A Gift of Joy

Holly Brianne Hamilton sat on a rocky beach in southern California. Sand covered her wet suit. In fact, her face, hands, and feet felt gritty to the touch. She watched the beachcombers up and down the coast on a Thursday afternoon. “How do these people stand the blowing wind?” she asked to no one in particular.
Billowy clouds separated the ocean from the December sky. In the distance, she picked out Blake’s surfboard riding a high wave toward shore. She tried to untangle her long dark hair as he carried his board up the hillside toward her. His patterned wet suit matched his surfboard. She supposed the combo was meant to impress her. She had to admit the picture-perfect effect.
That’s the problem, Lord. Holly easily lapsed into conversations with Jesus, and this one had her nose wrinkled and her lips in a downward spiral. Is this relationship mostly about external stuff? Is it ever going to be about You, Blake, and me in the same sentence?
In her heart of hearts, Holly knew Blake probably wasn’t her forever partner. Yet, he was so convinced he was. Sometimes she felt overpowered by his confidence, as though he spoke for both of them. Did she really have a mind of her own? Was it too easy to go along with him when he dreamed aloud about their life together?
She reflected on how Blake had been pursuing her since her freshman year at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C., where they were students. She’d tried many times to pull away, to date others, to have her independence. Blake would wait her out, appearing just often enough to keep him at the top of her mind, doing endearing things and offering a listening ear. She simply didn’t know how to say no to Blake Chandler’s charm.
When she began having doubts about dating Blake, Holly had confided in her best friend from high school. “What’s not to like?” Hannah Harper had asked. “Sandy hair and green eyes? Muscular California beach boy physique? Political science major? He interns at your Uncle Parker’s Sloan Foundation lobbying firm in D.C. Must be a good guy.”
Hannah had been right, of course. Nothing about Blake was hard to like. Except that one thing.
She recalled their first meeting at the lobbying firm, where they had both worked. The Sloan Foundation supported numerous halfway houses, drug rehabilitation centers, and a lobbying firm on behalf of prison reform. Blake worked as a staff intern to earn credit for his political science major. He had quickly noticed Holly. Was it because she was the niece of the founder? He claimed it was her outgoing personality—and maybe a little about her very attractive appearance.
Now a graduate of Georgetown University and Columbia Law School, Blake had taken an entry-level job at a prestigious law firm in New York. He’d recently passed the bar exam and hoped to join a practice in Washington, D.C. Holly knew her graduation from Georgetown next May —conveniently in the same city—would present new challenges for their relationship. What then?
Blake seemed to know the answer to the question of her future, but Holly didn’t have the same assurance. That’s why she came here. To Blake’s home in Long Beach for the beginning of Christmas break. To have the talk.
***
Thursday evening Holly and Blake sat outside on his parents’ porch bench sipping from mugs of hot tea.
“You’re quiet this evening,” Blake observed. “Care to share what you’re thinking?”
Not really, she mused. Tonight’s the night. If she could just get her heart and her head in the same place, she felt reasonably sure this feeling of dread would go away. But the two weren’t even close.
Blake tried again. “Do I have to order a cat scan to see if there’s brain activity in that gorgeous head of yours?” He ran his fingers through her dark curls.
“You can’t. You’re a lawyer, not a doctor. But thanks for the compliment.”
“Now that we’ve established contact between us, what’s going on? The last time you were this quiet, you were sick with the flu.”
Holly guessed he was right. She had a bit of a reputation as one who over-talked any issue. She could usually talk her way out of troublesome conversations. She glanced his way, smitten as usual by his handsome face, memories of him in his wet suit filling her mind with all the wrong images. Why couldn’t she just break Blake’s heart and be done with it? Tomorrow she would fly to Nashville to be with her family for the rest of her Christmas holiday.
She took a deep breath. “Blake, we’ve been together, on and off, for almost four years. I know you want to plan the next steps in our relationship, and you’ve been pretty clear as to what they should be.”
“Hold on.” He sat up straighter. “Until I get a job in D.C., I don’t have much to offer you. We can postpone this conversation for a few more months.”
“No, we can’t.” Holly swallowed. “I need to be as clear with you as you have been with me. Honestly, I’m at a loss for words.”
Blake grabbed an imaginary microphone. “Hear that, ladies and gentlemen. A first in the life of Holly Hamilton—”
She batted his hand away. “Seriously, I’ve got to explain my feelings. I’ve tried before—many times, in fact. So let me try again.”
For the next half hour Holly talked and Blake listened. She struggled to resist leaning on his shoulder for comfort. But from what she’d said tonight, that wouldn’t be an appropriate response.