What He's Been Missing

“Salsa? Why would anyone be listening to salsa in New Orleans?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s New Orleans!”

This went on f

or another ten minutes before I excused myself to go to the bathroom and walked out the back door.

“So please explain to me how you took my advice to mind your business and strictly be there to support your friend to mean that you should plan the wedding. That’s just not what I had in mind.” Journey was sitting in a chair bottle-feeding Apache. They were both in their nightclothes. It was bedtime for me and the middle of the night where they were in South Africa. I was lying in bed with my laptop and had signed on just to see if Journey might be up. Luckily Apache wasn’t sleeping through the night because of all of the travel, so Journey was up trying to coax her back to sleep.

“She played me, Journey. Played me. I went from being against the wedding, to being in the wedding, to planning the whole thing.”

“She’s good.”

“Really good.” I added another pillow behind my back.

“So how are you feeling?”

“I don’t feel anything. I mean, I’ve been trying to take myself out of the equation and just look at Scarlet and Ian like any other two people who are engaged. They fit the bill . . . I guess. Listening to them argue today, sounding like two people in love . . . I think I might have felt a little—”

“Jealous?” Journey looked at me like she was a detective who’d just cracked a case.

“No, Journey! That’s not it. I’m . . . I do want love. I want to get married and argue about where the wedding is going to be and what kind of music we’re going to play, but I know it’s not my turn. Not my time. It’s Ian’s time. I just don’t want to see him get hurt. He’s such a good guy. So sweet and caring. Always there for me. And he’ll be a great father. Probably will have his son reading before he can sit up,” I said jokingly, but Journey still had her sharp eyes on me. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why do you think?”

“Stop it, Journey!”

“No, you stop it, because you started it.”

“You know what? Fine! I’ll admit it. Ian is the perfect man for me. He’s everything I want. He’s into everything I’m into. He enlightens me. He’s my rock. I’m his rock. It’s all there,” I listed.

“And he’s fine as shit,” Journey whispered, looking over her shoulder for Dame.

“He looks all right.”

“And he ain’t poor!”

“Yes, he makes a decent living,” I said. “But that ship has sailed. It left the dock a long, long time ago and it won’t return.”

“You sure?”

“I’m beyond sure. I’m committed.”

Journey started laughing and the bottle slid from Apache’s little mouth a bit. The baby girl whined at her mother until she got the bottle readjusted correctly.

“Why did you laugh?” I asked.

“Because you just said that you’re committed to not being in love with someone. That’s insane. I think I said the same kind of thing right before I ended up sleeping with my former student. Now I have three children with him and follow him around the world. Did you see my baby on the cover of Rolling Stone last month?”

“Wonderful,” I said. “Good for you. But that has nothing to do with me.”

“Maybe not. Maybe.” Journey pulled the empty bottle from Apache’s mouth and put her over her shoulder for a burp. “Have you ever thought about how committed Ian is to nothing happening between you two?”

“He’s marrying someone else. Obviously, he’s committed to nothing happening between us.”

“Maybe he’s just too afraid to admit it. Maybe he’s thinking there’s no way you two could ever get together, so he’s going with the next best thing.”