by Lisa Smartt
“Carlie, Honey, why are you crying?”
“I don’t know. It’s funny really. I mean, I guess I’ve just missed you. And our lives…well, they’re moving at such a fast pace and I’ve looked forward to this moment so much…just sitting with you again.” I started crying even more as Clara came out from her bedroom. Clara seemed embarrassed to be interrupting this obviously emotional moment. Her beautiful red hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Her clear ivory skin was perfect. She was about 5’6 and was lovely in every way…well, except that she didn’t have presence.
“Uh, I’ll just go on over to my parents’ house now, Carlie.”
“Wait, Clara. I’m okay. Just a little emotional, I guess. I want you to meet Doug. Clara, this is Doug Jameson. Doug, this is my roommate, Clara Johnson. She’s been my friend since high school.”
“Clara, I’m glad to finally meet you. I’ve heard so many great things about you and I’m glad you’ve been such a friend to Carlie.”
Clara just turned red and stared at the dingy cream-colored carpet. “Uh, nice to meet you too, Doug. I’m gone now. Won’t be back till mornin’, Carlie. Have a great time.”
“Tell your parents I said ‘Hello.’”
I felt terrible for Clara. She is so great with little kids and so “not great” with adults. Where was her Doug? How would he even find her in this horrible little apartment? And why hadn’t I tried harder to search for Clara’s knight in shining armor? When I heard her car pull out of the parking lot, I realized these were questions for another day.
I wiped my eyes one last time. “Dinner’s ready!” I walked toward the stove to retrieve the pan. “How was your trip, Doug? I mean, no problems or anything, right?”
Without saying a word, he grabbed my shoulders, turned me around, and put his hands on my face and kissed me. I had missed him more than I had ever missed anyone in my life. Signing the book contract didn’t even come close to the joy of this moment. I would never forget it. The smell of chicken spaghetti. Dentyne on his breath. The Irish clean smell that had become a distinct memory of him.
“I missed you, Carlie. I don’t know if you’ll ever understand how much I missed you.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea. I mean, there I was in New York City. The publisher said, ‘Let’s go out for a late dinner to celebrate,’ and all I could think about was getting back to the hotel room to talk to you on the phone. Yeah, I think I know how much you missed me, Doug. The feeling is mutual.”
“So, what’s the latest news on the book?”
“Scheduled for release on January 15, if we can get all the re-writes approved.”
“Wow, great! I mean, will you be going on book-signing events after that?”
“It depends. They’ll schedule some events not too far from home but the biggest thing is that they’ll give it a month or so and see if the book can ‘grow legs.’”
“And how does a book ‘grow legs’?”
“Yeah, if you find that out, let me know.”
We both laughed. I was new to the literary world. But I knew that the book could become a flop as easily as a success. I also knew a lot of that was out of my control. And somehow, I didn’t care as much as I probably should have. Doug and I spent the whole evening eating and laughing and telling more stories of childhood. We made a hard and fast rule that he would leave for the Rockfords’ house by midnight. He left at 12:47. Note to self: Be better at following rules.
Nov. 20
Breakfast With my Parents…Egads!
Doug rang the doorbell at 8:15. We were supposed to arrive at my parents’ house by 8:30. He wore dark blue jeans and a tan corduroy shirt. His hair was still damp and when it was damp it was extremely curly. I laughed to myself because he looked like a little boy on a dairy commercial. Cute and cuddly. I just prayed my mom wouldn’t chew him up and spit him out. I drove down the familiar tree-lined street where I had lived the first eighteen years of my life praying that he wouldn’t turn his back on me after meeting my mother.
“Doug, I need to prepare you. My mother, well, she’s very opinionated.”
“Sounds like my mom. Don’t worry. I know the drill. Be nice. Agree with her as much as I can and don’t bring up controversial subjects.”
“Wow, you’re good.”
“Look Carlie, I’ve told you enough about my mom that you know she was crazy and controlling and judgmental. Trust me. Your mom can’t be any worse than mine was.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
As we pulled in the driveway, I laughed out loud making note of the completely flawless way my mom hung the outside Christmas lights every year. No one was allowed to help her. The strings of lights had to be measured and hung with perfection as the goal. A NASA engineer would have been proud of her precision.
About that time Mom came out onto the sidewalk wearing creased gray pants, a black sweater vest, and a starched white shirt. She had been a perfect size 9 since the eighth grade. She was sixty-one years old and still wore a size 9. This was one of her goals in life…and she had achieved it, though not quietly. “Carlie! Doug! We’re so glad you’re here!”
Doug extended his right hand and put on the biggest smile I had ever seen. “Mrs. Davidson, it’s so nice to meet you. Thanks for inviting us to breakfast.”
“Well, you’re welcome. Carlie has spoken so highly of you, Doug.”
I realized at that moment that Doug was the kind of man that women everywhere wanted to bring home to Mom and Dad. He had skills. Not over-powering. But just friendly enough to be considered engaging and worthy of serious consideration.
When Dad came through the entry way, I naturally went to hug him. “Daddy, this is Doug.”
“Nice to meet ya, Doug. You’ve sure made our little girl swoon.”
It didn’t even bother me that Daddy said “swoon.” He was almost sixty-five and no one expected him to wear gold jewelry or hip-hop jeans. He could say swoon if he wanted to. In fact, his word usage went perfectly with his navy blue Sansabelt pants and brown wingtip shoes. Daddy’s pants were a size 32 waist when he was in high school. He wore a size 40 now. He wasn’t like Mom. Thank God for small favors.
Mom had the breakfast table set perfectly: a freshly-ironed white tablecloth, white china with yellow flowers painted in the middle, real silverware that had been hand-polished, white roses from the flower shop downtown.
“Mom, it all looks beautiful.”
“Oh Honey, this was no problem at all. Just something I threw together.”
We all sat at our assigned seats and I was kind of glad Mom and Daddy hadn’t invited my brothers. I wanted this time for Doug to get to know them without the background noise of my little brothers and their exciting lives.
Daddy had just spoken the “Amen” over breakfast when Mom began her questioning.
“Doug, Carlie tells us you’re in banking.”
“Yes Ma’am. I work mostly with rural and farm loans. The town where I live is similar to Commerce. Small. I really like it.”
“Would you like to move up in the banking business? I mean, would you be open to going somewhere else if it meant a promotion?”
Shoot. Why did Mom have to do this? Why couldn’t she just stick with perfecting the art of Christmas lighting instead of trying to perfect my boyfriend.
“Mrs. Davidson, I think it depends on the way a person defines ‘promotion.’ Every day I help people fulfill their dreams. I help farmers buy more land, farm more crops. I can’t imagine that another job would be a promotion…I mean, not really. I guess the answer is ‘no.’ I’m not interested in another job in another town.”
“Well, that’s certainly your prerogative, Doug.”
I knew Daddy would change the subject. “So, what do you think about our little girl becoming a real writer, Doug?”
“It’s pretty exciting. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person either.”
“Yeah, that’s what Mom and I have always believed.”
Doug and I
lived through two hours at my parents’ house. We lived through Mom explaining why she can’t eat hash browns because of the carbs. We lived through the photo albums of my third grade play. “Carlie was always a lot bigger than the other children. Bless her!” We lived through Mom re-applying lipstick and Daddy sneaking an extra biscuit while she was in the bathroom. We lived through the story of my family life condensed into two hours. I just hoped Doug wouldn’t hold any of it against me. I wasn’t the writer of it. I was only a chapter.
As we pulled out of the drive, Mom yelled, “Carlie Honey, come again and bring Doug with you! Be careful not to hit the mailbox this time.”
I chose silence as we drove back up the tree-lined street.
“That went well. They were exactly like you had described, Carlie.”
“Look, if you want me to drop you off at the Rockfords’ house so you can hop in your car and race back to Sharon deleting my number from your cell phone as you drive 80 mph down the freeway, I’ll understand. I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Are you serious? I thought I was gonna have to jump out of the car when you slowed down at a curve.”
Doug was smiling. I knew he wouldn’t leave me regardless of my mother’s ridiculousness. He wasn’t the leaving kind. Mr. Rockford had called him solid. And Mr. Rockford doesn’t lie.
We spent the rest of the weekend laughing and grieving Sunday afternoon’s cruel separation. It was a blissful time. This is what people meant by falling in love. I couldn’t imagine anything better. It didn’t even bother me when my Sunday School teacher’s wife whispered in my ear, “Wow, he’s cute, Carlie. How did you snag such a ‘looker’?”
We ate lunch at the Rockfords’ house. When we got home from church, Mrs. Rockford’s crockpot roast and potatoes had filled the house with a savory aroma that reminded me of my grandma’s house. Four red plastic placemats had already been set carefully on the kitchen table with plain white Corelle plates and a white paper napkin folded on the left. Coleslaw in a small crystal bowl was retrieved from the refrigerator. Brown n’ Serve rolls were put in the oven. Homemade apple pie sitting on the counter. Sweet tea in big glasses. Sunday dinner in the south.
Mr. Rockford patted Doug on the back. “I wanted to take ya to the best place I knew to eat. So here we are!”
Mrs. Rockford smiled and said, “Stanley’s always been my biggest fan. And I’m his too.”
We stood in awe of the simplicity of their love and service to each other. Inspiring. I helped Mrs. Rockford clean up the kitchen while Doug and Mr. Rockford sat in the living room.
“Carlie, it looks like you’re rather smitten with our Doug. And he with you.”
“Yes ma’am. He’s a wonderful man.”
“He is. And you know we think a lot of you and your family. Always have. A lotta people think they understand love and can explain it. I mean, I watch those early mornin’ shows on television and there’s always somebody on there tryin’ to explain why love works sometimes and why it doesn’t. Silly, if you ask me. Love is a decision, Carlie. Deciding to put someone else’s needs above your own. When both people do that, it’s love and it looks like love and other people can tell it’s love too. There’s a mystery as to why a man is drawn to a certain woman and vice versa. That’s a beautiful mystery only God can explain and he hasn’t cared to explain it to the rest of us as of yet. But I know this. It’s wonderful. It’s wonderful in the beginning and for folks like Stanley and me…well, it’s wonderful even in the end.”
“Yes ma’am. It is beautiful.”
November 21 2:45 pm
Doug had planned to leave Commerce by 1:00. But we weren’t doing very well sticking to our plans.
“Carlie, I have to go. Can I come back in two weeks?”
“You can come back tomorrow. In fact, why don’t you just stay to save you the trip back?”
“You’re beautiful when you’re funny.”
“That’s what all the rural bankers say.”
When he laughed, his eyes closed for a second. I was memorizing his face but I didn’t have enough time. Never enough time. I cried as he pulled out of the parking lot of my dumpy apartment building. I had no idea he wouldn’t be back to Commerce in two weeks or four weeks or two months. Life wasn’t going to help us stick to our plans.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: The More Things Change…The More They Stay The…Uh-Oh, This Time They’re Really Changin’
CARLIE
November 22
I dreaded going to class because none of it meant anything to me anymore. Well, truthfully, classes had never really meant that much to me. Studying was never my strong suit. But it was even less important now. I wanted Doug Jameson. It was all I could think about. I wanted him physically. I wanted him emotionally. I wanted him in every way. Dr. Chesterton was constantly pushing me to be excited about the book contract and about graduation and about my future. But all I wanted was to wake up every morning next to him. It was crazy. I sat in my regular seat in Dr. Chesterton’s class and tried to prepare my mind for British literature. I only had ten days of college left and I couldn’t blow it now. I needed decent grades on my final exams. Doug would be here in three weeks for my college graduation. Mom had planned a huge party. It was all moving along like clockwork. Note to self: When life moves along like clockwork, be prepared.
“Carlie, I need to speak with you for a few minutes in my office.”
“Sure, Dr. Chesterton.” I walked down the ever-familiar hallway past the bulletin board filled with flyers about International studies programs. I had always wanted to do a travel study program, but I was busy working and I’d never even applied for a passport. I dreamed of going to Ireland. But I’d spent ten years stocking shelves of marshmallow crème instead. That’s okay. It’s not like my life was over. It was just beginning.
“Carlie, you may have a job offer. Joan sent your book out for some preliminary reviews and well, the reviews have been amazing. They’re doing a rush on the book to get it on shelves by December 15. You’re scheduled for some interviews in New York City around that time. Today’s Woman is not only going to do a feature on your book for one of their spring issues, they want to talk to you about a job. The features editor said they needed a smart single southern girl to bring some humor and balance to the pages of their magazine. If you’re interested, you need to be on a plane by the end of this week. Joan told them you could probably be there for an official interview Friday morning. You’ll need to fly out Thursday afternoon. Well…what do you think?”
“Wow…I mean, Wow. I wasn’t prepared for all this. But yeah, of course, I’m excited. Who wouldn’t be?”
“Look, you need to call Joan as soon as you get out of class. She has a full docket of interviews scheduled for you and she’ll solidify the meeting with Today’s Woman on Friday. You’re going to be spending a lot of time in New York City, Carlie. Your professors will work with you at this point on finishing up classes. I know Joan can make a way for you to be back for graduation ceremonies. But there’s not going to be a lot of free time. Are you ready?”
“Sure. I mean, I guess. I mean, yes! And thanks, Dr. Chesterton.”
What was I saying? I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t fathom working in New York City. Less than a month ago I was stocking shelves at the Dollar General Store in Commerce, Georgia. Now Dr. Chesterton says I could be moving to New York City to work for a national magazine. The biggest question? How could I wake up every morning next to a rural West Tennessee banker if I were living in an apartment in New York City?
Joan worked out all the details. My professors agreed to let me complete my exams online and they all seemed genuinely excited for my opportunities with the book and the job. Joan said I would be in Commerce on the eighteenth for graduation and on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. She couldn’t promise anything more. I agreed. I agreed in the same way a cow agrees to be slaughtered. I was already in the chute and there was no place to turn around. How would I break the news to Doug that I might not ever come
back?
November 22 8:00 pm
The phone startled me.
“Hello.”
“How’s the prettiest girl in Commerce, Georgia?”
“I don’t know, but I could call her and get back with ya. Gosh, you’re in a good mood.”
“I am, Carlie. I got word today that I’m getting an award from the Tennessee Banking Association. Seems someone you know was awarded Loan Officer of the Year. I don’t know for sure what that means, but hey, I oughta at least get a country ham out of the deal, right?”
“Oh, absolutely! And make ‘em throw in a pound of country sausage! Wow! Congrats, Doug! You’ve earned it. Sometimes integrity pays and you’re living proof of that. I’m proud of you. Really, they couldn’t have chosen a better guy.”
“Tell me you can go to the awards banquet with me on the thirtieth.”
“Of this month?”
“Yeah, December thirtieth n Nashville. It’s at the Opryland Hotel and it’s beautiful that time of year.”
“Oh Doug, I don’t think I can swing it. Things have changed, well, a lot, even in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Really? What’s goin’ on?”
“Well, I’m leaving for New York on Thursday afternoon. Seems they’re doing a push to release the book on December 15 rather than January 15. The publishers have filled the month of December with interviews and promotional gigs. And I have an interview with Today’s Woman magazine on Friday morning.”
“An interview about the book?”
“Not exactly. Seems Harper Collins sent out all these promotional copies of the book and things…well, they’re lookin’ good right now. Today’s Woman is interested in interviewing me for a job.”
“Wow. Well, hey, congratulations Carlie. I mean, that’s amazing. I’m sure you’ll be gettin’ more than just a country ham out of that deal, yes?”
Doug was trying to sound supportive but I wasn’t buying it.
