Providence

“See ya!” Beth chirped.

I smiled and waved to him as he turned to walk away.

Beth grabbed my arm and pul ed me along with her as she walked. “Neeenah! What are you going to do about him? He’s in love with you!”

“He is not,” I said, glowering at her. “He just hasn’t accepted our strictly platonic relationship, yet.”

“And you think he wil ?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding once.

“Or you hope he wil ?”

“He wil .”

“Because you’re in love with Jared?” she grinned.

“I barely know Jared!” I said, irritated. “Beth, you have to hear how ridiculous you sound right now. Ryan loves me, I love Jared. I’ve known them both for about two seconds.”

“You are in denial.”

I rol ed my eyes. “I’m going to see my mother tomorrow. Do you want to come with me?”

“No, I have a meeting.”

I raised one eyebrow. “What kind of meeting?”

“I’m not talking about it, you’l laugh at me.”

“Tel me, Beth. I won’t laugh,” I said, hooking my arm around hers.

She pressed her lips together and then sighed in resignation. “We’re starting a group for students from Oklahoma.”

“How many are there?” My words were involuntarily tinged with disbelief.

“A few!” she said defensively.

I fought a grin. “Are you going to have square dances and fight with the Native American Club?”

“You’re not funny.”

I chuckled and looked away. “That was pretty funny.”

“You know the parking meter was invented in Oklahoma? And the shopping cart…? Invented in Oklahoma, too! The yield sign, the autopilot, voicemail! Al because of Oklahomans. Bil Gates was inspired by an article penned by Ed Roberts, an Oklahoman. We have affordable housing, natural gas, Wil Rogers, and the Sooners!

“The Oklahoma jokes are getting real y old. We’re not a bunch of hil bil ies…you’re friends with me, aren’t you?” she said, breathless.

“Yes, Beth! Yes, we’re friends! You’re right, I’m sorry. I won’t say anything else about Oklahoma.” I could feel my eyes widen in bewilderment. Beth was upset with me.

“And that goes for Kim, too,” she grumbled.

“I can’t speak for Kim, but don’t hold your breath.”

Beth tried not to smile, but giggled, anyway. I smiled apologetical y and we hugged just outside of our dorm room.

“You’re crazy, but I love you, anyway,” I giggled.

“I love you, too. I wouldn’t rather be shacked up with any other Yankee,” she said in a horrible southern drawl.

The next morning Beth decided to rise early and head out with me for coffee. I felt closer to her after our understanding the night before, and she seemed to be in an uncharacteristical y good mood for being up so early.

Classes went by without delay. Before I knew it, I was sitting in my room alone, thinking about Jared and his unexplained appearances in my life. My mind abruptly switched to Mr. Dawson. I picked up my cel phone and dialed Thomas’ office. His secretary answered and informed me that he was out for the day. I hung up, frustrated.

I couldn’t recal a secret safe or any important real estate deal my father was involved in, which wasn’t exactly surprising. I was typical y clueless about my father’s business dealings and had grateful y remained that way. That was before strange men started fol owing me around, though. At least one person thought I had access to that file. I had to know why it was so important.

I burst through the door of my parents’ home and cal ed for Agatha.

“Yes, Nina love! What’s the racket about?” she answered, scurrying around the corner.

“Is Mother home?”

“She’s at Crestwood, planning something ‘er other. You know how busy she keeps these days.”

Of course she would be out. Immediately after Jack’s funeral, my mother immersed herself into every group, every organization, and every charity she could find. She had several meetings a day and, although it was at times frustrating being unable to reach her, I was appreciative of her time wel spent away from my dorm room.

After an hour of thumbing through my mother’s mail and snooping in every closet downstairs, I headed to Jack’s office. It was the most obvious place to look, so I assumed I wouldn’t find anything that would be of help. I took my hand off the knob and had almost convinced myself to look elsewhere, but I wheeled around and shoved myself through the door.

It hadn’t changed.

His mahogany desk and swivel chair sat commandingly in the center of the room. Hundreds of books including tax law, encyclopedias, poetry, the classics and Dr. Seuss lined the back wal .

I crossed his plush, imported rug and planted myself in the desk chair. The last papers he had looked over before his accident lay strewn on one side, and unopened envelopes on the other. I started with those. Opening one after another, I sifted through statements, invitations, requests and letters. Seeing nothing of interest, I pitched them into the wastebasket under the desk.

Just as I was about to put the letter opener back inside the drawer, the inscription caught my eye. My mother had purchased it for me so I could give it to Jack for his birthday. The inscription read simply, “To Daddy Love, Nina”. I ran my finger over the words affectionately and shoved it into my back pocket. My mother wouldn’t miss it.

My eyes flitted to a two-inch stack of papers with sign here stickers poking out in various bright colors. I thumbed through them, but didn’t see anything about properties.

I pul ed his lower desk drawer open and thumbed through every file, but I saw nothing of importance. Searching the remaining drawers, I rifled through old photos, envelopes, paperwork from the last ten years of tax filings, and a set of car keys. I slammed the last drawer shut and puffed.

My eyes wandered over to the file cabinets along the left wal . I started with the highest drawer in the cabinet closest to the back wal and searched for anything pertaining to properties, commercial or otherwise. I began to feel possessed. Every time I shut a drawer, I stifled a sob. Each drawer was slammed harder and harder. Only one cabinet wouldn’t open.

While searching through the last drawer my hands began to shake. Upon finding no suspicious evidence or anything related to Mr. Dawson I kicked the drawer shut, causing the cabinet to rock back and forth.

“AGH!” I stomped, bal ing my hands into fists at my sides.

I paced in a smal circle for a minute, and then made my way to the desk chair and col apsed. A smal bronze frame sat to my left. It was of me and Jack when I was about four years old. We had gone on vacation to the Grand Canyon and I had fal en. I looked closer to verify my bandaged knee and smiled. I was sitting on my father’s lap; he had just finished cleaning up the dirt and blood and used a colorful bandage from my mother’s purse.

He kissed my knee and told me that it was al better, and even though the sting remained, I nodded my head in belief.

The colors were al so vivid, as was my memory. My eyes fil ed with tears and I looked around, horrified that I was in Jack’s office and at what I was doing there. Mr. Dawson, a complete stranger, had made me doubt my father. I wiped my face and quickly straightened his desk. The door slammed behind me as I quickly descended the stairs.

“Miss Nina?” Agatha cal ed after me, but I raced past her, too intent on escaping the shame that I felt.

I yanked my BMW into gear and flew down the driveway into the street. Tears streamed down my face and I felt my body shudder in the same sobs I had worked so hard to rid myself of. Too many questions and no answers, everything that had made sense died with my father.

The flickering street lamps flew by as I sped down the road. As I passed the bus stop where I’d first met Jared. I noticed someone sitting on the bench and slammed on my brakes. I jerked the gear into reverse and my car made a grievous whirring noise as I back-tracked. My tires screeched to a halt straight across from where Jared sat.

Shoving my way out of the car, I stomped to the middle of the street. “Are you fol owing me?”

“Are you al right?” he asked, concern overshadowing his flawless features.

“What are you doing here, damn it?” I yel ed.

He stood up and held his arms out to me, but I shook my head. He stopped and furrowed his brow. “Nina, come here.”

“I want answers, Jared. You show up in my life, tel me you have these feelings for me. You won’t give me your number, and you al but refused mine.” I took a step toward him, and he a step toward me.

“Nina, I know you’re upset, but it’s going to be okay.” His voice was calm and soothing, almost too much so, as if he was trying to talk me down from a ledge.

“I’m standing in the middle of the street bawling my eyes out and yel ing at you, Jared! Why aren’t you asking me what’s wrong? Why don’t you ever ask me questions?” Jared thought for a moment, seeming surprised at my observation. He took another step toward me with outstretched arms, begging to hold me.

“Is it feelings you have for me? Or are you just fol owing me around because you feel sorry for me? Is it because I’m some tragic, fatherless basket case that you’ve decided to make a charity project out of?”

His eyes turned angry and his arms lowered. “You know that’s not true.”

As he took another step, his face for once didn’t try to hide emotion. His eyes ached for me to come to him; I could see that my tears caused him pain. I leaned into his arms and he wrapped them around me without hesitation.

I relaxed in his embrace for a moment, the warmth of his arms provided instant comfort.

He leaned down to press his cheek against my temple. “It’s more than just feelings, Nina. You have to know that.”

I peered up at him with damp eyes. “Then why haven’t you…?”

“What?” he asked. I shook my head at first, but he pul ed me closer to him and his eyes begged me to confess my thoughts. “Tel me.”

“Why haven’t you tried to kiss me?”

He seemed stunned, and then his eyes settled on my lips. I watched as his expression changed from desire, to conflicted, to a decision. I didn’t know what it al meant, so I closed my eyes and leaned into him, knowing his lips were just a few inches from mine. I felt his grip tighten and he held me at bay. My eyes popped open, humiliation crashing over me in waves. Adding to my already crippling embarrassment, tears once again spil ed over my cheeks.

His eyes closed tight and his face crumpled. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

The humiliation stil flamed my face, but it was now obscured by my anger. I’d grown weary of his vague non-answers. He would offer a tiny bit of truth shrouded in confusing ambiguity and my patience had reached its limit.

Seeing the resentment in my eyes, Jared let out a frustrated sigh. He released me and walked across the street to an impressive black motorcycle parked behind the bench. Without looking back he turned the key, and with a push of the button the engine roared to life. The motor snarled as he revved it a few times before speeding off the sidewalk and down the street.

The weekend came and went. Beth and I attended the basketbal game and Kim, Beth and I joined Ryan, Josh, Tucker, and Chad for air hockey and nachos. I refused to talk about Jared, even with Beth. I couldn’t even bring myself to explain what had happened that caused me to be so furious anytime they mentioned his name.

Ryan seemed to enjoy my change of heart. One night he cal ed to ask me for help with his chemistry, and we found ourselves sitting on the floor of my dorm room alone.

“No…it’s….” I pressed my lips together as I rewrote the last line.

“Chad said he failed this test last year,” Ryan grumbled.

“Wel , Chad didn’t have me for a tutor, now did he?” I threw my pencil at him and it bounced to the floor.

“Tutor or not, this test is gonna suck.”

“Have you lost your faith in me?”

“Have you reconsidered my offer, yet?” he grinned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shrugged, playing dumb.

“Yes, you do. It’s okay if you haven’t….you wil eventual y,” he smiled wide.

“I’m fairly certain I won’t be interested in dating for a long, long time.”

Ryan didn’t skip a beat. “I’l wait.”

Chapter Four

The Ring

The next weeks proved to be fairly mundane. I hadn’t seen Jared or Mr. Dawson, and Ryan’s propositions had tapered off. Beth had been noticeably absent from our room. I hadn’t even been sequestered for a bal game.

I didn’t leave campus for further theory-testing walks, and I tried not to venture off campus in general. My feelings were conflicted at any given second between being desperate to see Jared again and cringing at thoughts of any chance run-ins. I committed to pushing him from my mind, even if I had to do it a thousand times a day.

At study group, Ryan and I took our normal spots to work together on his latest academic crisis. Kim passed the time by shooting rubber bands at Josh while Beth and the new girl, Nicole, compared notes.

Josh caught one of Kim’s rubber missiles in mid-air and yawned. “So, when are we going out again?”

Kim shrugged. “I don’t know. When do you want to go?”

“I don’t think Nina’s up to it,” Beth hinted. The entire group stared at me with a mixture of pitiful and expectant expressions that I was desperate to deflect.

“Of course I’m up for it,” I said, aiming for a casual tone.

In truth, going out again with the same people to the same place made me anxious that we were just asking for a repeat, and I wasn’t ready to see Jared again. In the same moment, I worried that he wouldn’t show.