Waiting for the Moon

Maeve nodded. "Yes."

"I was . .. bad. Stupid. I wanted ..." She couldn't find the word she wanted and she was too tired to try.

"Of course you wanted to impress him. It's only natural."

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Selena looked at her friend in wonder. "Maeve, how is it you always understand me?"

Maeve gave her a small smile. "You're easy, child. It's the rest of the world that confuses me."

Selena was silent for a long time, then finally she turned to Maeve. "How do I make Ian love me?"

Maeve squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment. When she reopened them, her hazel eyes glittered with tears. "I don't know." Her voice cracked, thickened. "But I know how much it hurts to try."

Selena sagged forward. "I am doing much wrong with him."

"He will keep you at arm's length now," Maeve said quietly.

"Why?"

It was a long moment before Maeve answered. "Because you are broken."

Selena didn't need the words; it was what she'd already felt in her heart, and yet still they hurt. "Then there is no hope. I shall always be broken."

"I have never found hope with Ian. He despises me because I am crazy."

Selena heard the pain in her friend's voice and understood it, felt it. She slipped her arm around Maeve's slim shoulders and drew her close. "I feel love for you."

Maeve released a shaky breath. "I love you, too, Selena."

They sat that way a long time, silently, taking comfort in each other's presence. "He will see me someday," Selena said at last.

"Maybe," Maeve whispered. "Maybe."

The next morning, Selena dressed quickly in her oversized blue gingham gown and tied her hair back with a strip of pink satin, then grabbed the book Ian had left on her bed last night and headed outside.

She had lain awake last night for hours, huddled next to the meager light of a candle, trying to read the small,

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leather-bound book entitled Either/Or: A Fragment of Life. If she read slowly enough, she could comprehend the words, but making sense of them was another thing entirely. The story seemed pointless and silly.

Obviously she was not smart enough to understand the text. The realization saddened her, for she knew what it meant. Ian would listen to her feeble attempt at what he called retention and look disappointed by her failure. Then he'd write something in that book of his. Something that captured and memorized her imperfection.

She forced a smile. She would not think of that now. Today would be different from yesterday. She would make Ian see her, make him take her seriously. She didn't know how she would do that, but she believed in herself, in the possibility, and she would make it work.

She raced to the edge of the lawn, her skirts held high. She meant to keep running, through the forest to the shoreline beyond. Meant to.

But the towering old trees enthralled her, captivated her senses. She stopped and looked up. Green leaves and needles splayed out above her in a lacelike pattern that filtered the sunlight. A gentle breeze danced through, sent leaves spiraling to the lichen-covered floor.

She dropped to her knees and crawled over the damp earth to a singular white blossom that huddled amidst the ferns. She gently took hold of it, studying the satiny green leaves and milky white petals. It smelled so nice....

"Selena?" Ian's voice, slightly impatient, boomed into the clearing.

She snapped back, breaking the flower in her surprise. "Oh, no ... I am so sorry...."

"Selena!"