Finding It

Jordan Duequesne sighed bitterly as the shuttle pulled to a stop in front of a large building that looked like it belonged at ski resort. This was not at all what she expected to find here when her parents blindsided her with their little intervention, the nerve. She still couldn’t believe they thought she’d want to come here. How dare they judge her, just because she’d hadn’t had the opportunity to get married, it didn’t make her any less important then her married siblings. The anger of what her family had done to her returned like the crashing waves of a tsunami. It caused her physical pain to think about it. To think about the looks of concern and love radiating in their eyes as they were stabbing her in the back. Now on top all of the emotional repercussions she had to deal with, she had to deal with the fact that she was sitting in front of a building that didn’t exist. The Marriage Training was the stuff of legend, Mormon legend. A place that everyone claimed to know someone who’d been, but know one actually believed existed and now here she was. From what she’d heard The Marriage Training Center was a church sponsored dating camp for the perpetually single. That was about the extent of what she knew, but it didn’t matter what she knew it wouldn’t change how much she hated even the very though of this place. To make things worse, today was her birthday and she was going to be spending it banished to dating camp. It wasn’t that she didn’t like to date, or that she didn’t want to get married, it was the fact that someone was telling her that there was something wrong with her because she hadn’t found a husband. Not everyone had an easy go of dating. Not everyone’s relationships went well. Somehow these people, the people responsible for this place didn’t realize that whatever baggage they had before they checked in, was the same baggage they brought with them, and sadly Jordan needed a semi truck for hers. The bus driver helped them get their bags then directed them to check in at the front desk, just like they were at summer camp, or some resort. Jordan felt her blood pressure rise. She clenched her jaw, her throat constricting the anger of what her parents had done to her by sending her here. She slowly climbed off the bus, surveying her surroundings like a visitor to another planet. The parking lot was small, gravel instead of asphalt. There were only five cars in the parking lot. She noticed with a fair amount of malice that she appeared to be the only one unhappy to be here. There were happy smiling faces all around her, people laughing, and if she wasn’t mistaken even a few couples were in the early stages of forming. Her eyes narrowed, as she watched the rest of her fellow inmates file past her dragging their luggage. Every instinct in her screamed for her to run, to simply take her luggage and go back the way she’d come. You would think the decided lack of guards in towers, and prison bars would have been a welcome sight, but it had the exact opposite effect. It made her furious. It felt deceitful to her. A prison should look like a prison, not a ski resort. She walked down the small gravel path that lead from the parking to the main building like she was walking a tightrope. She kept her eyes to the ground and put one foot in front of the other, and didn’t stop until she had reached the base of the steps. She looked up at the door, and suddenly felt like a little girl. The door loomed in front of her. It looked like it belonged to a giant, and she was suddenly afraid to open it. She looked around and was taken back by a fresh wave of panic which coursed through her. She bit her lip in trepidation, and was just about to turn and make a run for it when the door opened. Holding it was a rather nice looking guy with a slightly crooked nose and a matching smile. “Coming in?” He asked leaning against it casually. “Actually I’m not sure yet,” she told him honestly. She laughed a little at her sudden desire to ask him whether he was friend or foe, like someone in an old movie. “Well okay then, I guess you’re on your own- I can’t hold this door all day,” he said his grin brightening just a notch. He was flirting- she hadn’t even been here five minutes, and already the scent of fresh meat was in the air. For some reason it made her mad -when the normal reaction to flirting was to be flattered, or even possibly flirt back. “Not today,” she fumed at him. He looked surprised at her attitude. “Sorry I was trying to be friendly,” he said obviously put out. He let the door go, no longer willing to be chivalrous- now that she had not reciprocated his flirting. She caught it before it hit her on the shoulder. She pulled it open, and walked inside, the familiar butterflies assaulting her stomach again. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find when she walked through the door. As she gazed out upon the scene, she discovered something that looked like a cross between a college administration building and a hotel front lobby -with a little bank thrown in for good measure. The door closed behind her with a click that sounded like the metallic clank of a prison door closing, to her rattled mind. She stood just inside the door both hands in her pockets, and just stared around her; her feet rooted to the spot like someone had put rubber cement on her shoes. In front of her was a wide reception counter where several people dressed in matching khaki pants and navy blue collared golf shirts worked behind the desk-oblivious to her awkward gawking. On either side of the desk were hallways that angled off towards the back. Behind her a large wooden staircase ran up the back wall leading to the offices upstairs. To her right and left were smaller offices with windows partially covered by blinds. She could see several people busily working through the glass, and wondered what it was that they were doing. Despite her aversion to being here she had to admit that she was curious about this place- just the same. She jumped three feet at the touch of someone’s hand on her arm. She glanced over her shoulder and came face to face with a nice looking brunette in her mid forties who was looking apologetically at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Jordan slowly nodded her head her eyes vague and empty. “I’m Sister Davies, I’m the resident coordinator here at the Center. Jordan noted the omission of the words marriage and training from her title, and wondered if it was purposeful. She didn’t have time to wonder any further because she seemed to be asking her a question that she was required to answer. “Huh?” Jordan asked blankly looking up at Sister Davies. “I was wondering if you’re checking in today?” She reiterated assuming that Jordan had not understood the question. This drew another blank look her eyebrows drawn together. “Are you checking in today,” Sister Davies said with a weary sigh. She finally got Jordan’s attention, who managed to nod sadly. Sister Davies smiled happily. “If you’ll follow me I’ll help you get started,” she said gesturing with her open palm towards the registration desk. “Kim this is Jordan, she’s going to be staying with us for a little while. Could you take care of her please?” Sister Davies asked with forced pleasantry. Kim nodded amiably pulling up the requisite information. “Kim will take real good care of you,” she insisted turning to face them looking the part of helpful host.