by Lisa Smartt
“Thank you, Brother Dan, and all the rest of you too. I don’t know what I would have done the last few days if it hadn’t been for all of you, your kind words, your presence here at the funeral home, and the food? Gosh, the food has just been overwhelming. I’m incredibly blessed to live in this community. I’ve always known that, but I know it even more today. I loved my mom. I’m sure you all know that. She wasn’t perfect, but she cared deeply. She never gave up on me. She took good care of me and Dad. She took good care of a lot of you too. I never doubted that she loved me, never for one moment. And that’s a gift. I owe her a debt of gratitude. I’ve always appreciated people who tell the truth and I’ve no reason to skirt around the truth today. In a moment of incredible weakness, Mama took her own life Saturday night. I can’t explain it. I wasn’t prepared for it. I tried to think it was anything but what it was. There’s a lot of power and freedom in telling the truth. So the last few days I’ve had to ponder what all that means. Is taking a life a sin? It is. Any of you who’ve read the Bible know that. It’s not that complicated. But if you have read the Bible you also know there’s hope and comfort for my mom and for me. I’m thankful for the grace and mercy of God that comes through Christ. I hope I’ve always been thankful for it. But today I especially am. Because of such a gift, this life is not the end. Thank you all for coming.”
That’s the moment I fell in love with Doug Jameson. A few days after he put up shelving in his mom’s shed and made coffee in her kitchen, she selfishly took her own life. She wouldn’t be at his wedding or ever know his children. She left him. It was wrong. But he forgave her. He forgave her because he understood human weakness and sin. He forgave her because he had been forgiven. I fell in love with Doug Jameson on our fifth date at his mama’s funeral. And I’d never even kissed him.
Absolute silence filled the funeral room. No one was looking through her purse for gum. No old men were coughing into a monogrammed hanky. Charlene’s kids were even quiet. Doug sat down beside me and grabbed my hand again. When Sandy Caldwell started singing “Great is Thy Faithfulness” there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Brother Dan closed in prayer. The funeral director closed the lid on the casket. It was over.
The pall bearers carried the casket up the aisle slowly. Aunt Clarice and Aunt Charlotte stepped out next. Then Uncle Bart and Dave and Shannon. Doug put his arm around my waist and we joined them. But halfway up the aisle Doug was startled, the way a person reacts when a deer jumps in front of the car. I looked to the left and that’s when I saw her. Sandra. I knew it was her. The beautiful red hair. Sophisticated tan suit. Expensive shoes. Big confident smile. Tell me the San Diego dentist is here somewhere. Lord, please provide a dentist. I don’t think I had ever prayed that prayer before.
CHAPTER EIGHT: Along Comes Sandra
CARLIE
As we rode to the cemetery, I determined I wasn’t going to mention the Sandra sighting. After all, he said she was engaged to a dentist, that he didn’t love her the way a man should, that he didn’t want to live in California, and that he definitely didn’t want to live in a woman’s shadow.
“Doug, what you said in there… it was beautiful. It was spoken so simply and with such truthfulness. I don’t know how you did it but it was the most moving part of the service.”
“Thanks. I told Brother Dan I wanted to say a few words. I just wanted to clear the air, try to put some perspective on it all. I believe everything I said in there. I mean, about forgiveness and the power of the truth.”
“I know. I don’t think anyone in that room had doubts about your sincerity.” Oh, and I love you. I love you, Doug Jameson. The way I see it a man who can forgive all that…can forgive a woman for leaving globs of toothpaste in the sink. I’m yours and I want to marry you and sleep with you and cook breakfast for you and love you for the rest of my life. No, of course I didn’t say any of that last part. I talked about the fact that the weather was perfect, that Aunt Charlotte’s story was touching, that I wished I had known his mom and dad.
The cemetery service was short. Yes, of course, I checked the crowd for Sandra. She was near the back with an older couple. I bet they’re her parents. No young good-lookin’ dentist in sight. I dreaded what would come when the final “Amen” had been spoken.
Brother Dan said loudly, “Everyone is invited to come to the church basement for a meal. The women have worked real hard on this and we all appreciate it.”
Jim Smith from the hardware store patted Doug on the back and lit a Marlboro cigarette. Jessica came forward and explained to both of us that the huge spray of orange gladiolas was from the folks at the Electric Company. Only she gave a lot more detail than I’m giving. Then came Sandra. Doug could see her coming and I couldn’t tell what was running through his mind. I didn’t wanna know. Of course, she hugged him but not in a tacky Jessica-like way. No. She hugged him like someone who knew him well. Like someone who had known him all his life.
“Carlie, I’d like you to meet Sandra Miller. Sandra, this is Carlie Davidson. She lives in Commerce, Georgia.”
“Nice to meet you, Sandra.” Gosh, she is ridiculously pretty and sophisticated to boot. She’s not at all skinny though. He must like curves. Her teeth are perfectly straight. Clearly, her parents sprung for the braces.
“Nice to meet you too, Carlie. Doug, I’m so sorry about your mom. She was a great lady. She was always so supportive. She’ll be missed in this community. My parents are broken up by it all. But Dad’s not feelin’ too well so Mom took him back to the house. I’m sorry we weren’t able to be at visitation last night.”
“Oh, I’m sorry about your dad. I’d heard he was having some heart trouble.”
“Yeah, he’s goin’ to Vanderbilt this week. It’s been a hard thing but we all feel pretty hopeful.”
“So how is it that our most famous California resident has returned to her humble hometown? I bet it’s been a year since I’ve seen you.”
“Can you believe I finally finished the program? It felt like it took forever. But I got the Ph.D in August so that’s Dr. Miller to you, Doug Jameson.” She wasn’t saying it in a proud or haughty way. She was funny and I liked her. I mean, I would have liked her if her teeth weren’t perfect, and if she weren’t looking at Doug like she wanted to marry him.
“Finally? Sandra, you’re twenty-five. I don’t think you’re running behind on life’s fine-tuned schedule, at least not yet. Oh, and Mom had said you were engaged, a dentist in San Diego?”
“Not anymore. That went south.” She looked down at the ground and bit her lip as though she were embarrassed. “The plan was for me to graduate in August, get a job, get married in December and live happily ever after, right? Last month he decided he’d live the happily-ever-after part with a gal who recently got her wisdom teeth removed. I crashed. I’m talkin’ emotional break-down. But I’m okay now. Mom and Dad suggested I come back home for a while. Get grounded. Do the job search from here. I’ve been here a week and it’s workin’ out so far. There are definitely some prospects on the horizon.”
Uh-oh. Perhaps I shouldn’t have fallen in love a few minutes ago. Now that the dentist has bitten the dust, I fear that Doug Jameson is a prospect on her horizon. Gosh, Sandra, stand in line behind Jessica and Marcie. What is it about this guy? No wonder his parents didn’t pay for braces. Clearly unnecessary.
“I hope you’ll join us for lunch back at the church, Sandra.”
“Sure. I told Mom to just take Dad home and I would get a ride with someone.”
“Oh, you can ride with Dave and Shannon. You remember my cousin, Shannon?”
Okay. If I weren’t in love before, I definitely am now. Ten points for Doug Jameson for not inviting his pretty redheaded former girlfriend to ride in the truck with us on our fifth date coming home from the cemetery where his mom was just buried. Try saying that five times fast.
“Uh, yeah, I remember Shannon.”
“She and Dave are right over here. Shannon! Can Sandra ride with you gu
ys to the church?”
“Sure! We’ll meet her at the car.”
“Sandra, looks like your Nissan Altima awaits.”
I could see the disappointment all over her face. I felt for her. I had been there many times. Like all those times Jim Flanders was goin’ on and on about whether I liked his tie. But the handwriting was on the wall. Jim Flanders wasn’t interested in me. Doug had just written something like that on Sandra’s wall or at least I thought he did. I couldn’t be sure.
He opened the truck door for me and held my hand while I slid onto the flawlessly clean gray upholstery.
When he got into the truck he just put his hands on the wheel, took a deep breath and said, “Whew! It’s been quite a day.”
“It all went well, Doug. I mean, I know it was terrible and sad and tragic. But the whole funeral and burial, it was beautiful. I can’t think of how it could have been any more meaningful.”
“Yeah. Brother Dan did a great job. But I’m glad it’s all over.”
He started the truck and backed out of the grassy area where we were parked.
And at that moment I made a decision. I wasn’t going to be like some needy little puppy who’d been dropped on the side of the road, crying out for love and protection. I wasn’t going to say something like, “Sandra sure is pretty. What was it like to see her standing there?” or “Doug, should I be worried about the fact that Sandra’s living in Sharon again?” I wasn’t going to say, “That’s too bad about Sandra getting her heart broken by the dentist in San Diego.” No. I was gonna leave it alone. I was gonna be Carlie Ann Davidson and let it all fall where it was destined to fall. The hardest part? The hardest part was not looking into his eyes and saying, “Doug, pick me.”
Only about forty people came to the church basement for the meal. I knew it would be that way. Just relatives and close family friends. Most people left the cemetery and went home for lunch or went through the drive-thru at Dairy Barn. That’s kind of the unwritten rule in small southern towns. The after-funeral meal was always when people took off their shoes or their ties. It was the time when out-of-town relatives could re-connect and children could run around unsupervised while old people told stories about hog killin’ or walkin’ to school in the snow. Doug introduced me to his great Uncle Charlie who looked to be about one hundred. Seated in a metal chair, he was wearing a tan leisure suit and combing his hair with a comb that said “Vote Dan Smith for School Board.” I had a feeling Dan Smith hadn’t run for school board in several decades.
“Uncle Charlie, this is Carlie Ann. She’s from Georgia.”
“Georgia? I spent some time at Fort Benning, but that was long ‘fore you was born. So you like our Doug here, do ya?”
“I do like him, Sir.”
“Yeah, I reckon you could do worse. Reckon so.”
Doug spoke up, “Uncle Charlie, just stay right here and Carlie and I will get you a plate.”
“No need. Charlotte’s done gettin’ me fixed up. Promised me some of Mabel’s pecan pie if Chester ain’t got to it first.” We all smiled as if to say, “Chester’s not all that bad.”
Doug and I walked toward the buffet table which was overloaded with everything that had ever been on the cover of a church cookbook. There wasn’t a can of cream soup left on a grocery store shelf within ten miles. Broccoli casserole. Chicken spaghetti. Tater tot casserole. Hash brown casserole. Every kind of vegetable which could be cooked to death and then combined with a stick of butter and a can of soup was present and accounted for. Doug handed me a Chinet plate and said, “Dig in, Carlie.”
I wasn’t hungry. A shocking revelation for someone who could eat a whole lemon meringue pie and still walk straight. My stomach was in knots. I kept glancing over toward Sandra who was now talking to Dave and Shannon and Doug’s fourth grade teacher. I wondered what Dave and Shannon thought. In the car, had Sandra asked about me? Had she said, “Doug’s girlfriend sure seems nice.” or “How long has Doug been dating the tall girl from Georgia?” Did Dave and Shannon think Sandra was funny and smart and perfect for him? In Pictionary, could Sandra Miller have drawn a triceratops that wouldn’t have made Doug yell out, “chocolate chip cookie!”? Yeah. She could have. God and everybody in the room knew that Sandra Miller wasn’t going to take second place. Her triceratops would have been perfect. Just like her.
“Doug, believe it or not, I’m not that hungry. I guess it was that blueberry muffin I had for breakfast. Pretty rich.”
“But it’s almost 1:00, Carlie. There are some plain ham sandwiches over there. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah. That’s great.”
I put the ham sandwich on my plate along with some coleslaw and a cluster of grapes. Doug loaded his plate with all the cheesy casseroles, two yeast rolls, a piece of chocolate cake, and a lemon square. He didn’t seem nervous at all. I guess he wasn’t worried about Sandra’s keen ability to draw a triceratops. He took off his suit coat and when he did I wanted to hug him right there in front of everybody. But of course, I didn’t. He took off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and got comfortable. I wanted to watch him do that every night. Not the tie part because savvy rural bankers don’t wear ties. Everybody knows that.
We sat at a long table across from Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Bart. It didn’t seem like Doug was looking for Sandra. I mean, he didn’t glance around the room nervously. He didn’t seem distracted by her presence. He was determined to tell me the origin of everything on his plate. “Mabel always makes the tater tot casserole. Mrs. Ida brought this broccoli casserole. That coleslaw is homemade by Jim Smith’s mother and she’s ninety-four. She still works at the hardware store three days a week. Imogene Simmons makes these homemade rolls that would make you slap your grandma.” I was listening and smiling but I was hurting a little bit inside. He had kissed Sandra Miller. Lots and lots of times he had kissed her. He may have done a lot more than that. How would I know? When he saw her picture in the newspaper years ago it had made him want her. I knew what want her meant. He was a man. She was a woman. He told her he would wait for her. He told her that he loved her. And now she was standing next to a sign that said, “Jesus loves fifth graders” and he hardly seemed to notice.
Dave and Shannon went through the line with Sandra. I knew they would. It spoke more of their kindness and character than it did of Sandra. She was there alone and they would take it upon themselves to host her, make her feel comfortable, love her. When they approached our table, I wondered how it was all gonna go down. I was right across from Uncle Bart. Doug was across from Aunt Charlotte but no one was sitting on the other side of him. Dave quickly sat down next to Doug. I took it as a personal favor. Shannon sat next to Dave. Sandra sat across from them right next to Aunt Charlotte. Here we all were. Uncle Bart and Aunt Charlotte had been married forty-two years. Dave and Shannon had been married three years. Doug and Sandra thought they were in love once. They kissed a lot and made big plans at the Steak n Shake in Jackson. And me? I was on a fifth date with someone I hardly knew. Someone I loved.
Charlotte grabbed Sandra’s hand and spoke loudly, “It’s so good to see you, Child. You’re as purdy as you ever were. And it was good to see yer Daddy out too. I hear he’s doin’ a little better these days.”
“Yeah, we hope so. Did ya hear, Mrs. Charlotte? I’m back in town now. I got my schooling done and I’m looking for a job. Most of my job hunting can be done on the internet and through some of my colleagues back in California.”
“Well, bless yer heart! Welcome back to Sharon, Baby. I know yer Mama and Daddy is proud as punch! And I bet yer a big help to yer Mama right now. It’s a big job takin’ care of somebody that feels poorly. Yes, it is.”
“I’m glad to be back. When I left, I guess I was young and impulsive and I thought I had the world by the tail. I’m older now and things have changed. Maybe I appreciate Sharon a little more…and the people here especially.” She looked right at Doug when she said it.
Sometimes a thirty-two-year-old woman just
knows things. I knew Doug’s coffee cups were perfectly organized in his kitchen cabinet and I knew what Sandra Miller’s comment meant. It wasn’t really the town of Sharon that she appreciated. It wasn’t the fact that there’s only one policeman in town and he hangs out at the barber shop talkin’ about high school football. She didn’t appreciate the fact that Jim Miller’s mom could still make delicious coleslaw and keep the books down at the hardware store even though she was ninety-four. She wasn’t excited about the new convenience store opening up out on the bypass and the fact that they were gonna sell take-out pizza. No. Sandra Miller appreciated the town of Sharon because there was a kind, solid, good lookin’ banker here who had once loved her. Time had passed and she hoped he could love her again.
I stopped eating. I tried to smile. But it was the same smile that movie stars plaster on their faces when they don’t win the Oscar. The TV camera focuses in on them and they smile real big as if to say, “It was a privilege just to be nominated. I’m glad Meryl Streep won for the millionth time in a row. I’m happy for her. Really I am.”
I think Shannon knew I felt like I’d been beaten out of an Oscar by Meryl Streep. She looked behind Dave’s head, caught my eye, and smiled as if to say, “It’s okay, Carlie. God is in control.”
Lunch seemed to take forever. People were hugging Doug and patting him on the back. Others were getting re-acquainted with Sandra. How did she like living in a small town again? How was her daddy? What did it feel like to be Dr. Miller? I was pleasant and tried to make small talk when called upon. But I was busy pondering. I remembered that afternoon I almost threw Doug’s business card in the trash…but I didn’t. I remembered Mr. Rockford’s kind words as he checked out two vanilla cake mixes and a roll of paper towels. I remembered my grandma saying that someday a man would sweep me off my feet and I shouldn’t settle for less than the best. All those experiences had led to this moment. So, why did I want to go to a corner and cry? Because I’m a girl. It made me think of that time when Julia Roberts looked at Hugh Grant in “Notting Hill” and said, “I’m just a girl…standing in front of a boy…asking him to love her.” Yeah. Not an easy moment. Ask Julia Roberts. She was crying when she said it.
