“Will you work with me here?” Lorraine interjected, shaking her head once. “I was thinking about a fruit and vegetable platter with exotic —“
“Who peels those baby carrots anyway?” Connie scowled as she pulled a bag of M&Ms from her purse, tore it open then shook a few into her mouth.
“Can you be serious for two minutes? I have to organize most of the wedding details myself. Randy's not much help with the preparations. He's so busy and all. He's always busy lately. Oh, don't let me forget, I have to call about his tuxedo.”
“You're doing fine. You're so organized and you still have almost three months to go. I'll help you.” Connie tore a packet of sugar open then poured it into the remainder of her tea and stirred. “So, Lorraine, if you really want to get serious, what were you dreaming about back at the boutique?”
“At the boutique?”
“Yeah, you know. The boutique we just left. You can't fool me. We've been friends long enough for me to know when something’s up.” Connie bit her lemon slice and winced. “What's going on in there?” She pointed her spoon at Lorraine's heart.
“What do you mean?”
“You weren't dreaming about your wedding day, were you?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I was,” she said, shielding her eyes from the sun, and Connie. Lorraine shifted in her chair and sighed. “Did you ever have the feeling that things were perfect on the outside, but something was missing on the inside? You know. That little voice inside of you that says you're on the right track, or the wrong track. Maybe it's just wedding jitters.”
“So what's the problem? You love Randy, right?”
Lorraine raised her eyebrows. “Who doesn't love Randy?” Her voice cracked. “His patients love him. My parents adore him. The nurses swoon over him so much, that with the slightest wave of his wooden depressor, he could have any one of them wagging their tongues behind him.”
“That's not what I asked you. I don't want other people's opinion of him. I want yours. What I meant was, do you love him like a woman loves a man, like a wife loves a husband?”
“I wouldn't be marrying him if I didn't, now would I?” There was hesitancy in her voice, but she continued, “I don't know, Connie. I just don't feel that extra special something from him. I know that he cares about me, and he has so much to offer, and he's a perfect gentleman holding doors and pulling out chairs for me, but he would do the same things for an elderly lady with blue hair.”
Lorraine flagged the waiter for the bill. “I want the sought after special that you read about in romance novels. The crazy about you kind of love where the man does out-of-the-ordinary things because you're his one true love.” Lorraine opened her compact, checked her face and then snapped the lid closed. “There’s no pizzazz.”
Connie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. No what?”
“You know, spark, crackle, sizzle.”
Connie raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. “A skillet of bacon does it for me.” She grinned then cleared her throat when Lorraine scowled at her. “Seriously, what do you mean? The man is straight out of GQ magazine.”
Lorraine sighed and groaned at the same time. “Maybe I’m expecting too much, especially since things are strictly platonic until we’re married.” She lifted her chin toward the sky and closed her eyes as though dreaming, then suddenly flashed them open and leaned forward, splaying her hands on the table. “Don’t you love to read a novel or watch a movie where the man stands in the rain just to get a glimpse of the girl he adores? Or how he holds her hand or sits with his arm around her so everyone knows that she’s the love of his life? I once saw a movie where the hero bought a beautiful dress for his soul mate, and when she came down the stairs wearing the dress, he almost fell over backwards in awe. Wouldn’t you love to have a man like that?” Lorraine tilted her head to one side, lowered her eyes, and lifted her lips in a wistful smile.
“Okay, okay! I get the drift,” Connie said, fanning herself with her napkin. “I'm still single, remember? Don't remind me of what I'm missing.”
“But I'm missing it too,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Oh, my, did I just say that out loud?” She exhaled audibly and shook her head. “Don’t misunderstand. Randy's a wonderful man, but sometimes I think he's more in love with the challenge of his job than he is with me. It's ironic. Dylan hated his job and didn't go some of the time. Randy loves his job and won't leave most of the time.”
“So what about Dylan? This is the second time today that you've mentioned his name.”
Lorraine opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. “What about him? He's impossible.” She tossed two dollars on the table then stood and grabbed the bill.
FIFTEEN
Lorraine signed for the package that the deliveryman held. “I wonder what this is,” she said, turning to her mother while giving the box a gentle shake. “It's too early for a wedding gift.” She set the package on the table, then pulled the tape and opened the box to find a gift inside, all wrapped and tied with a golden bow. She pulled the ribbon and tore the wrapping then dug into the mounds of tissue paper like an excited child on Christmas morning. “Whatever’s in here sure is buried,” she said with mounting anticipation. But when she finally reached the prize inside, she took a startled step backwards. For there amid the tissue paper, staring back up at her, lay a porcelain doll in a red velvet dress.
Her mother rushed over for a closer look. “Oh, Lorraine! It's beautiful!” She nearly sang out her approval while clasping her hands to her chest. “It looks like the one you had when you were a little girl,” she added with fervent glee.
“It certainly does now, doesn't it, Mother? My, my, what a coincidence! Well, it's going back!” Lorraine stuffed the tissue paper back into the box to cover the ogling doll.
“But why, dear?”
“Because it's from Dylan!”
* * *
Dylan leaned on his rake and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the length of his arm. Barely into the month of July and the mercury had hit the ninety degree mark for the third day in a row. His gaze slowly drifted to the west, where a billowing cloud of dust churned down the road toward his house. He strained to see who was causing the midday maelstrom and it didn’t take long before he found out. A blue Ford slammed to a halt at the edge of his yard when Lorraine shoved the car into park. She opened the door, flung it shut, and then trudged toward Dylan. Her hips swaying in perfect symmetry like the clapper of a bell clanging out a fearful warning.
Dylan’s senses kicked into full alert as he sprang to life at the sight of her. Oh...my...Lord, there she is! Oh, she’s so beautiful! Oh, Jesus, my heart, my heart. His heart pounded and nearly beat from his chest. Time stood still as he watched her determined steps nearing. He breathed short, nervous breaths and thought that he’d died and gone to heaven. It’d been so long since he had seen her, and he stared, burning her image into his brain as his gaze glided over her delicate form. The breeze ruffled her long golden hair and it bounced like that of a shampoo commercial. Her blue eyes flashed like glittering sapphires. Her mere presence could melt ice to a drippy puddle. What a fool he'd been to let her go. He should have gone after her, Crawled if—.
Smack!
The slap nearly spun his head around. No, he didn't see that coming, but it sure snapped him out of his reverie. He wanted to ask if she'd been working out.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lorraine demanded, shaking the doll in front of her, its little porcelain head a-bobbing. “I don’t hear from you for over a year-and-a-half, I'm making wedding plans, finally getting on with my life, and now you send me a peace offering!”
He didn't respond, but scrunched up the side of his face, while rubbing his cheek to make sure that she’d finished venting.
“Don't try to make amends after all this time to ease your guilty conscience! It’s too late! Take this back!” She shoved the doll at Dylan with such force that he lost his balance and tripped over the rake. He ins
tinctively reached out to catch himself and snagged Lorraine's arm in the process. He yanked her forward and she tumbled down on top of him with a yelp, as they both fell sprawling into a mound of grass clippings.
Her hair brushed against his cheek and he could smell her sweet perfume. It had been so long since he’d held her and he wanted to keep her, to hold her forever. He wrapped his arms around her waist, intending to never let her go. He wanted to steal her, to lock her away, to tell her what a fool he'd been. He wanted to beg at her knees for forgiveness and make her to come home to him.
But he couldn't. It wasn't His way. Lord, help me to let her go and do things your way. A brief moment passed. Too long for her, too short for him, and when the spell finally lifted, he said, “Well now, isn’t this cozy?” Dylan grinned like a hyena.
Lorraine growled like a bear.
Dylan relaxed his hold, but they were so close that the words he whispered nearly touched her lips. “We’re not divorced yet, Lorraine. For three more months, you're still my wife.” He spoke with such bold intensity that Lorraine sucked in her breath and scrambled to her feet, while he tried to help her up.
“I don’t need your help!” she said, slapping his hand away and then brushing grass clippings from her hair.
Obviously shaken, she straightened up and smoothed her dress then squared her shoulders, and said, “Three months won’t come soon enough! Don't waste your money on gifts for me. I'm sure you need it more anyway.” She gave her dress a final whisk to remove a clinging blade of grass.
“I’m doing okay,” Dylan said calmly.
“Yeah, right. I’ll bet you are. That’s why you were in the hospital all gouged up.” She jammed her fists on her hips. “They should have stitched up the hole in your head when they fixed the hole in your stomach!”
Dylan felt the pain return as her words now sliced through his heart. But why would she think otherwise? She had no idea of the change that had taken place in his life. “How do you know I was in the hospital?”
“For goodness sakes, Dylan, have you been on another planet for the past eighteen months? What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? Sitting around waiting for you? Playing checkers? Twiddling my thumbs?” She stopped to stare at him for a moment and then her mouth fell slack. “You don’t know that I went to college, do you? I'm a nurse at Mercy General. I took care of you while you were there.”
Dylan raised his eyebrows and almost fell over backwards. He shook his head to clear his mind, and said, “You what? Are you serious? No, I didn't know! You took care of me?”
“Yeah, well you were sleeping or hung-over or whatever. You didn't even know I was there.”
Again, he stared at her in shock, but once he recovered from the revelation, he said, “Regardless of what you saw or think, I'm a Christian now. When you saw me, I had recently given my life to Christ. I made a bad choice that night, but I've learned from it.”
Lorraine now stared in disbelief. “You? A Christian? Ha!”
Cynicism, not what he’d expected, but he understood. “I'm a member of the Green Valley Church. I have a full-time job doing carpentry, and my eyes have been opened to many of the things that I’d been blind to—like the importance of marriage.”
“Oh, please! Don't give me that mumbo-jumbo!”
“I've never stopped loving you, Lorraine.” Dylan’s voice was soft when he spoke. “I need you. I want you to come home.” He slowly reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.
“Home? And where would that be? Here? In the lap of luxury?” She swept her hand toward the house. “I don’t think so. You were too busy drinking with your friends to make this a real home.” Lorraine stamped her foot and turned her back to him, as her hand reached to her face.
When she spun back around, she asked, “Whatever happened to your good old buddy Buck anyway? You still see him, don't you? Buck, the great guy who breaks wind and strains mashed potatoes through the gaps in his teeth as supper entertainment. Buck, who rumbles and toots like a one-man-band from every possible orifice. Ugh!” She rolled her eyes. “Were the guys so important this past...?” She didn’t finish, but closed her eyes and turned her face away, then immediately snapped it back to him. “Oh, and I almost forgot the other thing that you cared so dearly about, your stinking fishing! Face it, Dylan, you blew it!”
Dylan wanted to crawl under a rock and hide, but instead, he said, “I know I've made mistakes, but I've learned from them. I don't see any of my old friends anymore. I've made new ones, real ones now.” He reached for her arm and held it lightly. “And I've already told you that I don't drink anymore. I still like to fish because it helps me relax and I like to eat them, that’s all. Come with me, and you'll see what I mean.”
She jerked her arm from his hand. “I'd rather have my teeth drilled!”
“I sense a bit of animosity,” he said, trying to lighten things up. Of course, she had every right to be angry with him after all that he had done. He was actually glad that she was getting things out into the open. It would help her heal.
“Maybe in a couple of weeks,” he said with a faint smile.
“I...I...have to go now,” she stammered, while turning to her car.
And as he watched her walk away, he whispered, “Till death do us part.”
SIXTEEN
The two weeks had stretched into two months and still no sign of Lorraine. Not that he thought she would take him up on his fishing offer, but he had hoped that by some miracle, she would someday show up at his door. Not seeing her for over a year-and-a-half was painful enough, but it seemed even more gut-wrenching after seeing her that day.
It was probably for the best at the time, for her sake anyway. In the two months since he’d seen her, he’d realized what a rookie he was in the Christian maturity department. Not that he’d grown into a full-fledged armor bearer in the army of God, but each day that he walked with the Lord, he’d learned something more, overcome something more, and deepened his reservoir more. Sitting in church and hearing Pastor Jacobson’s messages and attending Doug’s Bible studies gave him renewed strength and fortitude, which coupled with his own daily reading of the Scriptures and prayer, built him up spiritually and increased his faith daily.
After the Sunday morning service, hot dogs and hamburgers were cooked outside on the grill for the church’s annual Labor Day picnic. The threatening clouds nixed any hope of eating outside, so everything was set up indoors. Potato and macaroni salads, beans, pickles and olives, and an assortment of pies overflowed the buffet tables.
The recreation hall was filled with chatter and laughter as children scampered among the tables and chairs that had been neatly arranged in cozy clusters, so people could converse in a homey-like setting. Pastor Jacobson buttered a slice of banana bread as he looked across the table at Dylan, and asked, “You’ve heard that Walt Jenkins’s heart is giving him trouble, haven’t you?”
“I heard that he wasn’t feeling well, but I didn’t know it was his heart. I’ll be praying for him.” Dylan scooped up a forkful of potato salad.
“We’re setting up a visitation schedule,” the pastor said. “We’d like people from the church to check in on him every few hours. Would you mind paying him a visit, maybe praying with him, and encouraging him?”
“Of course, I can stop by his place after work tomorrow.”
“Actually,” Pastor Jacobson said slowly, “he’s at Mercy General. They admitted him yesterday.” The pastor didn’t look up, but pushed his beans around the plate. “Are you okay with that?”
A thrill ran through Dylan at the thought of being so close to Lorraine again, but he stopped his dreaming and refocused his thinking back to Mr. Jenkins and his needs. “That’ll be fine. I’ll stop by to see if Mrs. Jenkins needs anything too.”
“You can use my car since you got your license back.”
“Thanks. I pick mine up next week.”
“Good for you.”
When Dylan finished his meal, he pushed hi
s chair away from the table and walked toward the coffee urn to refill his cup. Halfway across the room, Denise intercepted him, holding a plate of chocolates out in front of her. “Hi Dylan! Would you like a piece of sponge candy? I made it myself.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Dylan said with a grin, while picking a chocolate up from the plate and popping the whole thing into his mouth. He naturally assumed that he’d chew it up and swallow it down in one fell swoop as he’d done in the past with great success. But when the caramelized sponge fused to his teeth and glued them together, he was in a quandary as to what to do next.
“Do you like it?” Denise asked with innocent eyes, wide in anticipation.
He tried to answer, but only managed a few garbled moans. He attempted a polite smile, as he wiped the chocolate saliva that dribbled from the corner of his mouth, and nodded, hoping that would suffice for lack of conversation, all the while trying to pry his jaw apart without making a spectacle of himself.
“I have plenty more if you’d like to take some home.”
Now he was committed by default, unable to answer yes or no, so that before he knew it, her kindness had brought forth a small paper plate filled with the sticky dainties all covered with aluminum foil.
When she handed him the plate, the look in her eyes told him that the gesture was more than a token of Christian kindness. She smiled up at him and twirled a lock of hair around her finger, as she tipped her head to one side, and said, “I hope you like them.”
Thankful that his jaw was now free, he said, “Why, thank you, Miss Benson. They’re so delicious it almost seems sinful to eat them.” And with that he bowed away and headed toward the coffeemaker, while she stood beaming like a headlamp.
Dylan set the plate on the table and pulled the lever on the urn to fill his cup. He scooped up a spoonful of sugar, poured in some milk, stirred and then leaned against the wall to survey the people in the hall. Everyone seemed happy. He was happy too. And although his life wasn’t exactly what he’d hoped, he had a peace that everything would be okay.
The Missing Piece (Inspirational Love Story) Page 12
