Elusive Mr. Perfect

by Murray, Tamela Hancock

  “What’s the matter? Why are you taking aspirin?”

  “Headache,” she explained before swallowing the tablets.

  “What are you doing with a headache? You’re not that nervous about this date, are you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know why my head hurts.”

  “Maybe it’s stress.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Joelle’s head pounded even more, and she noticed the pain had traveled to the back of her neck. With her left hand, she leaned against the kitchen counter. She clutched the throbbing muscle with her right hand and tried to massage away the ache.

  Her mother came up behind her. With her fingers on Joelle’s shoulders, she placed one thumb on each side of the base of her neck and pressed several times.

  “Thanks. That feels better.”

  “No doubt. I can feel the tension in your muscles. Poor thing.” She kept the pressure up on Joelle’s neck. “You certainly have no reason to be nervous. Whoever this Wilbert guy is, he’d be crazy not to be thrilled with you, both inside and out.”

  “Thanks, Mom. You always know what to say.”

  “What else are mothers for?” She patted Joelle’s back, ending the therapeutic rub. Leaning against the counter she had just wiped down, Mom folded her arms and took on a knowing expression that reminded Joelle of the Mona Lisa. “You’ve really been dining on a feast of men lately, haven’t you?”

  “A feast of men? Mom!” Joelle set her empty glass in the sink. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.” Eleanor’s narrow shoulders rose in a shrug. “It’s just that since you’ve been working at the doctor’s office, you hadn’t met all that many men. Now, all of a sudden, you seem to be going out with a different guy every week.”

  Joelle didn’t remember a time when she was more grateful to hear the doorbell ring.

  “Your dad’s still out. Want me to get that?”

  “That’s okay, thanks.” Joelle shook her head. “If he’s worth meeting, I’ll make sure to introduce you.”

  When Joelle opened the door, she was shocked to find a man standing on the porch wearing stained blue jeans and a faded gray T-shirt that looked as though it had seen a year of workouts at the gym. She felt her eyes widen, but soon composed her features into a poker face.

  “Wow!” His mouth flew open.

  “Uh, thanks, I guess.” An idea occurred to Joelle as she remembered job seekers from the previous week. “Look, if you’re canvassing the neighborhood looking to do chores, I’m sorry. We don’t have anything for you.”

  He shook his head so hard, a few brown curls fell out of place. A quick run-through with his hand replaced them well enough. “I’m Wilbert. I’m here for Joelle. I’m assuming that’s you?”

  “You assume right.” Despite her best efforts, Joelle’s eyes scanned the rough-hewn man before her. Her tone of voice betrayed her disappointment. “But—”

  “I know what you’re going to say. Didn’t I promise an elegant evening at the dinner theater?” He nodded. “That’s right. I did, and I still plan to keep my promise. I even have my suit in the car.” He cocked his head toward a late-model red sports car parked in front of the house. “It’s just that I forgot I need to do something else first.”

  “Um, should I ask what that something else is?”

  “I promised I’d clean up the churchyard after work today. It’s got to look nice by Sunday.”

  “But it’s only Friday.”

  “I know, but I have classes all day tomorrow. I’m working on my degree.”

  “Oh.” Since her own mother was pursuing her education, Joelle understood all too well how lessons could interfere with someone’s personal life.

  “I wish I’d thought to call before you got dressed, but you wouldn’t mind helping me, would you? The school has showers in the gym locker rooms. You can change there, and then we can go right to the show. The janitor and his wife will be there, so you don’t need to worry.”

  She consulted her watch. “But won’t we miss the play?”

  “We can see the second show. The tickets are good for either one, as long as we go tonight.”

  Joelle shrugged. “All right. I guess a little hard work never hurt anybody.”

  His face lit up with a smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  As she changed in her bedroom, Joelle wondered if Wilbert were putting her through some kind of test and what other women would have done in her place. Sighing, she thought about Dean. No way would he ever pull a stunt like that on any woman.

  Dean. I wonder what he’s doing tonight. Suddenly she became aware that her headache, which she thought had subsided, had returned to make her head pound. She resolved to take a second dose of aspirin as soon as she could.

  Folding her dress, which was thankfully a knit that wouldn’t wrinkle, she placed the garment in an overnight bag. Black hose, pearl earrings, bracelet, and necklace followed. Pulling a red T-shirt over her head, Joelle realized that getting dressed and redressed would result in her hair transforming from deliberately messy to really and truly messy. She decided to toss in the hair wax, a comb, and a can of super-hold spray. Then, remembering that a school locker room wouldn’t necessarily provide soap, she added shampoo, soap, a towel, and a blow dryer. Last, but not least, followed the aspirin.

  The overnight bag was bulging by the time she had finished packing. “Everything but the kitchen sink.” She shook her head.

  As she reemerged to the living room, Joelle cast her mom a grateful look for keeping Wilbert occupied while she changed. Her mom’s response was to wink, a sure sign she wasn’t too certain she liked hardworking Wilbert. Joelle sighed inwardly. She could count on a heart-to-heart when she returned home that night.

  “See you later, Mom.”

  “When will you be home?”

  “We should be home by midnight,” Wilbert promised as the phone started to ring.

  Joelle wondered if she should stay to see if the call was for her, but Eleanor shooed her out. “I’ll get that. You don’t have any time to lose. If it’s for you, I’ll take a message.”

  She could feel her mother’s eyes on them as they walked to Wilbert’s car. Wilbert did pause at the passenger side and open Joelle’s door, a definite plus. Maybe there are some men other than Dean who remember what chivalry is, after all!

  Seven

  “By the way, Joelle, I need to stop by the dry cleaners,” Wilbert said as they approached the next town. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Sure. I understand.” Joelle forced herself to smile. How many more delays did he plan to propose?

  He pulled the car into a small parking lot in front of the cleaners and tilted his head toward the backseat. Following his direction, Joelle saw a large, lumpy duffel bag. “Mind taking those in for me?”

  “Um, sure. As long as I don’t have to pay the bill,” she quipped.

  “Maybe next time.” Wilbert chuckled.

  Although taken aback by his odd request, Joelle accomplished the errand quickly and soon slid back into the passenger seat.

  “Thanks.” He flashed a smile. “Oh, and by the way, I have to stop by my apartment. I just realized I forgot my good clothes. But before that, I need to stop at the gas station.”

  “We’re getting a lot done this evening,” she remarked, somehow managing to keep the edge of irritation off her voice. “You don’t need to stop for a haircut, too, do you?”

  “That won’t happen until our second date.” His serious expression made her wonder if he really was joking. “Although I just remembered I do need to pick up a quart of milk at the grocery store.”

  As hard as she tried to be patient, Joelle couldn’t help but stew as she sat in the car, sweating from heat, as he made one stop after another. “I’m beginning to wonder if you even have tickets for the play,” she noted a half hour later as they parked in the lot of a six-unit apartment building. “Maybe you really don’t and are just stalling until we run o
ut of time.” She let out a strained giggle.

  He snapped his fingers. “Oh, I’m glad you reminded me. I’ve got to get those out of my sock drawer.”

  Joelle didn’t answer. Her capacity to be amused by the absentminded professor type had surpassed its limit.

  Wilbert hopped out of the car. Before he shut the door, he turned to Joelle and leaned his head inside. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “You mean, into your apartment? Alone?” She let her voice drift off so he could guess the source of her protests. Certainly she wouldn’t need to spell them out.

  Wilbert bristled so he stood fully upright. “I’m not going to attack you, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Anyway, both of my roommates are home. If I try anything, you can tell them to beat me up.”

  Upset that she had offended her date, Joelle acquiesced by exiting her side of the car. Wilbert had given her no indication he couldn’t be trusted. Still, she made a mental note to bolt if she saw no evidence of his roommates.

  Her anxiety proved unfounded. As soon as they entered, Joelle saw two young men who looked to be in their late teens or early twenties situated in front of the television. The sounds emanating from the oversized box were angry. Curious, Joelle turned her attention to the show. Overdeveloped men shouted each other down, vowing revenge against one another. A bikini-clad woman with long hair and muscular arms added screaming remarks. A slightly smaller man, dressed in a referee’s uniform, acted as though he wanted the shouting to stop. Since his protests were weak, Joelle wasn’t convinced.

  “What’s the matter?” one of the guys asked. “Haven’t you seen pro wrestling before?”

  “Apparently not,” Joelle answered. She looked at her inquisitor, only to find his face was hidden by the brim of a Yankees’ baseball cap.

  The second roommate took a swig of beer from a brown bottle. “Have a seat and take a look, then.”

  “She doesn’t have time,” Wilbert answered. “Joelle, as you can see, this place is a mess. Bert and Josh don’t seem to mind, but I’d sure appreciate it if you could pick up a little while I get my things together. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Joelle had been too absorbed by the television program to notice the room until Wilbert mentioned it. Looking around, she could see the place was, indeed, a mess. Five pizza cartons that appeared to be a week old were positioned in different places on the floor. Empty beer bottles and soda cans occupied various places on mismatched end tables, sofa arms, and the floor. Some had landed as though their consumers attempted to pitch them inside an overflowing black plastic trash can and missed their target by anywhere from a few inches to several feet. Balled-up wads of paper decorated the room like so much confetti. A stack of newspapers, magazines, and mail had become so large that the highest pieces had toppled out of position, resulting in a mishmash of paper. For Wilbert’s sake, Joelle hoped no bills that needed to be paid anytime soon were hidden in the pile. Suddenly, she noticed the room was permeated with a stench that reminded her of how a dirty gym would smell if a pizza parlor were operating in the middle of it.

  “Um—” was all she could manage before she realized Wilbert had left the room.

  Baseball Cap laughed. “He’s long gone, Honey. You’d better get crackin’ if you expect to go anywhere else tonight.”

  The other roommate let out a hearty burp. “Why don’t you go in the kitchen and do the dishes? The dishwasher’s broken, but there’s plenty of detergent to do them by hand.”

  “I didn’t come here to do the dishes.” Joelle folded her arms.

  “Suit yourself. But like I said, he’ll stall until at least some of this work is done.” Baseball Cap shrugged. “He does this to everybody he brings here.”

  “He does?”

  “Yeah. See, we don’t mind the mess. He does, but he doesn’t want to pick up after us on principle.”

  “In that case, neither do I.” Determined not to involve herself in their feud, Joelle plopped onto a chair. Only after she felt moisture on the side of her thigh did she jump back up. The culprit turned out to be a discarded half-eaten piece of pizza, with pepperoni and bits of cheese and ground beef still clinging to a sea of tomato sauce. The food had been wedged between the cushion and arm. Joelle didn’t want to venture a guess as to how long ago.

  “Sorry about that,” Baseball Cap commented.

  Without replying, Joelle headed into the small kitchen in search of a paper towel. Perhaps if she got a little water on the spot right away, there would be some hope of getting out the red paste and yellow grease in the laundry.

  Not surprisingly, the kitchen table was piled with junk. Books and papers occupied the seats of the matching chairs. Sighing, Joelle headed for the counters. Behind a stack of open cookie containers and boxes of cereal, she discovered a paper towel rack. To her amazement, the rack housed a clean, new roll. Noticing a pattern of blue and pink bears, she expected the bachelors hadn’t noticed the motif was meant for a nursery. But she wasn’t complaining. Finally she maneuvered the faucet around a sink of dirty dishes and dampened the towel. With a little scrubbing, Joelle cleared most of the spot from her jeans.

  Task completed, she located another overflowing trash can. This one was surrounded by paper grocery bags filled with more garbage. Joelle tossed the crumpled towel in the general direction of the mess. Her reward was to see it land in one of the bags. Though her basketball skills were lacking, the sheer number of bags had guaranteed her two points. She returned to the living room, where she hoped to find Wilbert. He still hadn’t emerged from his room.

  “I know it’s none of my business,” she offered to Baseball Cap, “but cleaning up the old food you have lying around will do more to get rid of roaches than all that boric acid powder you have around the baseboards.”

  “Maybe. But they’re permanent residents. They were part of the Welcome Wagon when we got here.”

  “Shh!” hissed the other guy. “I’m trying to hear the TV.”

  The program had switched from wrestling to a commercial featuring women wearing hot pants and halter tops. Between the disorder and the prurient programming, Joelle had had enough. “Tell Wilbert I’ve gone back to the car.”

  “Sure.”

  Joelle didn’t believe they’d tell him anything, but at that point, being alone in a sweltering vehicle seemed better than enduring another moment in Wilbert’s apartment.

  “Too bad,” she heard one of the men observe as she swung the door shut behind her. “She looked better than most of the others.”

  A grin touched Joelle’s lips in spite of herself. No way was she returning to such a disaster. As she waited for Wilbert, Joelle opted to mill around the common area and enjoy what little breeze the day offered.

  Her date snuck up on her moments later as she observed two young sisters playing in a small sandlot. “I thought I told you to help out in the house. What are you doing out here?”

  “Waiting for you. Ready to go?” Joelle made sure her tone didn’t invite further inquiry or criticism.

  Without another word, he led her to the car. Joelle broke the silence as they pulled back into traffic. “What’s the deal with your roommates? If you can’t stand a mess, why don’t you either hire a maid or throw them out?”

  “One, I can’t afford a maid. Two, they’re my brothers. They’re both still in school and don’t have anywhere else to go. Don’t ask for details. Besides, it looks to me like any nice girl wouldn’t mind helping out a little. None of the others seem to mind.”

  “Then where are they?” She regretted her retort as soon as it left her lips. “I’m sorry. Look, I can understand not wanting to leave your brothers in the lurch, but as long as it’s your apartment, why can’t you make them pick up?”

  “I’ve tried. Believe me.”

  “You could at least put your foot down about the beer drinking.”

  “What they do is their business.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t need criticism from you or anyone else.”

&nb
sp; Joelle and Wilbert rode in silence. Despite his defense of them, she wondered why Wilbert let his brothers get away with drinking beer all day and treating his home like a dump. And to think—he expected her to clean it! Just like he expected her to clean his churchyard. She started to confront him about that issue when she noticed his mouth was clamped shut. At that moment she decided to remain mute.

  I agreed to help with the churchyard, and I won’t go back on my promise now. If we see each other again, I can always bring up the subject later.

  Joelle was glad when the church came into sight. The sanctuary building stood grandly in the center of a large plot of land, dominating the nearby landscape. A white steeple looked down upon huge oaks, sugar maples, and pines. The church building and the accompanying school, secluded among the trees, created a majestic picture.

  Only the sign in front indicated strength and energy. It read:

  King’s Army Church and Christian School

  Dr. Dillon Douglas, Pastor

  Sunday’s sermon: How Does God Define Victory?

  “This facility is really something, isn’t it?” Wilbert asked as they exited his car.

  Joelle continued her survey of the grounds. The colossal brick church building looked strong enough to withstand attacks. Rectangular sections protruding from the main portion of the building indicated at least ten classrooms. A well-maintained playground included a set of four swings, two slides, a tire swing, monkey bars, and a merry-go-round.

  “This is quite nice,” she readily agreed.

  “We use the classrooms adjacent to the playground for Sunday school. During the week, they’re used by the lower grades of the school.”

  Another building loomed to the left. “What’s that?”

  “The high school.” Wilbert’s pride was obvious. “We go from kindergarten all the way up through the twelfth grade. Almost five hundred students are enrolled here. Some drive fifty miles, one way, to go to this school.”

  “Wow!”

  Still looking over the area, Joelle noticed a flat parcel of property with enough land to accommodate a soccer field and a baseball diamond. Two sets of bleachers were painted red and black. Since her contacts rendered her vision superior to 20/20, she could read “The King’s Army” on the nearest scoreboard. The mascot—a knight in the armor of a Crusader—was painted on the board. He looked ready for battle.