Never the Bride by Rene Gutteridge

said twenty-four hours!” I whisper, foolishly thinking that somehow a whisper would go unnoticed. I try a smile. “In twenty-four hours. They’ll be ready. Just finishing up some minor touch-ups. You know how that goes. We want everything to be perfect. Mr. Costonexpects no less.” I glance at Mr. Coston, who looks ready to intervene for me at any second.
    He seems to relax a little as I sit down. I keep my focus on Mr. Coston, staring so hard at him that Nicole keeps glancing at me.
    “Send a photographer today” Mr. Coston says. “Let’s get these on the premier listings.”
    “You have to find a way” says God from across the room, “to share your proposal ideas with other people.”
    “What?” I whisper, turning my head to look at the man no one else can see.
    “A photographer,” Mr. Coston says loudly, looking where I am looking and obviously seeing nothing. He looks back at me, and I force myself to look at him, smiling. “The one who takes pictures? Pictures that you can upload to our Web site?”
    “Yes, of course.” My hands are shaking, and it’s not from the espresso, I can tell you that. I ignore God for the few more minutes we are in the meeting—even though I am all too aware that he is pacing on the other side of the room. Mr. Coston finally finishes up, and I bolt out the door and straight to the ladies room. I check under the stalls. I’m all alone.
    Except.
Poof!
There he is, sitting on the sink counter.
    “Is this funny to you?” I ask.
    “Is what funny?”
    “Making me look like an idiot. Why didn’t you show up at Starbucks? We could’ve talked there. You have to come into a meeting?”
    He turns on the faucet for no particular reason, it seems, except to let his hand play under the water. “I’m kind of on my own schedule. I’m not in the habit of checking if it’s convenient.”
    I put my hands on my hips but I don’t say anything. That does sound very God of the universe. And it feels foolish arguing that he’s not working with my schedule.
    “So,” he says, “to recount what we’re doing here. You are going to be participating in, well, let’s just call it show and tell. You’re going to help others, Jessie. I’m really into that, you know”
    I take two paper towels, move to the sink, and start wiping off the water droplets he’s making. “You’re trying to tell me that while waiting for my own proposal, you want me to help other women get the ones I have been dreaming about my whole life.”
    “That about sums it up.” He smiles and holds his hands up to dry in the air.
    I snatch two more paper towels and dry up water droplets from the other sink. “And how do you, oh wise one, propose I do this?”
    “That’s up to you. You know how you’re always bemoaning that all these people around you are getting engaged?”
    “I do not moan. I merely point out.”
    He looks down at me, and for a moment I catch a glimpse of who he really is inside that young man’s body. I squirm. The moment passes, and he says, “Share those creative serenade ideas from your journals with the guys who need your brilliance. I particularly like the one that involves the daisies—oh, and the ball of fire.”
    I grab another towel. Water spots seem to be appearing out of nowhere. God hops off the counter. I start wiping. “How many proposals do I have to share? Three? Four? Nine hundred?” I need a number. Numbers comfort me.
    But he is gone. Naturally. And right on cue, Nicole comes barging in. “There you are!”
    I toss the paper towel in the trash. “You know when I get nervous I need to wipe things.”
    Nicole stands there with her hands on her hips, not smiling. “Okay, first of all, no more coffee for you.”
    “It wasn’t the coffee.”
    “Secondly, what just happened? I’ve always known you to be quite confident in front of people, Jessie.”
    “It was nothing. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”
    Nicole took her hands off her hips and took a few steps toward