be an appropriate response to the story just said.
"Wait, you said you were an interior designer right?" Trish blurted out before C had a time to settle her face. "Well the rec room in my house just went through an indoor hurricane. That and I have been hoping to redesign that old place. Most of my furniture is ruined and let's not even get started on the walls.
Would you have any free time at all to come over and at least take a look at the place. I have my ideas but hey, we're grown and I'd like a real professional to take a look and help redesign the place." Smiled Trish.
A job offer was the last thing that C was expecting to be the outcome of this long awaited cup of coffee. A few laughs and maybe a friend, well, friendship might be a longer way of than expected for the two of them.
"I told you so, go on to your little apartment and let me get back to work." H was more than ready to add salt to all the wounds left bare from their earlier encounter. "Even if you do go all that would come out of it is the same thing you gained today- nothing" H continued.
"Oh, do you dare me?" C interjected H. C had no clue where the nudging feeling her pushing her to defiance was coming from.
“I'll do it." C blurted out before she realized she had verbalized her thoughts.
…....................
George was a hunk of a man- that was all C’s eyes could register as he disappeared into the house she had now come to renovate. C in all honesty still had no idea why she'd accepted this project, but something about her new found freedom made her want to rebel to the furthest extent. Being around this lady that H hated more each day seemed like a sure way to keep H at bay.
She entered the house after Trish and stood still for a full two minutes. The damage wasn't an exaggeration as she had come to believe most of Trish's tales were. The entire living room was a complete disaster, the wall paint was ruined until halfway up, the floor boards needed some immediate replacement and the chairs needed a dumpster to call home. Looking around at Trish's choice of furniture C was however silently impressed.
The room was well put together, she could pick up Trish's quirky yet elegant character from the design and outlay of the room. On one side there was an interrupted mirror pattern speaking class and on the other there was a portion of Michelangelo’s ‘Creation of Adam’ painting with Gods finger pointing to what looked like a child's drawing hanging next to it.
Her colour choices, now, were definitely all over the place with mustard yellows and maroon reds taking centre stage. This was a complete contrast to the almost beige neutral walls. One thing was certain from the outline: this lady knew just who she was. This fact was sometimes a dream, mostly a nightmare for interior designers. Her last client, Mrs Fuller had had a strong personality. That didn't end well for neither her, Mrs Fuller nor Mrs Fullers lounge room.
"Well the damage is obvious, this room didn't look as ghastly before I can assure you that" Trish spoke as she walked up to her, mug in hand.
"Now that's debatable" a strong, deep, manly voice interrupted Trish's defence of her room.
"Haters, haters everywhere I tell you" Trish shot back whilst shaking her head.
"You know denial is a symptom of insanity" He came again.
C couldn't help but laugh, this guy’s humour was right down her ally.
"Well you might as well get your head out of my fridge and come and introduce yourself. And bring the brownies and ice tea while you're at it." Trish shouted to the hunk while leading C out to the balcony. "That's the thing with having male companions, no sooner are they in your house than they're emptying your fridge"
And with impeccable timing the hunk emerged from the house. He was tall, real tall and his body seemed to be made out of muscle. His face at first glance was nothing much to look at but with careful examination one could see His kind eyes and one sided dimple. C let out a slight sigh then she realized that she was staring at him and the hunk was holding out his hand in greeting.
"Hey, my name is George"
"I'm C, nice to meet you"
"Likewise, Trish told me you were an interior designer"
Was that the only opening these people knew?
"Yes, yes I am" C replied.
"Amen, now that's an answer to prayer. This girl’s house has been needing redecoration for a time and a half- I tell you when her pipes burst it were almost as if God was nodding in agreement."
"So much for rainbows" Trish murmured
"Well you weren't hurt, just the atrocity that you live in was." Replying with a defiant grin.
"I don't know if I should thank or smack you" Trish sighed with apparent annoyance playfully raising her arm.
"Well, while you ponder on that I'll take my cue to leave." With car keys in hand he started on his way out.
"Okay, see you on Saturday " Trish waved
"Umm, if you are done with your consultation I could drive you home." George said.
It took a second for C to register that that offer was directed at her.
"No thanks, I drove myself here" C rejected the offer keeping her silence as she allowed H to take over. This was an area she was not ready to rebel in- she probably would never be ready to start to trust guys.
…....................
C tossed her bag on her couch and lay down defeated beside it. Maybe she was still a cadet running into battle. It was too much for her system to take in. She breathed in two moments of silence until she heard a deep dark laughter.
"You thought you could beat me, stupid kid" Hh spoke up ready to give it to her. "So after you had your moment, now what? Face it: you will never be her or like her, she's got everything a good place, handsome boyfriend and a nice life. What? Did you think that would be you some day? Fat chance!"
H's laughter pierced deep "All this has been is a jealousy ride, you want to be her and if you keep going on it nothing but sobering reminders are going to surface.”
"Shut up heart” shouted C
“No you listen up C. Stop dragging us around and filling me with more crap to file.” Hh shouted back, having none of it.
"Can you for one second leave me alone" C almost pleading now
"Am I lying? You want to be her!"
"No. I want to be free!" C retaliated, refusing to be convinced by H’s words.
"Nonsense. Oh and yes you may stare at him but don't you dare start crushing on that guy. All guys are the same C- we both know that's true. You can't trust guys."
And with that statement C gave up the fight, she knew H was right. All her life experience had pointed to that fact, starting from her farther who'd awakened her to the harshness of this world a bit too early, to all the men she'd ever been with both willingly and unwillingly. Those were all memories that C avoided at all costs, she’d left Hh to handle it and she didn’t care how. Men were all the same and C knew most of the damage she'd seen in H was due to them. She was not ready to confront her scars; there was power in forgetting so she slept instead.
H on the other hand was livid to the core at C's persistent defiance. Who did she think she was, trying to run things after running from it all for years?! She'll show her. H dug into her files of Cs past, she picked up the freshest most recent file and played it with volume loud knowing full well that this would be the sum of C’s dreams, or, as some would call, nightmares.