Georgia on Her Mind(65)

“Only God knows, Macy,” Tamara says with authority.

I give them all pleading glances. “I could really use your prayers right now.”

Adriane touches my arm. “We’ll pray. Promise.”

When the clock strikes ten, Lucy gathers her purse. “I hate to do it, but I’ve got to get going.”

“Me, too.” Tamara scoots her seat back.

“Shall we meet again?” Adriane grabs my hand and Tamara’s. “Before Macy moves away?”

“Before you all walk the aisle?” I add.

We agree. “Yes.”

Three years of great conversation and genuine laughter. My heart is sick. Tears burn in my eyes.

“To our time. Who we were, who we are and who we will become.” Adriane raises her cup.

“To the Single Saved Sisters who follow after us,” Tamara toasts.

“Hear, hear,” we say in chorus and down the last of our coffees.

Feeling sentimental and weepy, I can’t resist. “God bless us, every one.”



It’s June in Melbourne, Florida, and it’s hot. But my condo is quiet and cool. I flip on a lamp and collapse onto the couch. I let my flip-flops drop to the floor and wriggle my toes in the fringe of the throw pillows.

In the silence, without the distraction of my friends, the dilemma of my life comes screaming into view.

Do I move to Chicago? Do I compete against Casper? Do I move to Beauty? Do I stay here in Melbourne and keep looking? Is Tidwell Communications a viable possibility?

Will I ever get married? Is there a man out there to love me? The memory of Dylan’s kiss sends a shiver down to my toes. His kisses just might be worth the price of a Chicago job.

I bury my face in one of the throws and pummel the sofa cushion with my fist. Dylan cannot be a factor in my career decision, to which playground I take my marbles. I can’t think of his lips on mine, that he said I’m beautiful or that he’s 100 percent yummy and available.

“Lord,” I say softly, “what do I do? What do I need?”

I think of Drag and his confidence. I get up and pace the length of my living room, praying, mulling it all over until the sun is tucked away beyond the western horizon.

Around eight, Lucy calls. “We’re going to the movies with Tamara and Sam. Wanna go?”

“No, thanks. I’m praying over some stuff.”

“Big decisions ahead, I know.” Her voice is rich with sisterly concern. “Jack and I prayed for you today.”

I tear up. “That means a lot to me.” I can’t imagine moving away from her. She’s been my friend, my family and my confidante the past ten years. I wouldn’t even be in Melbourne with a chance at a major corporate director job if it weren’t for Lucy.

“Can we stop by later with a midnight pizza?”

“Thanks again, but no. I think I’ll skip eating for a few days.” I notice her fast-food ban has lifted since Jack entered her structured, sanitized world.

Lucy gasps. “What?”

“I need to hear from God, Lucy. My soul is making too much noise. I think I’ll starve it into silence.” I sink onto the bottom step of my oak staircase.

She muffles the receiver and says to Jack, “She’s fasting.”

“Lucy.”

“Sorry,” she says. “Call me tomorrow.”

“Have fun. Hi to Jack and Sam. Kiss Tamara for me.” I drop the phone to the floor. Chin in hand, I sit on the steps, pondering. I’ve had a good life in Melbourne, Florida. A great life. While I don’t know if it’s Chicago, Beauty or perhaps a chance at Tidwell’s in New York, the Melbourne chapter of my life is coming to a close.

Tears slip down my cheeks and splatter onto my hand. They are tears of sadness, tears of goodbye, tears of hope.

“Okay, Macy, enough.” I duck into the guest bathroom for a tissue. I blow my nose and wipe the mascara from under my eyes.

I’m relieved to hear the doorbell ring. Good, a distraction.

“Who is it?” I holler, tossing my tissue into the trash and padding across the living room to the front door.

“Adriane.”

I check my appearance one last time in the mirror over the couch. No mascara remains under my bloodshot eyes.

I swing the front door wide and sing in my best opera voice, “What’s up?”

“Oh, Macy, what have I done?” Adriane barges in, wringing her hands.





Chapter Twenty-Eight




Adriane paces around the coffee table, then stops with hands on her hips. “Got anything to eat?”

“What’s gotten into you?” I want to laugh, but I can tell she’s really bugged about something.

“Let’s go out. My treat. Wendy’s is around the corner.”

She starts for the door, but I grab her arm and pull her back. “Sit down.”

She plops onto the ottoman. I sit across from her on the edge of the coffee table. “What is going on?”

“This.” Adrian sticks her hand in my face. I’m practically blinded by her herculean diamond.

I examine the ring. “Did you do something to it?”

“I accepted it. I can’t get married, Macy. What was I thinking? I’ve known him for five months. Five months. I dated Travis for three years before I found out about him.”