Authors: Sally Bradley
“I won’t judge you.”
Was that what he thought? That she was going to confess some great sin? “It’s just what you said. Life is hard. Unfair.”
She toyed with her lasagna, pulling cheese to the side, pushing sausage and beef in another direction. Tomato sauce clung to everything. “I’ll probably regret this later, but you and Tracy and Garrett—” She swallowed the words, then let them out. “Tracy told me last night about her past and Garrett’s past.”
He frowned at his plate. “Oh.”
“She didn’t go into detail about Garrett. I guess he did some things your family didn’t like.”
He set his good hand on his hip, elbow out, and stared at his plate.
“Tracy and Garrett, they’re… waiting.”
He gave a slow nod.
“But…” How did she ask this without it coming across wrong? “Why are they waiting? If neither one is a virgin?”
“It goes back to the Bible.”
“Which says?”
“That sex is to be saved for marriage. For that person you marry.”
“Why?”
The planes of his face tightened.
“You don’t seem to want to talk about this.”
“It’s not that. It just seems kind of obvious.”
Really?
“If you’re faithful to one person for your whole life, there’s a lot less pain and risk. If you wait until marriage, there’s no fear of being left for another—”
“That’s not true. That happens all the time.”
“Sure, but in what circumstances? Someone strayed from the relationship. Or they never married so it didn’t seem wrong to throw that person away.”
“People in marriages divorce all the time.”
“They do, but how often would it be if people did things the way the Bible says? If they followed God’s plan, if they waited until they were married—”
“Have you waited?”
There. It was out, the question she’d been longing to ask since last night. Miska waited for the answer, hoping to hear yes, hoping to hear no. Hoping…
He looked from her to the plate in front of him, to the lasagna with only a couple bites taken.
He hadn’t waited? Really? After everything he’d said? After this whole insane conversation? She stabbed a piece of lettuce. Then another.
“Why do you want to know?” he finally asked.
He sounded beaten. Of course. Because he’d been caught. Fake. Hypocrite. She jammed the fork into her mouth, stabbing her tongue. Liar.
He looked up. “Why, Miska?”
She chewed her food. Glared at him. Swallowed. “Because men don’t wait. Ever. All the boys I knew in high school, my brothers, my father, men my mom dated. Men
I’ve
dated. They don’t wait. Garrett didn’t—”
“Some do.”
“Name one.”
He heaved a sigh and looked her in the eye. “I have.”
She stilled in her chair.
He held her gaze, his honesty undeniably clear.
He’d waited? For marriage? Which meant— “You’re a virgin?”
He gave a simple nod.
“Why?” She couldn’t keep quiet. “Dillan, that makes no sense. Why would you do that to yourself?”
“It’s the other way around. Why would I want to go against what God says is right? Against the guidelines he’s put down to protect me?”
“
Protect
you?”
“Yes, protection. God doesn’t tell us to wait to yank us around. It’s for our own good.”
She could feel her heart breaking. “You’re almost twenty-nine. And you’ve never…”
He nodded again. “I’ve never.”
“How can you wait? How can you deny yourself every day?”
He straightened and looked around the room.
“You’re even embarrassed about—”
“No, I’m not.”
His harshness froze her.
His eyes were dark, his jaw and mouth tight.
“I’m sorry. I’m not making fun. I just… I don’t get it. It’s not natural. It’s just not.”
“So you wouldn’t want a man who was a virgin.”
“No.” She folded her arms across her stomach. A man like that would be so clueless, so inexperienced.
“You’d rather have a man who brought risks, who’d proven he didn’t stick around. A man who valued sex more than the woman who gave it to him, who used her and kept her around as long as she made him happy. Forget about what she wants.”
She looked up to find him studying her. For several long seconds, their gazes held.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “To me, it’s the other way around. Imagine a man coming to you and saying, ‘Hey, I’ve waited for you. All these years I’ve kept myself for you. Kept myself pure for your sake, for us. And now here it is. I give it to you, Miska. And no one else.’ You’re telling me you wouldn’t want that?”
I give it to you, Miska.
A tear slid down her cheek before she could stop it. The image of a man like Dillan—no, Dillan himself—offering such a gift was heartbreakingly wrenching. Because it would never happen. Not to her.
She covered her face, struggling to keep herself together. She pictured Mark. Kendall. Jared. Gordon. So many others. None of them had come to her like that.
She hadn’t gone to a single one like that.
Dillan cleared his throat. His silverware clanked against his plate. His chair scraped.
She drew in a shuddering breath and wiped her face. When she looked up, he stood over her trash can, scraping the remains of his meal into the trash.
She hurried to her feet, frantic to think of a way to get him to stay. “Do you want to take some home? I can pack up—”
“I’m fine.”
“You hardly ate.”
“Yeah, well…” He set the plate in her sink, then stood there and looked at it. “I should go.”
She disgusted him. She knew it. If she were the only woman left, he would never bring his virginity to her.
Well, it would be his loss. She knew how to give a man a good time. Knew well. Anyway, he couldn’t be right. He was the only virgin she knew. The only one.
One person couldn’t be right.
She followed him to the door. If he were a virgin, it was his own stupid fault. All this pious nonsense about waiting. No, she wasn’t buying it. He was deformed somehow. Or he’d been turned down or made fun of in some way. He probably wasn’t even a virgin. Maybe he was gay—and ashamed of it. Saying he was waiting for the right woman, all that Bible nonsense—that was his way of hiding it.
What kind of man said no to sex? Not a masculine man, for sure.
Dillan opened her door and looked at her. He stopped, his forehead lined. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’ve got this look on your face.”
“A guilty look? The look of someone who’s seen the error of her ways?”
His eyes narrowed. “No, the look of someone who’s ticked.”
“I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right. Thanks for lunch and the interesting conversation.” He tipped his head in good-bye. “See you.”
Not if she could help it.
She slammed the door behind him.
In the kitchen she glared at the table and dishes. What a joke lunch had been.
She snorted. What a joke Dillan had turned out to be.
Her closed laptop called from her desk. She eyed it. Wouldn’t this be an interesting blog post, sharing his whacked-out view. It would be different than her usual posts.
She settled onto her chair and woke the computer. Dillan could tell his version of things all he wanted, but so could she.
And far more people listened to her than to him.
“Misky, this tastes amazing.” Adrienne took another bite of salmon and spoke around her full mouth. “Makes me want to learn to cook.”
Seated at the island beside Adrienne, Miska dug into her own fish. “Someday you’ll have to or you’ll turn into a blimp.”
“Until then, I’ll mooch off you.”
Which hadn’t happened in a long time. “Where’ve you been? You seeing someone?”
A smile twisted Adrienne’s mouth.
“I knew it. How long?”
“Just this week.”
“No way.”
“Really. Other than that, I’ve had tons of work.”
“You should bring your work here. I miss that.”
“I know. That seems so long ago.”
It
was
long ago, back when Adrienne had been her roommate—until their different lifestyles became too much. Even that had only resulted in Adrienne moving out, not in seeing each other less.
Something stood between them now.
Adrienne looked up, and Miska returned to her plate, filling her fork with asparagus. “What are you thinking?” Adrienne asked.
“I just hate how busy life’s gotten.”
“What’s going on? You’re only seeing Mark right now, unless Kendall’s coming—”
“He’s not,” Miska snapped. There was a name she didn’t want to think about until she had to.
“Fine. Whatever. But Mark’s hardly around. Plus we haven’t gone out much—which reminds me. How was Monday night?”
“Fantastic.”
“Oh. So you found another—”
“That was sarcasm.”
“Then what’s got you all busy?”
“I went to Dillan and Garrett’s church on Sunday.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Have you ever been to church?”
“First time.”
“So you had this thirty-year streak going and you ruined it?”
“Yep.”
“How was it?”
“Awful. I left early.”
“Good for you. Why on earth did you go?”
She wrapped an arm around herself. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Adrienne shrugged and took another bite.
The earthy smell of fish, asparagus, and the olive oil they’d been cooked in wafted around Miska. The pleasure was lost, though. She dropped her fork to her plate and sighed.
“Okay, what’s wrong?”
“I just don’t feel right. Ever get that way? Where everything feels off?”
“Sure.”
“What do you do?”
“Whatever will help. Did something happen?”
“No.” Maybe. “I had this weird conversation with Dillan yesterday.”
Adrienne glanced at her as she picked up her wine goblet. “Oh, yeah?”
“Get this. He says he’s a virgin.”
Adrienne coughed on the sip she’d taken. She set her glass down and wiped her chin. “Man, that burns.”
“Sorry. Can you believe that?”
Adrienne coughed again.
“He tried to convince me to wait for marriage.”
“Like it’s not too late for you.”
She shrugged the words away, even though they rankled. “There’s no way he’s telling the truth, is there?”
“There are groups where it’s common for people to wait until they get married.”
“I can’t even wrap my mind around it.”
“Yeah, it’s weird.” Adrienne pushed her asparagus around. “Garrett and Dillan grew up that way?”
“I guess.”
“Interesting.”
“What do you know about people like that? Should I be worried since they’re next door?”
“They’re harmless.” Her smile grew. “And usually a bit of fun.”
“You’ve got a story. Tell me.”
Adrienne shrugged. “I grew up next to a family like that. They had teenage boys.”
“You corrupted them, didn’t you?”
“No, although I tried. The oldest kept trying to convert me, telling me there were consequences and stuff like that.”
“To some extent, that’s true.”
“Duh, of course. There are consequences to everything we do, some good, some bad. Anyway, those little cultures actually teach their young to wait until they’re married. From what I remember, a lot of them follow that. But not all.”
“So Dillan’s telling the truth?”
“You didn’t believe him?”
“Aid, I’ve never known a man in his twenties who was a virgin. I just—I don’t get it.”
“He’s saving himself.” She rolled her eyes. “Like he’s all that.”
On the edge of the island, Adrienne’s phone chirped. She reached for it and read the text, a smile covering her lips.
“Who is it?”
“No one. Gimme a minute.”
While Adrienne texted, Miska carried plates to the kitchen and rinsed and stacked them in the dishwasher. When the kitchen was clean, she looked up at Adrienne who wore a wide grin while she read her phone’s screen. Miska moved to look over her shoulder. “So who is it?”
Adrienne hid the text. “Gotta run. Got a date all of a sudden.” She tucked the phone into her new lime-green purse and checked her reflection in the mirror above the desk.
“You’re bailing on me, girl. I deserve to know.”
Adrienne shot her a smirk. “Later. Maybe.”
“Well, be careful.” Miska followed her down the hall. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Laughing, Adrienne opened the door. “I’m meeting a guy. Feel better?”
“No. Some men aren’t safe.”
Adrienne flashed her a grin. “True, but I’m not safe either. And I love watching them discover that.”
*****
Early Friday morning, Dillan crossed into Grant Park, searching for Miska. He’d seen her ahead of him yesterday, his first morning running outside after his broken arm, but he’d run another direction before she could see him. He’d do the same today, if necessary.
She was nowhere in sight.
This mid-May morning was warmer than anything yet this spring. It hinted that summer was days away, and he relished the feel of running in shorts and a T-shirt, even if he was a bit cool. His arm seemed okay lately, and other than doing everything with four fingers and one thumb, he felt almost normal.
He jogged past Buckingham Fountain, crossed Lake Shore Drive, and jogged down the stairs to the running path. He paused at the edge to watch waves dance at his feet. The breeze picked up, sending icy cool all down him. He breathed it in. Today would be a scorcher in the suburbs, but not here on the winter-chilled lake.
“Are you following me?”
He flinched at Miska’s voice.
She stood beside him, dressed in black shorts and a soft pink tank top, hands on her hips. The pink drew out matching color in her cheeks and neck. And arms. And legs.
“Of course you’re not following me. You tried to avoid me yesterday. But now you’re stuck.” She tilted up her nose in an exaggerated manner.
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“He lies? Shame, shame, Reverend Dillan.”
Behind his smile, he clenched his teeth. “While I’d love to talk, I have to be ready for work in an hour. Thought I’d run along the lake.” He pointed at Shedd Aquarium where it protruded into the lake. “Looks like you’re done, though, so—”