Butterfly Weeds (20 page)

             
“Funny, Rach,” I interjected, as she continued.

             
“Anyway, I know that he’s still the same old Will, but seriously, her and her big-time accountant boyfriend must live under a rock,” she said. “In your defense, they should know. It’s all over town. But anyway, I kept looking at Will, waiting for him to say something, but he never did. He just sat back quietly and let her think that life hadn’t changed for him since high school. It was actually pretty comical after awhile. But anyway, that being said, after Janette finally left, Will and I talked about his singing career and how he was doing and how his family was dealing with it and all, and then he asked where you were.”

             
Rachel paused, and I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I spoke up.

             
“So?” I asked wondering how that added up to Will still having a “thing” for me.

             
“Well, it wasn’t the way he asked or even that he asked at all that was unusual. It was the way he reacted after I answered his question that struck me as odd,” she continued.

             
“Okay,” I said, now waiting to hear the “odd” part.

             
“He gave me that hollow-eyed stare he gives, and he just nodded his head,” Rachel continued.

             
There was silence then, and I hesitated before speaking.

             
“Rachel,” I stammered. “Honestly, you’re going to have to come up with something better than that to make me a believer. He stared at you blankly and nodded his head. How does that tell you anything? Doesn’t he do that all of the time?”

             
“I’m being honest, Jules. He did the exact same thing when I asked him how he was holding up after you two broke up years ago, and I know he was a wreck then,” she added.

             
“Rachel, it was his idea to break up,” I reminded her.

             
My comment seemed to have hit a wall before it ever reached the other end of the phone. I waited for Rachel’s response, but it never came, so I continued emptying my laundry basket of whites into the washing machine. Now, to both humor my friend and to satisfy my curiosity, I guess a little, I continued the conversation.

             
“Well, how did you answer him?” I asked, sounding only as if I were playing along and that was all.

             
“I told him that you were still in
San Diego
doing the whole law thing and that you would have loved to have been there – at the reunion, but that you had exams that day,” she said.

             
“That’s it? He knew half of that already. Anyway, I told you that I think he’s dating someone, right?” I questioned my friend.

             
She was quiet for a second.

             
“Remember?” I asked again. “I overheard his cousin say that he had found ‘the one.’”

             
“That’s right, I forgot about that. I haven’t seen her. She wasn’t there. He came alone. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for you though,” she happily offered.

             
“That’s not necessary, Rach,” I said, laughing.

             
“Okay, I’ll keep my eyes peeled for myself then,” she said, before pausing. 

             
“Hey, Jon’s calling. Let me take it and call you back,” Rachel quickly rattled off.

             
“Okay, Miss Popular, I’ll talk to you later,” I said, still amused by the entire conversation I had just had with my friend.

             
I closed the phone and squeezed it back into my pants pocket.

             
Rachel’s overly active imagination never ceased to amaze me, even after all of the years I had known her.

             
“Poor Jon,” I said under my breath, smiling.

             
Jon was Rachel’s fiancé. The two had just recently gotten engaged and had already set a wedding date for next spring. Rachel had met him in college. I had always thought that they complemented each other well. Jon was laid back, while Rachel was outgoing and always wanted to be in
the know
. He kept her grounded, while she kept him spirited. Spirit was probably the most endearing quality about my friend. Rachel’s mind never stopped churning out new schemes and ideas that pertained to the love life of her friends. Her plots were all very playfully devious, but always in good nature. I knew that she only wanted the best for those she rallied behind, and in the end, I was glad that Rachel was in my corner. Believing this, I knew that I couldn’t be too hard on her when she brought up my former high school sweetheart. Rachel had always rooted for Team Julia and Will, and after we had broken up, she had taken it upon herself to follow the relationship to its absolute end, which Rachel didn’t believe was reached until marriage, either to each other or to other people. Although I knew Rachel was pulling for the former as opposed to the latter, a part of me believed that she used my and Will’s lives as her real-life novel, only she had to discover the words on the page herself through crafty questions and careful observations. Nevertheless, I loved this part about Rachel. I only hoped she wouldn’t be devastated when life ran its fateful, meandering course and I didn’t end up with the man my friend had been rooting for all along.

             
I
couldn’t see his face, but I knew him, and no doubt about it, loved him. He was fiery and familiar, strong and comfortable, and he held my hand with a firm gentleness, almost as if he promised in it that he’d love me honestly and never let me go. But who was he? I traced the contours in his abs and chest as we lay in the tall grass. Maybe it was the shadow the sun made as it bounced off of a nearby oak. Maybe he just didn’t have a face at all.
Who are you?

             
I continued to trace the paths etched out in his muscles as I lay my head onto his strong chest and listened to the soft echoes of his heart beating. His body was so familiar – not at all mysterious, though his identity still remained a mystery to me.
Who are you
? I persisted.

             
As I followed the rising and falling of his chest, I felt his other hand come to rest on top of mine. I felt safe, like I was home.

             
I looked up then, and slowly, the shadow lifted from his face, and I smiled.

             
“Will,” I whispered. “I knew it was you.”

             
I drearily rolled over and reached for my cell phone blaring on my nightstand. It was eight in the morning.

             
“Speak of the devil,” I mumbled, as I struggled to regain a worldly consciousness, at the same time, burying my head back into my pillow before answering.

             
“Hel-lo,” I managed to get out. My voice was scratchy and deeper than usual.

             
“Good morning, and happy birthday!” I heard him shout on the other end of the phone, unfazed by my heavy-eyed greeting.

             
The call surprised me, though it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. We had always wished each other a happy birthday, and the tradition had continued even after we had parted ways romantically years ago.

             
“Thank you,” I replied, pulling the phone slightly away from my ear and realizing that it was, in fact, my birthday. The thought made me smile. “And how have you been, Rock Star?” I asked playfully, now sitting up and starting to come to.

             
I had called him the day after I had seen him on TV for the first time. He had been somewhat short, but I had also expected that. Short conversations had been our forte for the past several years now.

             
“I’ve been doing great,” he quickly rang back.

             
“Good,” I replied softly.

             
“So, what are your plans today, Birthday Girl?” he asked cheerfully – changing the subject.

             
“Oh, nothing too much. Brady’s flying in later, then dinner,” I said, trying to downplay my excitement a little.

             
“The doctor?” he asked sarcastically.

             
“Yes, the doctor,” I said, playing along. 

             
“What about you?” I asked.

             
“What about me?” he shot back quickly.

             
“I heard that you met someone,” I stated and asked at the same time. I sounded as thrilled and excited for him as humanly possible – under the circumstances and at eight in the morning, though I’m pretty sure it just came out sounding as forced as a
congratulations
to the winner after I had just been declared the loser.

             
“Where did you hear that from?” he rang back just as quickly. He sounded surprised by my statement.

             
“I overheard Kassi mimicking you at Mona’s wedding,” I explained nonchalantly.

             
Will remained silent. He seemed to have been formulating his next thought, but then I thought I heard him smile on the other end of the phone.

             
“Well, as a matter of fact, I have. I met her a little while ago,” he replied confidently.

             
The words didn’t come as a shock to me. After all, I had already known the answer. But I had to admit that hearing the words come from his mouth so easily surprised me at first – even cut a sliver into my heart a little. Nevertheless, I acted unfazed.

             
“She does realize that you’re not just some big-time country star, right?” I questioned him playfully.

             
Will chuckled.

             
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that deep down she just sees me as the small-town country bumpkin that I am,” he confessed.

             
I laughed and shook my head. I neglected to press him for more details, though I desperately wanted to. I wanted to know where she was from, what she did, how he had met her, but in the end, I stifled my possibly never-ending barrage of questions. What stopped me from inquiring further was partially due to the fact that I was still half asleep and partially due to the overwhelming truth that, deep down, I didn’t really want to talk about his budding love life on my birthday. After all, Brady would be arriving in several hours, and I had waited what seemed like an eternity to see him again.