The Difference Between Getting and Needing

f o r t y - t h r e e

if you try sometimes,
you just might find
you get what you n e e d . . .

〰️〰️〰️

For the short amount of time that I had known Dr. Wayne Holtz, I learned a lot about him. If he wasn't in the office or at home in his beautiful brownstone, you could find him at the city's most popular dog park with his husband and Gouda, their Teacup Yorkie. He considered arranging cheese boards a hobby, which was where most of his money went and also served as the inspiration behind his puppy's name. He was a huge fan of honesty and confrontation.

Two weeks after my dad's catastrophic ceremony when I found myself on Sutton's doorstep, I knew Wayne would be proud of me.

It wasn't exactly how I wanted to spend my Saturday. The weather was some of the nicest I'd seen since Hawaii, making me itch to go back to my grimy city and soak in the sunshine. Preferably at a restaurant with outdoor seating, a broad cocktail list, my man, and my dog.

But no, I had to be a good person who understood how important communication was and could no longer hold grudges. Therefore, I took Gus' car for the day and made the trip to Sutton's alone for some much needed confrontation.

She lived in a housing development worthy of being on a postcard. The trees that lined her cul-de-sac were in full bloom, the sun shining down on every green grass-covered lawn. Kids were playing outside everywhere you looked, the only things that mattered to them were sidewalk chalk and baseball catches. Neighbors chatted from one yard to the other over their white picket fences. It practically screamed Life is Perfect!

Maybe for my sister, it was, but Kingsbridge Commons was not my cup of tea. Even the name made me feel unwelcomed. As much as I picked on my hometown for being painfully suburban, Sutton's place put Clearloft to shame.

I hadn't been to her house in months, maybe even a year. Probably for some pre-wedding function, if I had to guess. It was still as I remembered – like it belonged on the cover of Good Housekeeping. Spotless gray siding, a roomy porch with just the right amount of furniture, and a front door the same shade of yellow as the dandelions in the garden.

Whoever took care of the garden stumped me. It had to have been Koa because the closest my sister got to having a "green thumb" was spending money.

I thought I would be a lot more stressed to confront Sutton. The kind of stress that would have me hiding in the car until I second-guessed the whole idea and just drove back home. I guess I really had changed more than I thought because I didn't waste any time parking at the curb, marching up the walkway, and jabbing the doorbell with my index finger.

It didn't take ten seconds for someone to answer. I came face-to-face with Koa, whose grin radiated more light than the color of the sunny front door he just swung open. He was clad in board shorts and a tie-dye t-shirt which I swore were the only two kinds of clothing he owned. Sutton never even dared to wear tie-dye before she met him; now it occupied a third of her wardrobe.

"Bayla, hey!" He cheered. "Howzit?"

I couldn't understand how someone's energy could be so contagious, but his greeting had a smile on my face before I knew it. Still, I found myself shrugging a shoulder. "Okay, I guess."

He wasn't pleased with that response. His lips pursed and he silently beckoned me towards him, circling his arms around me until my face was smashed up against his chest.

"It's all love," he mumbled. It was something he often said in place of "it's okay", and it was the sweetest damn thing.

Once we pulled out of our embrace, he led me inside the foyer and shut the door. On the wall behind him, I spotted a few framed photos from their wedding, tastefully arranged and honestly breathtaking to look at. The two of them walking hand-in-hand on the beach during the sunset, gazing into each other's eyes at the altar, and a candid shot of our entire family caught laughing when we should have been posing for the photographer.