Page 58 of Delayed Intention

For Every Action, There Is A Reaction

It’s been nearly a month since I last spoke with Lily.

There have been nights when I can only keep from contacting her by forcing myself to call someone else instead.

Michelle and Jenny have been the people I call the most since both of them are helping me navigate through this.

Hopefully, this will lead me back together with Lily.

They are quick to remind me what’s at stake—the big picture—and that my inclination to ‘fix things now’ is not only selfish but will likely cost me everything I’ve been waiting for.

Meanwhile, Lily and I are still in touch by text and email because of the wedding.

But, at Jenny’s advice, I’ve limited all our interactions to the topic of the wedding and polite small talk.

Trying not to be anxious that Lily is doing the same, I’ve texted wedding details and the occasional friendly ‘hello.’ Now that I’m getting closer to executing my endgame, I’m starting to become nervous.

I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I can’t keep from hoping that she’ll change her mind.

The alternative—being without her—is unthinkable.

Now that the wedding is close, it is time to start phase one of the plan Jenny and Michelle came up with.

Walking over to the Inkwell and Brew shop and cafe, I am on a mission to find the perfect card to mail her.

After looking at every piece of stationery they have, I select one with a mountain scene drawn in pencil by a local artist. It captures the presence of the snowcapped mountains around Estes in a way I haven’t seen in a photo, and I think she’ll appreciate it since she loves this area as much as I do.

I order an espresso as I purchase the card before I sit down to write her a note.

Dear Lily,

I hope this card finds you well.

I am writing you this note to invite you to sit down and discuss something with me before the wedding. Maybe we could have a coffee or go for a hike at some point the week before? I would like to speak with you, and I think it would be best if we did so in person.

Please let me know what day and time works for you and I’ll make myself available at your convenience.

Sincerely,

Josh

After agonizing back and forth on the wording last night, this was something I had already written it out on a scrap paper to avoid buying multiple cards.

I want her to take my invitation seriously without giving too much away while, at the same time, not scaring her off.

The hardest part was to decide whether to go with ‘Sincerely’ or ‘Love.’ I hardly recognize myself.

Now, she’ll know I want to see her in person, and not about the wedding.

I read it over for the third time before walking to the post office and sending it off.

The idea is, with some space, maybe she will be open to giving me another chance.

The first step is asking to meet. If she agrees to a meeting, Michelle and Jenny assure me I should see how she seems before I say anything serious, which makes sense, but I imagine it will be difficult in practice.

Missing her now more than ever, it will be hard to put her feelings ahead of my own and not press her for what I want.

This is part of loving someone, though. It isn’t just about what I want anymore.

I head back to my house and grab the leash, which makes Ginger appear for her walk.

She bounds over to me from who knows where in the house and smacks her tail firmly against the floor while she sits and waits for me to take her out.

I give her a scratch behind her spotty ear after I attach the lead, and she gives me a slow blink of her golden eyes.

Once we are out along the river, I call my sister, who answers after the first ring.

“Did you send it?” Michelle is breathless as if she had run to her phone.

“Yes, I just did.” I grin, trying not to hope but like a fool, unable to help myself.

“Now, you wait. Unless you have legitimate wedding business—do not contact her. Wait for her to get the card and wait for her to decide if and how she will respond.”

“I know, I know.”

“Just call me when you’re tempted. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Have you thought through what you’ll say to her?”

“Depending on how she seems, I was going to just be honest. I love her. I would do anything for another chance.”

“Well, I don’t know how she could turn you down.” Michelle sighs, “but I’m biased.”

Lily, Lincoln, Early June 2025

Arriving home from a busy clinic day—I pull up in front of the house on C Street, completely exhausted.

I plan to head back out to the grocery store after I’ve changed out of my work clothes so I don’t bother with the garage.

I nod a quick hello to our neighbor across the street, who appears to be weeding despite the afternoon heat.

This really is home, down to knowing all the neighbors by name.

Of course, back in Maryland, I didn’t really know any of my neighbors—it’s not as common as here in the Midwest, where people still go to a neighbor for a cup of sugar rather than order a grocery delivery service.

Scooping up the mail as I walk through the front door, I carry it with me to the kitchen and place it on the counter.

I can see Nona sitting with Georgette in the den through the kitchen window.

“Hello there!” I say, smiling at them through the opening that overlooks the den.

“Hi there dear,” Nona smiles up at me. “How was the office today?”

“It was good.” I turned to Georgette to catch her up. “Right now, I’m in a dermatology practice downtown, and it’s a little boring, to be honest. But the providers are all nice. The truth is,” I say as I sort through the mail, “I’m not great with rashes and I could use the practice.”

“I still have a couple of copies of Rook’s Derm Atlases in the home office you know?” Nona calls over to me from behind her cup of tea.

“Well, I’ll keep it in mind, but most of that stuff is on the internet now.”

“Of course. Did you pick up the mail?”

“Yes, I’ll sort out mine and bring yours out to you.”

As I continued looking through the envelopes, I was surprised to find a card in what looked like Josh’s handwriting, confirmed by his return address in the left-hand corner.

It’s been a month of rare texts and messages, and they are only directly related to the upcoming wedding.

Walking around from the kitchen to the den, I bring my grandmother her mail.

“I’ve had a card from Josh apparently.” I looked at both of them to see if they were aware of this development. They both look blankly at me, but then again, I’ve watched them play bridge enough times to know better than to expect them to tell me much with their faces.

“Well, I’m just going to change into lounge wear and read my card then. Oh, I’m headed to the store if you need anything Nona, let me know.”

“Okay.” Rose says, giving nothing away.

“Okay.” I say back.

Once I’m in my room I open the card. The front of the card is a lovely drawing of the Colorado Rockies.

The message inside is short. He wants to meet?

I change clothes and read the card again.

I go out to the kitchen and pour a glass of wine for myself, and take it back to my room.

I’ll go to the store tomorrow. I need wine more than I need whatever it was I thought I was going to shop for.

I can’t even remember. I purposefully raise my eyebrows at both Georgette and my grandmother without saying a word, but they just smile, all innocent.

I sit at my vanity where I’ve left the card and put my hair in a loose braid while I read the card again.

He wants to talk to me. About what? He’s made it clear it’s not about the wedding.

He has been careful not to push me to give him another chance, so that’s unlikely…

unless. Then, with a sinking feeling I recalled my text to Jenny.

I’ve done this to myself, I realize, as my throat burns, followed by my eyes.

I wanted to sever the romance between Josh and me, so I brought them together.

Now, he’s being a gentleman and wants to meet with me in person before the wedding, so I’m prepared to see them together as a couple.

I slump in my chair, thinking of elegant, gorgeous Jenny Park and Josh together. They make perfect sense. And I made it possible. This is what I wanted, right? So why am I crying?

I try convincing myself in the mirror. “I’m happy for him. For them both.” My eyes look sad and the lump in my throat tells a different story.

Now, what do I do, meet with him? I mean, if I say no, I’m the asshole that set them up and then wished I could take it back.

I could just say I’m working right up until the wedding, and there won’t be time.

Except he knows I was planning on coming out a week earlier.

In the meantime, I can stalk them on social media and get used to the idea.

Josh isn’t active on any social media lately, but Jenny sure is.

With a growing sense of dread, I scroll through Jenny’s latest posts. No Josh. They are probably waiting to speak with me first. I drink more wine, hating my choices.

Fine. I’ll have two whole weeks to get used to the idea of Josh and Jenny together, and then I can face them like a grown-up, or at least the approximation of one, and pretend I’m thrilled for them.

No problem.

I’ve survived an entire childhood with Ellen Mendes. I can fake my way through a week of my tortured, broken heart.

I finish my glass of wine, wishing desperately that it would magically refill without having to walk by Nona to get another. I don’t want to talk about the card or why I need a second glass of wine.