Calm, Cool, and Adjusted

Author:Kristin Billerbeck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

chapter 12

My favorite skirt disappeared this weekend. Of course, I have more than a subtle idea where it went, but it’s missing just the same. In its place, Lilly left me something she made for me in hopes that my hippy style might disappear. I like what she left me. It’s comfortable and fashionable. Apparently peasant skirts are back, and she made me one in a soft, buttery-cream cotton. Truly, I feel like myself with a touch of princess, and I want to spin like a little girl in her first Easter dress.

As I unlock the office door, I hear giggling and look at Jeff’s office to see the blonde from the convertible exiting. That girl is trouble personified and she’s everywhere. I let myself into the office and slam the door behind me. Men are so clueless. The last time I saw her she was kissing Simon for fifty bucks. In my day we had a name for that. Wrap something up in a beautiful package, and men’s IQs fall to single digits. I’m not jealous, just sort of disappointed Jeff is no better than that. Now, not only is he missing fruit, but he’s a little nutty to boot.

I sit down at my desk and hear a small knock at the door. Moving the curtain aside, I see Jeff standing outside. “Can I come in?” he shouts through the door. I open it, crossing my arms at Mr. Flirtation. And on a Sunday, no less. “I assume that door slam was for me?” he asks.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“So it’s true what they say about the fiery redhead. You’re a jealous one then? How exciting.” He rubs his hands together.

“Jealous of what? I’m just mad you took my parking space. It’s Sunday. Don’t you ever go home? Get yourself a life, and all that?”

“I thought we agreed that it was my parking space. One blonde and the deal’s off, huh? Women. I’ll never understand them. You basically told me I was human vermin the other night. What do you want from me, Poppy?”

“I didn’t know the parking deal extended to weekends,” I say, trying to dig myself out of this hole. What is that little part in women where we take ownership of someone? Even when we don’t really want them and when they’re perfectly free to marry another? In the back of my mind I can’t help but think he’s my date for the wedding, and can he not be flirtation-celibate for a few measly weeks? I hate that I care what he does, but my mouth just betrays me when he’s around. I say things I can’t imagine myself saying and all sense of peace goes out the window.

“Are you going to church tonight?” he asks me. We go to a megachurch that has a huge Sunday night singles group. I go for the worship and sit in the back, sneaking out early before the migration to the hamburger and pizza joints kicks in, while Jeff seems to

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