by Gail Sattler
Carolyn tried not to stammer as she spoke. “That stuff is called toast points.”
“Yeah. That. So that means the white container has those round things in it, right?”
“Those round things are called pastry cheese balls.”
“Yeah, those, too. And where’s that list of more stuff you said I should buy? Did you add one of those pastry-mixing contraptions? And don’t you do that sighing thing again.”
Carolyn clamped her lips shut and yanked her hands back. Her breathing didn’t feel normal, and she didn’t like it. “The list is in the bag, and yes, I did. Now I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“First there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
She checked her watch. “It’s late. We can talk about it at class on Tuesday.”
“But—”
“I think that’s best. Let me see you to the door.”
She scooped up a bag, prompting him to do the same. She led him to the door, where she handed him the bag she had carried. “Good night, Mitchell.”
He shuffled everything into one hand, and instead of leaving, he slowly and gently brushed his fingers across her cheek. Carolyn closed her eyes. The moment was perfect for a good night kiss that part of her wanted and part of her didn’t.
“Good night, Carolyn.” He dropped his hand, picked up the bags of supplies he’d left next to the door, and walked out.
A small sigh escaped as Carolyn watched him go. It was nothing she could put her finger on, but something deep inside of her found Mitchell interesting. However, from their conversation during the food preparation today, she knew more about his family than she knew about him. Other than that his sister was getting married soon, the only thing she knew about him was his age and that he attended church services. In some ways, she would have liked the age spread to be the other way around, but no amount of wishing he were older could make it so. She wished she knew why he wanted to see her so badly—but then decided the answer was obvious.
She was the cooking teacher, and he needed to learn how to cook in a hurry. He was simply being nice to her because she was doing him a favor. In a convoluted sort of way, she found it disappointing but, considering all else, for the best.
She didn’t want to like him. Earlier, she thought he’d taken an interest in her favorite Bible verse, which she had on display on her living room wall. If she hadn’t been in his arms at the time, she would have liked to talk about it, just to see where he was spiritually. Even though it was a good start, just because he said he attended church on Sundays didn’t mean he was a committed Christian.
Not that it mattered. Except for class, she had no intention of seeing him again.
Carolyn shut the door, but instead of walking away, she pressed both palms into it, then leaned her forehead against the cool wood.
She prayed daily for God to send her a Mr. Right, a man who would be about five or six years older than her, educated, well into a successful career, and understand that her career as a teacher was important to her, too. Not that she was getting desperate, but soon she was going to be thirty-three years old, and she was more than ready to settle down. She wanted to fall in love with a man who would love and cherish her as much as she would him.
She needed a mature man who was a strong leader but was flexible and open to God’s direction. Carolyn knew she had a tendency to be a bit headstrong, so she needed a mate who wouldn’t stand back and let her make all the decisions or carry all the responsibility just because it was easier for him. But at the same time, she didn’t want a man with whom every decision would be a battle. She needed a man who was regal and reserved and with the strength of character to stand by her side and be her equal partner in all things.
She didn’t know much about Mitchell, but Mitchell was not that man. Even though she enjoyed her time with him, she doubted Mitchell could be serious about anything. There were more important things in life than simply having fun.
It didn’t matter, anyway. She wouldn’t see Mitchell until next class, on Tuesday, four days away, which was as it should be.
❧
Carolyn flicked off the vacuum cleaner switch and cocked her head to listen.
Sure enough, it was the doorbell she’d heard. Since she wasn’t expecting anyone, she had no idea who it could possibly be.
When she checked through the peephole, a gorgeous green eye stared back.
She ran her hands through her hair to straighten it, then opened the door.
“Hello, Mitchell. What are you doing here?”
He held a large, flat package. “I brought you something. Mind if I come in?” He grinned and stepped past her into the house without waiting for her reply.
Carolyn followed him to the couch and waited while he sat and tore away the white tissue paper surrounding whatever was in his hand. As soon as he made a large enough opening, he pulled out the newly framed needlepoint they’d tried to hang last night.
When she couldn’t find it, she had assumed Mitchell had put it someplace safe and it would turn up later. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d taken it home last night, along with everything else.
He held it up for her to see. A shiny new piece of glass protected her work.
Her hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh, Mitchell! You shouldn’t have!”
He grinned and, without comment, walked to the wall where the nail poked out, barely staying in place. “Where’s the hammer?”
Still trying to let what he’d done sink in, Carolyn ran to the kitchen and grabbed her hammer off the pantry shelf. She nearly dropped it when she turned around to see Mitchell standing in the doorway.
“You keep your hammer in the kitchen?”
“So? You keep your electric mixer in the garage.”
He laughed. “Touché.” He removed the hammer from her hands and returned to the living room, proceeded to bang in some kind of plastic doodad, then tapped the nail into the center of it without mishap. This time he’d left the frame on the floor, leaning against the wall. When the nail was securely in place, he balanced and leveled the picture, then stood beside her to admire it. “That sure is a pretty scene. I think I’ve been there. It’s around Tofino, right? Did you do it yourself?”
“Yes, I did.”
The project had taken her nearly a year to complete. She’d had a favorite photograph from her last vacation made into a needlepoint pattern, which she’d worked on diligently. That day had been the first and only time she’d seen a whale in the wild, and she’d managed to get a picture of it at just the right moment. The whale had jumped out of the water and made a big splash upon reentry against the scenic backdrop of a gorgeous bay lined with rocks and trees and seagulls in the misty blue sky overhead. The photograph was beautiful, but adding the texture of needlepoint made it a treasure. Someday, when she married and had children, she would eventually pass her cherished masterpiece on as a family heirloom.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Mitchell shrugged his shoulders. “It wasn’t a big deal. Jake works for a place that makes windows, so I got him to make a piece that fit. He ended up using a piece out of the scrap bin, so all it cost me was a donut.” He paused and grinned. “Of course I made him buy the coffee.”
“You made him. . .” Her voice trailed off. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“It was his break.”
She opened her mouth, but Mitchell quickly spoke up. “None of that sighing stuff. Just smile pretty and say, ‘Thanks, Mitchell.’ ”
Carolyn pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her finger. He would never know the restraint it took not to make that deep sigh.
Actually, she rather admired him for being so resourceful, but she wasn’t going to admit it.
“Thank you, Mitchell.”
He smirked. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“I wasn’t expecting you today, as you can tell.” Carolyn jerked her head over her shoulder to indicate her vacuum cleaner in the
middle of the living room, in addition to the dust rag still on the mantel. “I suppose I could think of something we could do as a cooking lesson.”
“I’m not here for a cooking lesson.”
Carolyn was touched that he would have made the special trip just to deliver her repaired needlepoint frame. In order to be polite, as well as to show her gratitude, she was about to ask him if she could make him a cup of coffee when he reached toward her, picked up one of her hands, then started massaging her wrist with his thumb in the same way he had last night before he left.
Her knees turned to jelly.
“I’m here to take you out for dinner.”
“But—”
“And if you say one word about paying, you’ll hurt my feelings, and you wouldn’t want to do that, would you?”
“Well, I—”
“So lock up and let’s get going so we can get a cozy table for two in a nice, dark corner.”
“But I—”
“There are a few things I’d like to talk to you about, and none of it will have anything to do with cooking because, Carolyn, this is a date.”
Before she could open her mouth to protest, he raised her hand, lowered his head, and kissed her palm. No man had ever done that before, and she froze at the soft touch of his lips on her skin. Carolyn stood with her mouth hanging open and her heart pounding as he smiled at her. She still couldn’t imagine why Mitchell was doing this, but this opened up an opportunity to learn more about him—if she could get her brain to function properly.
Carolyn yanked her hand away and backed up a step. She ran her trembling fingers through her hair and straightened her glasses. “Excuse me. I have to change my T-shirt. I’ll be right back.”
Carolyn hustled to her bedroom and selected a baggy sweater to go with her jeans, quickly ran a brush through her hair, and returned to the living room, where Mitchell stood gazing at her needlepoint.
When the time came to eat, she would insist on pausing to say grace over their meal. That would tell her how willing he was to show he was a Christian in public.
Still, no matter where he stood in his Christianity, the bottom line was that he wasn’t the type of man she saw as a suitable mate. Even though she and Hank didn’t have what she could even remotely call a steady relationship, he appeared to be all the things she was looking for in a man. All the things Mitchell was not.
But if she had to have a reason for being with him, she knew Mitchell would make her laugh.
Carolyn sucked in a deep breath for strength. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Four
Carolyn found herself sitting much too close to Mitchell, which was exactly what she wanted to avoid. She had nixed his suggestion of a quiet, cozy table for two at a small, intimate restaurant. Instead, they’d left his car at the Park and Ride and took the monorail to the crowded and busy public market.
Because of the Saturday crowd, the last available seats in their car were the sideways benches. As more people crammed themselves in, the seating became tighter and tighter until they were pressed together from knee to shoulder.
Carolyn refused to look at Mitchell. Instead, she watched two small children, heads plastered to the window, enjoying the ride. Mitchell barely had to move his head, and she could feel his breath on her cheek as he spoke directly into her ear.
“Those kids appear to be fascinated with the view.”
She didn’t know about the kids, but Carolyn didn’t often take the monorail, and she found it fascinating.
The children’s giggles set off a chord of longing deep inside her. With no marriage prospects in sight, Carolyn was starting to worry she might never have children of her own. She’d spoken with Hank casually a few times about marriage, and even though most men Hank’s age were married, Hank had made it clear he wasn’t quite ready to settle down. Up until recently she’d been satisfied to wait, but with her birthday coming soon, even though she wasn’t going to get married just for the sake of being married, it was another warning that time was not standing still. She was the last of her friends still single, and her biological clock was starting to tick.
When more people exited than entered on the downtown stops, it allowed Carolyn to shuffle a few inches away from Mitchell until they reached their destination.
Throngs of people packed the aisles of the marketplace, which was a three-story building lined with booths and tables with sellers hawking goods from handmade jewelry to farm-fresh produce and everything else in between. The place looked fascinating, and she knew she could spend hours here.
Carolyn tugged on Mitchell’s sleeve to get him to bend down so she could speak to him without raising her voice too much. “I can’t believe you suggested this.”
He straightened and shrugged his shoulders. “I come here every time I have company from out of town. We make it a day trip and take the monorail because it’s so different and there’s always neat stuff to see. Since it’s Saturday, they’ll have some kind of entertainment outside, too. If we’d left earlier, we could have gone to see a movie at the IMAX theater, but we’ll only have time to look around here and have something to eat before we have to go home. It would be different if we’d brought my car instead of using the public transport.”
Time flew by as they browsed through the tables and booths and stores.
The aroma of strawberries and fragrant fruit teased Carolyn’s nose until they walked past the fish market with its pungent odor of fish and clams. As they continued, the strong smell of the raw fish changed to a delectable mixture of fresh-baked bread and cooking meat and spices, then to the heady bouquet of brewing coffee.
Carolyn didn’t need to check her watch. Her stomach told her it was suppertime.
They stepped into the crowded food court. Very few tables were empty, but the area was large and people constantly flowed in and out.
“Pick what you want. My treat.”
Carolyn glanced from one end of the court to the other. “There. The Greek place.”
Mitchell smiled, nodded, and lowered his head to speak softly and still be heard. “A woman after my own heart,” he said in her ear, then straightened and guided her through the crowd.
The only table available was in the center of the crowded area. Mitchell lowered the tray to the table, and they removed their plates and plastic cutlery. “Not exactly a quiet table for two, but it will have to do.”
With her food in front of her, she hesitated. This was it—the moment of truth. They were out in public, and it was time for her to broach the subject of praying in a crowd.
She opened her mouth, but before she had a chance to speak, Mitchell smiled and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I always make sure to give thanks to the Lord before I eat, regardless of where I am or who I’m with, which sometimes can be awkward. Since you’re a Christian, that does make things easier. Are you okay with that?”
He smiled again, waiting for her reply, but all Carolyn could do was nod. His words and actions pleased her more than they should have.
She lowered her head and folded her hands in her lap as Mitchell said a short prayer of thanks for their meal and their outing, as well as for a safe trip home.
He spoke without looking up as he pushed a tidbit of meat off the skewer with the plastic fork. “The verse you have on the plaque beneath the photograph on your living room wall made me think, so I’m going to add it to my list of favorites.” He popped a French fry into his mouth and smiled.
“Thanks,” she mumbled around the food in her mouth. She didn’t want to know his favorite verses. The trouble was, she didn’t know what she wanted.
Mitchell popped another piece of meat into his mouth. “I love this stuff,” he said after swallowing. “I especially love that I didn’t have to make it. Even though you seem to enjoy cooking, it still must be nice to have someone else do it sometimes.”
She nodded as she pulled a piece from her own skewer. “Yes, it is nice, and you’r
e right. This is too much preparation at the end of a long day to make for one person. I doubt I eat much different than most people, even though I make my living in the kitchen.”
Mitchell froze, then laid his fork down. “Hold on a minute. Before we left, I said we weren’t going to talk about cooking.”
She tried to bite back her grin. “You started it, not me.”
“I suppose I did. Sorry.”
At his grin, Carolyn stopped chewing. He really was charming in a boyish sort of way, and it was time again to remind herself not to get too involved with him. She still hadn’t figured out why they were together. She was too old for him if he wanted a relationship. It wasn’t like men usually sought her, because they didn’t. She wasn’t pretty, and though she wasn’t fat, she was by no means slim. She wasn’t glamorous or the life of the party type. She was just. . .ordinary.
Mitchell checked his wristwatch as he popped his last bite of food into his mouth. He took a sip of his drink and put his napkin on the table. “We should probably get going. We have a long ride ahead of us, and we shouldn’t be home too late. We both have to get up for church in the morning.”
Carolyn stood. “I just want to pick up a few things back at the farmers’ market, then we can go.”
❧
As usual, Mitchell joined Gordie and Roland in the foyer. They swapped stories of the interesting things they’d done all week, then took their seats in the sanctuary.
Instead of continuing to talk until the service started, Mitchell only half-paid attention to the conversation. Jake and Ellen had just entered the sanctuary. They held hands as they walked up the center aisle and separated only long enough to slide into the pew.
In just over a month, his best friend was going to marry his kid sister.
It made Mitchell wonder what it would be like to meet someone with whom he would want to spend the rest of his life.
He wasn’t foolish enough to believe in love at first sight, but he sure did like Carolyn. It was sudden, but he wasn’t going to let that scare him away. Instead, it intrigued him. In only a few weeks, he already knew she was different from any other woman he’d met—there was something special and right about her, and he wanted to get to know her better. Much better.
