The Children of Wisdom Trilogy Read online

  A smile tugs at the corners of her eyes as she watches me struggle. She’s enjoying this, I realize.

  Clearing my throat, I try to go on. “She and I are not meant to be together. I just want to see her. Maybe get some closure and move on. That’s all.”

  Only then does Aida’s face fall. “What do you mean? You’re not going after her? Then what’s the point?” She set her coffee on the table and slouches over it, as if her disappointment weights too heavily on her for her to lift it to her mouth again. She’s a hopeless romantic, just the way I made her.

  “I’ve been making mistakes. I need to move on from her. Closure will help with that.” I say it firmly, even though a tiny part of me hopes it isn’t closure I’ll find, but love.

  No. I shake my head, not allowing myself to think that way, even for a moment. Her fated mate will have no purpose without her. If I allow myself to act on my selfish thoughts, I will be destroying his life as surely as I destroyed that of my short, brown thread.

  But I can’t help it. Her face flashes in my mind again, and her eyes sear me right down to my being. “I need to see her.” That, I know, is the absolute truth.

  “Where is this diner?”

  “Manhattan.”

  “My brother owns a bridal shop down there. I wanted to take you today anyway. I think you would make a fine tailor, and he always has openings for good workers.” She nods as if it’s settled, but there are some serious problems with this plan.

  “I don’t have any paperwork. No driver’s license, social security card, nothing. I can’t work yet. Not legally.”

  She scoffs. “Well, you’re certainly not going to freeload off us for the rest of your life.” A small smile lets me know she’s needling me. “My brother pays a lot of his staff under the table. He even has a few small apartments above the shop for anyone who needs somewhere to stay. I’m sure you can work something out with him. He’ll be thrilled to have someone so talented on board, and you can get your paperwork sorted when you have time.”

  “I’ve never done bridal work before.” It isn’t an excuse, more like a statement… maybe even a question. Can I do it? I’m going to be on Earth for quite a long time, so I might as well pick up a trade. If I don’t like it, nothing says I have to stay. I can earn some honest money, and besides, it will keep my hands busy.

  The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. “Okay. If your brother likes me and needs the help, I’d love to try it.”

  Aida beams. “Good. We’ve already agreed that Cody will handle the kids today. It’s his last day off, and he wanted to spend it with them anyway. Give me a few minutes to get dressed, and then I’ll drive you to that diner.”

  7.

  My anxiety compounds based on our proximity to the diner. When I created Kismet, it was almost like a miracle. I never dreamed I’d actually get to meet her in real life. My emotions swing wildly from elation to extreme, gut-wrenching fear.

  Aida reaches over and sets her hand on mine. “It’ll be okay. No matter what she says.”

  But what am I hoping she’ll say? ‘Oh Penn, I love you so much, take me away with you?’ No, that’s ridiculous. I might know her, but we’ve never met. Even if she agrees to sit down and take a short break to talk to me, it’s complicated. The more time we spend together, the less time she’ll have to meet her true love.

  “I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” I say as we pull into the parking lot of the diner where Kismet works. “She might not even be working today.”

  “I can feel it. This is fate. She’s working today,” Aida says confidently. “I mean, just look at this parking spot I got. It’s right across from the diner. You can’t get any more serendipitous than that!”

  Her enthusiasm is almost contagious. But I know it’s the exact opposite of fate. Before I can stop her, she’s out of the car and waiting impatiently for me by the door.

  Original counters, booths, and tables adorn the sixties-style restaurant, and the floor is decorated with oversized black and white tiles. A bell rings as we walk through the door.

  “Have a seat anywhere you like, honey,” says a blonde waitress with curly hair.

  “I’m not going to sit with you,” Aida whispers into my ear. “I just wanted to make sure you actually came inside. Get a table, order some pie, and talk to her. You’re not leaving here until you do. I’ll be waiting in the car.” Aida jams a twenty into my hand, turns, and walks out. A heavy sigh escapes me, but I’m here. I’m committed.

  Gulping hard, I take a seat at the nearest booth, close enough to the door that I can make an easy escape if need be. Then she comes in, and it’s as if my world stops turning. Nothing moves but her. Everything else fades away, leaving only her. She has her hair wound into a messy bun on the back of her head, pencils sticking out of it, and loose tendrils tumble around her face. She wears a white, button-up blouse, paired with a black pencil skirt covered in a plain black, utilitarian apron. The only shock of color comes in the form of the bright red pumps she confidently wears as she strides to my table.

  My mouth goes dry as she approaches. “Hi. I’m Kismet, and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you something to wet your whistle? Coffee or maybe some tea?” She clears away a few of the standing menus and puts napkins on the table, all without looking at me. Finally, she meets my eyes.

  She stops for a moment, as if something about me makes her pause, but her warm smile gives me the confidence to speak.

  “Would you like to join me for a piece of pie?” My voice comes out quiet and squeaky, and I clear my throat in an effort to bring it back to full capacity.

  “I would love to, but I have a few hours left on my shift.” It rolls off her tongue smoothly, and I know she’s been propositioned many times by the men in the diner. And even a few women. She has a magnetic attraction about her, and her rather melodic voice only seals the deal.

  Just then, the hostess walks by and nudges Kismet with her hip. She whispers something into her ear, and I think I see the faintest hint of blush flash across her lovely cheeks. She slaps at the hostess as she walks away.

  “Sandi, cover Kismet’s tables for a bit, will you?” the hostess yells.

  I search for Sandi and find her behind the counter with two plates of steaming food in her hands. She glances between Kismet and me and smiles. “Sure thing.” She adds a wink in Kismet’s direction, at which point Kismet waves her tablet of white paper in surrender. “All right, fine.”

  She turns back to me. “Apparently, I’m free for a few minutes.” She calls out to Sandi. “Bring us a piece of chocolate pie, will you?”

  “One piece?” Sandi eyes her mischievously, but Kismet ignores the leading comment and glance as she settles into the booth across from me.

  I have trouble focusing with her so close, and she chuckles at my obvious struggle. “So, why don’t you tell me something about yourself? You know my name. What’s yours?”

  “Penn.” My voice is still aloof, hiding like the coward it is.

  “Penn. That’s an interesting name.” She chuckles, and the sound feeds my soul, lifting my spirits in an instant. “I suppose it’s no more unusual than Kismet. I’ve never seen you in here before, Penn. What’s on your mind?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, not sure I want to cut to the chase this quickly.

  “Seems like you came in here with a purpose.” She hooks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and peers at me from behind long, dark lashes. She isn’t trying to be coy, which makes her even more desirable.

  Feelings I’ve never imagined experiencing firsthand wash over me as I watch her watching me. The blatant desire, which was dulled when I was watching her from on high, is more acute than I can bear. How do humans even function when they’re constantly bombarded by feelings like this? After clearing my throat yet again, I say, “I just wanted to meet you.”

  “Have we met before?” Her instincts are telling her there’s more to this meeting than I’m letting on, but she can
’t put her finger on it. I won’t let her.

  “No. We haven’t.”

  She eyes me, starting to grow suspicious. “Okay, well, you better throw me a bone here real quickly, because you’re turning into a bit of a creeper.”

  I hesitate. Maybe it’s best if it ends this way. She can go her way, and I can live out my banishment in peace, knowing she doesn’t want anything to do with me.

  “Okay, you’re gorgeous, so I’m going to give you one more chance.”

  I cough on the water I’m sipping. She thinks I’m gorgeous.

  “Seriously, what planet are you from with that curly, blond hair and perfect skin? And those eyes? It’s almost not fair. But you need to kick it up a notch,” She wrinkles her nose at me, but her eyes are twinkling a bit.

  Sandi brings us our pie at exactly that moment, and she gives Kismet a stern look. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s being creepy. Tell her, Penn. You know how you’re acting. Even if it’s just because you’re nervous.”

  I look at Sandi helplessly, but she only shrugs and sets two spoons down on either side of the plate. “Good luck,” she says, but I’m not sure if the comment is meant for Kismet or for me.

  “So, what do you do?” Kismet asks as she takes a bite of the pie. She gestures toward the lonely spoon on the other side of the plate. “Come on, help me out here. It’d be rude to watch me pig out on this. Be a gentlemen and eat your share.” She takes another bite of the pie, adding through a mouthful of chocolate, “Oh, and answer my question.”

  “I’m on my way to interview at Feldman’s Bridal downtown,” I say quietly as I take my spoon and toy with the pie. I don’t think I can eat. My heart is pounding, and I fear I’m visibly sweating in front of her. Why did I put myself through this torture? And yet, sitting here with her, I know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  Her eyes take on a starry expression. “Feldman’s. I’d love to shop in there someday. Just haven’t met the right guy yet. And don’t go thinking you fit that bill for a second.”

  My eyes automatically go straight to hers. “I don’t.”

  My answer startles her, and her expression turns serious. “You don’t? Then why ask me to sit down?”

  “Because I wanted to meet you.”

  “But why? Did you see me in a play or something?”

  That’s it, my out. Nodding, I look down at the pie and shovel a bite into my mouth. Despite the fact that the pie is smooth and moist, and chocolate is delicious, my dry mouth makes it difficult to swallow. I grab my glass of water from the table and take a long drink from it, trying to wash the pie down.

  Kismet leans back in the booth, watching me with a smirk on her face. “So, you’re an admirer. Which play did you go see?”

  “Madame Curie: The Musical.” I watched it in the weaving room. Although it wasn’t the most high-budget play, she was brilliant in the role.

  I don’t look back up at her, fearing… well, I don’t know. That I’ll give myself away? That she’ll see me for who I am? That she’ll turn me away, and I’ll never see her again? That she’ll actually fall in love with me, and her life will be worse for it? Maybe all the above.

  “Oh gosh. Not my best work. I’m not sure the sad tale of Marie Curie lends itself easily to a musical. You’ll have to come see me in the one I’m working on now. It’s going to be great.” Then, as if she realizes her blunder, she backpedals. “I mean, I don’t want to be too forward. Wow, that was arrogant. I’m just excited about this new play.” Her green eyes sparkle, lighting up the tiny, golden flecks inside. “The writer is totally brilliant. It’s his first musical that’s actually being performed, and I’m so excited to be a part of it. It’s based on one of my favorite books from when I was a kid, The NeverEnding Story. But it’s told from the Childlike Empress’s perspective, and she’s not helpless like she was in the book. She’s a total badass.” She pauses for a minute. “I think it’s going to be special.”

  I know she’s right. After all, this was planned. The play will be a huge success. People will say that it launched her career. She will go on to do her dream roles in Phantom of the Opera, Les Mis, and Wicked, to name a few. She will be offered roles in huge movies, but her home is on stage, and that’s where she will thrive.

  As I listen to her talk so passionately about her future, I know the time has come for me to leave, to walk away forever. The path I’ve put her on is making her happy, and I’ll only get in the way. But I can’t do it. With her sitting there in front of me, a vision of heaven, I know I will never be able to walk away from her unless she asks me to leave. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  She beams at me, and it’s all the validation I need. In that moment, I don’t care if it’s wrong or right. She’s happy, so how could it be so wrong?

  “So, what do you hope to do for Feldman’s?” she asks as we get down to the last few bites of pie.

  “I’m a fairly good tailor. I think that’s what he has in mind for me.”

  “He?”

  “The owner. My friend is his sister. That’s how I landed the interview.”

  “Well, good luck then. You like to…” She pauses. “Sew?” A smirk plays across her face as she waits to see how I will respond to this challenge to my masculinity.

  “Hey, it’s not such a bad skill to have. And I’ve never cried after pricking my finger. That makes me pretty macho, I think.” I have no idea where that came from, but she laughs out loud at my response.

  As we finish up the pie, we chat more easily. A small voice in my head warns me about what I’m doing. Stop it, it says. You’ll only make it harder to walk away when she meets her true love. But I don’t want to listen. Not now that she’s right in front of me, within my reach. But I don’t touch her. I can’t. I know that once I do, I’ll never be able to let go.

  “Well, Penn, this was a pleasant surprise. I’ll hold you to your promise to see my play. It opens in two weeks.” She relays all the details, and I promise to come on opening night.

  She stands and gathers the plate and spoons. “This one’s on the house, Penn. Thank you for stopping in today.” I nod and she walks away, smiling. I don’t miss the look the hostess and Sandi share as she walks past them, mischievous, self-satisfied smiles on both of their faces.

  I walk back to the car in a bit of a daze. It went well. We like each other. She invited me to a play in a couple of weeks. I will see her again.

  When I slide into the passenger seat of the car, Aida doesn’t press me for details, at least not right away. She steals little glances at me instead, her smile growing ever wider as she watches me gaze dumbfounded out the window. Before I have time to even register everything that’s happened, she’s parked near the bridal shop.

  The shop is small but modern. Aida says hello to the receptionist—who gives me a once-over that makes me more than a little uncomfortable—and keeps walking. I glance once over my shoulder at the receptionist, who’s biting her bottom lip as I walk away. Hastily, I turn back around and follow close behind Aida, taking in the minimalist aesthetic of the shop as she leads the way through it. Only a few dresses hang here and there, with plants, mirrors, pedestals, and cherry wood columns arranged artfully around the space. I want to stop to admire the fabrics, but Aida keeps walking toward the back, so I reluctantly follow.

  “Cedric,” she calls out as she pushes through a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY without hesitation.

  “Back here,” he calls back.

  I’m overwhelmed. All different kinds of white fabric surround me. Whereas there were only a few dresses displayed in the front of the store, the back is packed to the gills with stock. To my horror, Aida disappears into the sea of fabric, leaving me slack-jawed, my back pressed against the EMPLOYEES ONLY door.

  “There you are,” I hear Aida say, and I try desperately to find her voice through the maze of chiffon, lace, and taffeta.

  “Cedric, this is Penn, the one I was telling you about.” She must have turned to look back at me, because s
he clucks her tongue. “Penn, where have you gone to? Come meet Cedric.”

  “I’m afraid I’m a bit lost,” I shout back to her. She laughs and sticks an arm into the air, waving it about for me to see.

  “Over this way.”

  I weave my way through the racks of dresses, trying to take the most direct route to her.

  “Sorry,” I say when I find them at last. “I’m afraid that’s not a very good first impression.” I hold out my hand for Cedric to shake. In that instant, I see his life—growing up with Aida, struggling to get his business up and running, making a close circle of friends here in the city, everything. He doesn’t have a family of his own, though that’s not to say he doesn’t value family. Some people just don’t get a true love. They are stronger on their own. He relishes his role as Uncle Cedric to Aida’s kids, but he values returning to his quiet apartment when the day is done. I smile at the life he’s made for himself. It’s another life I created that hasn’t been wasted.

  “My first impression was already made when Aida told me about your skills,” Cedric says. “My sister isn’t known to exaggerate about things like that. She tells me you need a place to live. What do you think about an apprenticeship here in the shop in exchange for living upstairs? Of course, I will provide you with a small paycheck so you can buy food and stuff, but rent and utilities will be on me, okay? If you want to work here extra hours, your paycheck will increase. If not, that’s fine too. No judgment here. Once you’ve proven yourself, we can discuss a regular salary.”

  “What about an interview?” I say, trying to process his words.

  “Aida’s word is enough for me, for now. I’m sure you’ll prove your worth once you can start working. And if you’re not a good fit, we’ll figure something else out. Don’t worry. We’re not the kind of family that turns our back on someone in need.”

  That, I already understand. I smile, grateful I literally landed in this family’s lap. “I’m not sure what I would have done without you,” I say to Aida. She puts her arm around me and squeezes.