Unknown: I am kind of grumpy with most people, but not with you.
Now it’s my turn to let the digital bubbles float, to let my heart float, as I start and stop a few messages before hitting send.
Me: Why aren’t you grumpy with me?
Unknown: For a million reasons I haven’t figured out yet.
My heart performs a triplet in my chest, turning over once, twice, and again, the beat irregular as I read and re-read what he wrote.
Me: Do you want to figure it out?
Unknown: I think yeah, very much . . .TBH. ;-)
My grin grows so wide, I’m probably showing all my teeth. If this were a game, I’d be showing all my cards, but it’s not a game. It’s butterflies and emoticons and heart eyes. It’s risk and emotion and intimacy and all the things a girl like me dreads. I’ve sworn off Prince Charmings, and the unresolved issues of my past keep intruding on the fairy-tale. It’s not a fairy-tale.
IRL.
Me: SUBJECT: Saturday. We’ll see.
10
Lotus
“I’m so proud of you, Lo.”
Iris’s encouragement has me clutching the phone tight like it’s my lifeline. Like she’s my lifeline, which she has been to me and I have been to her since we were kids.
“I haven’t done anything yet.” My short laugh is as shaky as my insides.
“You’re the strongest chick I know,” Iris says. “And taking this step to get help doesn’t make you weaker. It makes you stronger.”
Would Iris still think I was strong if she knew I’d been standing in front of this Presbyterian church in Brooklyn for the last forty-five minutes? That the Thursday night meeting ends soon, and I haven’t worked up the nerve to go inside?
“Thanks,” I reply faintly. I glance up the flight of concrete steps leading to the church entrance.
“Call me later to tell me how it went,” Iris says. “I have a doctor’s appointment, but I’ll be available other than that.”
I welcome discussing something besides my crazy. I’ve been genuinely concerned about Iris’s pregnancy.