“Did it ever occur to you that the women you know might also want something different but not know how to go about it?”
Nolan’s mouth opened to answer but nothing came. He sat there slack-jawed throughout the rest of the commercials before taking a drink of his root beer and returning his concentration to the game. At the next break, he turned to Dave and admitted, “I didn’t. I never thought of that. I guess I assumed that they would have shown some kind of desire for something different. All I saw was the perfect manicures, the perfect wardrobes, and the stilted conversations about whatever was the ‘in’ thing of the week. Why wouldn’t someone ever mention a desire for change?”
“Because, like you, they weren’t willing to put themselves on the line.”
“What do you mean? What do you think I’m doing?”
At the next commercial break, the conversation continued as though without a pause. “You’re running away. You’re pretending to be someone you aren’t in order to find what you’re looking for.”
“Are you saying you think I’m a fraud here?”
“I’m saying,” David replied carefully, “I’m saying that you appear to be just another guy here, but you’re not. You’re a very wealthy man who is accustomed to more than you can find here.”
A whole quarter passed without another word. Near the final two minutes, commercials drove them nuts as the score hung at thirty-four Warriors, thirty-five Cardinals. “After this is over, I want to take you over and introduce you to Grace. Maybe you’ll understand why I haven’t flaunted my—”
“I’m not talking about flaunting. I’m talking about hiding. You seem to be hiding under a façade of suburban middle class when we both know even your parents had a hard time remembering those days.”
“Look who’s talking! Mr. Son of a real estate developer!”
“But I don’t pretend.”
The game exploded on the screen, effectively silencing both men for several minutes until they finally threw popcorn at the screen in disgust as their team lost. Dave branched into a new topic. “So, in this paradise of available females, have you met anyone?”
“Paige Matthews. She’s intelligent, modest, and incredibly gorgeous. I’m just getting to know her, but it’s nice to have to do the pursuing for once.”
“Oh, so this is really about your desire for the hunt.”
Laughing, Nolan shook his head. “The hunt is an enjoyable novelty—it’s not as easy as you’d think—not with Paige anyway. But what I really like is that I’m not on the defensive. I don’t feel like a car on the showroom floor. Everyone’s looking, wanting to take it for a test drive, and I’m terrified to find out who finally buys me.” The look on David’s face was priceless. “Come on, Dave; let’s drown our sorrows at Grace’s house.”
Ignoring the unfinished discussion, both men ambled across the street, and their stomachs rumbled at the scent of stew and pumpkin pie as they climbed the steps of her porch. Grace’s call of, “come in” sounded closer than Nolan expected, and he was surprised to find her sitting on the couch stitching something. He introduced his friend. “Oh, stay there. I rarely see you sitting, you know. It’s a nice change.”
“I’m just so tired and cold today. I hope I’m not coming down with anything. I’d hate to get you or David sick.”
She turned to David, and without giving Nolan a chance to respond, insisted he take a seat. “So, what brings you to Brunswick today?”
“We watched the Warriors vs. Cardinals game.”
“Warriors lost.”
Before David could comment, Nolan asked, “You watched it?”
“No. I could tell by the tone of your voices that you weren’t happy. Are you guys hungry? Stew is done and there is pumpkin pie in the oven.”
She moved to get up, but Nolan threatened to sit on her if she tried it again. “I’ll take care of it. Should I check that pie? Knife in the middle, right?”
“Right. You remembered.”
David watched in shock as Nolan tested the pie and sent it back into the oven declaring it “not quite done.” He brought a tray and three bowls into the living room and ladled the stew from a cast iron Dutch oven on the wood burning stove. The scene was so utterly foreign to David that he was dumbstruck. Nolan hurried back into the kitchen for spoons, napkins, and glasses of water for everyone. The sound of the oven timer sent him racing back to the kitchen to check on the pie.
“Are you staying over, David?”
“No, I was going to try to talk Nolan into a movie and dinner, and then I planned to head back to Rockland. I’m supposed to fill in for a friend at church tomorrow.”
Nolan overheard and commented, “I think Nick does that because you get those kids hungry for more. You really should take over the thing.”
Grace ignored the tangent and returned to the topic. “Are you set on that? I mean the whole dinner thing, because my stew is pretty filling, and if you eat pie—”
“How about a triple checker round?” Nolan interjected.
“I’m lousy with checkers, but I’m game.”
Nolan and Grace grinned simultaneously as Nolan pulled the checkerboard out from the lower shelf of the coffee table. “Set ‘em up!”
~*~*~*~
Nolan stood next to David’s window rubbing his arms for warmth. “Thanks for coming, man. I’ve missed you.”
“This is your new life then, huh? Pie and stew and checkers on a Saturday night?”
“Be honest, Dave, did you have fun?”
He nodded as he rolled up the window, whipped his car around, and drove down the street. “I had fun, man,” Dave said to himself, “but mostly watching you. I had no idea that the domestic scene fitted you so perfectly.”
Chapter Twelve
For the next two weeks, Grace taught the puppy to “go” on newspaper, sleep in his bed, and not cry at night. She mastered smocking and worked hard to be ready for an upcoming craft show. Her life was a whirlwind of activity, and though she enjoyed keeping busy, she began to look forward to the quieter days of winter after Christmas.
Exhaustion kept her from the retirement home until even Craig finally said something to her about it. The next morning, Grace left the housework and met the early bus. It was time for a visit with Aunt Fran.
“So I have to hear about your new pet from your brother. You caved, Gracie.”
Grace’s expression was priceless. “I got him, though. I knew he’d pester me until I went crazy, so I agreed to the dog and then chose one on my terms.”
“Craig wanted a shepherd. He’s always loved them. What’d you get?”
“A Pomeranian puppy. Seven weeks old.”
Even Fran Buscher had to laugh at the mental image of a dog like that as her solution to her supposed need for protection. “I bet he wasn’t happy. He said he wanted a watch dog.”
“His name is Rolex. That’s a watch; he’s a dog… perfect.”
“I always knew you had more spunk than anyone gave you credit for. So, what about your new neighbor?”
Grace spent the next half-hour talking about Nolan and how thoroughly he’d integrated himself into their lives. “It’s like we’ve known him forever. He’s very good to Verily and my kids.”
“You shouldn’t talk about those brats you watch as ‘your kids.’ People are going to get the wrong idea and think you actually had the backbone to stand up to the Puritanical ideals my brother brought you up with and enjoyed a little old-fashioned carnality.”
“Aunt Fran, that was just crass,” Grace protested. “I don’t appreciate you speaking like that about my dad.”
Ignoring her objections, Fran took the conversation in a new direction. “What about this Nolan? Any chance at a—”
“Don’t even dream it, Aunt Fran. He’s attracted to Paige Matthews—”
“That homely thing? Even you were more attractive than that girl,” she began.
Ignoring the sting of ‘even you,’ Grace interrupted to defend her friend. “Paige is
now one of the most gorgeous girls in the greater Rockland Metro area. You’ve seen her. The one who picks me up sometimes. Blond hair, tall, very fashionable—”
“If that’s the girl you ran around with in junior high, then find her makeover place and get them to work on you, girl, they did great.”
“I love you too, Aunt Fran.”
~*~*~*~
While Grace created ornaments and household decorations for the coming Christmas craft shows, Nolan began corresponding with Paige via email. Initially, he sent a simple email to her address in the church directory, with a short note suggesting they get to know one another via email. When he received an unexpected but pleasant and warm response, Nolan hoped that he would find in Paige the woman that he’d been seeking for so long. Thus far, the experiment was a monstrous failure. All of their conversations seemed concentrated upon Grace.
It was soon apparent to Nolan that Paige was not the kind of woman that he hoped to find. She looked feminine and acted feminine, but illogically, she appeared to resent her femininity. Nolan was looking for a strong woman, but Paige paradoxically exuded an air that reminded him of a damsel in distress. The more that he realized how wrong she was for him, the more she seemed to be pushing him toward Grace. Surprisingly, Nolan seemed to welcome the switch.
Sitting in his home office, Nolan was working hard on a new project. His email icon popped up at the bottom of his screen, and he clicked it open. “That was fast! I just emailed you an hour ago.”
He opened Paige’s latest email. She was asking for an escort to the church’s Thanksgiving supper two weeks from Wednesday. “Chuck Majors has informed me that, since we seem to ‘miss’ each other so often, he’ll just meet me there. If you feel up to rescuing me this once, I’d appreciate it. I’d suggest that you take Grace too, but she’s on the cooking crew. She won’t be dining with the rest of us. Please let me know. I appreciate this email correspondence. I would never have had the courage to ask you in person.”
Nolan fired back a quick “absolutely, and thank you for the thinking of me” missive into the great wide web and pondered his correspondence with Paige. He scrolled through several of the latest emails and then began laughing. The tears rolled down his face, and his belly hurt from his guffaws. “Those two women are going to drive themselves crazy!”
He felt foolish. It was obvious and yet he’d missed it. The two women were both working hard to play matchmaker between Nolan and their friend. Paige extolled Grace’s virtues from her opening sentences to her closing ones. She was discreet, but Nolan should have been able to guess from that first conversation during the progressive dinner.
Grace was her charming self. Never one to beat around the bush, she gave him tips, hints, suggestions and generally conspired with him to make the relationship work. Nolan thought about that. He wasn’t a romantic in the original sense. He knew that life could be hard and that problems generally required work more than simple hope. On the other hand, did he really want to begin a relationship that would require so much work from the start?
He thought about the past weeks. From the first few moments of his acquaintance with Grace, there was an ease and a friendliness that he had rarely found with anyone but his parents. When she didn’t blame him for Cade’s accident, he’d been relieved. When she placed the responsibility on herself and the boy, it had impressed him. People were all too willing to shift blame, but not Grace.
He’d thought of her as “just another guy” from the first. How could he have done that? She was the epitome of womanliness. What made him blind to that? Nolan’s musings took him to places that were uncomfortable for him.
Am I that shallow? Nolan’s questions to himself hurt. Surrounded as he was by attractive and beautiful women, he’d always imagined himself with a more modest version of the stunning women of his acquaintance. However, he had not given much thought to appearance on his “Order Form” for a wife. Pulling up the document on his laptop, he did much soul searching.
Christian
Feminine— loves being a woman
Strong
Modest
Sense of humor
Intelligent
Low-maintenance
Loves children
Reviewing the list, he added,
A best friend
An attractive personality
Nolan thought about Grace as he looked at his list. It seemed as though someone wrote a want ad with Grace in mind. Attractive personality… what does that really mean? Am I saying that “looks: don’t matter?” Or am I really saying that Grace’s looks don’t matter? What does she look like anyway?
He thought seriously for some time and then felt foolish. Men were stereotyped as being annoyingly visual and often for good reason. Modesty was an important virtue to him because of it. Indecently clad women were always a stumbling block, and he had turned down many accounts that were sought by women wearing too little for him to keep decent thoughts in his head.
He puzzled over Grace’s features for a time. While fairly certain that Grace wore her hair chin length, he wasn’t sure of its color. He finally decided on honey blonde before realizing that he was thinking of Paige. He thought her eyes looked purple the evening she wore her purple dress but later realized that it must have been a chameleon effect. Regardless of their color, Nolan knew that Grace had the kindest eyes he’d ever seen.
Grace was somewhat plump… actually, she reminded him of his mother. Martha Burke had called herself, “softly contoured.” While Grace didn’t strike him as obese, he couldn’t have guessed her weight. When Nolan realized that he had no clue as to Grace’s height, he laughed.
“Lord, I’ve always prayed that I wouldn’t marry superficially. That the woman I married would be so perfect in my eyes that I didn’t even notice if she was outwardly attractive. If Grace is your answer to that prayer…the joke is on me, because I certainly didn’t notice either way.”
His thoughts came swarming around him like a heavy blanket. He’d just discovered that Paige wasn’t the right woman for him, and, already, he was looking at Grace in a different way. Thoroughly disgusted with himself, Nolan stood to retrieve the paper. “Nolan. Down, boy! Your biological clock isn’t ticking and neither is Grace’s.”
Had he not been working so hard to focus on his friendship with Grace, Nolan would have found himself quite amusing. Even in verbal chastisement, Nolan’s mental shift to Grace was apparent. New ideas had opened to him, and he found it hard to let them go.
~*~*~*~
Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Grace knocked on Nolan’s door with vigor. Upon hearing the upcoming dinner plans, she realized that he might like to see a swatch of the fabric left over from making Paige’s dress. With the swatch in hand, he would be sure to get the perfect corsage.
“Nolan!”
He answered the door with trepidation. Should he treat Grace differently? For the past few weeks, he had slowly become aware of the fact that one of his best friends happened to be a woman. Her smile relaxed him until she bubbled over about him escorting Paige to the upcoming dinner. “Yes, she asked me to do that the other day. Wasn’t that improvement for her? I really think she is on the way out of her shell.”
Grace cocked her head in the charming way that she’d developed in the last few weeks. Having the puppy had given her new mannerisms that were comically endearing to her friends and family. “Ok, what’s wrong?”
Nolan had a feeling that he’d never be able to hide anything from Grace. She was very intuitive. “Grace, I’ve been thinking and praying today and, well, Paige is not what I am looking for in my life. She’s very attractive on many levels, and I do enjoy her company in somewhat limited doses, but after this dinner, I won’t be escorting her anywhere.”
Until he articulated his thoughts to Grace, he hadn't realized how fully convinced he had become that Paige could never be. the right woman for him.
Grace looked at him with hands on her hips and laughed. “You really aren’t intere
sted, are you?”
“You have no idea…” He quickly caught himself. Sheepishly, he shook his head and turned his attention to the fabric in Grace’s hand.
“What is this for?”
“Well, this is what Paige will be wearing.”
Unable to resist an opening like that, Nolan teased her in hopes of relieving some of the tension that was beginning to build. “I think she’ll be a little cold… don’t you think we should buy her a sweater or something?”
Grace flicked Nolan on either cheek with her piece of rosy fabric. “You’re terrible. I just thought you’d like to see the color so you could match a corsage; it’s customary to have one for her. I was going to suggest roses, but if you’re going to distance yourself, maybe carnations would be good.”
“No, I’ll find the prettiest ones I can that will match. There isn’t any reason for her not to receive the best. I doubt that she’s received many flowers that she felt free to accept.”
“She hasn’t but…”
Nolan cut her off quickly. “Grace, Paige will be relieved to know that I don’t intend to continue to pursue a relationship with her. Not because she’s afraid of me, or doesn’t trust me, but because she is no more interested in me than I am in her.”
A wicked grin crossed Grace’s face. “Can I interest you in a lovely lawyer with an enchanting child? Marci…”
“Grace… I’m just realizing what I am really looking for, and I’d kind of like to see where the Lord takes that right now.”
Misunderstanding the look in Grace’s eyes as disappointment, Nolan added, “Let’s make a deal. In four months, if I haven’t found Miss Right, you can set me up with any woman who is a Christian and doesn’t ask me out first. I can’t stand that.”
“Well, I was sort of joking, but now that I think about it… I’ll keep her in mind when God doesn’t drop a gorgeous woman in your lap before our three month, twenty nine day, twenty three hour, fifty-seven minute contract is over.”
Nolan’s deep rumbling laugh made Grace smile. She started back down his steps but paused as she heard him say, “I think I’m more interested in who she is inside right now.”
Noble Pursuits Page 10
