Echoes Page 3

  “I’ll make reservations at The Ambassador,” Jeff said. “Is six still okay?”

  “Sure. That’s fine.” Lauren cringed. The Ambassador was one of the nicest restaurants in town. She didn’t mean they had to eat at some place fancy, just some place other than Giovanni’s. Also, The Ambassador was only a few blocks from Jeff’s office, but it was a twenty-five-minute drive from the bank where Lauren worked. Now she would have to wear something especially nice to work.

  “So I’ll see you then,” Jeff said.

  “Oh, Jeff?”

  “Yes?”

  She didn’t know how to tell him about her hair. “Nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow at six.”

  “Okay. Love you. Ciao.”

  “Love you, too,” Lauren said into the receiver as the dial tone began to buzz in her ear. Ciao? Since when did Jeff say ciao?

  Lauren dialed Mindy’s number, but the answering machine responded. Lauren left a quick message. “Hi, it’s me. I need to talk to you, Min. Call me tonight. It doesn’t matter how late. Bye.”

  Mindy didn’t call back. Lauren was ready to chew her out the next morning at work, but when Lauren arrived, Mindy was already in the vault along with the supervisor and two other tellers, checking out cash drawers. When Lauren walked in, they all stopped talking to stare at her.

  “What?”

  “Lauren?” Mindy was the first to speak. “Look at you, girl!” She balanced her cash drawer on her hip and stepped up for a closer look. “Turn around.”

  Lauren did. All the other women were silent.

  “I love it!” Mindy finally exploded. “You look absolutely fantastic. I can’t believe how different you look! And that blue suit … When did you buy that? It makes your eyes look huge and blue as the sea.”

  The other women joined in with enthusiastic comments: “What a darling style!” “Did you go to the same salon that Marie went to?” “You look so much older. Not older, bad. But older more sophisticated. Your long hair always made you look like a teenager. Now you look …”

  Mindy filled in with a movie-star imitation. “Ma’velous, dahling. Simply ma’velous!”

  The affirmation did Lauren’s heart good. She had set her alarm an hour earlier than usual to allow extra time to shower, work with her hair, and decide on something simple enough for work and yet nice enough for The Ambassador. To her surprise, it took no time to wash and condition her hair. With a blow dryer in one hand and brush in the other, she was able to coax her hair into place immediately. The only tricky part was when she had taken one last brush down the back and instinctively kept brushing even though the hair stopped. A surge of sorrow had welled up. Phantom pains over the missing locks. The rave reviews from her coworkers were exactly what she needed.

  “What did Jeff say?” Mindy asked, as they moved to their work stations and began to count out their cash drawers.

  “He hasn’t seen it yet.”

  “But you told him, didn’t you?”

  “I was going to …”

  “The man is going to flip! He’s going to be afraid to take you to New York now. No doubt a modeling agency will discover you the first day and whisk you away from him. You look great, Lauren. Especially in that color blue. I never noticed how blue your eyes were. They match that suit.”

  “Thanks,” Lauren said, flipping through a stack of twenties.

  “Now all you need is one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe …,” Mindy tilted her head to take a closer look at Lauren. “Buy yourself some new earrings. Wild ones. You know, dangly with beads and stuff. To complete the new look.”

  Lauren smiled at her friend. “Daring earrings, huh?”

  “See? Even there. Your smile stands out now like one of those athlete’s on a milk commercial. I never noticed it much before. Don’t take this the wrong way, but before all anybody noticed was your hair. This was a good move, Lauren.”

  “It was an accident.”

  “There’s no such thing as an accident when you’re a believer, Lauren. You know that.”

  Lauren gave a little laugh. “As if God really cares about my hair.”

  “Hey, he happens to know exactly how many hairs you have on your head! If that’s not personal involvement, I don’t know what is.” Mindy locked her counted cash drawer into its slot and punched some numbers into her computer terminal.

  “Well, he has a lot fewer to count now,” Lauren said. Usually she agreed with Mindy’s view of Scripture, but this was about her hair. She didn’t see it as a spiritual issue.

  “You know, sometimes,” Mindy continued, “we think something terrible is happening to us, and God is saying, ‘Hey, relax, will ya? I’ve got it covered.’ My dad used to say that we should never think for one minute that Almighty God is standing in heaven, wringing his hands, and saying, ‘Oh dear, oh dear! This wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.’ God is in control. All day, every day. All the way. You hearin’ what I’m say-in?” Mindy talked at a volume loud enough for several other women to feel included in their conversation.

  “You tell her, Preacher Girl,” one of the other tellers said.

  The women often teased Mindy for her speaking out without hesitation about spiritual matters. It didn’t seem to bother Mindy a bit. She was never ashamed of the gospel of Christ.

  Lauren used to be bold about her faith when she was in high school. She came from a church that had a strong youth group, and she had read through the Bible before she went to college. Four years at a Christian college had increased her Bible knowledge but mellowed her zeal. Ever since she had been with Jeff she had toned down even more. Jeff’s approach to Christianity was to be a good example and let his life naturally speak of his reverence for God. Lauren agreed with Jeff, yet she admired Mindy’s spunk. In many ways she was glad to be around Mindy, especially because she was always honest.

  When Lauren was leaving work that evening, Mindy ran out the door and caught up with her in the parking lot. The heat of the midsummer’s eve surrounded them, luring from the asphalt a pack of pungent, invisible tar snakes. Mindy smoothed back her thick, black hair and focused her dark eyes on Lauren. “Are you nervous?”

  “Nervous? Why?”

  “What if Jeff doesn’t like your hair?”

  “Why shouldn’t he?” Lauren said, unlocking her car door, eager to get in and turn on the air conditioner.

  “It’s a big change.”

  Lauren could feel the pent up heat from the day escaping from her open car door.

  Mindy continued. “Moving to New York is a big change, too.”

  “I know.”

  Mindy raised her arm to shade her eyes from the evening sun. “You keep reminding yourself that God is in control, all right?”

  “I will,” Lauren said. “I know he is. Everything will work out fine.” Lauren was about to tell Mindy she had decided not to go to New York and to ask Mindy to pray for her as she tried to convince Jeff to give up the idea of New York. Something stopped her—something inside that had been chiding Lauren for days, telling her she wasn’t capable of making wise decisions. So she swallowed her insecurities, gave Mindy a hug, and slipped into the car, tugging on her straight skirt.

  How does Mindy manage to read my mind like that? I wish I felt as convinced as she does that everything is going to turn out okay. Maybe Jeff will tell me tonight that he’s changed his mind about New York, and I won’t have to be the bad guy in this. Maybe another position has opened up here in Nashville. Maybe he’ll like my hair …

  At exactly six o’clock, Lauren pulled up to the front of The Ambassador. After turning her keys over to the parking attendant, she slipped into the restroom to run some lipstick across her lips. As she pursed her lips together, she checked her eye makeup. It was light; a few twirls of the mascara wand wouldn’t hurt. After doing the top lashes, she decided to give a twirl to her lower lashes, which was something she didn’t usually do. Stepping back to examine her handiwork, she wa
s surprised to see that Mindy was right. Her eyes did look much larger and much bluer than they ever had before. Some daring earrings would look nice instead of the small pearls she wore. With a quick squirt of perfume and a few picks with her fingers to fluff out her bangs, Lauren held her head high and exited the restroom, ready for Jeff and whatever reaction he might have.

  She slipped past the maitre d’, who was on the phone, deciding to prowl through the elegant, darkened dining room on her own. It would make her surprise for Jeff that much more fun. Lauren noticed several men glancing up from their meals as she sauntered by, but none of them was Jeff.

  A man with large, annoying eyes sat at a back booth and seemed to be watching Lauren’s every move. He had slick, dark hair and wore a trim business suit with a deep red tie. She couldn’t see the person sitting across from him in the booth because the back of the high seat blocked her view. She looked away and thought, If that’s a woman sitting with him, she should feel insulted by the way he’s gawking at me.

  Lauren stood in one place, her eyes roaming the room for Jeff. The crystal chandeliers cast their soft, glittery light against the rich, white table linen. Their arrows of light shot out in a precarious fashion before being extinguished in the plush maroon upholstery and the ornate Indian rug.

  The gaze of the unattractive man at the booth met her glance again. He lifted his glass to her and let his wry smile express his thoughts. His dinner guest then glanced around the corner of the booth and took a good look at Lauren. He imitated the gesture by lifting his glass with a smile before disappearing around the velvet-backed booth.

  A pixie-like smile danced on Lauren’s lips as she crossed her arms in front of her and began to tap her foot. With her tongue in her cheek, she waited for the second man to do a double take. It only took a moment before he snapped his attention back to Lauren and immediately rose to come greet her. She stood her ground, waiting for him to come to her.

  “What are you doing?” Jeff said, reaching her in the middle of the restaurant and speaking in a low growl that didn’t match his polite facial expression.

  “What am I doing?” Lauren answered playfully. “I’m meeting my fiancé for dinner. What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for you. I thought you’d be late. I told Garry you’re always late. What are you trying to prove? And what did you do to your hair?”

  Lauren had never seen him so emotional in public. “We’re having dinner with Garry?” she asked.

  “Why didn’t you ask me before you cut your hair?” Jeff’s eyes scanned her as his expression reflected his disapproval.

  “Why didn’t you tell me we were having a business dinner?”

  Jeff grasped her elbow and led her to their booth, a tight smile pressed across his tensed jaw. “We’ve been making some decisions,” Jeff said between clenched teeth.

  “You and Garry?” Lauren said, trying to make Jeff look at her again. He kept looking ahead and stepped up to the table.

  “Garry Taft,” he said, “I’d like you to meet Lauren Phillips.” Then, as almost an afterthought, he added, “My fiancée.”

  “Very pleased to meet you,” Garry said, rising and shaking her hand. He seemed unembarrassed by his earlier flirting. “Forgive me if I appear a bit surprised. Jeffrey said you had long hair.”

  “I used to,” Lauren said politely, settling into the booth next to Jeff. “I just got it cut.”

  “It’s stunning. You’re stunning,” Garry said. “You didn’t tell me you were engaged to such a gorgeous woman, Jeffrey.”

  Jeff smiled and let out something that sounded like a cross between a huff of disbelief and a nervous laugh.

  “Waiter,” Garry called as the server in black coattails passed their table, “a bottle of champagne, please.” Then turning to Lauren he said, “We have some serious celebrating to do here. Did Jeffrey tell you all about our big plans for him with Burrows, James, and Tompkins? The next time I treat you kids to a night on the town it’ll be in New York!” He lifted his glass in a toast to Jeff and then to Lauren.

  She turned to Jeff for an explanation. He was looking straight ahead, toasting back to Garry. Lauren knew what that clench in his jaw and his cool demeanor meant. Not to touch him or talk to him. His mind was made up. She knew he had agreed to take the position in New York, with or without her.

  Chapter Four

  Alone in her quiet apartment, Lauren sat curled up on her cabbage rose couch and pulled her cotton robe tight. It was not quite dawn on this somber Saturday morning in July. This was the morning Jeff was leaving for New York. It had been two and a half weeks since the fateful dinner at The Ambassador and the heated discussion that followed at her apartment.

  They didn’t make coffee. They didn’t talk calmly. Jeff accused her of “flipping out” because she cut her hair, and of embarrassing him at dinner by turning down the champagne. He wanted to know what had gotten into her and what had happened to the soft-spoken, predictable woman he had asked to marry him.

  Lauren countered, asking what had happened to the easygoing, dependable man who wanted to live in the country. Why was he suddenly drinking so much and saying ciao to everyone?

  Jeff called her narrow-minded and insecure. She said he was trying to be something he wasn’t. He told her she didn’t understand. When she replied, “Maybe I could understand if you didn’t shut me out,” Jeff got up and left, slamming the door behind him. He had done this to her twice before in their relationship. No, three times. Each time she had patiently waited for him to come back, and he had within a few hours.

  This time he didn’t return. He didn’t call. Lauren wavered between convincing herself hope still existed for their relationship and inwardly agreeing with her raw emotions that it was all over between them.

  For the next few days Lauren kept her problems to herself. She told Mindy she and Jeff had had a disagreement about New York and were still working it out. Since it was so busy at work, she and Mindy hadn’t been able to take their lunch breaks at the same time, which helped Lauren remain detached. To her, it was better to wait and pray than to announce the failure of her engagement. All couples have arguments. Maybe they would pull out of this. It would save a lot of embarrassment later if she kept quiet now.

  After three long days of little food and little sleep, Lauren received a call from Jeff at work. She met him at Giovanni’s. He apologized. She apologized. She asked if perhaps they should see a pastor or a counselor. He bristled and said he couldn’t marry her.

  She said nothing as she gave him back the ring. He slipped it into the starched pocket of his white shirt and ordered cappuccinos for them. Lauren sipped hers silently as Jeff cleared his throat and told her about the new leather seat covers in his car, as if the two of them were now officially acquaintances, amiable ex’s.

  As a final gesture of her love for Jeff, Lauren drew on every ounce of emotional strength left in her heart and honored him by not crying in public.

  She went to work the next morning and pulled Mindy aside to tell her. Mindy cried, but Lauren didn’t. She asked Mindy not to make a public scene but to let Lauren tell certain people when she was ready.

  By Friday, everyone knew, and they all presented her with a gift before the bank opened. It was wrapped in a small, flat box with a white ribbon. Inside was a note that said, “Here he is: the perfect man. He’s sweet, he’s silent, and if he gives you any trouble, you can bite off his head.” Under the tissue was a big gingerbread man. They all had a good laugh. Lauren was glad to be laughing and not crying.

  During the next week, Mindy had bits of advice, some spiritual, some practical, but all compassionate. Lauren found herself praying constantly, not so much asking God why, as asking what she was supposed to do now.

  She called Jeff once at work, which he never liked her to do. She asked if she could stop by his place that evening. He said he had plans, apologized, and then said he would try to see her before he left on Saturday.

  Now, here it was, Saturday mo
rning, and Jeff hadn’t called or stopped by. She had known he wouldn’t. Jeff liked clean breaks. He had told her once how he skipped a year-end party at college because he didn’t want to have to say good-bye to a bunch of people who would make an emotional scene.

  What Lauren had the most difficulty with was trusting herself and her instincts. How could she be so wrong about a man’s being the right choice for her?

  She and Jeff had met in Shelbyville, a small Tennessee town where her parents had moved when Lauren went away to college. Her stepdad had this dream of raising walking horses, and Shelbyville was the place to do it. Lauren had come to live with them after she finished college and then had gone from job to job in California, never finding the right position.

  Jeff was in Shelbyville, visiting an uncle for the weekend, and met Lauren at a corner gas station. She was filling her car’s tank when he stopped and asked directions. She told him to follow her, and she would direct him to the right road. In the process, she got a flat tire, and Jeff helped her to change it. Then he asked for her phone number. They went to the movies the next night, but when she sat down in the darkened theater, the seat gave way on the left side, jarring Lauren and causing their tub of popcorn to fly into the lap of the stranger next to her. That was the first time Jeff had asked, “Do these sorts of mishaps always happen to you?”

  Early in their relationship Jeff would laugh with her. Then he took on the role of her protector. He helped her acquire her present job so she could move to Nashville and be close to him. Their dating relationship moved forward. Everyone, including Lauren’s parents, were delighted to see her at a steady job. The only problem was Lauren didn’t like numbers or money or anything about banking.

  When she moved to Nashville, her plan had been to use her English degree as the foundation for a teaching credential. It meant she had to take a few more upper division courses, and those would have to be night classes. But that was okay. She at least had a goal, finally, and planned to work on obtaining her teaching credential as soon as they were married.