The Season of Change

An October breeze filled the trees, sending colored leaves sailing through the air. A gust picked up and nipped at Joelle’s rosy cheeks. She welcomed the chill. Her silky chocolate curls flew from her shoulders, sending her ochre scarf fluttering. She pulled her brown leather jacket closed and fumbled with the buttons. Fallen leaves scraped along the sidewalk. The children ahead hopped and crunched each leaf in their path with joyous grins plastered below cold-reddened noses.

Autumn. The season of change. A time when trees release their old leaves and stand bare and idle during a long winter before bringing forth new life in the spring. The season itself was symbolic for Joelle. It teaches the inhabitants of the earth it’s ok to let go and stand tall and vulnerable. Growth can come from the hardest trials. 

A season of change. What changes will come for me before the year ends? She pondered as she strolled through town. 

In just a few short weeks the wedding would be here. Lanterns lining the aisle. Pumpkins everywhere. Candles to light the mood. Flowers with shades of burgundy, oranges, and purples. The elaborate event would be unlike anything this small town had ever seen. Planned to perfection. What could be more wonderful than autumn nuptials?

If the wedding was her own, perhaps. 

Nevertheless, gratitude for the season was in every step she took. Someday it would be her turn. Her destination was only a block away and she refocused on enjoying every moment of the blustery day for the remainder of her journey. The Four Founding Frothers came into view, and with it, the scent of coffee tinted the air. The window display advertised the arrivals of their autumnal beverages. The first taste of harvest flavors was moments away. 

She pushed open the door and the gentle ding of a bell met her ears. She inhaled deeply, flooding her nose and lungs with aromas of cinnamon, nutmeg, and coffee. As tempting as it was to place an order, etiquette dictated that she wait for her clients to arrive. Excitement buzzed through her veins before taking a seat by the window to wait. 

The trifold drink menu glared at her from the center of the table, willing her to look through the temptatious drinks. Unable to avoid the beckoning, she took the menu in her hands and read over the new items. Caramel maple latte. Dark chocolate pumpkin spice. Pumpkin chai. Chocolate hazelnut latte. The list went on. She stopped once she reached the apple flavors. 

How am I ever going to choose? She wondered as she bit her lip.

Ding, rang the little bell above the door, breaking her menu-induced trance. It was Luke. Rising from her seat, she held out her arms. 

“Ah, there’s the groom.” 

As he approached, she couldn't help but picture how his wedding tuxedo would compliment his dark hair and tan skin. He’ll be the most handsome groom I have ever seen. 

His embrace was firmer than usual, though she hardly noticed. The timid smile which replaced his usual jovial grin grabbed her focus entirely.

“Please, have a seat,” she said as she gestured to the empty chair. “How are you? Where’s your bride?”

"Oh, uh, she's going to be late." He changed the subject. "I haven't been to this place in a long time. The name’s funny.”

Joelle smiled. "Four brothers started this coffee shop, so it's a play on that. Super punny, right?"

Luke chuckled. 

“Sorry this was a bit farther for you, but our normal meeting place is being remodeled. But this place has excellent fall drinks though, just released them today. Would you like to try one? I was going to order when I got here but I thought to wait. We should wait for Bridget, too.”

A smile tugged at Luke’s lips. Joelle was chatty. After a year and a half of wedding planning, he knew when she was excited about something. She enjoyed the simple things in life and wasn’t complicated, needy, or high maintenance. He admired her positive view on every aspect of life. 

He said nothing as she jabbered on and handed him the drink menu.

“I think I’m going to get the dark chocolate pumpkin spice. What are you going to try?” She asked.

“Uh, I’m not going to get anything.” He watched her expression turn into something almost painful.

“It’ll be my treat. You won’t regret anything you choose.” Her eyes then glowed with hope.

He couldn’t refuse her excited smile. “Alright,” he chuckled, “what do you recommend?” She was so easy to please.

Her smile returned as she made her suggestions and placed their order.

A waitress placed their drinks in front of them. Whipped cream overflowed from the mugs.

Luke snuck a peek at Joelle as her eyes widened at the sight of her forever love: pumpkin spice. He didn't know anyone who loved this season more than her.

The mug warmed her hands as she lifted the drink for the first taste. 

As Luke watched her, endearment struck him deep in his stomach. His eyes drifted to her lips as they puckered on the rim. She let out a barely audible moan, just loud enough to stir something within him.

“Oh this is outstanding,” she said, eyes glued to the drink in her hands as she took another sip. She lifted her gaze to his and asked, “Aren’t you going to try it?” 

He didn’t break their contact as he lifted his own mug. 

The look in his eyes was unlike Joelle had ever seen from him. Her blood surged with a pang of emotion she couldn’t identify. She leaned back in her seat. 

The rich hazelnut pulled his attention back to the drink in his hands. “Wow.” His eyebrows flew halfway up his forehead. “This really is incredible. I’ve never had anything like it.”

“Aw! I’m happy you like it since I practically forced you to pick a drink.”

He smiled. She was happy that he liked a drink. Were things really that simple for her? Bridget was nowhere near that easy to please. 

"Do you think she'll want one?" she asked, trying to take his focus away from her.

"Who?"

"Bridget. The woman you're about to marry?"

He quirked his brows. "Oh! You remember...she doesn't like fall flavors. Or fall in general."

“I don’t know how I forgot. It escaped me.”

Luke smiled, but held back his laugh. 

“I’m so glad Bridget let you pick the church. I know it was important for you to have a religious ceremony.” 

“Me too. The wedding is the most profound element. I was disappointed when I realized how much that part didn’t matter to her,” he said with a disheartened look.

“I think it speaks to your integrity.”

While they enjoyed their beverages, Joelle chattered about Luke and Bridget’s wedding; the final plans for the caterer, the flowers, and the photographer. 

Luke attempted to listen as his mind wandered down a path he never could’ve predicted. He pulled himself from his thoughts when he heard Joelle’s voice inflect, indicating she asked a question. 

He stared straight ahead at her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

She hesitated. “Are you alright?” she asked.

He didn’t answer.

Joelle picked at the napkin beneath her mug. “I need to go over final details with both of you. Should you call Briget to see if she’s coming?”

“Let’s go for a walk.” 

Luke’s abrupt statement threw her off guard. “A walk?” She asked, to clarify.

“Yes, let’s get some fresh air. Somewhere…” he paused as he looked around the coffee shop, “quieter.”

Joelle didn’t know what to do but follow his lead. He was acting weird. Distracted. Distant. And the way he’d been looking at her with his green eyes confused her. 

Joelle led him down the sidewalk along the storefronts. Fall displays garnished every window. Her love for the harvest decorations made her want to be anything but quiet. They walked side by side to the park to find a spot where they couldn’t be disturbed. But the silence that filled the small gap between them was deafening. 

A couple walking their dog headed in their direction. The black lab wagged his tail and pulled towards Joelle. She veered from Luke’s side and asked the owners if she could pet the excited mass of dark fur at the end of the lead. She knelt down, scratched his head and pet his ears while speaking in a high pitched, loving tone.  The lab reached out a paw in gratitude, leaving a dusty print on Joelle's dark jeans. The owners apologized.

"I don't mind a bit," Joelle said with a grin, ruffling the dog's ears a final time.

As they parted ways, she turned her smiling face to Luke. There was that look again. The look of something Joelle was afraid to name. 

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” She inquired with a curious smile.

“It’s just hard not to notice the difference between you and Bridget.” He turned away, focusing on the path in front of them. 

That couldn’t be all that was going on behind his eyes. They’d get to the bottom of it when he was ready. Fresh air couldn’t have been the only reason for the walk.

She couldn’t take the stillness between them. Something must be said to break the mundane of whatever was happening. 

“Look how beautiful the leaves are. That tree right there,” she pointed, “is the prettiest red I have ever seen.”

Luke huffed out a laugh. “See, that’s exactly it.”

“What is?” Joelle asked.

“The difference between you and Bridget. You see beauty in everything. You’re always happy,” he said as he struggled for a better explanation. 

“Bridget sees beauty too. Look at the wedding she’s been planning.”

Luke stopped and faced her. “That’s not what I mean.” His tone was firm.

This was more than just subtle differences between her and Bridget. He was troubled. 

“What’s really bothering you, Luke?”

He sighed. “Let’s sit.”

Oh this can’t be good, Joelle thought. She’d seen that look on a groom’s face before. It’s just a case of cold feet. All he needs is one of my speeches and he’ll be fine. 

They sat on the nearest park bench. Luke leaned over and placed his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers together between them.

There was another long silence. Joelle could feel stress radiating off of him. He stared down at his feet, then straight ahead as he rubbed his jaw.

“Luke-”

“I can’t go through with this.”

“Can’t go through with what? You don’t want me as your wedding planner?” 

“That’s one way to put it,” he said.

“Have I done something wrong?” 

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” He paused. 

She waited. 

“I don’t want to marry Bridget. I’m not in love with her anymore.”

She knew it. It was classic cold feet syndrome, as she called it. She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve seen this a dozen times. A lot of grooms feel the way you do several weeks before their wedding. You have cold feet. You think you don’t love her but you-"

He cut her off. “I don’t love her. I haven’t for a while, I guess. I was in denial.” He sat up and looked her in the eyes. “It’s you I love.”

The color drained from Joelle’s face. She opened her mouth to say something. Not a sound came out. He must be joking.

Luke rested his arm on the back of the bench. His thumb brushed against the back of her leather jacket. 

“Bridget isn’t like me. I thought we were good together, until you started planning our wedding. You showed me what I was missing with her. Fun and laughter. She’s not easy going or simple and she doesn't see the good in everything. You do. She would’ve been furious if a dog muddied up her designer pants, yet you practically welcomed it. She’s materialistic and prissy. I don't know how I let it get so far.” He raked his other hand through his hair. 

Joelle’s mind was whirling. There’s no possible way he’s in love with me. He’s just not thinking clearly. Memories came flooding in from the last year and half planning their wedding. She remembered the first time she saw him, how handsome he was and the unmistakable first impression of charm, charisma, and pragmatism. Bridget then came to mind, she was fussy and picky. But what bride wasn’t? She recalled how Luke would respond to Bridget’s waves of irrationality. He was always calm and unargumentative. Joelle had blown it off as a stressed bride, not character flaws.

The more the three of them planned together, the more noticeable their differences became. Luke grew more personable toward Joelle. Never flirtatious or out of line, but he interacted with a sort of friendly admiration. She smiled, reminiscing how she and Luke scouted out churches and bonded over their faith. Looking back she could see the digression between himself and his soon-to-be wife, and the progression of playfulness he had with her instead.

This can't be happening! My boss will be furious and I'll be fired for being the reason the biggest wedding of the season is canceled. No one is going to hire me after this. Her thoughts spiraled downward. 

“Luke, you can’t be serious. This can’t happen. You’re my client.”

“As far as I’m concerned I’m not your client anymore.”

She batted her wide eyes at his bluntness. “You don’t understand, it’s against the rules. I can’t fall in love with a client.”

“But didn’t you?” 

She blushed. 

"Can you honestly say you don't have feelings for me? Even if you don't, I'm not marrying Bridget. Not after loving someone like you."

She still said nothing. 

He leaned in closer and took her hand in his. “It took proposing to a bridezilla to realize she’s not the one for me. Her passions are materialistic. All this time I’ve been conforming to her. Well, trying to. But I don’t want to change who I am. Your soul is a lot like mine. You, Joelle, you are exactly what my soul has been drawn to. I’ve been fighting it, questioning it, and doubting my feelings for my fiance. But every time you express love for something so simple and minute, like a...pumpkin drink...you make me fall more in love with you.”

She slid her clammy hand out of his gentle grip, leaned forward and put her face in her hands.

Luke slid his hand behind her hair at the base of her neck. He could feel her pulse racing as his thumb stroked her smooth skin.

“Joelle.”

She turned to him at the sound of his tender voice. There it was. The look she hadn’t been able to describe before was love. He offered her a small, encouraging smile. 

“Luke, this is a lot to take in.” 

With a tilt of his head, he asked, “Do you have feelings for me?”

The answer wasn’t no. But she wasn’t sure what she felt. “I tried not to see you in that way. I always saw you as my client. You two have felt like friends to me these past eighteen months...” Her voice trailed off. 

“Is there a ‘but’ that goes at the end of that statement?” He asked.

She looked away, sorting through her feelings. When she looked back at him, there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “I suppose there is.” 

He smiled back.

“If I set aside the fact that you are my client...and set aside Bridget...and if I look back on the conversations and the fun we’ve had...then yes, I believe there are feelings of love, rooted from friendship in the beginning.”

Luke felt the weight lift from his shoulders. He put his arm around her, pulled her into him, and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

She nestled into his side. For however brief, there was a moment of tranquility. Until panic struck her again.

“Oh my God. We still have to tell Bridget. She’s my client. She’ll be devastated! What are we going to tell her?” She looked up into his eyes. 

“Relax.” He said calmly, twirling a tendril of her hair around his finger. “I already told her.”