An elevator carried Sebastian down through the center of the hospital on Wednesday night.
What was he feeling?
Jealousy. Why? Because Ben was on a date with Leah tonight.
Fear. Why? Because he was afraid that Leah would fall in love with his best friend. Which was self-centered. No one could make her happier than Ben could. Ben was the better man. Ben didn’t have the baggage Sebastian carried.
He needed to be honest enough with himself to admit that he had serious issues with trust. The walls he’d built didn’t make him a good bet as a boyfriend.
If his feelings for Ben and Leah were true, he’d want them to end up together.
That’s what was in their best interest.
Many miles to the north, Leah’s eyes sank closed reverently as she sampled the first bite of her meal: bibimbap, Korean comfort food.
Ben, unsure of what to order, had followed her lead. Thus, matching stone bowls of food sat before them. Rice formed the base of the dish, crowned with a fried egg surrounded by colorful mounds of spiced beef, bean sprouts, carrot, zucchini, spinach.
“So good,” she confirmed, adding an additional squirt of chili paste to the dish, then mixing all the ingredients together. “You know, when you and Natasha and Genevieve showed up at Sebastian’s house the other day, I couldn’t believe that I was surrounded by four of the Miracle Five.”
“Impressive, aren’t we?” he joked.
“It was a rare honor.” The only one who’d been absent was the one who’d never joined the rest, even when they were young, in their public appearances and interviews. Luke Dempsey. “Is Luke still in prison?” He’d spent the last seven years in prison for felony theft.
“Yeah, but he’s supposed to come up for parole soon. We’re hoping he finally gets out.”
She asked Ben to tell her more about Natasha and Genevieve, and he filled her in.
On this midweek night in early August, most of the restaurant’s seats were occupied by tourists enjoying summer vacations. The establishment had a crisp, modern atmosphere. Dark gray tiled floor, pops of lime green fabric, a white and silver lighting scheme.
Ben had offered to pick her up this evening, but she’d told him she’d meet him here. If he’d driven them, it would have given the evening a datelike feel. Also, she didn’t enjoy relying on others for rides. Doing so made her feel helpless, and she loathed feeling helpless.
For tonight’s outing, she’d chosen a full skirt and a sleeveless shirt printed with little yellow birds. He’d arrived looking slightly more formal in a green dress shirt, flat front pants, leather shoes.
They were situated at a cozy table for two. Eating out. Away from their usual environment of the school. Away from the rest of their teacher friends. Dressed in fancier clothing than normal.
She might be wrong, because she could never trust her conclusions about such things, but this did feel datelike to her, despite that she’d driven herself here.
As she met Ben’s beautiful eyes from across the table, her nerves stretched. The intimacy of this dinner was confirming for her that she still wanted the same thing she’d always wanted from Ben. Friendship.
The relationship they already had was not a small thing to her. It wasn’t as if she had a large and close-knit circle of adult friends. She had Tess and Rudy. Ben. And a few more casual friendships at school and church. That was it. She was more than grateful for their current relationship.
But the hopeful look on his face was substantiating what Sebastian had told her—that Ben wanted more. Which made her feel like an appalling human being because she truly, truly did not want to hurt him. He was one of the kindest people she’d ever met. Encouraging, thoughtful, supportive. Dozens of times he’d paved the way for her at Misty River High. He was a fantastic listener and, like Sebastian had pointed out, he was loyal.
She’d been eating with a fork, but now fiddled with the unused chopsticks lying next to her napkin.
“Is something wrong?” Ben asked.
“I . . . have an awkward question to ask you. Do you think our friendship can handle an awkward question or two?”
“Absolutely. What’s your question?”
She stilled the chopsticks, mounded her hands in her lap. “I’m interested in knowing if you like me as more than a friend.”
His head pulled back a few inches with surprise.
She waited.
“Come again?” he said.
“I’m interested in knowing if you like me as more than a friend.”
“Uh. Well.” He fidgeted. “What motivated you to ask that?”
“Curiosity. I’d like to be sensitive to where you’re coming from, but I can’t tell where you’re coming from. In order to find out, I have to ask.”
He gave her his thoughtful look, the one that he gave students when he wasn’t sure how to respond. “Do you like me as more than a friend?”
In her life, she’d often been too much of something for other people. Too much of a brainiac. Too nerdy. Too interested in things no one else was interested in.
Much of the journey God had taken her on so far was a journey toward accepting and then embracing who she was. In this case, being true to herself meant being honest with Ben. “I wish I could say yes. In fact, if I could create a software program that would calibrate a woman’s heart to want to date the most ideal man, then I’d calibrate my heart to want to date you. Of course, if I could create that program, I’d also revolutionize dating and make a mint. But that’s just an aside.”
His expression dimmed. The reaction was subtle, but telling.
“Do you like me as more than a friend?” she asked. “You haven’t answered my initial question.”
“I was kind of hoping you’d forgotten your initial question.”
“I don’t tend to forget things that are important.”
“If—if you’re asking if I’d like to see if this could lead to more, then the answer’s sure I would.”
He’d replied to that skillfully. He’d kept his admission relaxed and, in doing so, made this discussion easier for them both. He often did that—made things easier for her.
“But it sounds like you’re not into the idea of dating me,” he continued. “Which is cool.”
“I’m content with our friendship. In fact, I feel fortunate to have you as a friend.”
“Same here.”
“I’d hate for you to waste your time . . . waiting for me.”
“I won’t.” He gathered food onto his fork. “Should you ever come to your senses and want to go out with me, though, let me know.”
“Okay.”
“But I won’t hold my breath.”
“Best not to.”
“Because there are a lot of fish in the sea.”
“So many!”
“And a math genius for a girlfriend might come with a whole set of issues.”
“Now you’re thinking. When they handed me the menu earlier, I had a hard time concentrating on the food because I was busy rounding the dollar amounts of the items and adding them in my head.”
“Right. That would be super annoying to deal with.”
“I’m doing you a favor by taking my name off the list of contenders.”
He shot her a smile tinged with sadness.
I really am doing you a favor, she wanted to insist. He deserved someone who would love him wildly. Her intuition was telling her that God had someone picked out specifically for Ben.
However, that person was not her.
The next day, Sebastian sat alone in the staff break room at the hospital, his lunch on the table in front of him. He picked up his phone after it began to ring. Ben. “Hello?”
“Hey.”
Something was wrong. He could tell by the sound of his friend’s voice. “What’s the matter?” he asked, a tendril of fear sprouting in his stomach. Were the Colemans all okay?
“I talked with Leah about my feelings for her last night.”
Sebastian put on the armor of control he wore whenever things went wrong in the operating room and the air started to smell like panic. “And?”
“She told me that she likes me as a friend and nothing more.”
The air squeezed from his chest.
Leah wasn’t falling in love with Ben. And yet . . . what came as a tremendous relief to Sebastian was devastating his friend. “I’m sorry.”
“She just suddenly brought up the subject. Out of the blue. Which makes me think that you must have told her that I like her.”
Crap.
“Did you tell her that?” Ben prodded.
“And did you also tell her to go out to dinner with me?”
“Yes. I was trying to help.”
“I didn’t need your help,” Ben said tightly, clearly struggling with his temper. “I didn’t want your interference.”
“She had no idea that you liked her, Ben. She was never going to figure it out unless someone told her.”
“I disagree. She would have figured it out for herself. I wanted it to happen naturally.”
“You’ve known her for two years. When? When was she going to figure it out for herself?”
“I don’t know, but I was content waiting.”
“I wasn’t content watching you wait.”
“My relationship with Leah isn’t about you or your preferences,” Ben snapped.
Sebastian bit his lip to force himself to shut up. Tension filled the silence. He’d thought recently about how quickly Ben usually got over his anger. It didn’t look like that was going to happen this time. “You’re right. I apologize.”
More jagged quiet.
“You told Leah,” Ben said, “that one of your frustrations with me is that I don’t confront you when you do things that bother me. So let me tell you something outright.”
Sebastian braced himself. “Go ahead.”
“I’ve shared a lot with you over the years. My room. Vacations. Family gatherings.”
“Yes.”
“I know you like Leah, but I draw the line at sharing her with you.”
He didn’t answer.
“Sebastian?” Ben demanded.
“Okay.”
The line went dead. Sebastian cursed.
Ben had shared a lot more with him than the things he’d mentioned. During Sebastian’s two years of high school, Ben had shared some of his paycheck with Sebastian, so that Sebastian could join him at the movies, so that Sebastian didn’t have to wear an uncool brand of socks, so that Sebastian could split the pizzas Ben ordered. Ben had shared his parents’ attention with Sebastian. He’d shared his time and sweat moving Sebastian from one dorm room to another. These days, Ben even shared his nieces and nephews with Sebastian.
It had taken nineteen years, but he’d finally found the limit to what Ben was willing to share.
You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. Those inspirational words by A. A. Milne scrolled across a decorative sign displayed on the bookcase in Leah’s classroom.
Alas, though. The start of a new school year in August always tempted her to deduce that she was less brave than she believed, weaker than she seemed, and dumber than she thought.
By week two, things had started to settle. By week three, the kids gave her reason to hope. And now, on week four, they’d found their rhythm.
When Dylan was at football practice or out with his friends, she kept an eye on him via the phone app that tracked his position. When he was at home in his room, she spot-checked to make sure he wasn’t dead. During their nightly dinners, she forced him to have a conversation with her and to eat healthy meals that contained vegetables.
Blessedly, the dynamic between herself and Ben hadn’t been as uncomfortable as she’d feared after she’d divulged her position on dating him. His laidback, cheerful manner remained intact.
She continued to threaten to set him up because, earnestly, she wanted to set him up. If she found someone for him, she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about her failure to be to him what he’d hoped she might be. So far, he’d evaded her attempts at matchmaking.
Her search for a current address for Jonathan and Trina Brookside had proved equally unsuccessful. They were annoyingly savvy about protecting their privacy online. She couldn’t shake the notion, though, that the Brooksides’ current address must be ripe for the finding somewhere. She simply needed to peek under the correct rock.
She’d revisited the two online articles attributed to Jonathan Brookside at Gridwork Communications Corporation. It very well might be, of course, that another man with the same name had written those articles. But the location of Gridwork, just miles from the hospital where she’d been born, made plausible the possibility that the man who’d penned the articles was, indeed, her biological father.
During quiet moments, she mulled over how best to confirm whether the Jonathan of Gridwork was her Jonathan. And, if so, how to obtain his address from the company without arousing his suspicion. She’d yet to settle on the optimal strategy.
Sebastian continued to visit her in her dreams. Sebastian, lying beside her in the grass, propped up on an elbow, looking down at her. Sebastian, kissing her knuckles.
Occasionally, she indulged herself by driving by his house. Once, she spotted an empty plastic water bottle snagged in a cluster of bushes out front. Since his house was dim and obviously empty—and because she now comprehended that he valued a tidy lawn—she’d darted from her car and confiscated the bottle.
However, she had not had an opportunity to see him or talk to him for more than a month.
Until, that is, she traveled to Atlanta with Dylan to tour two colleges and visit one particular hospital.