Free Through the Heart by Kate Morgenroth
Authors: Kate Morgenroth
to know how Nora and I met? It was fate, Jeanette. That’s the only way I can explain it. Do you believe in fate?”
Jeanette seemed dazzled by him, standing there staring at him and clutching her pad to her chest. I didn’t blame her. He had turned the full force of his attention and charm on her, and she was like a deer in the headlights.
“Yes, I do,” she said.
“I thought you might,” he said, nodding approvingly.
I wondered what he would say to me if I told him that I thought fate was a bunch of baloney. It’s true, I did. Isn’t that funny? Even with Tammy’s predictions, I believed firmly and completely in the randomness of events. Now that I look back, it doesn’t make any sense at all. But at the time I thought it was just logical and practical—hardheaded of me.
Jeanette hesitated, then said to Timothy, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure thing. Shoot.”
“Do you ever worry that you might miss it? That you have to keep an eye out or fate might just keep right on going by?”
“Miss it? Not possible. If it’s supposed to happen, there’s nothing in the world you can do to stop it. Like what happened with me and Nora,” and he reached over and took my hand from where it had been lying on the table between us.
And then, oh, the look that Jeanette turned on me. As if she were starving and I had a feast in front of me and wouldn’t share. It was a relief when she looked back at Timothy and I was able to quietly pull away my hand. I didn’t like what he was doing; he seemed to be both mocking her and flirting with her at the same time.
“Do you have any friends who believe in fate?” Jeanette asked. “A twin brother maybe?”
“You don’t need to find someone who believes in it; you’re still ruled by it whether you believe in it or not. And you wouldn’t want either of my brothers. Trust me on that one.”
“I’m not so sure,” she said. “I’d like to check that out myself.”
“They don’t live around here. But listen, I have a question for you.”
“Yes?”
The way she said it, she probably would have told him anything. Her darkest secret even. But all he said was, “Do you have any specials that you’d recommend?”
“We have specials,” Jeanette said, “but nothin’ I’d recommend. They’re always some mess Joe puts together with the ingredients that are about to go bad, or what’s worse, something he makes up when he’s feeling artistic. Stick to the menu, and you’ll be just fine.”
“Hamburgers?”
“Delicious,” Jeanette assured him. “Bloody?”
“Perfect.”
Jeanette turned to me. “Nora?”
At this point I was annoyed with both of them.
“Coffee and a piece of apple pie,” I said.
Jeanette didn’t write it down. Instead she said, “You sure about that pie? You know how much Crisco Joe puts in the crust?”
“I’m sure about the pie,” I told her.
I wasn’t so sure about anything else though. I was feeling more and more uncomfortable every moment the little show went on between Timothy and Jeanette. I felt like the intruder, as if I were sitting and watching someone else’s date.
“Okeydoke.” She pivoted, and the way she walked away was just an invitation to watch her backside.
I watched for a second, then turned back to Timothy, sure I would find him still watching her.
But he was watching me. And laughing.
“I didn’t take you for the jealous type,” he said.
“That’s not jealousy,” I told him. “That’s disgust.”
“Oh, bringing out the big guns.”
“Were you trying to prove something?”
“No, of course not.”
There was something in the way he said it. Dismissive. Condescending. Just shy of rude.
I slid out of the booth and stood up.
“I think I’d better go,” I said. “I thought you were . . . I don’t know. Anyway, I should probably get back to work.”
Still, I waited a moment for what he would say.
“You’re going to leave me to eat my hamburger alone?” he said, but he
Jeanette seemed dazzled by him, standing there staring at him and clutching her pad to her chest. I didn’t blame her. He had turned the full force of his attention and charm on her, and she was like a deer in the headlights.
“Yes, I do,” she said.
“I thought you might,” he said, nodding approvingly.
I wondered what he would say to me if I told him that I thought fate was a bunch of baloney. It’s true, I did. Isn’t that funny? Even with Tammy’s predictions, I believed firmly and completely in the randomness of events. Now that I look back, it doesn’t make any sense at all. But at the time I thought it was just logical and practical—hardheaded of me.
Jeanette hesitated, then said to Timothy, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure thing. Shoot.”
“Do you ever worry that you might miss it? That you have to keep an eye out or fate might just keep right on going by?”
“Miss it? Not possible. If it’s supposed to happen, there’s nothing in the world you can do to stop it. Like what happened with me and Nora,” and he reached over and took my hand from where it had been lying on the table between us.
And then, oh, the look that Jeanette turned on me. As if she were starving and I had a feast in front of me and wouldn’t share. It was a relief when she looked back at Timothy and I was able to quietly pull away my hand. I didn’t like what he was doing; he seemed to be both mocking her and flirting with her at the same time.
“Do you have any friends who believe in fate?” Jeanette asked. “A twin brother maybe?”
“You don’t need to find someone who believes in it; you’re still ruled by it whether you believe in it or not. And you wouldn’t want either of my brothers. Trust me on that one.”
“I’m not so sure,” she said. “I’d like to check that out myself.”
“They don’t live around here. But listen, I have a question for you.”
“Yes?”
The way she said it, she probably would have told him anything. Her darkest secret even. But all he said was, “Do you have any specials that you’d recommend?”
“We have specials,” Jeanette said, “but nothin’ I’d recommend. They’re always some mess Joe puts together with the ingredients that are about to go bad, or what’s worse, something he makes up when he’s feeling artistic. Stick to the menu, and you’ll be just fine.”
“Hamburgers?”
“Delicious,” Jeanette assured him. “Bloody?”
“Perfect.”
Jeanette turned to me. “Nora?”
At this point I was annoyed with both of them.
“Coffee and a piece of apple pie,” I said.
Jeanette didn’t write it down. Instead she said, “You sure about that pie? You know how much Crisco Joe puts in the crust?”
“I’m sure about the pie,” I told her.
I wasn’t so sure about anything else though. I was feeling more and more uncomfortable every moment the little show went on between Timothy and Jeanette. I felt like the intruder, as if I were sitting and watching someone else’s date.
“Okeydoke.” She pivoted, and the way she walked away was just an invitation to watch her backside.
I watched for a second, then turned back to Timothy, sure I would find him still watching her.
But he was watching me. And laughing.
“I didn’t take you for the jealous type,” he said.
“That’s not jealousy,” I told him. “That’s disgust.”
“Oh, bringing out the big guns.”
“Were you trying to prove something?”
“No, of course not.”
There was something in the way he said it. Dismissive. Condescending. Just shy of rude.
I slid out of the booth and stood up.
“I think I’d better go,” I said. “I thought you were . . . I don’t know. Anyway, I should probably get back to work.”
Still, I waited a moment for what he would say.
“You’re going to leave me to eat my hamburger alone?” he said, but he