by Lisa Smartt
“I’d sure love to be there right now, Shannon. You have no idea.”
“Is everything okay? I mean, you like the job and everything?”
“I do. They say the book is selling well and the interviews have been fine. I’m going on the Today Show Wednesday morning. Can you believe it? I get to meet Matt Lauer.”
“Of course, I believe it, Carlie! We all knew you were talented and special.”
“Even when I drew a Triceratops that looked like a chocolate chip cookie?”
“Oh yeah, even then! Especially then! Wow! That’s pretty exciting about being on the Today Show! We’ll be sure to watch or TiVo it.”
“Thanks. It’s not that I’m not thankful. I’m thankful for my job and the opportunities I have here. I am. But I’m lonely, Shannon. I live in a city with millions of people and I feel utterly alone. I’ve gone twice to this small church near my apartment but I haven’t connected with anyone yet. The people at work are friendly but I don’t wanna throw myself on ‘em. I don’t know. This is supposed to be the most exciting time of my life. But sometimes I think, ‘Really? This is all it is?’”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m still praying.”
“Thanks. I haven’t given up hope.”
“Yeah, it’s way too soon to give up. I’ve gotta go. Call anytime, Carlie. Anytime, day or night.”
“You too. Bye.”
CHAPTER TWENTY: Lonely Days Of Winter
DOUG
January 3
Volunteer Community Hospital, Martin, Tennessee
“Good Morning! How’s my favorite patient?”
“Ready to run a marathon.”
“Well then, let me get your running shoes.”
“It looks like you’re carrying a decaf cappuccino which would help my running immensely, Doug.”
“You’re in luck.”
“The doctor says I can probably go home today.”
“That’s great! I have a rental car and can pick you up whenever you get released.”
“Actually, Brother Dan is bringing Mom this morning and they’ll just take me home.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, that makes sense. You’re not scared to ride with me are you, Sandra?”
“Of course not. But I also don’t want you to think, well, that you’re responsible for me, that you have to do everything for me. Other people are available.”
“Yeah, I get that. Something looks different. Do you have on make-up? And your hair? You’ve given up that greasy pulled-back look…which is sad ‘cause it was workin’ for ya, Sandra. Really.”
“Aren’t you funny? Yeah, one of the nurses helped me look a little more presentable this morning. Washed my hair and I feel like a new woman.”
“I bet.” Sandra no longer looked like a battered woman. She looked healthy and beautiful. I couldn’t help but notice that the hospital gown was pulled tight around her chest. Interesting.
I tried to sound optimistic. “So what is the plan for today?”
“Well, let’s see, Doug. Mindless TV. Ridiculous magazines. And all the Jell-o I can eat.”
“That a girl. Whatcha watchin’?”
“Today show. Turn it up and we’ll learn what’s goin’ on in the world?”
We watched news of a bomber in Scotland, a dog who had rescued a woman from a burning building in Jacksonville, but I wasn’t prepared for what came next:
“And for all you single women, we have some expert advice and humor coming up next. The author of ‘A Single Woman’s Guide to Ordinary’ makes her first appearance on the Today Show to talk about life, love, and laughter for the modern single woman.” Carlie waved at the camera and smiled in a most natural way. Her hair was a little different. Beautiful. Her body looked amazing contrary to what she would have thought. Pink sweater with a multi-colored scarf. Long black skirt. Black boots. I was mesmerized.
Finally Sandra spoke. “Wow! Carlie’s on TV! Pretty impressive.”
“Yeah. I’m happy for her. We don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to.” I wasn’t about to confess that I was recording it on TiVo at the apartment. That Shannon had called me and told me to watch it.
“Are you kidding? Of course, we’re gonna watch it, Doug. It’s back on. Turn it up.”
“We’re pleased to introduce you to a new author who’s quickly making a name for herself. Carlie Ann Davidson’s ‘A Single Woman’s Guide to Ordinary’ has only been on the market a few weeks but it’s becoming an internet sensation. Carlie, we’re glad to have you here this morning.”
“It’s my pleasure to be here, Matt.”
“Okay. So I’m reading your background last night and I’m thinkin’, ‘Impossible.’ Is it true that only a few months ago you were shelving groceries at a store in Georgia while finishing up an English degree?”
“Absolutely. I worked at the Dollar General Store for ten years and if you could see me wield a case of Hawaiian Punch…well, you’d be pretty impressed.”
He smiled sincerely. “I’m sure. How did you get interested in this subject, Carlie? What made you think you could write this book?”
“Well obviously, I’m single but I’m not one of those women trying to prove I’m happy about it. I’m not really that happy about it, Matt. So, if you know someone…I’m open to suggestions.”
He laughed so genuinely, “Are you asking for referrals?”
“Oh, absolutely! But they have to be tall. I’m 5’11 and not all men can handle that. You’re definitely tall enough for me, Matt. But I know you’re happily married and you may not like a woman with such a big caboose.”
Again, his laugh was genuine, “Have you always been funny and how did you find the other funny women you interview in the book?”
“Every woman interviewed for the book has a few things in common: They’re southern, single, and willing to talk about it. Most of them I knew personally. Others were recommended to me by friends. We just started chatting and enjoying similar experiences. The book was truly a project of love.” Carlie then looked directly into the camera, “Women, please go out and buy the book. Really. I need the money. Buy it so I don’t continue wearing hideous shoes my mom hates. Heck, you can buy the book even if you’re a man. I won’t mind.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you wouldn’t,” he said with a smile. “Carlie, the book talks a lot about love or the lack thereof. At the time of the writing, you were thirty and unattached. Two years have passed and you’re telling me you still haven’t found love?”
Carlie’s face grew deathly serious. “I’m not saying that.”
“Oh, so who’s the lucky guy?”
“Well Matt, here’s the deal. I can love someone but that doesn’t mean he loves me back.”
“I’m sorry about that, Carlie. Let’s go a different direction then. Your book makes it obvious that you’re proud to be a southern girl. Yet you recently moved to New York City to take a job with Today’s Woman. Have you been out with any of the men here in the city? And what do you believe are the differences between small-town southern men and men from the big city?”
“It’s funny you asked that question because a very nice man from work took me to dinner last night and showed me around. But truthfully, I don’t think he was that impressed with me. I was home by 8:30. Is that a bad sign? As to the differences, men in the rural South tend to shoot their own dinner…and I think that’s frowned upon in Times Square.”
Matt bowed his head in laughter and then held up the book and extended his hand to Carlie. “You are a delight, Carlie Ann Davidson. The book is ‘A Single Woman’s Guide to Ordinary.’ Available now. Back in a moment with weight loss tips for the New Year.”
The silence in Sandra’s small hospital room was deafening. I was hurting so badly that I wanted to throw up. She had gone to dinner with another man. She thought I didn’t love her. Matt Lauer thought she was funny and engaging and adorable and I’m sure he wasn’t the only one. Carlie lived in New York City now and she was famous or almost famous. She looked ev
en more beautiful than the last time I saw her. And I thought her big rear end was perfect. I always had. I didn’t need the world to tell me she was wonderful. I knew that even when the world ignored her completely.
Depression was setting in. I hadn’t shaved in two days and was sitting in a hospital room in Martin, Tennessee, with a woman who didn’t have insurance. A woman I was now obligated to care for. A woman I wanted to love but couldn’t.
Sandra finally broke through the silence. “She was great, Doug. Really. She has a gift.”
“Yeah. She did well. Funny too. Great to hear that the book’s doin’ well.”
I excused myself to the bathroom and we never mentioned the interview again. I went to work and told Sandra to call me when she was home. Told her I’d bring dinner from Sammy’s Sandwich Emporium and did she want Sour Cream and Onion Chips or Sun Chips. Susan Mathis stuck her head in my office door and asked how Sandra was doing. I told her she was going home today. Susan bragged about the amount of work I had managed to get done at the bank despite the difficulties of the wreck. But I think she knew I was only going through the motions. She was trying to give me a pep talk without calling it a pep talk.
There’s not much to write about the cold months of January and February. I grew a beard. I paid two high school kids from church to pack and move all my things from my apartment to Mom and Dad’s house on January 12. Most of those boxes are still in the garage. I donated my furniture to Good Will. I ate supper on the cream-colored couch every night. I took dinner to Sandra and Mrs. Miller every night for three weeks straight and they always asked me to stay and I always said that I couldn’t. The ladies from church volunteered to do some of the nights but I refused. I owed Sandra and Mrs. Miller and everyone in town knew it. I was weary of everyone’s constant questions, “How’s Sandra, Doug?” “I heard Sandra is improving. When will she be walking?” “You guys were sure lucky. What happened?”
When the hospital bills came, we filed a claim with my truck insurance and then I wrote a check for thirty-two thousand dollars. Twenty thousand dollars was the cash I’d inherited when Mom died. Twelve thousand was half of what I had saved. Mrs. Miller cried saying that I was terribly generous. I wasn’t generous at all, just indebted. It was settlement money, not generosity. I knew it wouldn’t even put a dent in her bills. I’m sure Sandra knew I was using the money to put her away of sorts. To be done with it all. To be done with her. I stopped bringing dinner but called Mrs. Miller on the phone every few days. Sandra started walking with a walker on January 30 and was teaching biology at Obion County High on Feb. 7. According to the local news hounds at the barber shop, Sandra and the new football coach were hand-in-hand at the church Valentine banquet. Aunt Charlotte said, “They make a lovely couple even though she still has a horrible limp and he’s from Michigan.” February was one of my best months at work. I already put eighteen hundred dollars in savings. Time for spring.
March 14 8:00 pm
Phone rings.
“Hello.”
“Doug, how’s it goin’ old man?”
“Good, Dave. Real good.”
“Is that right? What’s goin’ so good?”
“Well, I finally got the garage door fixed. I painted the fence by the driveway, put twenty head of cattle in the back field, work is pickin’ up, and it’ll be spring soon. No complaints here. How are you and Shannon doin’?”
“We’re great. I mean, no cattle or garage door news…nothin’ exciting like that, but hey, we’re makin’ it. Gettin’ ready to make a little road trip up to Nashville this weekend.”
“Sounds like fun. What’s the occasion?”
“A book signing.”
“I guess Shannon talked you into that one, huh?”
“Look, Buddy. I’ll cut to the chase. Shannon asked me to call you. I don’t know if you’ve been keepin’ up with Carlie and the book thing but it’s goin’ well, I mean, sellin’ like hot cakes. Been on all the talk shows and everything. They say she’ll have another book out within six months.”
“Good. I’m happy for her.”
“She’s gonna be at a book signing in Nashville on Saturday afternoon. And well, Shannon thinks you should go.”
“Shannon thinks I should drive to Nashville, stand in line with a bunch of single women, to get the autograph of the woman who wrecked my life? Tempting…but no thanks.”
“Wrecked your life? How’d she wreck your life, Doug? Sounds like you’ve done a pretty good job of wrecking your own life without any help from Carlie Ann Davidson.”
“I’m hanging up, Dave. Thanks for callin’.”
“Wait, wait. I’m sorry, Doug. Really, I was out of line and I’m sorry. I admit it. You haven’t wrecked your life. Not even close. But you haven’t taken chances either. You haven’t moved forward and I think you know that. Yeah, I’m happy for you on paintin’ the fence and havin’ some cattle now. I am. But there’s more to life than order, Doug.”
“I know that. You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t go to bed every night wishin’ things were different? You think I don’t ask God every day to make things different? Dave, if you called to tell me that I’m lonely, believe me, I know. I’ve known for a long time.”
“Then quit bein’ stubborn, Doug. Look, we all know you haven’t gotten over her. You’re not gonna get over her. It’s impossible. It’s one of those great mysteries of life. I remember it myself. You may not know this but Shannon broke up with me about a month before I was gonna ask her to marry me. She wasn’t sure about our relationship, said she needed some space, the whole Dr. Phil scenario. That lasted almost a month and it was the longest month of my life. I lost ten pounds because I was physically sick almost every day. My friends said I would meet someone else, that I should move on with my life, but I knew they were all crazy. They didn’t have a clue. They didn’t understand that I didn’t want anyone else. That I could never want anyone else. I get it, Doug. I do. So quit with the pride and stubborn routine and just go to Nashville and be done with it. If she rejects you flat out you will have at least tried. But the way it is now, well, you’re just going through the motions of living.”
“Was Shannon writin’ on cue cards for you during that whole speech?”
“No. She was using a variety of hand motions. Did it work?”
“I don’t know. Let me think about it. So when Shannon broke up with you, how’d you get her back?”
“I brought flowers to her apartment one day and told her that she should do what she thought was right, that I was willing to never see her again, that I had put my faith in God and I would live with her decision no matter how painful, that I wasn’t going to stalk her or beg.”
“Wow, I never knew you were so mature.”
“Well, I didn’t tell you what was on the card.”
“I’m waiting.”
“It said, ‘I love you more than any man has ever loved a woman.’”
“And that was it? I mean, she actually fell for that? She threw her arms around you and agreed to marry you on the spot?”
“No. She said she cried for two days and ate ice cream. But yeah…three days later she called and told me she loved me too. It was the happiest day of my life.”
“That sounds like a chick flick on the Hallmark Channel.”
“So be it.”
“Put Shannon on the phone.”
“Doug, don’t be mad at me. You know Dave and I love you and that’s why we called.”
“Dave called because he loves you, Shannon. His love for you made him call.”
“Okay. Point made. Love is a wonderful thing. It makes men do things they wouldn’t normally do. So go to Barnes and Noble on Saturday and be done with this. Meet us for lunch at Olive Garden.”
“I’ll get back with ya.”
“And Doug, shave the beard before you go see her.”
“Wait, how did you know I had a beard? You haven’t even seen me.”
“Like Aunt Charlotte doesn’t have a ph
one. I love you, Doug Jameson. I’m not givin’ up on this.”
“I know. Love you too, Bye.”
“Bye.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Winter Showers Bring Spring Flowers…Or Somethin’ Like That
CARLIE
March 14
Another gray day in New York City. Does the sun not shine here? Or is it just so hard to see through all the shadows of gray buildings? A mystery. Tired of going through endless e-mails.
Ring.
“Hello.”
“Carlie, everything is set for Thursday.”
“Great. So, what’s the plan?”
“You’ll leave JFK at 8:37 and arrive in Birmingham at 11:49. Signing is from 5:00-7:00 Thursday night and then to Huntsville for Friday evening. You’ll leave for Nashville Saturday morning. That’s scheduled for 2:00-5:00. Your flight from Nashville to Atlanta leaves early Sunday morning. Wanda will go with you and keep everything running smoothly. Let me know if you have any problems.”
“Thanks, Joan. Really. Thanks for everything.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s my job. Besides, these personal events are a big part of the book business. Women love you, Carlie. You’re the girl next door.”
“If the girl next door craves blueberry Pop-Tarts, then yeah, that’s me. Truthfully, I used to be the girl next door. Now I live in a big city and I don’t know anymore. The crowds and the noise are causing me to lose some of my small town charm.”
“I doubt that.”
“Joan, can I ask you a personal question?”
“Shoot.”
“Are you happy with your life? The fast pace, the crowds, the commute, the crazy busy world of publishing. Are you happy with all that?”
“If you mean am I happy every moment of every day? No, of course not. But yeah, I like what I do. And the New York thing…well, I’ve lived here all my life, Carlie. I can’t imagine a slow-paced small town way of livin’. It would get boring after a while.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard other people say that. But it’s not boring. Not to me. I like sittin’ around a coffee shop and not feelin’ like someone is waiting to get my seat. I like grass and open space and people who are never in a hurry. I like seein’ my old eighth grade teacher at the grocery store and watchin’ dogs run through town never worrying if they’ll find their way back home ‘cause they will. They just know how to do that…find their way home.”
