Love Unexpected (24 page)

My girl, though, was not meant for the kitchen. She looked aghast when I asked her to chop onions. It was quite funny. It was great that I really liked cooking for her and bringing food for her and her friends.
 

The way to their hearts was definitely through their stomachs.

Nalee was already eating away the fries before I excused myself to see what Sedona was up to.

I paused at the scene that greeted me in her bedroom. She was dressed in some flannel pajamas and a tight tank top. Her long, dark locks were pulled into a ponytail, and she was furiously writing on a very, thick book. Hoping not to break her concentration, I stepped in the room and sat on the bed.

It was not long before I figured something was wrong. Her shoulders were too tense, her spine ramrod straight. Granted, it was hard to break her concentration when she was really focused on something. This time, it was different, odd. She kept writing on the book, erasing and writing, erasing and writing. For 5 minutes, she hasn’t looked up. Normally, she would acknowledge my presence after a minute or two.

I slowly walked towards her and lightly touched her hair upon reaching her. I swiveled the chair she was sitting on so she could face me. Something was definitely going on. She finally noticed my presence and looked at me. Her eyes were turbulent, stormy. Her lips slightly shook. I pulled off the headphones
from her head, pried the book slowly from her hands, and carried her to the bed.

She didn’t say anything. She just hugged me tightly.

In a whisper, she said, “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a nurse.”

She was sitting on top of me and hugging me so I could not see her face. I untangled myself from the hug and kept my arms on her lower back.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“I’m just not,” she said sadly, “I think I’m going to change my major. Maybe accounting or something else. Numbers are better.”

I placed her hands on top of mine.

She continued, her eyes flickered with despair, “Numbers don’t go away; numbers don’t make you feel sad.”

“Whatever it is babe, you know you can tell me.” It pained me to see her struggle with whatever she was struggling with. She had always wanted to be a nurse. When we started dating, I saw her eyes got brighter, filled with determination, when she talked about this. This was her goal, her niche. She had always wanted to take care of people, help families, and be like the nurse who helped her when she had a broken ankle at the age of 5. Whatever happened today must have really shaken her to the core.

I lifted her chin and lightly caressed her arms, “Tell me what happened, babe.”

It labored her to take a deep breath, “Today,” she took another breath, “I was holding a little girl’s hand. Her parents died in a trail derailment.”

Shit
. The train derailment was all over the news today.

Tears didn’t fall from her face. Her eyes were filled with angst, but she didn’t cry. I held her tightly against me. “Babe, I saw that in the news. That must’ve been so hard. I’m so sorry.” I ran my hands through her hair. Her ponytail loosened up.

She turned her cheek to the right and pressed closer to my chest.

“I stayed with her for a long time. Her name was Ara. I think she was about 5 years old. She was bruised, but only minor bruises. The ER nurses and doctors were busy attending to the injured victims. I saw her standing and crying on the side. A nurse asked me to stay with her after letting me know that the next of kin was already being notified.”

There were moments when silence was in itself, the answer. Or helped you arrive to the answer. I could only imagine how Sedona must’ve felt. How burdened with grief she was for the little girl. Words escaped me.

“When I lost my mom, I remembered my dad holding me,” she heaved, “I remember him telling me that she was going to heaven. I asked him if he could take me there, he said, ‘Not right now, my angel’.”

She continued, “This little girl, when she asked me if her mom and dad were going to be ok, I couldn’t say anything. Then, she looked at me with her brown eyes and said, ‘I wonder if we’re going to the zoo tomorrow.’”

“Zander, I don’t know how I held it together. I just kept hugging her. We played with the doll that she was holding. Her aunt eventually arrived and thanked me for staying with her. You see, I can’t be a nurse. I didn’t know what to say to the little girl. I couldn’t lie to her. I can’t be the person who has to stay with the girls and boys and families who have lost someone they loved.” Tears escaped her eyes.

Her shoulders racked with sobs. I held her, running my hands on her back, hoping to ease the pain.

When the sobs left her, I said, “Babe, this might be difficult for you to hear right now, but I have to say it.”

She pulled from my hug, her eyes searched my face, and her lips were slightly quivering. She was so torn up right now.

I placed her hands against my chest, “This is why you should exactly be what you have been planning for your whole life, a nurse. That little girl? She will probably not remember everything. But she will remember that there was this person, who hugged her and played with her. You were something normal for her when everything around her was falling apart.”

Her eyes glimmered with tears as she listened. “Your strength is amazing, Sedona. All these families, all these boys and girls, all the people you see in the hospitals, they need someone like you. You don’t need to lie. You just need to be there. Someone to remind them what normal is. That there is life after what they’re going through.”

Her hands caressed my face, I clutched at this feeling of intensity, of intimacy between us. This was another facet of her that I have never seen. I’ve seen the sexy, fun, brainy, goal-oriented, focused Sedona. But this, this was another side of her that I was getting to know.

Her body shook lightly, “I don’t know how I’d do this without you right now.”

There it was. The heart of her – needing me, asking me to be there for her.

“I’m here, babe,” I assured her. We stayed in this position for a while. I felt her head loll back on my shoulder. I slowly put her down the bed, stepped out of my clothes, put out the light, and hugged her close to me.

Sedona

First impressions may be just that,
first.

Zander was a living contradiction of my first impressions.

Initially, I thought he was one of those good-looking, panty-collecting, jocks.

Contrary to popular gossip, he was not a panty-collector. Don’t get me wrong, he was quite familiar with women’s underwear.

When I asked him exactly how many women he had slept with, he cringed and asked me if I really wanted to know. I looked at him, straight through his wary eyes, and said, “Yes.”

He lifted his left hand, palm up, signifying ‘5’. I arched an eyebrow. He then turned his palm the other way, ‘5’. Five plus five.

“You’ve slept with 10 women?” My voice had that high-pitched quality.

He cringed again and said in a low voice, “Umm, I didn’t really keep count but that sounds about right.”

“Does that number include me?”

“Yeah,” his face was red.

He told me he started having sex when he was 15. He just turned 23. In my calculations, that was an average of 1-2 women/year. Kieran’s numbers were probably higher than his.

I said, “Wow, I have some catching up to do.” Of course, I was just joking.
 

His eyes were anything but calm; he said, “I don’t think so.”

“No?”
 

“Definitely
, no. They’re in my past, Sedona. I wasn’t promiscuous or anything. I was always safe. I do have way more experience than you,” he breathed in, as if he was trying to collect himself, “I’m sorry, that’s just the way it was. Now with you, everything’s different.”
 

I sucked in a breath. He didn’t have to apologize. I wasn’t born yesterday. An extremely handsome, popular guy like him, I saw it firsthand how women threw themselves at him.

By his own admission, he’s only had two ex-girlfriends. He mentioned that one was when he was in high school and the other one, in college. Both lasted less than 4 months. I teased him that since 4 months was his relationship threshold; I should really start looking for my replacement. We were hitting the 5-month mark. He gave me this unflinching, steady look and said, “You have to know this by now, I’m keeping you.”

*****

Over the months that we’ve been together, he has brought me many times to his favorite places in San Francisco, the museums.

I was quite surprised the first time he brought me to a museum. We spent the whole day walking through the artistic works at the San Francisco Museum of Contemporary Art.

“I love this place,” he said, as we walked through the various paintings, sculptures, and architectural works. He spoke with such
marvel, wonderment.

I was a science girl through and through. I liked the paintings and admired all the exceptional works of art. However, I was pretty sure Zander was looking at everything through a different lens.

When I asked him why he wanted to be an architect, he smiled and said, “I love creating something out of nothing,” he looked around the room that we were currently standing in, “You see, babe, this space here, used to be just land, nothing. Look at this now, it’s a grand building, with grooves, character, and attitude. I love playing football. It’s my passion. Architecture is my second passion.”

Curiosity got the better of me, Zander was the only son of a computer magnate, and it behooved me that he was not going the path or maybe something similar to what his father did. “It’s really great that you know what you want. How about your parents, your dad, doesn’t he want you to be in business with him?”

His eyes betrayed the tiniest of flicker, “Nothing would make my parents happier than for me to quit football. I know that they’re not comfortable with me getting pinned to the ground by 2-to-300-lb men. My dad wants me to join him. It’s just not me, you know?”

I held his hand; he looked slightly uncomfortable telling me about this.

“They have been very supportive. They might not agree with what I want to do; but, they respect my decision,” a slight smile lit his face, “and for that, I am thankful.”

“Doubts creep in when insecurity sets in.”

Sedona

Away games were torture.
 

For the si
mple fact that he was away.
 

I never thought I could miss someone's prese
nce as much I did. Just his.
 

The only up
side to Zander's away games was that I could DVR them. It was coincidentally hell-ish that all his games were scheduled on the nights that I had to wake up super early in the morning. As much as I wanted to, my body has been attuned to 6 ½ hours of sleep. Any less than 6 ½, I didn't function. Or barely. I couldn't be barely functioning for clinicals.
 

Right now, he was in Texas. Then, the team was off to New York. He
was gone for almost a week.
 

As soon as I got home, I turned on the TV in my room, leaving the sound off. I did not like listening to the commentators
while watching the game. The game was still on. The app on my phone showed that Zander's team was behind by a field goal, 27-23, with 4 minutes remaining in the 4th quarter. Texas University had possession of the ball. Whew! This was going to be a close game.
 

I set my homew
ork aside for a few minutes.
 

I was biting my lip watching the game.
Yikes.
Texas U was going to score, they were in the red zone. If they did, they would win. I was praying for a sack, a fumble, or an interception and, closed my eyes. I peeked through my right eye nervously and screamed. Texas U just had an interception.