by Ginny Aiken
“Are you hungry?” he asked as he parked his car near the community hall and snack bars.
“Not really.”
“Good, then we’ll leave the picnic supplies here, and I challenge you to a round of putt-putt.”
“Oh, I’m not very good.”
“You’re in luck; I’m pathetic,” he said, leaving the car. He opened her door and helped her out. “Thankfully I have a great drive and can hold my own on a regular course.”
Debbie struggled to keep up with his long strides as he led them across the park to the ticket booth. He secured two clubs, balls, and a score pad for them and insisted that Debbie be the first to putt.
They relaxed and kept their conversation focused on the game. Debbie managed to do quite well, keeping her score just below his. Then they came to the loop. Golfers were expected to putt their balls onto a metal track with enough force to send the ball around the loop and out the opposite side. Debbie’s first try came right back to her at the starting point. So did her second and third tries.
Scott rooted her on. “Put more force into it.”
Debbie whacked the ball with double the energy. The ball winged to the top of the looped track then popped out and disappeared into the bushes at the left side of the green.
Debbie groaned while Scott laughed. He got down on his knees and felt under the scrubby little bushes for her ball. “It went in here, didn’t it?”
“I think so.”
Scott stood and looked all around the bushes. A line of golfers was forming behind Debbie. Scott gave up. “Here, use mine.” He placed a neon green ball in her palm.
This time Debbie’s shot was perfect. The ball made the loop and stopped within a foot of the cup. She had an easy, one-stroke putt from there. Handing the ball back to Scott she said, “The ball made all the difference.”
But the golf ball didn’t have the same effect for Scott. His first attempt missed the track, his second was too weak and rolled back, then his third shot was strong and zipped through the loop. It sailed over the hole, smacked into the wooded edging, bounced back, and dropped into the cup.
“Wow! Did you see that?” Scott leaped over to Debbie and hugged her in his excitement.
Debbie’s breathing was choked by his overwhelming closeness. He held her a moment longer than necessary, then pulled back in slow motion, his gaze locking on her eyes. She felt suddenly shy as she recognized a tender warmth in his eyes. She dropped her lashes.
“Clear the course,” yelled a teen with a bad attitude.
Scott retrieved his ball and led Debbie up the path. Debbie finished the eighteenth hole with her only hole-in-one, giving her a score that was just three under Scott’s. He pouted playfully as they turned in their equipment.
“Okay, now what can I beat you at?” he said while surveying the area. The park was beginning to fill up with families. Young children loved the small Ferris wheel, the swings, a mini train, and, of course, the carousel. “How about the batting cages?”
Debbie moaned, “Do I have to?”
“No,” Scott smiled. “I’ll call a truce if you promise to ride the carousel after our picnic.”
Debbie brightened. “I haven’t done that kind of thing in years. I’d love to.”
Scott grasped Debbie’s hand where it hung at her side and pulled her back toward the car. They unloaded their picnic paraphernalia and took it to the edge of the pond. Scott picked out a spot that hadn’t been littered by the resident ducks and spread out an old quilt. It was worn and frayed, but the double wedding ring pattern was clearly visible in a variety of colors.
“Is this something your grandmother made?” she asked as Scott set out plates and plastic food containers.
“I really don’t remember. My only recollection of the quilt is that my grandparents carried it around in their car during winter in case they ever got snowbound.”
“Well, it is charming.”
“Yes.” Scott was looking at her again, and Debbie felt a warmth not attributed to the setting sun spread through her limbs. “Do you mind …” he hesitated, “if I tell you that for weeks I have found you to be quite charming?”
Debbie felt like a corralled group of wild horses had just been released in her stomach.
“I don’t want to play games with you, Debbie, but neither do I want to scare you,” he said as he reached out to smooth a strand of curls behind her ear. His hand stroked her cheek. “I want you to know that I want to be your friend and to know you much better.”
The adoring look in his eyes chased away her fears and defenses. Grandma had read him right, and Debbie knew she trusted his words. Her face spread with a serene smile. She was deliriously happy.
Silently, Scott drew her face toward his own. Across the quilt pattern that represented the bonding of two souls, he kissed her tenderly once, then twice.
For the first time, Scott and Debbie really talked. They discussed family and friends. They exchanged ideas about their mutual faith and goals for the future. Debbie even had a confession to make. Scott was being so open with her that she decided that she needed to get past the roadblock that had been discouraging her from a relationship with him.
“Scott, can I tell you something?” Debbie timidly asked. “You may find it rather silly.”
“You can tell me anything.” His gaze was tender, and he adjusted his position on the quilt so that he was just a bit closer to her.
“You may not remember that I was around my grandparents’ house thirteen years ago when you spent the whole summer with your grandparents, but I was and I remember a lot about you.” Debbie shifted nervously, playing with the patches on the quilt. “I had quite a crush on you. You were the focus of my entire summer, and I longed for your attention.”
“Ah, I’m sorry, Debbie. I do remember fixing your bike, though. It was an ancient thing.”
“My grandmother’s.”
“But you really were better off not to have me chasing you in return. I was pretty self-absorbed back then, and I wouldn’t have appreciated how special you are.”
Debbie laughed in spite of herself. “When we met a few weeks ago, I was still so embarrassed by my behavior as a teen. I couldn’t believe you didn’t remember that. I was sure that my ridiculous plays for your attention would have had a lasting impression.”
Scott reached out to cup her chin. “Maybe it is better that I don’t remember, because it doesn’t really matter about the teen you were. I want to get to know who you are now.” His hand traced the features of her face, recording each detail. Debbie leaned into his caresses.
The shadows of approaching night were deep before they packed up the remains of submarine sandwiches, macaroni salad, potato chips, and brownies. Scott had confessed to buying most of it at a deli, but he had assembled the sandwiches and baked the brownies from a boxed mix.
They set their sights on the carousel now, and once again, Scott claimed her hand in his warm clasp. There was a long line of parents and children waiting for the spinning carousel to stop and let them on. Debbie pointed out the gray and red horse she wanted to ride.
When the carousel was ready for a new load, Scott was quick to secure Debbie’s horse. He helped her step up and swing her long leg over the little horse. Then Scott climbed on the white horse beside hers. Debbie smiled at his proud posture on the white steed, but didn’t voice her thoughts about a knight riding a white stallion. It was a silly thought. Mythical knights didn’t exist, but a few lovable, God-fearing men still did. Scott was among that kind, and as long as he kept his focus on Christ, she knew she could be secure in her love for him.
The carousel slowly began to spin. Scott chuckled and hummed an old cowboy tune.
Debbie studied him with an endearing smile. Love? Did she really feel that strong emotion? There was no physical fire about to consume her but a warm glow that assured her what they had started today was the development of a lasting bond, a comfortable companionship, and, yes, a mature love.
Deb
bie leaned her head back as the carousel turned faster and faster. This childish entertainment was liberating. Scott held his palm out to her and she placed her hand in his. It was a natural fit.
They rode the carousel twice, then conceded that it was time to go home.
The house was dark and quiet as Debbie preceded Scott into her kitchen. Debbie called for her grandmother. When there was no answer, Debbie said, “She must be getting ready for bed; it is getting late.”
“Why don’t you check your messages while I put on some coffee?” Scott said, indicating the blinking red light on the answering machine. “There are still some brownies left.” He moved comfortably around the kitchen, finding what he needed.
“Where are your coffee filters?” Scott asked, and Debbie showed him while she waited on the tape to rewind.
Then a professional sounding voice spoke clearly through the machine. “This message is for Debra Julian. Please call this number at Union Hospital concerning your grandmother.”
Debbie thought her heart would stop and she reached for Scott. He folded his arms around her quaking shoulders. “It will be all right. Call them back and get an explanation.”
“I assumed she was here.” Debbie moved to check Grandma’s bedroom just to be sure. Then she made the dreaded call. She clutched Scott’s hand as she listened intently.
“The nurse who made the call is no longer on duty,” Debbie reported to Scott, “but this nurse said Gran is there and stabilized. She has been admitted for at least overnight. The nurse couldn’t tell me what was wrong.”
Scott pointed to the answering machine. “There is another message that you didn’t listen to.”
Debbie pressed the play button. “Hi, Debbie, this is Myrna Yoder. I’m at the hospital. Maxine is having stomach trouble and it sounds like food poisoning. Now, the girls and I ate from the same Chinese buffet, and so far we are fine. Well, anyway, you’ll want to get down here and bring Maxine some toiletries for an overnight stay. See you soon.”
Debbie breathed a little easier as she rushed to collect the things Grandma would be needing. Scott drove Debbie to the hospital without her having to ask him. She wanted him near while she faced the unknown. She prayed the whole way on the short drive. This was much too early to lose the vibrant matriarch.
Grandma had already been placed in a room. Debbie flew down the hall to find her dozing in a hospital bed. The other bed in the sterile room was empty.
“Gran,” Debbie spoke quietly and felt Scott come to her side, placing his hand on her shoulder. “What happened, Gran?”
“Dandy?” Maxine Julian opened her eyes that were dulled with pain and medication. “Ah, and Scotty, too.” She smiled.
“What has the doctor said?” Scott probed.
“Bad food.” Grandma grimaced. “Probably the shrimp, since I’m the only one who likes it.”
Scott pulled up a chair for Debbie and she sank gratefully into it.
It was a long wait until the doctor made his last round of the night and assured them that Grandma could easily be released by seven the next morning. Grandma appeared to nod off after midnight while Scott and Debbie talked quietly.
“So, you’ve heard about my exciting evening; are you going to tell me how your evening was?” Grandma suddenly spoke with her eyes still shut.
“Uh …” Debbie didn’t know how to tell Grandma that she was right about Scott’s regard for her.
“I think your Dandy likes me,” Scott answered.
Grandma chuckled. “And you like her. I know.”
“So, I would have permission to uh … say, court your granddaughter?” Scott asked.
“Wouldn’t think of stopping you,” Grandma said in a tired voice.
Debbie leaned over and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. She and Scott watched in silence as Grandma drifted into a relaxed sleep. Then in the glow of a small lamp in the stark hospital room, Scott leaned down to whisper in Debbie’s ear.
“I think I love you.”
Debbie gasped. “I think I love you, too!”
“Praise God,” Scott whispered.
Epilogue
Debbie filled a bucket with what would be the last of the summer’s tomatoes. The early September sun was not as direct as August’s had been, and the garden’s remaining plants were withering in the chilled nights.
It had been a wonderful summer. Debbie had enjoyed having long days to work alongside Grandma and long evenings to spend with Scott. Grandma had seen to it that he had eaten dinner with them almost every night, even though Debbie teased that he was being spoiled. The garden had flourished under the joint efforts of Scott and Debbie, and they had had plenty to share with Debbie’s parents, who came home for several weeks before loading their motor home and setting off toward Maine for a fall foliage trip.
Debbie and her grandmother had started attending Scott’s church, and already they both had found places to become involved. Debbie enjoyed the singles’ group and had made new friends. She survived an energized week of vacation Bible school and even signed up to assist with the children’s puppetry program.
Things were falling into place in her life, and one of the most important of those things was walking across the yard toward her at that moment.
“Did you leave school early?” Scott asked as he leaned down to gather some small red tomatoes.
“No, you must have had long office hours today.”
“It has been a long week,” he admitted. “You and Maxie going to can these?”
“Certainly! Gran makes wonderful soups from her tomato juice.”
They filled Debbie’s bucket and still had tomatoes to pile in the grass.
“Can we plan a date for tomorrow evening?” Scott said.
“I can’t. Tomorrow is the women’s retreat up in Canton, and it won’t be over until late.”
“Oh.” He sounded truly disappointed as he cleaned a bush of all its tomatoes. “I’ll be right back.” Scott scrambled up from a hunched position and hurried through his back door.
Debbie was ready to haul tomatoes to the house when he returned. Scott reached awkwardly for her hand, and she failed to see that he had something serious on his mind. She joked with him. “Do you want to help me get the dirt out from under my nails?”
Scott gave her an exasperated, lopsided grin. Then taking a deep breath, he spoke. “I had more romantic places in mind, but I started thinking that since this garden is where we met and how our relationship got started, I should do this here.”
Debbie frowned at him. “What are you talking about? Are you okay?” His fingers quivered around her left hand.
Scott made a frustrated shake of his head and plugged on. “I asked the Lord back in May—very soon after I met you—to show me if you could be the one I have been waiting for. It didn’t take long to feel that God had given me permission to love you.” Scott looked lovingly at Debbie’s confused expression. “In fact, I was almost giddy about it on the morning I asked you to Tuscora Park, because I already knew I loved you and couldn’t wait for you to know it, too.”
Debbie sighed. She was so blessed to have him care for her. His hair was tousled and she smoothed it with her free hand.
“Debbie?” His tone caused her to meet his gaze. “We have managed to become good friends by sharing this garden plot. Do you think we could consider sharing all of our future gardens?”
Her eyes widened. His words held deep meaning.
“Debbie … dear Dandy, would you marry me?” he asked. Slowly he pulled a golden ring from his pocket. The diamond stone was simple in cut but dazzling in beauty.
Once again he had made her speechless, but she didn’t need words. She smiled and leaned into him. Their lips met and she promised to love him through thick and thin for as long as God should grant them life.
Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.
GALATIANS 6:9
REBECCA GERMANY
R
ebecca Germany works full-time as a fiction editor and has written and compiled several novellas and gift books. She lives in Ohio, where she enjoys country life.
MIX AND MATCH
by Bev Huston
Chapter 1
It’s for your own good.”
Melissa stared blankly at her mother. This was not the first time, and probably wouldn’t be the last, that they would lock horns over an issue. “I’m not interested in dating. Every one of them has been a disaster.”
“Because you set out to make them that way.” Katherine Stoddard’s anger reflected in her hazel eyes and her flushed cheeks. “Please do this for Gram. It’s too late to back out now. She only wants to see you happy, darling.” Melissa could hear the concern in her mother’s voice.
“I’m happy the way I am. All those goofy guys wanted to change me.” Melissa got up from the kitchen stool. She’d never had much success with dating, and tonight wouldn’t be any different. It wasn’t for lack of trying, either. But it hurt too much when she wasn’t accepted for the way she was. “Honestly, Mom, I don’t want someone in my life whose mission is to transform and reform me.”
“Gram knows that. I’m sure this guy will be different. Now go put on a pretty dress and fix your hair.”
Melissa tossed the mail she’d been holding onto the kitchen counter and fought the urge to scream. “That’s what I’m saying. You know I don’t wear dresses. Why can’t I just be me?”
“Please. Gram doesn’t ask for much, now does she? She’s concerned since … since …”
“I know. And I’m doing okay.” Melissa bit her lip, not daring to look at her mother. She hated how she had to struggle to keep her emotions in check. Still. After all this time. “I’ll go get ready.” She turned and thumped down the hall to her bedroom, slamming the door for effect. Leaning against it, arms crossed, she tried to think this through. A long-suffering sigh escaped before she seated herself in front of the vanity mirror. She raked a brush forcefully through her curls as she stared at a photograph on her wall. Though she loved this final remembrance of her dad, she hated how it showed all of her flaws.
