past …
Bree felt as if a hand had reached into her chest, squeezed her heart, and the words, “I’m going to marry him,” came out of her mouth with no thinking on her part.
But once she said them, she knew they were true. A lifetime with this stranger stretched out before her, and she couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the pure joy of that vision.
Almost as if he had heard her, the stranger she knew she would marry looked away from the group of people surrounding him, tilted his head, smiled at her, and then returned to the conversation.
The friend standing beside her laughed and said, “Yea, right. How’s that going to happen? He’s the most popular teacher here, and you’re a lowly student.”
“He teaches here?”
“What, you don’t know who he is?”
“No.”
“Then how do you expect to marry him?”
Tossing her head, causing her dark curls to bounce wildly, Bree answered, “I don’t know. But I will. Wait and see.”
Her friend laughed again. “Okay. But if you do—not saying that you will—I want to be your bridesmaid, since I was here when you first saw the love of your life.”
“Deal, but only if you tell me everything you know about him.”
“Are you serious?”
Bree turned to her friend. She had known Cindy Lee Jones since they were both six years old. Bree had turned from where she was hiding in the cloakroom on the first day of first grade, afraid to face the class, and saw a girl crouched behind the umbrella stand.
For a minute they stared at each other, not sure what to do. Finally, Bree gathered up the small amount of courage she had and asked, “Afraid to go out there?”
The girl, her blond hair streaming down her back, blue eyes brimming with tears, nodded yes.
“Me too. But if we’re friends, we could go out together. I’m Bree.”
It took a minute, but eventually, the girl answered, “Cindy.”
Bree reached out her hand, Cindy stood, and they walked out together. The teacher took one look at the two of them, and to their great relief, put them side by side in the classroom. They had been side by side ever since.
Bree locked her hazel eyes into Cindy’s blue ones and gave her a look. That look said it all. Cindy learned long ago that Bree didn’t say things she didn’t mean, and if she wanted something, she’d figure out a way to get it.
“Not here. At the coffee shop at the HUB.”
Cindy looped her arm through Bree’s, pulling her away, but Bree couldn’t help herself. She stole one last look over her shoulder.
Although still talking to the gaggle of students, the man had moved so that he was watching her walk away. Bree turned around and smiled to herself. She knew he’d be watching.
Bree and Cindy spent the next hour huddled together at the campus coffee shop tucked inside a food court and recreation space called the HUB.
It was a good name for it. It was noisy with people coming and going, bright colors on the walls, and a tile floor that echoed sound mingled with the smell of coffee and food. But there were quiet corners if you wanted privacy.
Cindy found one of those corners, away from the hustle and bustle, while Bree paid for the drinks, figuring it was as good a bribe as any.
Once they settled in, Bree said she was ready to learn it all. Cindy laughed and told her everything she knew about the handsome and popular professor. It wasn’t much. Mostly rumors about who he was and where he had come from. No one really knew. All Cindy knew for sure was that Paul Mann taught statistics, and even people who didn’t like numbers tried to get into his class.
It wasn’t just his tall Adonis good looks. It was the way he taught. The way he gathered people into interesting discussions. That’s what Cindy had heard about him. But no matter how cool the statistics teacher was, Cindy wasn’t interested. She was an artist. To her way of thinking, those two things didn’t go together at all.
“Are you sure you want a man who thinks numbers are interesting?” Cindy asked her friend and waited for how Bree would rationalize this one.
Having grown up together, she knew Bree as well as anyone could. Bree shared, but only so much. On the other hand, Cindy was always spilling out her secrets to Bree. But to Bree’s credit, she had used none of them against her or shared them with others.
However, Bree didn’t realize that Cindy knew all of Bree’s secrets. All of them. Even the ones Bree had kept from everyone. Cindy had made it her business to know them. It was a way to always protect her friend, even if Bree thought she didn’t need it.
So as Bree asked about the man Bree said was her future husband, Cindy worried. Paul Stanford Mann looked a great deal like the boy who had broken Bree’s heart. Not that Bree told her it was broken or even acted sad, but Cindy was sure it was there, buried under Bree’s compulsion to get things done.
Cindy knew that Bree’s heart was held together with her steely determination. Even though it had been Bree who had stretched out her hand in the coat closet, it was Cindy who kept the two of them together.
It was Cindy who made sure that Bree knew she always had a friend, even when Bree acted as if she didn’t need one. Not believing her, Cindy had encouraged her to add more girls into their two-girl group until there were five of them. All different, but with one thing in common: to be more than their small town expected them to be.
They helped each other through school, supported each other’s dreams, and when it was time to choose a college, all five of them decided to go together. So, even though a few of them planned to leave town as soon as they could, they went to the small community college in town instead, because that was the only place all of them got into. It meant two more years together before they went their separate ways.
And although Cindy knew they would all branch out into the world, they would stay in touch forever. They had made a pact in grade school and they would honor it. So even if Bree married Mr. Hunky professor, it wouldn’t change anything.
Cindy was wrong, of course, but she believed it to be true that day in the coffee shop. So when two more members of their group wandered into the HUB looking for food, Cindy called them over, not fully appreciating how much everything would be different from then on.