by Gail Sattler
Ignoring the list, Bill picked up a book and started skimming through it. “Yup, good with dogs, nice girl, Doreen.”
Edwin couldn’t stand it anymore. Placing both palms on the counter, he stared Bill straight in the eye. He was about to shout that he wasn’t there to talk about Doreen’s dog when he noticed one of the corners of Bill’s mouth quivering in an attempt not to laugh.
“Like her, don’t you, Edwin?” asked Bill as he balanced himself on the stool behind the cash resister, tipping it onto two legs behind him.
“Yeah, and I wanted to ask you for some advice.”
“Don’t know how much help I’ll be, but what do you want to know?”
“Do you think she likes me?” Edwin blurted out.
Bill smiled, and Edwin didn’t know what to make of his expression. “I think you’re a better judge of that than I. She probably does, or she wouldn’t spend so much time with you.”
Big help that was. “Well, what should I do?”
“Do?”
“I’m not sure how she feels about me. What should I do?”
Bill shrugged his shoulders. “Be yourself, be honest, and let her know how you feel. She might be just as nervous as you are.” He pushed the bag of dog treats across the counter to Edwin, took Edwin’s money, and placed a ripped plastic cover over the cash register.
Taking the hint, Edwin walked to the door with Bill trailing behind him. Bill flipped the sign to read “Closed,” and Edwin heard the lock click behind him.
At least he’d had a nice walk.
twelve
Doreen set the hand brake as she stopped her van in Edwin’s driveway. Every time she opened the door to his empty house and heard his tape-recorded voice singing songs of love and affection, it left her feeling melancholy.
At first, he sang strictly Top Forty songs, but lately he had switched to love ballads, or other songs promising undying love and devotion. It made her miss him, and she wondered if he thought of her during the day as often as she thought of him. If I bought him a praise tape, maybe he would change his repertoire.
Tomorrow was volleyball night, and she could hardly wait. He had promised to come and to wear shorts, claiming he had great legs. She had told him to let her be the judge of that. She remembered his slightly off-color reply, but laughed in spite of herself.
As she approached the front door, she saw it vibrate as Dozer thudded into it. She dreaded the day the dog actually hurt himself.
Beside the door, a newly planted rosebush looked suspiciously like Mrs. Primline’s prize rose, the one she had dragged Edwin and Doreen into the backyard to see. Doreen fumbled with the keys, then dropped them as she remembered the time alone in Mrs. Primline’s rose garden. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, shivering while she remembered the poignancy of his kiss. If she swallowed her pride and encouraged him a little, would he give her a repeat performance?
Dozer sat in the center of the entranceway, neither jumping nor running outside as she opened the door. In the short time she had been working with him, Dozer learned quickly what was expected of him, and now obediently waited for her command before he stepped outside. He couldn’t hide his excitement, though, because his short stump of a tail wagged so hard it shook the entire dog.
Today, instead of rushing Dozer out to the van, Doreen rushed herself upstairs. Her consumption of coffee during her travels had caught up with her.
As she exited the washroom, Doreen could not help but notice the condition of the house. It was a total mess. In the washroom, one of the towels lay heaped on the floor and Edwin’s razor and personal grooming items were strewn over the vanity. The kitchen was worse, with a tipped-over cereal box in the middle of the table, along with a dirty bowl and spoon, and the milk had been left out.
Hoping it could be saved, Doreen put it in the refrigerator. The counter was covered with crumbs where he had made himself a sandwich for lunch. The dirty knife and the carton of sandwich wrap were still on the counter, along with an open bread bag with the crusts still in it. Dirty dishes not only filled the sink, but lay in a disorganized mess on the counter as well. She fought the urge to clean up after him.
The condition of the living room was no better. The old tape player was hooked up and playing with wires sticking out everywhere, no change from the first day he installed his invention. Doreen had an eerie feeling of deja-vu as she stood alone in Edwin’s house, listening to the sound of his less-than-melodious singing.
Doreen saw her old Bible sitting open on the couch; an unused bookmark lay on the arm less than a foot away. A half-empty coffee cup sat on the coffee table with no coaster beneath it, along with a plate surrounded by more crumbs than were on the plate itself. A crumpled shirt was draped over the armchair and one lone sock lay in the middle of the carpet, which needed vacuuming badly.
The man was a slob!
She had never seen the house in this condition. Doreen shook her head. She could imagine Edwin racing around the house putting things away before she got there. It was amazing she hadn’t caught him the couple of times she arrived unannounced.
Doreen led Dozer out and locked the house, continuing on her way, thinking about Edwin all day long.
❧
Home again after delivering all the dogs to their respective homes, she immediately phoned Edwin’s answering machine to leave a message that she might stop by for a visit after practice. She’d stopped at the Christian bookstore and bought him a praise tape, and intended to surprise him with it.
After a quick supper, Doreen changed and headed back into town for the weekly practice at the church.
A thought struck her as she unlocked the church door. Having been born and raised in a Christian home, she wondered what it must be like for Edwin to be starting his Christian walk as an adult. He openly admitted he had believed in God all his life, but what he now felt and discovered was very different. He’d entered into a whole new way of thinking, making progress one step at a time.
As expected, he fit right into her Tuesday Bible study, and from the many conversations with the group, was making good progress. A diligent reader, he was not ashamed to ask about anything he did not understand. He had also expressed interest in baptism. She’d almost cried in front of everyone.
The joy she experienced seeing his growth as a new Christian, however, only emphasized the lack of growth in their personal relationship. In a way, she almost resented his enthusiasm, because she felt a distant second. It made her feel both ashamed and selfish.
They talked long and often, sometimes about personal things, other times not, but their conversations always fell short of involvement. He never commented about missing her or seeing her again soon. After he had kissed her, twice, but who was counting, she had hoped for more of an indication, or at least some encouragement.
Doreen flicked the hidden switch to turn the lights on in the sanctuary, and stepped up to the glossy black grand piano. She opened the lid and keyboard cover, then tapped out a few chords before she sat on the bench. With no people in the room to dampen the sound, the piano had a strange echoing quality. The electric piano in the corner of her small living room at home did not produce the same effect.
She wanted to be alone in the large empty building this evening, so she had arrived well ahead of the scheduled practice time. She wanted to play alone, with no one listening but God. Could He help her sort out her relationship with Edwin?
For half an hour, she played some hymns as well as the more upbeat worship choruses, the music flowing from her heart and soothing her soul.
A voice at the end of a song caused her to jump. “Hi, Doreen. You’re early.”
It was Brad, the worship leader, who usually arrived first. Walking to her as she sat at the piano, he laid down his list of songs beside her music book.
“Hi, Brad. You scared me. I guess I wasn’t watching the time.”
“Hey, no problem. You sounded wonderful, as always. For a few minutes, I listened from the other side of
the doorway. I think I’m going to change the lineup to include that last song.”
Doreen smiled shyly. “You’re the leader. You lead, I follow.”
“Oh, brother!” he intoned sarcastically. “Don’t give me any of that ‘your wish is my command’ stuff. Coming from you, of all people, I don’t believe it.”
“So, what’s your point?” she asked, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. She loved teasing Brad, and did it often.
“You always have more suggestions than any of the others.”
“Me?”
“Don’t start, Doreen.” He wagged his finger at her.
Fortunately for her, the other members of the band chose that moment to walk in the door, and following a brief prayer, their practice was under way.
❧
By the time they finished, all Doreen could think of was her upcoming visit with Edwin. She practically ran to her van, and struggled to keep her speed to the legal limit on the short drive to his house.
Before she managed to knock, she heard the usual sound of Dozer slipping on the linoleum and sliding into the door with a thump. If he wasn’t barking so much, she would have been worried that this time he finally managed to hurt himself.
Abruptly, the door opened, making her wonder if the thud this time had been Edwin bumping into the door.
“Hi!” he shouted in greeting above the volume of Dozer’s frantic barking. “Come on in!”
She raised her finger to tell him he no longer had to pull the dog back, that he sat just fine for her every day, but he had already closed the door and released the dog. She then raised one arm to shoulder height, and waited.
Edwin watched as Dozer walked, not ran, to Doreen, then sat quietly in front of her, his tail wagging a mile a minute beneath him, almost like he was waiting for her to do something. She touched his collar with one finger, and he stood, all four paws rooted to the floor. Doreen walked into the living room, but Dozer stayed put. When she made a single clap of her hands, Dozer turned and walked to her, sitting in front of her once more.
Edwin joined them in the living room and sat beside her on the couch. “How did you do that?” he asked.
She smiled sweetly at him, and his stomach clenched at the same time as his heart started to pound. “That’s my signal before I attach the leash. He’s to stay till we’re ready to go to the van. Only I didn’t go to the van this time.” He noticed her eyes make a broad sweep of the living room as she ran one hand over his coffee table.
“Want a cup of coffee? I know it’s late, so I made decaf.”
When she nodded, Edwin stood, meaning to be the perfect host, to pour and bring it to her, but she followed him into the kitchen. He wondered what she was looking for, because again, her eyes ran a sweep of the entire room, including the drainboard, which was empty.
“Can I use your washroom?”
“You know you don’t have to ask.”
She smiled and nodded, then turned and left. Edwin poured her coffee, added the cream and sugar, pulled a couple of napkins out of the drawer, and carried a bag of donuts into the living room. Today he was glad he had checked his messages from work, which gave him the opportunity to stop on the way home to buy a treat for her.
She joined him on the couch, sitting primly, with her hands folded in her lap. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought she was planning something.
“I was here this afternoon.”
“So? You’re here every afternoon.”
“I had to go upstairs to use your washroom. I hope you don’t mind.” She nibbled her bottom lip.
“Of course I don’t mind. Why would I mind?”
Doreen smiled. “I see you’ve been busy.”
Busy? The only thing he had done since he got home, donuts in hand, was run around like a madman cleaning up the house.
His mouth dropped, and his face paled. Edwin slumped and buried his face in his hands. Cleaning up the house! Now he understood. She had seen the disaster the house was in when she was here today. Doreen was a neat freak. He had tried hard since they met to keep the place tidy, but this last week he had let it slip while he made a couple of tapes for the dog, and things kind of got away from him.
The heat from his cheeks nearly burned his palms. He hoped she hadn’t peeked inside his bedroom and seen the unmade bed or his underwear on the floor. Or a few days’ worth of laundry piled up beside the closet door. “Oh, no,” he moaned into his hands.
He flinched when her hand rested on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Edwin, I’m just teasing you. Sometimes my house gets messy, too.”
“Right.” He shook his head, not removing his hands from his face. “I’ll bet your house never gets that messy,” he mumbled.
The pause felt like an eternity. “Well, maybe not that messy.”
All he could do was groan.
“Hey, I bought you something.”
His hands dropped to his lap. “You did?”
She reached for her purse, then pulled out a cassette tape and held it in the air. “Your neighbor said your method works, so I bought you some new material. Do you take requests?” She dropped the tape in his hand.
A picture of a clean-cut young man holding a guitar graced the cover. The name was unfamiliar. He turned it over to read the song titles. None of them was familiar either.
“It’s my favorite praise tape. You might have heard a couple of the songs in church, but not recognized the names. I thought you might want to change your repertoire someday.”
Edwin’s ears burned, as well as his cheeks. On the first day of his experiment, he sang along to the first songs he touched that he half knew, just to see if it worked. When it did, he chose every love song he had in his CD collection, not for the stupid dog, but for Doreen. “I know it’s bad, but it’s worth the humiliation if it keeps the dog quiet.”
“You have a lovely voice. With a little practice, I think you could be very good. Don’t feel embarrassed. But I must admit that it’s strange to hear your voice when you aren’t home.”
She thought he had a lovely voice? He thought he was terrible. “Really?” he asked.
“Really. It felt like I was intruding, walking around uninvited in your house, seeing signs of your presence all over the place when you weren’t here.”
Edwin waved his hands in front of him. “No, not that. Do you really like my singing?”
Doreen smiled. “Well, you could use a little practice, but you’re not bad at all. And that’s a special tape. If you play both channels you hear the singer and the music, but if you turn it all the way to one side, it only plays the music, so you can sing along to it like a solo performance. And knowing you didn’t practice before you taped yourself, well, that’s pretty good.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Should I be calling an agent?” He grinned broadly.
“Don’t quit your day job.”
He pretended to pout. Instead of responding, she stood and walked toward the front door. “I should go. You have to get up early tomorrow for work, and I have a long drive home yet. Tomorrow’s volleyball night. Are you coming?”
Edwin followed her. “Wouldn’t miss it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Especially if Gary’s going to be there.”
He accompanied her to the van, chatting the entire time, as if he could draw out the time. Like a gentleman, he opened the door for her, then stood directly in front of her, as close as he could get without touching her. “Good night, Doreen. Glad you stopped by. And thanks for the tape.”
“Good night, Edwin. You’re welcome.”
He rammed his hands in his pockets, more unsure of himself than ever before. At the touch of her fingers on his shoulder, he nearly jumped, but before he could figure out what she was doing, her lips brushed his cheek in a gentle peck, she clambered into her van, and slammed the door. The engine roared to a start, she waved to him from the other side of the closed window, and backed out of the driveway.<
br />
He couldn’t even croak out a good-bye. Stiffly, he waved back, and watched her taillights shrink as she drove down the street and disappeared around the corner.
Did that really happen? He stuffed his hands back in his pockets and plodded back into the house. Maybe volleyball night held more promise than he thought.
thirteen
Doreen sat up with a jolt, blinking to focus her eyes in the darkness. The phone jangled beside the bed. As she groped for it, the blanket fell to her waist. The red light on the clock radio glowed 3:27 a.m. The only time people phoned in the middle of the night was when it was an emergency or a death. Her heart pounded.
“Hello?” she croaked.
“Doreen? It’s Edwin.” He stopped, the silence hung on the line.
Doreen gathered her wits. “Edwin? What’s wrong?”
He cleared his throat, but his voice shook as he spoke. “I’m sorry to wake you up like this. My parents were in an accident this evening, and I’m calling from the hospital.” His voice trembled. “I’m so sorry to call you in the middle of the night, but I need a friend to talk to.”
Doreen’s mind came together in a flash. “Are they. . . ?” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“They’ve been in surgery all night. No one’s told me anything. Doreen, I’m going crazy.” Edwin cleared his throat, but didn’t continue. In the background, a muffled voice called a doctor’s name over the intercom, and the rumble of a cart being pushed down a corridor echoed through the phone.
“I’ll be right there.” She threw the blankets to the side and dangled her feet off the edge of the bed.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll be right there. Are you at General?”
His voice lowered in pitch, becoming husky. “Yes. Thanks.”
Doreen threw on the first things she touched, splashed some cold water on her face, brushed her teeth, let the dog out, and was in the van in four minutes.
