Page 32 of Love Rescheduled

Josh tilted his head, looking concerned about the way I was stepping away from him. “I got up early so I could go with you.”

I had wondered what he was doing up before noon. “Oh. Um. Well. You didn’t have to do that.”

His face tinged red. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “There are a lot of things I don’t have to do, but I want to do them. Funny how that works. Did you know you can do things just because you want to? Maybe you should try it sometime.” He shut the door in my face.

I stood there in the throes of his rebuke, trying to think of a clever response, but nothing was coming to me except for how angry I was at him for being right. “Yeah, well … some people want to stab other people; it doesn’t mean they should.” I raised my voice, wishing I hadn’t for how weak my retort was.

“That was lame, Nat, and you know it.”

I hung my head in shame but determined to come up with the ultimate response that would prove to him that just because you want something, doesn’t mean it’s right. Hopefully, something would come to me on my walk.

I turned to go, feeling deflated and defeated. Was I just holding myself back again? Probably. But it was for a noble reason, right?

“By the way, you’re not a freak,” Josh yelled out.

I stopped and turned around. “What?”

He opened the door a crack and peeked his head out. “Earlier in our conversation, you said you were a freak on display. You’re not a freak, Nat. You’re a victim of your childhood.”

There was that word again—victim. I hated it. My eyes stung with tears.

“I know you don’t want to believe it, but that’s what you are. It’s made you who you are. An incredible woman who has some unhealthy coping skills.”

My jaw dropped at the insinuation. I wouldn’t exactly call them unhealthy.

“Don’t look at me like that. Deep down, you know it’s true. Natalie,” he sighed, “the best times in my life have been when you allowed yourself to let go, even if it was just for a moment. If I were a betting man, and you know I am, I would say they were your best times, too.” He flashed me a sly grin. “Remember that time we went with my parents to their cabin in Gatlinburg? And there were no schedules? Just day in and day out of us sleeping in until we wanted to and then playing games and exploring the town and mountains. How about our secret jaunts into the river at night?” he said as seductively as he could.

Oh, I remembered it all, and it showed in my burning cheeks.

“Nat, you can’t tell me you weren’t happy during that week.”

It was the happiest I had ever been. But … “That was a vacation.”

“A spontaneous one,” he added.

True. But I had some other lame excuses to throw out there. “One where everyone recognized you and stopped us wherever we went,” I grumbled.

Josh let out an exasperated breath. “You’re just grasping at straws now. You didn’t once complain that week. You know why?” He didn’t give me time to answer. Not that I could have, anyway. I don’t know why it didn’t bother me that week. “I’ll tell you why. It’s because you were yourself that week.”

I scrunched my nose. “I’m always myself.”

“That’s not true. You like to hide behind your schedules and insecurities, but that’s not really you.”

I faltered, feeling as if I’d been sprayed in the face with a hefty dose of cold water. He was saying things I didn’t entirely appreciate.

His features softened, knowing he was causing me serious turmoil. “That’s not to say I don’t understand why you do what you do. But at least be honest with yourself. Have fun on your walk.” He shut the door on me in more ways than one.

I should have been relieved he was finally seeing the light that was revealing just how much we didn’t belong together. But all I felt was alone in the dark.

I LOOKED AT MYSELF IN Nana’s old oval standing mirror. The wood needed to be sanded down and refinished. It’s kind of how I felt staring at myself in a fitted black jacket that accentuated my waist and slim black ankle pants. I was dressed more for a boardroom than a date. I had a playful jumpsuit with wide legs and ruffled cap sleeves hanging in the closet; I had bought it a year ago when I went shopping with Tara and Jolene. They had convinced me it was calling my name and if I didn’t buy it, it would be a tragedy. It looked amazing on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to wear the attention-grabbing outfit even though it rocked all my curves and said I was fun. That’s the thing, though; I wasn’t a “fun” person. I was the sensible designated driver person. The person who kept track of how many drinks Tara and Jolene had and, based on their weight and how much they had eaten, let them know what their blood alcohol level was. Why they were still friends with me, I didn’t know.

Just like I had no idea why Josh was still here. We hadn’t talked since this morning. As far as I knew, he’d hung out on the couch all day and watched TV. I think he was pouting. Meanwhile, I’d tried to work but kept getting distracted by his accusation that I wasn’t honest with myself. I wasn’t sure that was a fair assessment. I readily admitted I was quirky, possibly neurotic at times. How many people would own up to such a thing? Josh was crazy to think that some carefree woman lived inside this uptight control freak. That being said, I knew I needed to loosen up a bit. And I was trying. For crying out loud, I was going on a blind date, and I was trying to schedule love. If that wasn’t progress, I didn’t know what was. I was trying to free myself in the ways I could.

I debated on whether I should change into the jumpsuit, but when I stared into the mirror, all I could see was my red hair that inherently drew enough attention. Then I nitpicked how my teeth had shifted slightly despite the permanent retainer that should have prevented such a possibility. Or that my right eyelashes always seemed fuller than my left eyelashes. I could hear Alec screaming at me how important it is to speak kindly to oneself and to jump off this negative train as quickly as possible. But the train was speeding down the tracks, and I was afraid to jump off.

I stayed in the boring pantsuit.

Thoughts of canceling the date began creeping in like a warm and fuzzy friend who pretended to love me but, in reality, was my worst enemy. She wouldn’t thwart me. There was no way I was going to tell Josh I was canceling. He was going to see he needed to find another Camila, no matter how much I hated the thought. She was like Gatlinburg Natalie all the time, except sexier and funnier. Oh geez, I just needed to leave before I hopped on the Camila train again. It always ended in a fiery crash of self-loathing. Choo choo.

---