Next time has become a long time. Forgive me. If you read my blog Wisdom from a Proverbs 31 Wannabe Woman, you know I’m a terrible procrastinator:). Because this blog reads chronologically and not in order of the story, I want to recap before scribing the next snippet (also, feel free to click on a date under In Case You Missed It to bring yourself up to speed. Better yet, please buy a copy of the book; see links Connecting Flight and Ready to Fly Now).

Tori Weaver, working at a daycare, meets Kent Clarke. There is an instant attraction, but alas Tori “has a man” as we would say back in the day. In spite of this, however, she dreams of him, of something new. As if intuiting this, Kent gives Tori his phone number, undaunted by her current relationship status (by the way, this man of hers is in jail). She waits three weeks to call, but when she does, they end up having a marathon phone conversation and her attraction to him deepens. Could Kent end up being more than a friend?

Opening the classroom door, my eyebrows jumped up. Sitting on my desk in front of the window, in a vase of clear glass, was a bouquet of deep, red roses. In front of the vase lounged a stuffed orange cat with an envelope between its paws. From the doorway to the desk in a blink, I read:

Just a little something to say I enjoyed our talk. Hope I get a chance to talk to you again soon. Kent.

Eyes closed, I pressed the envelope to my chest.

Without a doubt, this was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. With Danielle I could deny it, but alone in the room with the vase full of flowers, I couldn’t. Kent was definitely someone special.

“Wow, somebody must think you’re special.”

I whirled around to see April and Alisha on either side of their father. “Uh, good morning, Mr. McCrae.”

“Good morning. I see it’s definitely a good one for you.”

I smiled. Yes, it was.

At lunch time, instead of going to see Danielle, I pulled out a sheet of paper and a pink marker. And while the children were busy chowing down Spaghetti-Os, my heart bonded with my hand as it flowed over the page, circumventing my mind to swirl smiley faces above “I”s and cross “t”s with flair. The paper alive with words from top to bottom, I called for my messenger.

Alisha came skipping to the desk, her multi-colored beaded braids clinking against each other. “Miss Weaver has an important job for you,” I whispered. Her eyes widened into saucers each with an Oreo cookie in the center. In feigned solemnity, I placed the note in her saucy palm and walked her to the door. “Take that to Mr.Clarke.”

(Secret of a Butterfly, p. 40)

Maybe this is why it’s called “falling in love.” Because just as no one plans to fall, most of us don’t plan to fall in love. It just happens. One day someone who didn’t mean anything means more than everything. Until next time (which won’t be too long, I promise:))…