Beyond Believing Read online

  Dan told me he had lost touch with Frank when she moved to Europe after studying abroad. She spent a semester in France. She stayed to travel after graduation; from there, he lost touch with her. I know she isn’t on social media and since she’s living outside the country, I have no way to find her to tell her about Dan’s death. She’ll be just as devastated. Then it suddenly hits me. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t want to know. I would rather live out the rest of my days thinking we just lost touch, and we went on to live the lives that God had carved out for us. At that moment, I became jealous again, jealous that Frank might forever live in a world where Dan is still very much alive and well. What I won’t give to go back to that place. I decide against searching for her, leaving it alone for the universe to handle.

  Chapter Two

  (Finn)

  I’m in the back, breaking down the kitchen from the lunch rush at the restaurant when the hostess lets me know I have a visitor up front. As I make my way, I can see it’s Mac. He’s pacing back and forth, ready to jump out of his skin. He can barely contain himself.

  “Finn, you are never going to believe it, I can hardly believe it myself.”

  “What is it? Everything okay?”

  “It’s smashing! Better than smashing; it’s bloody fantastic. You know how I’ve been sending out my links to my comedy compilation mix?”

  “Aye.”

  “I just got a call from the Second City in New York. They want me to join their current comedy review. I leave in two days.”

  “Aye, man that is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.” I grab him and pull him in for a hug. “Wow, it’s finally happening. I always knew this day would come. I can’t believe you’re leaving so soon. We need to have a bevy to send you off properly.”

  “Let’s meet at The Central tonight at seven.”

  “Fantastic. See you then.”

  We live in St. Andrews, Scotland. No one ever leaves St. Andrews. It’s a beautiful coastal town with picturesque views, the home of a first-class university, a world-renowned golf community and is a charming, historical tourist trap. So, who would ever want to leave such a place? I know two people—Mac and me. Mac, short for Malcolm Hill, is my best friend. We are only three months apart in age and have been friends since the womb. He’s the brother I never had and the funniest person I know. His dream is to become a comedy writer. Right now, he works at the Byre Theatre in town. He started selling tickets in the box office then moved his way up to manager. He took a chance at an Open Mic night a few years back and is now part of their weekly improv show. He’s been waiting almost a year to hear from the Second City Improv Group. Now his big chance is here. We’ve always been small town blokes with big city dreams.

  My dream is to become a Michelin-starred chef and open my own restaurant. I work at Forgan, a local favorite restaurant. Like Mac, I’ve worked my way up. I started as a busboy graduating my way up to cook. Now I’m in charge of some of their smaller catering gigs and private parties. I’ve been working to save money to go to culinary school in Paris and I leave in two weeks. Now that Mac is leaving, there isn’t anything keeping me here. The timing is uncanny. Even with all the forced planning in the world, we couldn’t have aligned it better. We left it up to the universe and now we’re both off to begin our new adventures.

  We never discussed our grand plans or how or when we would make our move but leaving was always part of the master plan. St. Andrew’s can’t contain our souls. It started when we begged our parents to send us away for several weeks for summer rugby camp. We are both fearless and adventurous, almost to a fault, and it got us in trouble.

  #

  Mac and I haven’t had a proper night out in a long time. We’ve both been so focused on running down our dreams that carousing and chasing lassies was put on a shelf. As I approach, I make a mental note to consciously enjoy tonight, be in the moment, and soak it all in because whether we like it or not, this is the final hurrah of our childhood. Now we will turn into men.

  The bar stools are lined with locals. This bar is one of the many small-town gems perpetually stopped in time. I spot Mac creating a ruckus at the back of the bar. There are about fifteen guys here. Most of them are from our rugby team. None of them could ever replace the bond between me and Mac. As I’m heading toward him, I hear the bartender yell.

  “Laddie, save me the walk and deliver these to your blokes.” I grab the tray and prepare to get blottered.

  “Fiiiiinnnnnnnnn, lad, you made it,” Mac slurs.

  “Aye, I see you’ve started without me.”

  “Yer always late and I have a lot of celebratin to do.”

  “I’m here now so let’s get this party started,” I say as the shots flow.

  “I couldn’t be happier for ye, man. You were born to do this. Couldn’t happen to anyone better or more deserving. You’re the funniest person I know.”

  “Aye, stop. If you keep this up, I might have to kiss you. When are you off?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Brilliant. Do you have a place to live?”

  “My mum and da just purchased a studio apartment, as an investment property, in the Marais district of Paris. I can live there, rent free, while I attend my courses.”

  “I’m not familiar with the area. What’s it like?”

  “It’s an up and coming area with easy access to the tube.. It has a younger, more eclectic feel, highlighting the arts, perfect for me. All the furniture was included, so I just need to show up. They originally considered renting a place or having me live with a family, but Mum and Da wanted to make an investment for their retirement. They have always loved Paris.”

  “Enough shop talk, let’s drink.”

  Mac can hold his liquor. I’m no light weight but I’ve accused him of having a hollow leg. We’re about the same height and weight so I don’t know where he puts it. I make sure to pace myself when we’re out but this is a special occasion so I’m going toe to toe with him tonight. He did get a bit of a head start on me, though. I know when he has crossed the line from buzzed to drunk because it’s the only time he ever gets sentimental.

  “We’ve never talked about it,” Mac says wearily.

  “Talked about what?” I inquire.

  “You know what. The accident.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, we haven’t. I’ve buried it deep. I could never bear to think that I almost lost you that day.”

  “I know, bloke. I had no idea what happened. I only remember waking up and staring at the ceiling of the hospital’s ICU unit, ICU at the hospital and hearing me mum bawling.”

  “It was the scariest moment of my life.”

  “We knew that golf course like the back of our hand; how could I have let that happen?”

  “I don’t know. One minute we were out at dusk hawking golf balls when the sprinkler went off, triggering the floodlights, and the golf pro caught us and started chasing us. We were so worried about keeping our locker room jobs, we were determined not to get caught. We both took off into different directions but I assumed you’d come by later and we’d compare notes on how we got away. When I got home, my mum was hysterical, telling me you slipped and fell off the cliffside and they weren’t sure ye were going to make it through the night. My heart stopped. I couldn’t imagine losing you.”

  “Aye, lad. I had no idea what I put you through. I’m so sorry. Everything was so fuzzy for me. I must’ve slipped or something. It’s the only way I can explain it. We were there daily and knew every inch of that landscape.”

  “I know.”

  “I felt terrible about what I put ye and my mum and da through.”

  “I just remember getting home and me mum grabbing and hugging me. She prayed around the clock. Thank God that none of yer injuries were life-altering. I mean, I really don’t know what I would’ve done.” I hesitated, as I started to well up, ye are the only brother I’ve ever known. I’ll miss ye, lad. More than anyone.”

 
“Me, too. I have no doubt yer going to kill it. I will definitely come visit.”

  “Promise?”

  “No question. I can’t wait to see ye in action. It’s no surprise to me that it’s all coming together.”

  “Yer one to talk. Yer food is the best I’ve ever tasted. Just do not tell my mum. She’ll be heartbroken.”

  “Enough of the sappy talk. Cheers!”

  “Okay, let’s end with a celebratory toast. We’ve made it over twenty years and have never shared the same lass in this small town. That is the biggest miracle of all.”

  “Cheers to that. Now that’s the last shot or you’ll never make yer flight tomorrow.”

  #

  When I arrive in Paris, I spend the next few days learning the public transportation system, getting acquainted with my new surroundings and filling out application after application at many of the prestigious restaurants in the area. Many of those restaurants would make a great apprenticeship. My goal is to land a sous-chef position but I will settle for wait staff and work my way up. Fortunately, I speak fluent French, part of the deal growing up as the son of a professor, learning multiple languages and being multicultural. Ironically, my folks raised me to be worldly but never expected me to leave St. Andrews, hypocritical, really, but I’m ready for whatever is in store.

  When I walk in to the restaurant Benoit, I’m immediately overwhelmed. The place is a zoo; I can’t believe the crowd. The hostess is a young American girl, about my age and completely frantic. I could tell she was struggling with the language barrier. I jumped in to help her translate with a few groups of patrons. She is so grateful, she’s almost in tears. It’s her first day. After things settle down a bit, I ask her for an application but before I could finish my sentence, the manager of the restaurant overheard and asked me what position then said, “Forget it, can you wait tables?” Without hesitation, I said yes. He escorts me to the kitchen, hands me a tray, an apron, and a tablet; I am officially on the clock. I work the entire lunch shift and before I had a chance to ask her name, the manager told me he just fired the hostess. I feel awful. He’s acting as if firing is a daily ritual so now I’m sure I must be on my A-game. He begins to outline my employment duties as I shared my aspirations of becoming a chef. He started me out as a waiter Thursdays through Sunday evenings but offered to have me shadow the master chef, Andre, during any slow shifts and on my own time. I am so incredibly grateful. I really need to focus on bettering my pastry skills if I have any chance of making it in this business.

  #

  Classes have been in session for several weeks and I’m finally starting to get into a routine where I can balance work, school, and a social life. Every Friday I’d debate hopping on the train for a weekend trip to explore Spain or Germany but quickly remember how lucky I am to have such an amazing opportunity that I cannot squander, so I pack up for the day and head over to Café Cartouche to study and relax. I am only there a few minutes when I look up and see her walk in; it is the hostess from Benoit. I immediately walk up to her and she instantly recognizes me.

  “Hi, I’m Finn.”

  “Hi Finn, I’m Christine. Wow, what a disaster that was, huh? Thank you so much for coming to my rescue.”

  “Of course, I went to come find ye and ye were already gone. Would ye please join me? I’d love to buy ye a cup of coffee.”

  “Sure, that would be nice.”

  We became fast friends as we sat and talked for what felt like days. She’s from Indiana and is in Paris attending a study abroad program through Purdue University. We made a pact that I would help her work on her French if she would be a guinea pig for my experimental pastries. I don’t really have many girl “friends” so this is new territory for me. Sure, she is cute and intelligent, but I’m here for school. I don’t need to get distracted with a relationship. For now, we are grateful to have each other as a guide to the opposite sex. We quickly develop a routine and meet a few nights a week at the café. She ends up landing a job there which is much less stressful. I pick up as many shifts as I can at Benoit. Chef Andre is such a great coach and mentor. It’s an honor to train under him. After a few days with him, my culinary skills expand. He recommends that I sign up to work at several of the spring festivals around Europe. You volunteer to work with various restaurants and, in turn, get to learn their tips and tricks on how to cook their ethnic cuisine for an entire weekend.

  There is a festival coming up in Madrid, in April, just before Christine heads back to the states. We plan to go as a final send-off and take in some sight-seeing while we’re there. We arrive two days early, staying in a youth hostel to save on costs. There is plenty to do and see. We end up eating and drinking our way through the day while Christine takes in every ounce of the exquisite architecture and history. Now I have two long, grueling days of work ahead of me. I enjoy interacting and learning from the Spaniards. On our way back to Paris, I have to drop her off at the airport to bid her farewell. Christine is undoubtedly my closest friend, aside from Mac, but in many ways, we have a much deeper friendship. It feels different being friends with a girl; conversation has more meaning. I don’t know how to explain it but I feel more connected. As we approach the airport, my heart sinks as I say to her, “Ye look glum.”

  “I’m not going to lie, I’m sad. I don’t want to go back,” Christine says. “It’s gone by so quick. I haven’t experienced enough of Europe and God knows my French could use more polishing. Plus, I’m going to miss you,” she says as I reach out to give her a big hug. My emotions take over. I don’t want her to leave. She can’t leave and I don’t want to be her friend. I want HER.

  I turn toward her and grab her face. “The thought of ye leaving is breaking my heart. I know we’ve only been friends but I’m in love with ye Mary Christine Francis.” I lay a kiss on her as if my life depends on it.

  “Oh, Finn. I feel the exact same way. I’ve felt this way for a while but wasn’t sure,” she says as I kiss her again.

  “We need to figure this out. When can I see you again?” I’m asking her in desperation, realizing we are down to mere seconds.

  “I have to go back,” she says with tears streaming down her face.

  “Maybe when ye have a summer break, I can come to New York and stay with Mac. Ye can come and meet us.”

  “That will be so great. Give me enough notice so I can drive over; I’ll bring my friend Julia.”

  “Okay, it’s a plan.” I watch her walk through the sliding double doors as loneliness sets in. At that moment, I begin my internal countdown until I see her and Mac again.

  #

  We’ve been texting and calling daily. Everything is finally booked. We agree upon the week of the Fourth of July. I can’t wait to see how America celebrates their independence and can’t wait to see both Mac and Christine. Christine and her friend Julia are scheduled to arrive two days after me which will give me enough time to recover from the jet lag and give Mac and I a night to get into our own shenanigans. I can’t wait to hear all about his tour. We have so much to catch up on. Just as I’m putting the last of my things into my suitcase, my phone rings. It’s Mac. I’m assuming he’s just calling to confirm what time he needs to pick me up at the airport until I hear the tone of his voice.

  “Aye, Finn!”

  “Lad, what is it?”

  “My mum just called. My da had a massive heart attack. I’m getting on the next plane home.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Would you mind going over to the hospital to be with my mum for a bit? I’m trying to get there as soon as I can.”

  “Aye. I’ll call the rest of the guys from home and see if we can rotate until you get here.”

  I called Christine right away to let her know we would have to reschedule then rushed over to the hospital. I’m not sure if his da is still alive or hanging on. They rush him into surgery to perform a quadruple bypass before Mac makes it back so I stay with his mum until he arrives, knowing he wou
ld do the very same for me if the tables were turned. When he arrives the next morning, his da is still heavily sedated but resting comfortably. Mac greets his mum with a loving hug and tears of relief, so grateful that he’s alive. The doctors are optimistic he will make a full recovery but he will have to change his lifestyle drastically.

  Mac stays to help his mum get situated for the next several days and was by his da’s bedside when he finally came to. It is so hard for him to see his da lying weak and helpless in that hospital bed. These are the moments when the reality of your own mortality sets in. All the memories of the accident came flooding back to him. I did my best to keep him distracted. Bittersweet but we were able to get a good visit in. We shared a lot of laughs and I got to hear all about his tour with Second City and all his philandering and chasing lassies. Mac is the consummate bachelor, a woman in every port. Once I introduce him to Jules, he’ll settle down. Being together reminds me how lucky we are to always have each other no matter how much time or distance separates us. I make sure to give him a hard time since he missed out on meeting his future wife, Julia.

  #

  Christine took a job teaching English at a French school here in Paris. My mum and da are coming to the apartment in Paris for Easter weekend. They are anxious to meet her. My mum, of course, falls in love with Christine the moment she meets her. The daughter she never had. She and my mum go into town shopping while my da and I get caught up.