Page 177 of Things I Wish I Said
“You’re nervous.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “It’s been a long time. What if he hates me?”
Victoria stands, takes my hands in hers, and squeezes. “He doesn’t.”
“Do you know that?”
What I’m really asking is if he’s asked about me in any capacity.
Victoria shakes her head. She’s not one to pull punches, and I like that about her. It reminds me of myself.
“He hasn’t spoken your name since the week he got home, but sometimes, mothers just know these things.”
Her words give me little consolation.
I nod toward the desk where her laptop is open to a real estate listing. “Did you find a place yet?” Part of taking Wishing Well national means finding office space. Victoria’s office will no longer suffice.
Victoria shifts, leaning against the edge of her desk and giving me a better view of the computer. “I think I like this one. It’s new and in a great location. I made us an appointment to see it next week when you’re back.” Then turning back to me, she asks, “Did you get the reservation info I sent you?”
“Yes. You didn’t have to do that.”
She waves me off. “Nonsense. I wanted to. Consider it a work expense. After all, you’re going to school for your MBA as my employee, with an emphasis on marketing so you can help grow the company. It’s the least I could do.”
While it’s true I’m headed to Northern Virginia Community College tomorrow to enroll early for classes in the spring, Victoria has done a hell of a lot more than that for me in the short time I’ve known her.
I chew my lip as my thoughts darken. “Unless Grayson wants nothing to do with me, then I might as well go to a community college closer to home.”
“Not going to happen.”
“I wish I had your confidence,” I grumble.
“You made the triple chocolate chunk cookies he likes?”
I nod. Turns out, I love baking. “I have them in the car.”
Victoria reaches behind her to her desk and scoops up a piece of paper, handing it over. “I jotted down his class schedule today. He has only one this morning and another at midday. After that, he might be harder to track down.”
I glance at the paper and realize if I want to catch him outside of his second class, I’d better get going. “Thanks.”
“Let me know how it goes, will you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
It takes everything in me to turn around and walk back out the door, because once I get to George Mason and confrontGrayson, there’s no going back. He’ll either forgive me or he won’t. We’ll either be together again, or my heart will be broken.
The waiting is torture, but the waiting means I don’t have to face the risk of rejection.
I slide inside my car and make the drive to Fairfax. It’s only an hour forty-five minutes from Lincoln, and the time passes quickly.
I park in visitor parking and start toward Krug Hall where Grayson has his noon class. It’s a beautiful sunny day, the temperature an ambient seventy degrees, and it shows. People are everywhere: congregating outside the buildings, sprawled out on the lawn, talking outside of classes, and walking in droves on the sidewalks into the city.
A short time ago, this would’ve been my life. I would’ve been a student at a huge campus like George Mason, headed to and from practices and games.
Funny how it no longer hurts to think about. I’m oddly content with the future I’ve planned for myself, and completely satisfied with my present, with the exception of one thing . . .
I reach Krug Hall with time to spare, so I hover outside the main doors, too afraid to go further and miss him, and wondering what I’ll do if he heads out some alternate exit.
Pushing the thought aside, I exhale, trying to steel my nerves and prepare myself for the moment I see him. Will he turn and walk away without so much as a word? Will he tell me to go home? Yell and shout? Embarrass me in front of the other students?
