Where Love Finds You (The Unspoken Series) (9 page)

A few seconds passed and the door opened. 

“Oh, hey,” she said, her bright eyes catching the sun. “You must be Matt. Sorry, I had music on as I was cleaning and didn’t realize you were knocking. You weren’t standing here too long, were you?”

I smiled. “No. Just a few seconds. It’s no problem at all.”

She pulled the headphones out of her ears. I heard Ben Folds Five before she turned her iPod off. “You can come in and have a seat.”

I followed her to the living room. “It’s not every day I hear of someone listening to Ben Folds as their cleaning.”

She motioned for me to sit on the couch across from the chair she sat down in. “I know, I know. Not the most pick-me-up song in the world, but I love singing with him. It actually does motivate me in a weird way.”

I looked behind her at the bare walls and into the empty dining room. “So, did you just move in?”

“Actually,” she said, looking around her, “I’ve been here for a year now. Hard to believe, I know.” 

“You are looking to paint every room in the house?” I really didn’t think she could afford it. She barely had any furniture except the couch and chair we were sitting on.

I tried not to notice her beauty as she pulled her hair into one of those messy hair things women do. She looked around again, silent. I watched her. Looked as though she were calculating things in her mind. 

A slight smile hid behind her teeth. “My husband and I moved here one year ago. Our first home together.” She put her hand on her stomach and took a deep breath. “He always wanted to paint the house, but I kept saying we couldn’t afford it. So now I want to surprise him and have the entire house painted.”

“And he doesn’t know?”

“Well, he died a month ago.” She held her stomach again. “I’m seventeen weeks pregnant with our first baby.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say. I mean, what do you say to a beautiful woman who is seventeen weeks pregnant with her dead husband’s child?

“It’s okay,” she said. “I know it’s hard to find words. It doesn’t make sense to me either. Andy always wanted to fix up the house. He worked so hard to buy this house and when we finally moved in we could barely afford food, much less furniture and paint and new floors.”

“Yeah, well if it makes you feel any better I’m older than you and I live in an apartment with my best friend from high school.”

She laughed, her gorgeous smile accentuating her lips. Definitely could be a model. Definitely.

“At least I’m assuming I’m older than you,” I said. “Probably the safest assumption I could make, huh?”

“I’m twenty-four,” she said. “We were married when I was twenty-one. Took us three years to get this place and then we got pregnant. I never expected to be alone right now.”

“What happened to Andy?” 

She looked down.

“I’m sorry. I said too much.” I pulled out the paint samples. “Do you want to go over some color samples?”

“No, you didn’t ask too much. It’s just hard for me to remember that this is not a dream. My husband really died.”

“I’m really sorry, Heidi. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay.” She sniffed a little. “He was killed by a drunk driver on his way home from work. At three in the afternoon. Can you believe someone was already drunk at that point? I’ve sent him letters.”

Silence.

“I figured only someone with their own problems could be drunk at three in the afternoon. And after killing someone? I hope he doesn’t lose his mind and kill himself too.”

We both looked at each other. I couldn’t believe it. This beautiful, young wife already a widow and soon-to-be single mother, genuinely concerned about the drunk guy that crashed into the man she married. It’s not every day you meet someone like her. 

“I was on the phone with him when it happened,” she said, eyes blurry.

I nodded, realizing my own mortality. 

“The last sound I remember is that deathly car crash sound. You know, screeching tires against asphalt, the bang of a collision, and glass shattering everywhere. Then the phone died. I immediately left the house, running barefoot. We only had one car at the time and I work from home.” She shook her head. “I ran and ran until I finally found him, only a mile from the house. When I finally reached the car the sirens were getting closer. I didn’t see him anywhere. Nowhere in the car or anywhere around it. We had an old car. The driver’s side seatbelt stopped worked shortly before our emissions test. It was one of those shoulder belts that slides along the car door with a separate lap belt. I begged him to get it fixed.

“Anyway, I screamed at the top of my lungs. I just screamed his name over and over and over again. Then I ran to the other car. No one there either. That’s when I saw him. My heart literally felt numb. Across the street I could see his arms twisted behind his head. His femur sticking out of his thigh. Clothes stained red. With more red pouring out and making a puddle around him. I ran to him. Knelt beside him and forced his eyes open. I’ve seen a lot of expressions on his face, but there’s nothing like seeing someone lifeless. His eyes looked straight ahead. Face relaxed. Jaw dropped and drool mixed with blood pouring onto his collar.”

I took a deep breath. 

“Anyway.” She wiped her eyes. “I said too much. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with my tragic story. You’ve only been here five minutes. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no.” I shook my head. “I understand. I’m glad you could get some of that out again. I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”

“It’s hard,” she said. “My family lives in Virginia and I have no friends here. I moved here for him. His parents don’t like me, never have. They even blame me for his death and refuse to talk to me, save the occasional email to ask how the prenatal appointments are going. They want me to name the child Andrea or Andrew after him. They told me I’d be a horrible mother not to, but Andy hated that. He never wanted a child named after him. He wanted them to have their own unique name. But I know there is good in this. There’s always good in every circumstance. Just depends on how we look at things.” 

“I guess that’s true.”

“And no, I didn’t mention all of this to get free paint.”

We both hid our pain and confusion with a laugh. I couldn’t help but cringe when I imagined this young, pregnant newlywed holding her mangled husband’s body in a ditch. The pain she must have been enduring seemed unbearable to me. And I thought I had problems.

I spent the next three hours at her house. Neither of us could believe it. We walked through each room and as we talked about colors she told me more of her story. She had a personal reason for every color she chose. I didn’t mind hearing her talk. Something about her I enjoyed. She brought me peace. And it wasn’t that she was so beautiful I had to consciously tell myself not to be attracted to her. It wasn’t that at all. It was the beauty inside of her that affected me so much. How many women lose their husband, paint an entire house all sorts of meaningful colors from their relationship, and talk to the paint guy without a single hint of flirtation?

I liked her, in a completely non-romantic way. Part of me couldn’t wait to come back and paint the house. It wasn’t a small house. Not big either, but enough rooms to keep me busy for a few weeks. Most of my clients aren’t home when I paint, but she worked from home. I couldn’t wait to get to know her better.

I know it’s hard to believe, but I really didn’t think of her as a potential date. In fact, she wouldn’t allow it. She twirled her rings and talked about Andy as though he were still alive. I know why, too. It became so clear by the time I left our consultation. 

He never died to her. 

Another day in the coffee shop, another strange day in the life of Ella Rhodes. Dee sat in my office, across from me, staring at me like I had lost my mind. 

“I know it’s unrealistic of me,” I said  as she leaned back in the chair across from me. “But I know what I said to Patrick was right. I could never forgive myself for marrying someone who fell in love and watched his bride walk down the aisle just a few years earlier. One bride is enough for every man. If one bride isn’t enough, then why bother with faithfulness anyway?”

“Ella, Ella, Ella.” She stood and sighed. “You live in a dream world.”

“What’s so dreamy about that?” 

She walked to the door. “Who has the desire, much less the strength, to marry only one person in their lifetime? What about people who are abused? Or Patrick? There is a such thing called until death parts us. You really expect him to stay faithful to his dead wife even if he lives until he is a hundred years old?”

I nodded. 

“No one lives like that. It’s unheard of. You’re missing a perfectly good man because you think he should only have one wife in his lifetime. How do you know if she was the infamous one? What if she had to die so he could meet someone else?”

“I don’t know, Dee. You’re getting too deep for me. I don’t sit around and think through logistics. I know what I feel doesn’t make sense. I know my life doesn’t make sense. But maybe that’s exactly what I want. Maybe I don’t want to live by sense. Maybe I want to live by love . . . love that is unheard of. Love that stays faithful, even if death parts us.”

Dee rolled her eyes with a smile. “You are a fascinating person. I’ve met my fair share of fascinating people, but you are definitely unique in your own way. I think you live in a world no one else has ever found, and probably never will. You’re going to be lonely forever if you don’t get your head out of the clouds.”

“The man I marry will live in this crazy world of mine with me.”

Summer walked into my office and smiled. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but there is a man here to see you about paintings or something.”

“Thanks, Summer. Do you know what his name is?”

“No, but he said he talked to Dee and dropped his stuff off for you to review. He’s been here several times trying to talk with you.”

Dee laughed. She knew I didn’t like dealing with the starving artists. I felt so bad telling them I didn’t have room for their work. Truth is I had stacks and stacks of people who wanted their work in here. I couldn’t give everyone a chance and I am not a fan of crushing dreams. I had enough crushed dreams of my own.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said to Summer. “Tell him to bring in three of his favorite paintings. I will put them up and we’ll see how it goes.”

She smiled and left the office.

Dee looked at me. “I’m shocked.”

“I know. Honestly, I just didn’t want to get up. I have too much work to do and the last thing I want to do is tell someone else I can’t help them sell their art right now.”

“That guy’s determination paid off. Is he the one with the Converse shoes friend?”

I laughed. “I believe so.”

“Things could get interesting around here in the Ella Rhodes story.”

“The Ella Rhodes story is right. Not sure about interesting. Maybe in a strange way.”

She laughed and walked out of my office. Time to catch up on the one thousand phone calls and papers I needed to sort through. What I would give to leave all of this to be a wife and stay-at-home mother. Now, that’s dreaming.

“Come on,” Dee said as Sarah waited for me at the front door of the shop. “Just one more date. I promise he is really nice and he has no ex-wives.”

Sarah smiled.

I shrugged my shoulders. “What am I going to do with you people?”

“Please,” Dee said.

Sarah leaned against the door. “What could it hurt?”

“It could hurt some guy who wants a date and I don’t. I really am content being single. I’ve gotten used to it.”

Dee turned off the lights and we met Sarah at the front door. Carried by silence, we walked outside and inhaled the stuffy city air. 

“I miss the beach,” I said. “This air is suffocating.”

“I agree.” Sarah walked toward the corner. 

Dee and I followed. 

“I have to go this way.” Dee tapped my shoulder. “We’ll talk later.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that. Have a good night, Dee. See you in the morning.”

Sarah and I walked to our apartment. She never said a word. I didn’t notice until we went inside and she plopped on the couch, staring off into space. 

“Everything okay?” I inched toward her.

“Yeah, why?”

“You are quieter than usual. Not your typical joyful self.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know how much I want to say yet. It could be nothing.”

“What? Did something happen with your mystery man?” I leaned back and cushioned my head with a pillow. “When am I going to meet him?”

“Oh. He’s the least of my concerns right now.”

“Sounds romantic. So, what’s going on then?”

“With him? Nothing. Just taking it day-by-day. He is a little too intense for me though.”

“Too intense? For you?”

“He is just very clingy. I don’t know. It’s weird when someone wants to marry you two days into meeting you. It takes me a little longer to know.”

“Well, when it’s the right one I believe you know in an instant. You could know that person for years, be their best friend in preschool through college, but suddenly one day you look at him and you think to yourself, ‘He is my person,’ and you know in that instant you are going to marry him. For some people it can happen the second they meet, for others years after loathing each other, but either way I think it’s this magical moment that happens to us and we just know.”