“What happened?” His question, layered with more than the simple words, hung between us.
My ship, the USS Competence, was sinking anyway, so why bother trying to fix leaks in the hull? “Under the duress of the situation, I failed to remember I had dressed in, uh, something cooler. Not okay for everyone to see me like that.”
Did his cheeks redden? I leaned a little closer. Strong, tree-cutting, Bible-wielding men blushed? He awkwardly jabbed his fingers through his messy hair. Something in my heart melted. Did he feel as weird about the situation as I did?
His being awkward did more for me than his confidence could. My shoulders relaxed. “Look, I haven’t been fair to you. You’ve gone way above and beyond helping me. You’ve kept your promise to Ida, and I know she’d be thankful for all you’ve put up with from me. I’m sorry I can be such a train wreck. I was scared, embarrassed, and frustrated.”
I took a breath, and Ryan immediately filled the space.
“And when I made fun of you, that compounded the already high emotions.” He reached for pockets he didn’t have in his pajama pants and settled for holding his hands in front of him instead. “I’m really sorry for that. I thought I could make you laugh. Hurting you was never my intention.”
This new emotional-discussion territory felt strange and uneven beneath me. I took another step across the rocky ground of honesty and vulnerability, checking my balance. “I overreacted. It wasn’t what you said. I just suddenly realized I was barely dressed. After already being humiliated in front of a policeman and half the street, I couldn’t take the added disgrace of you thinking less of me.”
His head pulled back as though an invisible hand had swatted his face. “Think less of you? What are you talking about?”
Here came that moment. The one where I said too much. Maybe I’d already passed that line. I couldn’t even tell anymore. But one thing suddenly became glaringly clear.
I didn’t want to be who I’d become. And I didn’t mean who I’d become since meeting Ida. I didn’t want to be the hardened woman from Atlanta. Somewhere along the way a hopeful, imaginative child had turned into a distant, guarded, and lonely woman.
A woman who’d lived with a man not her husband and let him chip away at everything within her that should have been cherished, not scrutinized and found lacking. I didn’t want to be the cold woman who maintained her composure by pushing away anything real in her life because she was too afraid to relive the rejection.
Was there a different option? Could I step out of that shell and, instead of walking around like the blue crab, maybe grow a different shell? One that fit a little better?
Maybe that was exactly what Ida had wanted. I owed it to her—and maybe myself—to find out.
Ryan still stared at me. His eyes swam with concern and confusion, but he’d stood there and waited, letting me think through what I wanted to say. I respected him for that.
I hitched up my shoulder. “You’re a good guy, Preacher Man. You were kind in my moment of fear and”—heat crept up my neck, and I resisted the urge to scratch it—“you comforted me. I didn’t want you compromising your good standing by being too close to a…um…” What was the right word? This wasn’t the Victorian era in one of my library books. And I’d been more clothed than most women on the beach. I’d hadn’t been naked, and his embrace had been friendly, not inappropriate. I scrubbed my hands down my face.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t understand. You were woken up in the middle of the night. It’s hot in here because you don’t have air conditioning. No one thinks you should have stopped in the middle of all of that to change clothes.” He leaned against the doorframe. “What’s this really about?”
The way his eyes probed my face, he seemed to think I had some kind of ulterior motive for my actions. I didn’t. My conflicting emotions spun like a hurricane inside me, scooping up any logical reasoning and twisting it around on the winds of confusion. I was acting crazy. I could see that.
“Want to know what I think?” He arched an eyebrow and proceeded to tell me without my answer. “I think you’re scared. There’s been a lot happening, and a lot of things confuse you. Tonight compounded a lot of emotions, and they became overwhelming.”
I could only nod.
“But no one, least of all me, thinks less of you because you got upset.” He jabbed his hand through his hair again but held my gaze. “And I don’t think anything bad about you because of your pajamas.”
I wrapped my arms around my middle and dug my toe into the carpet. I’d made a fool of myself, but he didn’t hold it against me. Not even when I tried to hold it against myself.
“You’re really upset because you feel like you’ve lost control. Things are happening that you can’t do anything about, and so you’re grasping for anything you can have some power over.”
The air left my lungs. I blinked. Twice. Tried to focus. My forehead wrinkled so deeply I could feel it crowding my nose.
He was totally right.
How had he been able to decode Hurricane Emotion when I hadn’t? Something about that deeply unsettled me, so I shoved it aside to examine later.
Ryan looked at me expectantly.
“Uh, yeah. I think you’re right.” Great. A gaping hole in the USS Composure, and my entire fleet was about to sink.
A warm smile spread over his face. “It’s okay to not be okay. You’ve been through a lot. Being emotional is natural.” He lifted a hand like he wanted to reach for me but used it to rub the back of his neck instead. “But, you know, God can help you through it. Maybe in the middle of all of this, He’s using uncertain circumstances to get you to turn to Him.”
I pressed my lips together, my desperate little prayer from earlier pushing into my mind. I’d asked God for help. Ryan stood right in front of me. Nancy and her church ladies would make sure I didn’t starve. People cared about me.
Maybe this was my chance to finally make some changes in my life. I offered a warbling smile, and his next words washed over me like a summer breeze.
“You’re not alone. I’ve got you.”
19
Emma
I am not alone. Remembering Ryan’s words helped a little, but not much. Sometimes being in a crowd could make a person feel more alone than ever. But if I chose to be alone because I was too chicken to take any chances to get to know people, that was my own fault.
I sat in my car and watched the church people file into the building. Many were dressed in their finest, but some came in clean, but decidedly humble clothing. The first time I’d come here, everyone seemed to be better off than I was. When I looked a little closer, maybe without my own judgy eyes, I noticed something different. Many of these smiling families looked like hardworking people, not pretentious snobs. Why hadn’t I seen that the first time?
Waffling in indecision, I gripped the steering wheel. If I went in now, I could probably get a seat in the back. But I’d have to sit there uncomfortably until the service started and would be expected to introduce myself to every curious person who passed by. I mean, I wanted to take a few risks and put myself out there a little, but maybe not that much. On the other hand, if I stayed here, I could be late. Maybe end up in the front row again. Everyone would look at me when I had to walk past them. Neither option seemed appealing.