A Target's Love

20

Elizabeth didn't know why she woke up exactly at six the next morning. All she knew was that she'd jumped up, opened her eyes, and was immediately greeted with the blinding glare of the morning sunlight filtering through the cracks of the curtains fluttering in the early morning breeze. Groaning and squeezing her eyes shut again, she rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. When her efforts proved futile, she sighed and cracked her eyes open again. Once she'd gotten accustomed to the brightness of the morning, she got up and stretched. It was time to start preparing herself for another day of work.

Before she did anything else in the mornings, Elizabeth always prayed. A lot of people didn't believe God existed, but she liked to think that the Big Guy was up there somewhere looking out for her. It wasn't by pure luck that she'd survived a relationship with Jake, a ruthless cage fighter and ex-marine with a temper problem. Who knew what other fun and exciting things fate had planned for her? She needed someone omniscient to watch her back.

When she was done, she checked the time. It wasn't even six-fifteen. That meant she could get ready at a nice leisurely pace and still make it to work with plenty of time to spare. As she headed toward the bathroom, she caught a glance in the mirror of the leather-covered Bible sitting on her night table. She quickly averted her eyes. Every morning she felt like the thing was boring holes into her, following her every move. Calling out to her. She always ignored it. Her mother had buried her head between those black covers every morning, and look at where she'd ended up--six feet under. 

This was Elizabeth's paradox. She prayed but refused to read the Bible because it was full of promises she didn't wholeheartedly believe in. Would the God she was avoiding hear her superficial prayers for protection and still help her despite the fact that she was technically just hoping to use His providence for her own benefit? She didn't have an answer for that. A promise is a comfort to a fool, she thought, as memories of her mom in that ebony casket surfaced, as fresh now as the events were eight years ago. She wasn't prepared to be hurt like that again by a Being who claimed to love humanity yet kept allowing bad things to happen to good people. She believed in God, yes, but His existence was the biggest paradox yet.

She finally tore her gaze away from the Book and shifted it to her own reflection in the shiny glass. She chuckled at her messy afro. After a few seconds, she decided it was time for a shower, and took her time cleaning herself under the pleasant hot stream. Next, she deliberated on what to wear. She didn't feel much like red this morning, so she chose her favorite black work suit. Ironic, for although her mood was pleasant, her clothing choice said otherwise. After pulling on a pair of black-heeled pumps and pulling her damp hair up into a curly puff, she headed downstairs to start breakfast.

Halfway down the stairs, the smell of scrambled eggs and fresh floats drifted up to greet her. Martin Rosheuvel stood at the counter chopping onions to add last minute to the scrambled eggs that were already half-cooked in the frying pan. Elizabeth smiled, amused.

"Morning, Daddy!" She grinned, bouncing into the kitchen. "Aw, did you forget to add the onions first? Again?" She asked although she knew the answer already.

Martin Rosheuvel paused long enough to give his daughter a peck on the cheek. "Morning, darling. Yes, I forgot. I'm getting old, you know."

"You take the eggs off. I'll cook these separately and we'll sprinkle perfectly carmelized onion bits on top of the eggs like they do at those fancy breakfast joints." She shrugged. "They're going to the same place, anyway."

Martin chuckled and shook his head wryly at his daughter's innovative skills, but did as she said.

Breakfast was pleasant, and all too soon it was time for her to leave for work. Her mood suddenly went downhill. As she trudged to her car, she thought about how uncomfortable things would be between her and Javier after last night. How was she supposed to deal with this new turn of events? She sighed and started the car, then glanced at the clock. She still had plenty of time. The first thing on her list of to-dos, when she got to work, was to clean her desk. She'd have close to thirty minutes to kill.