by Lisa Smartt
“Carlie, are you homesick for Commerce?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m lonely. I mean, I’m always in a crowd but I’m never really with someone.”
“You need a date, Girl.”
“Got any suggestions?”
“Well, since you made that big virginity revelation on The David Letterman Show, I don’t know if that would make it easier or harder for you to find a date in the city. I still can’t get over it. I mean, Carlie, you never… not even once? I don’t understand it. Maybe that’s how things go in small town Georgia. But around here, well, that’s pretty rare.”
“I guess. But it’s not a small town southern thing, Joan. The whole virginity thing…it’s not without a purpose. I mean, it’s not just that I’m a prude or somethin’ or I’m afraid of men. I’m not afraid of men. You know that, right?”
“I know. It’s all tied up in the Jesus thing. Good luck with that, Carlie. But Jesus never kept a girl warm at night. Not that I know of.”
“I’m not lookin’ for someone to keep me warm tonight, Joan. I was thinkin’ more in terms of someone to wake up with every morning for the rest of my life.”
“Touché. Note to self: Never get in a battle of words with a Jesus lovin’ articulate writer…She’ll win every time.”
“Ha Ha. I love you, Joan. I mean, in a clearly platonic way…I love you.”
“I know you do. Have a good trip, Carlie.”
“Will do. Bye.”
“Bye.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Turning A Corner
DOUG
March 18 5:45
Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Bart’s house
“Doug Jameson, get in this house! You’re just in time. The macaroni and squash casserole just went in the oven and I made sun tea this afternoon, which was no easy job on such a cloudy day as this one’s been. Have a seat and we’ll have a little talk before supper. Bart, come get this gall darn coon out of the living room!”
“Thanks, Aunt Charlotte. You don’t have to invite me for supper. Sorry for just droppin’ by like this.”
“Lawsy, no, child! Don’t you ever apologize for comin’ by this house! Yur family, Doug. Close family.”
“Truth is, I’m sort of confused right now. Not sure what to do. I never really got over Carlie, y’know. I tried but I couldn’t seem to do it. I know everyone wanted me to get with Sandra but it wasn’t gonna happen.”
“Honey, we all know that.”
Uncle Bart used a dried-up piece of leftover toast to lure the coon onto the back porch. Wearing overalls and a John Deere cap, he slammed the screen door and then sat down in the powder blue recliner which was broken and leaned to the left. “Hell, Doug, all of us knew you was crazy about that big friendly Georgia girl. It was the way you looked at ‘er, the way she looked at you. So why ain’t you two married and makin’ babies by now?”
“Yeah, well, that’s a little complicated. She’s famous now, Uncle Bart. I mean, she’s been on TV and everything. She’s a writer and she lives in New York City.”
“We know that. You think we’re not cultured? We’ve seen ‘er on the mornin’ shows, Doug. Read about her in the papers. Yer sayin’ you have to marry a non-famous woman, that you’re too good to marry a famous one? Gosh, what’s wrong with people yer age? Hell, who cares if she’s famous or she works at the dollar store? Do you love her?”
“I do.”
“Then tell her.”
Aunt Charlotte chimed in from the kitchen as she poured sweet tea in three plastic Dollywood cups, “It’s not that easy, Bart.”
“It ain’t? Well, thank God no one told me that, Charlotte. I knew I loved ya so I bought ya a hamburger when you was workin’ at the Dime Store downtown. You ‘member that?”
“Like it was yesterday.”
“Doug, we got married three months later. We ain’t been too miserable, have we, Charlotte?”
“We’ve been happy, Bart. And I thank ya for givin’ me forty-three good years, real good years.”
“Shannon and Dave told me that Carlie’s gonna be in Nashville tomorrow. A big book signing event at a bookstore there.”
Aunt Charlotte put four pieces of Wonder bread on a small paper plate and placed a tub of Parkay on the kitchen table. “And you’re goin’?”
“I can’t decide.”
Uncle Bart scowled as he carefully rose from the broken recliner, “We may not be highly educated folks, but this don’t take a rocket scientist, Doug. If you love that girl, go after ‘er and that’s all I’m a gonna say on this matter. Charlotte, you wanna jar of dill pickles from the shed?”
“That’d be good, Bart. Get a jar of pickled beets too.”
And that was the end of that subject. We sat on the same yellow kitchen chairs they’d sat on for forty-three years. We ate macaroni and squash casserole and pickled beets. We talked of the weather. Unseasonably cold. Aunt Charlotte informed us that the football coach from Michigan was divorced but that his first wife was certifiably crazy and they had no children. And that Mrs. Miller said she liked him real well even though he wasn’t a Methodist. He was Lutheran and that would have to do. Michelle managed to find homes for all seven of the Labradoodle puppies. The three of us deemed it an out-and-out miracle from the hand of God. Chester’s cataract surgery was now scheduled for Tuesday morning so he brought his last will and testament to the barber shop and asked them all to witness his signature. Aunt Charlotte’s only comment, “Lord, if that cataract surgery goes south, I pray we don’t inherit the noisy parakeet. That’s jest what we need ‘round here.”
March 18 10:30 pm
“Hello.”
“Shannon, this is Doug. I’m sorry for callin’ so late. I’ll see you and Dave tomorrow.”
“Hallelujah! Our prayers were answered.”
“Maybe. But what if I told you that God used Uncle Bart to answer your prayers and not Dave’s smooth-sounding speech the other day?”
“I’d say, ‘God works in mysterious ways.’ And I’ve learned not to question his methods.”
“When do you wanna meet at Olive Garden?”
“Be there at noon and that’ll give us plenty of time to get to Barnes and Noble by 2:00.”
“I’ll be there. And yes, I shaved my beard…and I’ll brush my teeth, and take a shower, and make my bed. Anything else?”
“Go ahead and make fun. You’ll thank me one day.”
“See you tomorrow. Bye.”
“Bye.”
March 19 2:08 pm
Already a line out the door at Barnes and Noble
Dave tried to be light hearted. “Doug’s in love with a rock star, Shannon.”
I could hardly hear the conversation between the two of them over the pounding conversation in my own head. Carlie was just on the other side of that door. It had been almost three months since the last time I’d seen her in person. Did she still think about me? Or had she moved on? I stopped to re-tie my shoes. Dave accused me of stalling. There were mostly women in the line though there were a few men who looked uncomfortable.
Dave was clearly not uncomfortable as he visited with the folks in front of us. “This Carlie Davidson, she’s kind of an overnight sensation, isn’t she?”
A young college girl laughed, “She’s hilarious! And yeah, she makes some good points too.”
“Well, this good lookin’ guy right here, he actually went out with her…several times. They were close.”
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. You can ask him about it.”
A young dark-haired college girl wearing a sorority sweat shirt acted as though she had struck gold. “Did you actually date her? The author?”
I couldn’t believe Dave started this and I was determined to end it quickly. “No. Not the author. When I dated her, she was just a college student working at the dollar store.”
“But it was her, Carlie Ann Davidson? That’s who you were goin’ out with?”
“Yeah. For a while.”
&nbs
p; I was thrilled when the store personnel opened the door and a balding older guy announced that they were going to move us all inside so that Ms. Davidson could share a few words before she signed the books.
We filed in like cattle. Standing room only. I tried to act like none of this mattered to me one way or the other. If Uncle Bart were here, he would just walk right up to the front and hand her a hamburger and that would be the end of it. For the first time in my life I wished I were like Uncle Bart.
A tall man in his mid-thirties and dressed in a black suit spoke into a hand held mic, “It’s our pleasure today to introduce a young woman who has taken the literary world by storm. Her book, ‘A Single Woman’s Guide to Ordinary,’ has delivered her down-home southern humor into mainstream America and mainstream America has welcomed it. We’re honored she’s here with us in Nashville. She’s been on the Today Show, the David Letterman Show, and many other national television and radio shows. Let’s give a big Nashville welcome to Carlie Ann Davidson!”
The crowd clapped and cheered and the man happily hugged Carlie as though he were an old friend…or not. She had cut her hair shorter but was as beautiful as ever. Black pants. Blue jacket. She still looked like Carlie, the old Carlie. The Carlie who smelled like vanilla and loved biscuits and gravy.
“Wow! I mean, Wow! You guys are great. Thanks for comin’ out today. Thank you! And thanks for that introduction, Philip. Philip Glenn is a literary critic who lives here in Nashville and I’m blessed to call him a friend. Thank you, Philip.” She looked back and smiled at him in that kind way that she smiles. My stomach was churning. I wanted to punch Philip Glenn in the stomach. I hated him and Matt Lauer…and everyone else who thought she was wonderful. Where were they six months ago? I remembered when I was the only man who knew how wonderful she was. Well, me and Chester.
“I don’t know what to say. It’s been a crazy three months. First of all, to answer the most frequently asked question, yes, I’m still single. Not necessarily lovin’ that, but it is what it is. I’m proud to be from Commerce, Georgia, and I still love lemon meringue pie and barbecue and biscuits and gravy. Truthfully, I need to love gravy a little less. I dread tryin’ on clothes and I’m workin’ on workin’ on a plan to start workin’ on a schedule for workin’ out.”
The crowd laughed. They loved her, imperfections and all. Maybe that’s why they loved her. She wasn’t afraid to say what everyone else was thinkin’.
“I thank you for wantin’ to buy the book today. Thank you for that. I can’t wait to meet you! All of you.”
And with that, Philip escorted her to the table and we all fell back into line. My courage was waning. Uncle Bart was wrong. It did matter that she was famous. It mattered to me…and to Philip Glenn and Dave Letterman and all the people she called friends now. I didn’t want to eat Thanksgiving dinner with Matt Lauer in New York City. I wanted to eat dry turkey in Sharon, Tennessee, with Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Bart and a stray coon even. Dave and Shannon were enthusiastic as they visited with the group of college girls in front of them.
I whispered in Shannon’s ear, “This was a mistake. I have to go.” I walked to the door and never looked back. I was still in a foggy haze as I pulled into Sharon almost three hours later. I stopped at the BP station to fill up with gas and Brother Dan said I looked tired and had I been ill. I’d had all that time to think about why I ran. And I came to a conclusion. I didn’t want to see her look at me like that, like, “Poor Doug. Still bankin’ in Sharon. Still eatin’ with his crazy relatives while I’m bein’ wined and dined in New York City. There he is, penniless after he nearly killed his former girlfriend. And to think…I almost fell in love with that guy.” Yeah. I just couldn’t take that look.
March 19 7:30 pm
While checking e-mail, my heart skipped a beat. Carlie A. Davidson. It had been almost three months since I’d seen her name come up on the screen.
Dear Doug,
I was hoping you’d come today. Praying you’d come. I knew it was a long shot. But when I saw you in the back of the room, well, that’s why my speech was so short and confusing. I was nervous and excited and self-conscious all at the same time. I’m glad you weren’t injured badly in the wreck. You look great. I was disappointed you weren’t able to stay. I leave for Atlantain the morning. It’ll be good to get down close to home. I’m not a very good New Yorker, Doug. I miss the gravy.J I hope you are well and taking time to enjoy the view from the front porch. That’s still one of the most beautiful scenes in all of my memory. You’re blessed to live there in peace and quiet. Can you believe I haven’t seen one deer in New York City? And people say this is the exciting life. Yeah, I’ll never understand that. Tell all your wonderful family members “Hello” from me. Tell Aunt Charlotte I haven’t forgotten about the deviled eggs…or her kindness. That I will never forget.
Love,
Carlie
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: God Watches Over Fools And Insecure Women
CARLIE
March 20 Book Store in Atlanta
A tiny part of me is glad that Mom and Dad are in Hawaii for Spring Break. I can just see or rather hear Mom at the book signing. “The sound system is weak.” “This lighting is poor.” “That outfit makes you look old, Carlie.” It was a relief to not have to entertain her and her general lack of satisfaction with life.
“Carlie, I think this is the biggest crowd we’ve had yet.”
“Yeah, I guess it’s like sports and this is kind of a home game, home territory.”
Sally Vanderbilt, the bookstore owner, was a stylish gray-haired woman about 5 ft. tall and wearing a bright pink suit. “Everyone, may I please have your attention? Excuse me. It’s time for us to get started. It’s a joy to have one of Georgia’s very own success stories with us today. Carlie Ann Davidson grew up in Commerce, graduated from the University of Georgia, and is now back home to share her book ‘The Single Woman’s Guide to Ordinary’ with all of us. You know her. You love her. Carlie Ann Davidson!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Vanderbilt. Really. I can’t tell you how happy I am to be back home in the great State of Georgia!!!”
The crowd burst into applause.
“I’m here to talk about the book and about being single and finding a way to have a sense of humor about it. Yes. But I also want to make an announcement. This week I turned in my notice with Today’s Woman magazine and I plan to move back to Commerce, Georgia!”
More applause.
“New York City just wasn’t the place for me. It’s a wonderful place. But truth is, I’m a southern girl. I’ll continue to write from my heart. And I don’t wanna forget my small town roots. Who knows? I might even write a book about marriage someday. But sadly, not any time soon.”
Applause and laughter.
“Most of you know I worked at the Dollar General Store in Commerce, Georgia, for ten years and I’m proud of that. I worked with good people. When I worked at the dollar store, my job was to be helpful and friendly, to care about the people who came in. That’s still my job. It’ll be my job ten years from now. God gave me that job, not a book publishing company. So I want you to know that I’m gonna love you today and treat you the same way I would treat you if I worked at the dollar store and you needed help finding Liquid Plum’r. And yes, I still remember that it’s on Aisle 9.”
Cheers, laughter and applause.
“I’m more than willing to take a few questions before we start signing books. Would anyone like to ask a question? The microphones are set up near the front. Yes, yes ma’am. You’re the first. Go ahead when you’re ready.”
“Your humor is wonderful. But you talk a lot about love in the book and some of those comments are pretty serious. Your perception of real love and commitment. You’re thirty-two and you’re still single. Do you still believe there are men out there who would want to marry you having never slept with you? I mean, is that even realistic?”
“Good question. Thanks for bringing that up. If you’re asking if I think it
’s common for a man to want to wait. No. It’s not common. If you’re asking if I still believe there are men out there who believe sex is for marriage and are willing to wait. Yes. I do. In fact, I know for sure there are. Thanks again. Okay, yes. Right here in the red dress.”
“Carlie, you talk a lot about weaknesses. Your love for food. Your lack of organization. Your foot-in-mouth disease.” Laughter everywhere in the room. “I want to ask about your strengths. What do you consider your strengths?”
“You guys are deep. Okay. Truthfully, my strength is that I’m not afraid to share weakness. I mean, is that a strength? I’m not afraid of the truth. I know God’s love and forgiveness. So I’m pretty open. I also hate to spend money. So maybe some people would consider that a strength. I’m not very materialistic. But I always believe that women should buy books. Never stop buying books, people! Yes. Right here in the yellow.”
“Are you dating someone right now?”
“Wow! You don’t beat around the bush. Are you asking if there are men who love tall fat women? I mean, is that your real question?” Laughter erupts throughout the store.
“No. We think you’re beautiful, Carlie. I’m asking if there’s a special man in your life?”
“Sadly, no. But if you have a brother or somethin’, grab my card and give him my number. Thank you very much! You’re a great group! Thank you!”
I stood at the front and hugged hundreds of women and a few men and signed hundreds of books. It was tiring but more than wonderful. I loved hearing their personal stories and knowing that somehow God used my own story to resonate with theirs.
Wanda brought me back to reality. “Carlie, we’re nearing the end of the line. I’ll talk to Sally and then get your stuff together. She’ll want to speak with you before you go.”
“Thank you. That’s fine.”
