by Lisa Smartt
Dave was eating cereal and pretending to read the paper. He hadn’t yet said a word. His face looked weathered, like he’d been through a terrible storm. He had, but last night wasn’t the worst of it. No. The storm had been raging for more than a year. Last night was just one windy gale in a long series of windy gales. It’s a wonder he could even stand up straight. I moved toward the table and put my hand on his shoulder, “I love you, Dave Robertson. I loved you the day you married Doug and me. I loved you the day you became Collin’s daddy.” I wrapped both my arms around his shoulders. “I loved you the day you stood up and spoke at Shannon’s funeral. I still remember your exact words.” I stood up straight and spoke though my voice was cracking, ‘Most of you know Shannon was too good for me. And you’re right. I know that. But her love? Her love was a bold and daily declaration that God has mercy on men like me.’ I touched his shoulder and whispered, “And Dave, you were right. God does have mercy. He did. He still does.”
Dave put down the paper. He stood and put his arms around me and cried like he just found out Shannon died. He was still wearing the clothes from last night and he smelled horrible. Jim Beam mixed with body odor and throw up. But I kept hugging him and we both kept crying. Finally, he let go and sat back down. He put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Carlie. ‘Bout last night. It was stupid and…” His sadness quickly turned to a quiet anger. “I mean, what if Collin had been sick? What if he woke up and needed me? What’s wrong with me that I would do that?”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong with all of us? The same thing. We’re broken.”
Doug cleared the table. “Hey man, why don’t you go clean yourself up. We need to leave in about 45 minutes.”
“I don’t think I should go. I mean, what’s that saying about the southerners?…drunk on Saturday night and in the pew on Sunday.”
Doug wiped the kitchen table. “No. I think it’s ‘unbuttoning one’s pants at the Pizza Hut buffet Saturday night and in the pew on Sunday.’”
I chimed in, “Or is it ‘yelling at the kids Saturday night and in the pew on Sunday?’”
Doug smiled, “No, Honey, it’s ‘envying the neighbors’ new SUV Saturday night and in the pew on Sunday.’”
Dave smiled and said calmly, “Point made, you two. I’m hitting the showers.”
At that exact moment Collin called out from his bed, “Daddy, my want my oatmeal.” I waved Dave toward the shower and told him I would take care of Collin. I’m sure he thought I was being kind. But, really. That man was stinking and I was about to throw up my Mini-Wheats. Take a shower, brother. Take a shower.
Ashley had agreed to meet us at church with James in tow. I worried there’d be more photographers and fans in the church parking lot today and I was right. By the time Doug pulled in the lot, it was completely full, and it’s never full. The same two police cars were there and it looked like Jerry Conner had gotten a fresh haircut in honor of the occasion. Jerry’s face was far too round for a flat top, and I considered telling him but Doug suggested that kind of bad news would make him feel deflated, and him feeling deflated would only make him puff his chest out more, and none of us wanted any part of that. Wisdom from a native son of Sharon.
Doug parked in the grass by the graveyard. When we walked up to the church door, Uncle Bart and Brother Dan were having a heated “discussion.”
Uncle Bart was even using hand motions. “I’ll watch the door and keep ‘em out. I know who comes here regular and who don’t come.”
Brother Dan responded as kindly as possible, “Bart, we can’t do that. We won’t do that. It’s Sunday. This is a church. If someone wants to come in, they come in. Now I’m all for you keeping an eye on things, but no, we won’t be turning anyone away, as long as there’s room.” About that time a few teenagers started yelling as Ashley drove our car into the grassy area by the graveyard. Dave bit his lip and looked at the ground.
I grabbed Doug’s arm. “C’mon, guys! Let’s see if Ashley needs help getting James out.” Doug walked arm in arm with me. Dave was carrying Collin and I couldn’t help but notice how well he had cleaned up. Khaki pants and a clean white oxford shirt that wasn’t wrinkled at all. He must have finally taken my advice about buying cotton/poly shirts and pulling them straight from the dryer the minute the dryer stops. If I never accomplished anything else in life, I had at least helped a good lookin’ widower stop looking like he slept in his clothes. Dave’s short blonde hair was darker than when we first met, but like Collin, his eyes were still the same blue. He was broken, but still alive. And still handsome. It was amazing how much Collin looked like him. People who didn’t know Collin was adopted commented all the time about how much he looked like his daddy.
A few teenagers were already at the car by the time Ashley had put it in park. She rolled down the window and told them she’d be happy to sign autographs as soon as she got her nephew out of the car. Nephew. I love it. Ashley wasn’t kin to any of us. But she was right. She was family. She was James’ aunt and he was her nephew.
As she got out of the car, I noticed her clothing choice was perfect for a country church. She was wearing a beautiful red sweater with a black and white silk scarf (not too big and bulky though, thank goodness) and black pants with appropriate amounts of jewelry here and there but nothing that would make her the target of an international jewel thief. Y’see, there’s two major fashion mistakes celebrities make in my humble estimation. Some of them dress so ragged, they look homeless. I don’t get it. It’s almost like they want to prove to the world that they can do what they want. And oddly enough, those ragged clothes are pretty expensive too. The other mistake is when they dress so over-the-top glamorous, it looks like they’re flaunting their money. So, I gave Ashley very sound advice when she became famous. “You should never dress like a homeless person or like Porter Waggoner.”
I told her we’d get James out of the car so she could go ahead and start signing autographs. As I opened the car door, James yelled, “Cowin! Cowin! Cowin is my fwiend, Mommy. Cowin is my fwiend!”
“I know! Collin is a good friend, isn’t he?” I stood next to Dave so the toddlers could exchange their greetings. Collin was showing James a yellow Mustang Matchbox car while James chewed on a pacifier his parents knew he needed to discard. Go ahead and take me out of the running for Mom of the Year. I don’t have the energy to prepare my acceptance speech anyway.
Dave had tried to look away at first but now he was staring at Ashley as she greeted a chubby teenage girl with a hug. At one point, Dave looked over at me and did a half-smile. What’s a half-smile? It’s that smile on the coach’s face when he knows the team is playing as hard as they can…but there’s no way they’re going to win. I think deep down Dave wanted to believe there was a chance with Ashley. But time on the clock was ticking down and he wasn’t within field goal range. And he knew it.
She signed autographs for a few minutes, then said with enthusiasm, “I think church is about to start. So we better get inside.” She moved toward the parking lot where the five of us were waiting. She approached Dave and reached her hand out to Collin. “Good morning, Collin. I think James was excited about seeing you this morning. That’s all he talked about on the way here.” She looked briefly into Dave’s eyes and I’m almost certain I saw sparks. In both their eyes. Dave’s face even turned a bit pink when she touched him on the shoulder.
He looked at Ashley. “Yeah, these two are big buddies.”
Doug reached for Collin. “Come with Uncle Doug, Buddy. You get to go play with James!” Collin happily took the bait. Doug looked at Dave and Ashley. “Carlie and me, we’ll take the boys to the nursery downstairs and meet you guys in the sanctuary.”
Two points for Doug Jameson. I take that back. That smooth move was actually a three-point shot in overtime with seconds left on the clock. I must be watching too much ESPN in airport restaurants.
By the time Doug and I walked into the back of the sanctuary, Mrs. Ida was already pl
aying a very jazzy rendition of Trust and Obey on the piano. I didn’t even know there was a jazzy rendition of Trust and Obey. But the two little candle lighters seemed to sway with the music as they moved toward the front altar. Chrissy Saunders was one of the candle lighters and her grandma stood up and hugged her as she went down the aisle. Sadly, that one act of unbridled affection was a tremendous fire hazard for the entire congregation as Mabel Saunders uses at least a half can of Aqua-Net every Sunday. One false move and the entire church, along with our paparazzi visitors, could have gone up in flames.
The old wooden pews were completely full and Uncle Bart and Aunt Charlotte were busy putting metal folding chairs down the center aisle. I didn’t see Dave and Ashley, but seeing as how the candles had already been lit, Doug and I just sat in two metal chairs near the back. Brother Dan shared a few prayer requests and Aunt Charlotte gave the Sunday School attendance report and asked that everyone keep saving their toilet paper rolls for Sunday School crafts. I confess I didn’t listen well as I was busy scanning the room for Dave and Ashley. Finally, I caught sight of them on the second row on the right side next to Chester. They seemed to be sitting very close to each other. But everyone in the church was squeezed in like sardines. So it was no real sign of affection on their part.
When we stood to sing A Mighty Fortress is Our God, I made careful note of their mannerisms. Matchmaking is all in the tiny details. I know. Ashley said she’s no longer interested in my matchmaking mission. I totally get that. But she only knows what Dave did last night. I know the man he is, the man he wants to be.
Dave held open the book while Ashley looked on. They both sang and she touched her hair a few times, as though she were trying to straighten it. That’s a sign, people. A sign. He’s about 6’1 and she’s 5’8. Not that it matters, I guess. He’s thin, always has been, and stands up nice and straight. She’s a little rounder in a way that makes Hollywood declare her fat…but makes real men turn their heads, and I’ll just leave it at that.
Brother Dan stood. “Let’s take a few moments of silence to confess our sins and relish in Christ’s mercy.” Mrs. Ida started playing The Old Rugged Cross softly in the background, with no jazzy alterations.
I saw Dave bow and put his head in his hands. I know. I’m supposed to have my eyes closed during this part but I felt confident I had been commissioned to make careful note of the important business taking place on the second row. We all might need the information later.
Dave quickly wiped at his eyes with his right hand. And then it happened. It was miraculous. Ashley put her arm around Dave. Right there on the second row of the Salem Ridge United Methodist Church in Sharon, Tennessee. I’m serious. She patted him on the back at first but then she actually wrapped her arm around his shoulder and when she did, he reached over and hugged her. He hugged her during the confession time. Yes, sir. It was clear as day. I saw it with my half-opened eye.
Though neither of them spoke a word, I feel confident he was saying, “I’m sorry I drank too much last night.” And she was saying, “There is mercy.” I think she also said, “I like you, Dave.” But I couldn’t be sure.
A few times I noticed Dave and Ashley’s eyes meeting while Brother Dan talked about King David.
By the time Chrissy Saunders and her friend had extinguished the candles on the altar, another flame had started burning on row two. Chester and Mrs. Ida probably had no idea they were sitting next to a red hot flame of love. I know. That may be overstating it a bit. My overstating tendency is a weakness I’m determined to work on…but not until the matchmaking project is over.
As we filed out of church, a few reporters took pictures. One older balding man asked Ashley if the reports were true about her carrying twins.
“Wow, someone must be busy night and day making this up. No. It’s not true. I’m not pregnant. I’ve never been pregnant. I’m just chubby.”
Pointing to Dave, the reporter shot back, “And this guy? Is this your boyfriend?”
“No. He’s just a friend. We’ve been friends for a long time. He’s Doug and Carlie Jameson’s cousin and that’s how we came to know each other.” Ashley looked unusually intolerant of the growing crowd. She raised her voice, but not in anger. “Look, I’m ready to call it a day, okay? Let’s let these good people have some peace.”
Doug had already gone out the basement door and pulled his truck around by the back as a swarm of reporters had gathered around our car in the graveyard next door. He came back up through the church and asked Ashley and Dave to come back in the sanctuary for a few minutes to help with the boys. When they stepped into the vestibule, Jerry Conner and Uncle Bart closed the door behind them.
Doug handed Dave the truck key. “We’ll get both boys. Some kind of word got out and there are already reporters at our house. Go down through the back door of the basement and take Ashley to Dusty and Clara’s house.
As parishioners left, more reporters pulled into the church parking lot from across the street. Several photographers on motorcycles were waiting at the edge of the church driveway. A group of men and women were crowding in on the sidewalk in front of the church. Some were yelling out ridiculous questions about her love life and the contract she signed for the new movie. Brother Dan walked outside and kindly said to the group, “I don’t think Miss Harrison wants to talk anymore. Why don’t you guys leave her alone for today?”
Brother Dan might as well have been speaking to a room full of four-year-olds tanked up on red Kool-Aid and cotton candy.
Chapter 14 CARLIE: The Great Escape
Doug’s escape plan was noble. But it didn’t work. Dave looked out the window and saw that reporters were on all sides of the church. Jerry Conner came into the sanctuary and said he was gonna declare some kind of legal injunction from the city of Sharon. But Aunt Charlotte said, “I declare! Jerry, let me take care of it. Those people have had no raisin’!” Because most people in Sharon were afraid of Aunt Charlotte after what she did at the Kiwanis Pancake Breakfast in ‘07, he let her have a go at it.
She marched out the front door and climbed onto a metal chair which made the chair dent a little in the middle. She waved her chubby arms in the air like she was trying to flag down a plane. “We welcome all of you to Sharon, Tennessee! We do! Sharon is a lovely little town! Oh, and while you’re here all ya’ll need to go down to Sammy’s Sandwich Emporium. He’s a good man and he’s got a delicious hot ham n cheese that’ll melt in your mouth. Or if you was raised in the country, he has an open-faced roast beef sandwich with homemade gravy that’ll remind you of your grandma. Sure enough.” She pointed at one portly photographer. “You look like you love gravy, Son! You would love that sandwich. Okay. But the one thing we don’t want you to do is stay in this parking lot buggin’ the rest of us. You’re makin’ us hate city people and we don’t want to hate ya. Well….maybe some of us do, but ne’er the less, if you had a mama at any point in your life, well, she’d be ashamed of you right now.” Her voice grew louder, “Ashamed, I say! Now get on outta here before your mama finds out you was tormentin’ a sweet girl like Ashley.”
Those of us inside the sanctuary felt confident no one would leave. But we were wrong. A few people were either moved by Aunt Charlotte’s speech or they craved roast beef and gravy. The crowd thinned a bit.
Jerry Conner was pacing in the back of the sanctuary trying to look official while calling someone in Nashville. Ashley was playing patty cake with James and Collin on the back pew. She looked up at Dave. “Everyone told me to hire a security guard. I thought it was crazy.” She did the half-smile. “I guess it wasn’t so crazy.”
Dave reached for her hand. “This is ridiculous. Let’s just go. It’s not like they can shoot us or anything. Let’s just plow through the crowd and be done with it.” We knew he was right. That’s what famous people always did. The only reason we were all cowering in the sanctuary is that none of us had any experience with plowing through people. All of us had plowed through a field, but that was a d
ifferent operation altogether.
Ashley looked up from the patty cake, “It’ll just get worse. They’ll follow us to your house. I need to get back anyway. I should just go on to the airport.”
Dave jumped at the chance. “I’ll take ya. To the airport, I mean, if you decide to do that. I’ll drive you, if Carlie can keep Collin?” He glanced my direction and shrugged his shoulders.
Jackpot. “Absolutely! You kids go on and Doug and I will feed these two little pirates and put them down for a nap.”
Doug reached into his pocket and handed Dave the keys. “Here, take my truck. We’ll drive the car home. Ashley, what are we supposed to do with the rental car?”
“I’ll call the company and have someone come get it.” She handed Doug some bills. “Can you just have my stuff shipped? There’s just the one red suitcase. Carlie knows how to get it together.”
I jumped in, “Look, you guys, don’t worry about a thing. We’ll ship your stuff. Ashley, you know I love ya. Come back soon, please? And don’t let this craziness get to you. You’ll find your way. It may just take a while to outsmart ‘em.”
Ashley reached out for a hug, “For sure. Oh, and I’ll come back too. This is like a second home and these guys aren’t going to keep me from it. And you, you’re going to Spain in a few weeks, Si?”
“Si.”
“Have fun.” She reached down and patted James’ head, “And take care of my baby.”
“We will.”
Dave gently picked Collin up and looked into his eyes. “You get to go to James’ house, Buddy! Be good. Do what Aunt Carlie and Uncle Doug say, okay?” Collin leaned into his daddy’s chest for a hug. It looked just like a scene from a Father’s Day Hallmark commercial. Beautiful.
Ashley patted Collin on the back. “You’re a great kid, Collin. I’m glad I got to see you.”
