“I’m sorry,” I say. The phrase is a cliché, but I believe someone means it when they don’t repeat the same mistakes. And I’m going to show her I mean it.
She blubbers for a moment before she can say it back. “I’m sorry too, sis. Man …” She laughs through her tears. “If I’d known you’d really had an allergy, I wouldn’t have made so many cakes when you came over.”
I laugh with her. Another small thing that felt like a big thing. It wasn’t the action of baking the cake so much as her intent that had hurt. And maybe that’s why envy is so destructive. Because one’s intentions are never in favor of the other person.
Suddenly I don’t feel like such a failure. Not because I’m any different but because I don’t have to compete. I don’t have to prove myself. I’m Esau when Jacob apologized.
Whereas I’d once blamed God for playing favorites, our relationship with Him is not so much about favorites as it is about favor. It’s like that story Jesus tells where the landowner hires workers for his vineyard throughout the day. He tells those he hires in the morning how much he’ll pay them, then when he pays the workers hired later in the day that same amount, the ones he’d hired earlier expected more than what they’d agreed to. Their envy wanted less for others, whereas God’s favor was about giving more.
I don’t want less for Jewel anymore. I want her to feel beautiful and loved. I want her to be lavished with abundance beyond what she could earn. And there is much peace in realizing God wants this for all of us.
“A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.” The verse from the first Bible study I did with Charlie and Kai comes back to me the same way Jewel’s psychology training comes back to her. It had stuck in my memory, and now I know why. I needed it.
I’ve had exactly what I needed all along. I have a rewarding job as a high school English teacher that gives me summers off to write scripts, and two roommates who can make those scripts into movies. What a gift.
I think of my script again. And I realize what it’s been missing. Rather than have the last character continue the problem by envying the first, she can start to see how envy made a mess of the first character’s life and how she would have been better off with her own shoes. She can then reverse the cycle, reverting them all back to the stories we know and love.
They simply have to choose to be happy. Choose gratefulness over envy, as the Bible says. Then they can all have hearts at peace.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KARSON
Being a hero doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It just means that you’re brave enough to stand up and do what’s needed.
—RICKRIORDAN
Now that I’ve said goodbye to Gemma, I have to cut ties with her roommates as well. Otherwise she and I will run into each other and become one of those on-again, off-again couples who want to be together but can’t make it work. I never understood those kinds of relationships in the past, but with Gemma I’m tempted to reconnect in spite of how much disconnecting again will tear me apart.
To keep that from happening, I’ve written a report against Charlie’s request for filming a documentary about the impact of defunding the police in Portland, and I’m going to present it to the chief. I’m sure Charlie would have done a good job with it, but we’re already operating with a reduced force, and the distraction would reduce it even more. Especially my ability to focus. Though I can’t present that case for consideration.
I’m not sure if it’s good or bad that I’m bringing Harris along. But he’s always been my backup.
“Lieutenant Zellner. Officer Harris.” Chief McGinty is a jolly-looking, middle-aged man whose hairline has retreated far enough that he really needs to put sunscreen on the top of his head if he’s not wearing a hat. It’s currently a hot-pink color that can’t be healthy.
He stands up to shake hands. It’s a very formal greeting from the man who trained me back when I thought I was going to be able to decrease crime and basically become a superhero. I’m not sure how he’s kept his jolliness with all our city has been through, but the crow’s-feet at the corner of his eyes come from smiling, and his lone dimple flashes even now.
“Hey, Chief.” Harris is also grinning his big, teddy bear grin. I’ve never really questioned his grin before, because it’s just who he is, but if both he and Chief McGinty can be joyful after working here for so long, maybe I’m doing something wrong.
I nod at both of them, then address our boss. “Chief.”
Harris and I take our places in uncomfortable plastic chairs.
McGinty leans back in his ergonomic one. “How’s safety academy going? I heard one of the students bummed a ride on a fire truck last night. Glad you guys didn’t have as many problems.”
Harris erupts in laughter. “I don’t know if I’d say that.”
I side-eye him to see if he might have already said something to McGinty about a certain student, but he’s leaning forward and covering his mouth as if trying to keep my sad attempt at a relationship a secret.
“I know there’s a film director in the class who’s interested in doing a documentary on the whole defunding movement.” The chief continues as if that was our biggest problem, so obviously he doesn’t know about Gemma.
“Yes.” I toss my report onto the desk in front of his family picture in an outdated gold frame.
He reaches for the report, but glances at me. “Give me your impression, Zellner.”
I take a deep breath and send Harris another measuring glance. He waves me to go ahead.
“Charlie Newberg supports the police force, and I believe he would present our side of the situation with the kind of objectivity that would lead viewers to think for themselves. Ideally, they would ask questions about the future of law enforcement that could lead to reform, not only regarding our negative reputation for using excessive force but actually benefiting our effectiveness and creating an impact in the city.”
