Page 3 of The Invitation
“Well, I spent most of that weekend setting intentions for my life. I dreamed big. Created vision boards. I took a deep dive into who I am as a person and who I wanted to be. Where did I see myself in my personal life? Professionally? Emotionally? Spiritually?”
“Are those rhetorical questions?” I ask, grinning.
“Tease me all you want because all my intentions came true.”
She sits back, crossing her arms over her chest with a smug smile.
“And I’m thrilled for you,” I say, noticing an incoming text from my mom. “But it unnerves me to place my hopes and dreams into the hands of …does the universe have hands?”
Sutton’s annoyance at my failure to take her woo-woo seriously is written all over her pretty face.
“I love that it worked for you,” I say. “But I’m more confident in using actionable items than vision boards and weekend retreats.”
“Fair enough. But where have those actionable items gotten you lately?”
I gasp. “The audacity.” Knowing I can’t pretend she’s wrong, I sigh. “Also, good point.”
“Thank you. Now, humor me. What are your biggest dreams? What would you hope to find if you could see three years into the future?”
“That’s easy. Employment. Cheap wine. And a new wardrobe to fit the body I earned by actually working out five times a week instead of sitting in the gym parking lot and warring over whether to go inside or leave to get chicken nuggets.”
She narrows her eyes, shaking her head. The server, Bobby, momentarily interrupts her scowl by delivering another round of martinis. Sutton mumbles something that makes him laugh.
The alcohol warms my blood and loosens the muscles across the back of my neck. It’s a nice respite from the stress I’ve been holding on to for the past few weeks.
I ponder Sutton’s question while she chitchats with Bobby.What is my biggest dream? The straightforward question doesn’t warrant the slight tightness in my chest,but there it is. If I don’t nip this in the bud now, that tightness will grow.
I’ve considered this often lately. It’s obvious that over the past few years, I stopped working toward a dream. Not only did I abandon my ambitions, but I stopped dreaming altogether. Life, heartbreak, and fear will do that to a person.
No one talks about this. There aren’t trending books or podcasts for the dreamless crowd.
Someone needs to make that happen.
“Okay,” Sutton says as Bobby heads for the bar. “Back to your dreams. Gimme.”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I could give you an answer, but it would be bullshit.”
Her brows knit together. “Do you have any dreams at all?”
“I mean, not really.I know that’s a problem,” I say, cutting her off. “I need to figure out what I want to do with my life, but I’m not going to figure it out tonight. So let’s talk about fun stuff like your wedding.” I smile. “Did you decide on a date yet?”
Sutton’s face lights up, and she leans against the table. “Kind of. We’ve decided on either September or October next year. I have no interest in sweating my way through a Tennessee summer wedding, and the spring is too soon. Besides, the foliage is beautiful in autumn, and I heard my chances of renting the Knopf Estate for the ceremony are better then.”
“Well, I have a lot of time on my hands right now. If you need early planning help, I’m your girl.”
“And my maid of honor, I hope.”
I laugh. “You’ll have a big problem on your hands if you even try to give that spot to someone else.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah, of course. Why?” I ask, my stomach twisting as I take in the look on her face.
She rests her elbows on the table and nibbles her bottom lip. “Jeremiah picked his best man.”
“So?”
She exhales a long, semi-shaky breath. “So he picked Ripley.”
