“Yes, it’s perfect.”
Andrew’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. We ordered our food and, while waiting, slipped into a conversation that flowed as easily as the wine. He spoke of his childhood in a small town in Georgia, his journey to law school, and the cases that had shaped his career. In between, he asked me about my life. I opened up to him in ways I hadn't anticipated, sharing bits and pieces of my past that I’d kept tucked away, even from my closest friends. Like the time I snuck into the mathematics department at midnight during my college years to solve an equation that had been left unfinished on the chalkboard, or the summer I spent learning to speak French, hoping that one day, I’d visit Paris and converse with the locals without stumbling over words. Andrew listened intently, his eyes never leaving mine, making me feel heard in a way I had rarely experienced.
Our meal arrived but was almost forgotten as we delved deeper into each other's lives. As the evening wore on, we found ourselves sharing laughter and stories, our lives intertwining with each anecdote. The noise around us faded to a mere whisper as our own dialogue took center stage. He had a way of making me feel like the only person in the room, his full attention completely focused on each word I uttered.
“Now that we’re properly acquainted,” he said, leaning back in his chair and regarding me with a thoughtful expression, “what’s the real reason you left Tennessee?”
I thought about lying, about creating some bland excuse about needing a change of scenery or seeing a new opportunity, but if my past had taught me anything it was that honesty was essential.”I left because someone broke my heart,” I said, looking down at the remnants of food on my plate. “Someone I cared for deeply, and I couldn’t stand the thought of being there anymore.”
Andrew nodded, understanding etched in his eyes. “I'm sorry you had to go through that.”
“Not as sorry as I am.” I spent the next few minutes explaining to Andrew my role in the demise of that relationship. How my jealousy and lies had driven away the one person I cared about. As the words poured out of me, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders, a sense of liberation that came from acknowledging my past mistakes. “And that’s why I moved here,” I concluded. “Hoping for a fresh start.”
“You know, sometimes it's the broken pieces that make us who we are,” said Andrew. “Take me, for example. I’ve had my heart broken more times than I care to admit, but I keep putting myself out there, hoping that the next one is the one I’ve been waiting for.”
His eyes bore into mine, their intensity reflecting the sincerity of his words. Despite myself, I felt a spark of hope ignite within me. Was it possible that I could find love again after all the mistakes I had made?
“So, the legal assistant job,” I said, changing the subject. “I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and I have decided to accept your offer, under one condition.”
“And what might that be?”
“That you’re patient with me. When it comes to this world, I’m a fish out of water, and I’m going to need time to adjust. I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect or that I won’t make mistakes, but I can assure you that I will try my best every single day.”
“Patience is something I can certainly afford,” he said as he reached across the table, extending a hand to me. “And I think you’re selling yourself short. Something tells me you’re far more capable than you give yourself credit for.”
“In that case,” I said, giving his hand a firm shake, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
25
Present
“Isthat when you knew you wanted to be a lawyer?” Diane asked as she looked up from her notepad.
I shook my head. “No, that came later. When I first agreed to take the job as Andrew’s assistant, I was terrified. I had no experience dealing with the police, courts, or anything of the sort. Part of me thought that Andrew was crazy for soliciting my help. But all I kept thinking about was poor Rosie. I thought if I could make a difference, even a small one, it would be worth it.”
“And did you?” Diane asked. “Make a difference?”
I tipped my head in a nod. “Not at first. It took me a little while to get my feet wet.”
At noon, we broke for lunch, enjoying Cobb salads and sweet tea on the veranda. We talked about the case and my first stumbling steps into the world of law. When we’d finished eating, Diane told me more about her life as a journalist and how she’d gotten into the profession.
“I’ve always wanted to be a writer,” she said as she cleaned her glasses on the hem of her blouse. “Even as a little girl,I’d scribble stories in my notebooks. Later, I realized I had a knack for asking questions—the right questions—and that’s when journalism became a possibility.”
“How long have you been an investigative journalist?”
“Five years next month.”
“And do you enjoy it?”
“I do, but I still dream of becoming a novelist. This story of yours will certainly help me on my journey, but I want to write my own stories, you know? The kind that touches people’s hearts and stays with them long after they’ve put the book down.”
“Does that mean you want to try your hand at fiction?”
She nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. “Yes, but not just any fiction. I want to write stories that inspire people, give them hope, make them see the world a little differently. Actually, if I’m being totally honest, I want to write the next great American novel. I hope you don’t take offense to that.”
I laughed under my breath. “Not at all, dear. I love fiction as much as anyone. And your desire to write the next great American novel reminds me of someone I used to know,” I said, thinking of Jack. “But I will say this—the old adage that truth can be stranger than fiction—it’s very true, so don’t write off nonfiction just yet.”
We both chuckled at the irony and the conversation took a lighter turn. Over cups of coffee, Diane and I continued building a friendship. Through the afternoon, our discussions meandered through politics, literature, and our shared love for nature and more specifically, the ocean. Diane also told me more about Cassie and how she had recently gotten a puppy, a chocolate Maltipoo she had affectionately named Rolo, after her favorite candy.