It was just the thing to say to break some of the tension; we both laughed, and I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God for the words.

“True. Bonus points for originality.”

I avoided his eyes as I smiled and slurped some more mocha, waiting for him to continue the conversation. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. This wasn’t just uncharted conversational territory; it was unimagined territory.

“So,” he finally ventured, “do you still believe what you said?”

I took a ridiculously long pull on my drink, finishing it off as I stalled for time and prayed. Eventually I drew a breath and looked him in the eyes. “I do. I can’t deny it; I do. If someone had said the same things to me that I said to you, back before I believed in God, I know I would have blown them off and thought they were out of their mind. So I understand if that’s how you feel, and I don’t take it personally.” I smiled, hoping to diffuse some of the weight of the conversation. “But at the same time, I would hope that you’d realize I’m not crazy, and I do have my head on straight, and that I wouldn’t have a motive for making it up.” I shrugged and dropped my hands in my lap, waiting for his reaction.

He was silent for a minute, then spoke. “You’re right, it sounds ridiculous.” He grinned slightly, I think in an attempt to soften his statement, but it came off looking smug. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. “But everyone’s entitled to his opinion—and her opinion. And far be it from me to say what you did or didn’t experience.” He shrugged. “It’s all good.”

I slapped on a smile, but inside I was completely withered. I suddenly wanted to be home. I wanted to be with Missy and Joy and Taylor and not here with this man who thought I was a simpleton. I wanted to yell at God for making me look like a fool in front of the most incredible man I’d ever met. All the fun and warmth of our time together came crashing down in a black cloud of frustration as I wondered despairingly how much longer the day would last.

Apparently my emotions were visible on my face. “I’ve made you completely uncomfortable, haven’t I?”

I shook my head wordlessly, then looked up with a small smile. “Not uncomfortable exactly, no. I don’t blame you for not believing me.” I shrugged helplessly. “So now what?”

He sat back in his chair and readjusted the cap on his head, glancing around idly and then finally sighing. “I don’t know. Does this completely eliminate all possibility of friendship?”

I leaned in closer, frowning. “No; why would it?”