Another Stab at Life

by Anita Higman

  Then I remembered the heated look in Sam’s eyes as he walked away. The tiniest trembling started at the back of my neck and ran down my spine. The heebie-jeebies made me shiver all over just like when I was little, but I wasn’t a child anymore, and this didn’t really seem like playground antics. I rubbed my arms. But why would Sam choose a message that was so cryptic? Wouldn’t he want to witness my reaction? Or was he watching me now, and I just didn’t know it?

  I pressed in on my temples to release the pounding in my head. If Sam were indeed behind all the trouble, I could ignore him. I wouldn’t open the door to him again, and if Sam chose not to leave the front porch, I could call the police. He’d always had a temper, and he certainly had no problem with breaking and entering or vandalism when it came to my apartment, but would he be capable of crimes more evil in nature? Capable of. . .murder?

  I heard a scratching on the window and jerked backward. Oh. Only a branch tapping against the glass. Getting kind of jumpy, aren’t you, Bailey? I decided to mention the damaged window to Woody G,

  so he could replace it right away. Trying to relax, I took a deep swig of my coffee and then licked off my whipped cream mustache. Maybe I’d read for a while.

  Later that evening, my head still pounded, so I took an aspirin and dropped into bed. I waited for the house to start its usual symphony of pops and creaks. I wondered if I’d stay in the house until I was so old that my moaning joints would be louder than the house’s. What a thought.

  I looked over at Liberty, my faithful beta fish. He gawked at me from his watery world with a bloated expression. I did the unforgivable and tapped on the glass. Was he dead? Wishful thinking? No. I loved beta. Sort of. As much as you can love an aquatic being who’s not very responsive or snuggly. I looked again. No, Liberty was fine. He was just being a beta.

  I fluffed my feather pillow and sank down into its downy delight. Moments later, I felt the night fairies tickling me with their wings. I got really sleepy in spite of all my swirling thoughts and worries.

  I woke up with a start as if my heart were taking off on a launching pad. Did I hear the doorbell? The radiance of the daylight had drenched every crevice of the room. What happened? Did I forget to set the alarm? Was Woody G. at the door with more questions about the repairs and painting? I pulled the covers back and jumped into action. I gathered my hair up with a large clip, threw on jeans and a T-shirt, and ran downstairs.

  Because of the incident with Sam the previous day, I took a good look through the peephole. Dedra leaned in so close to the eyehole, she resembled an ogress.

  “I know you’re in there, you rascal,” Dedra hollered. Yeah. I knew what she wanted—a play-by-play of the blind dates. I opened the door. “Hi, there.” I said noncommittally.

  Dedra stood before me as if she were headed to Woodstock. All she needed was a wreath of baby’s breath on top of her braided hair and a guitar over her shoulder. She put her hands on her hips. “Okay. I need blind date facts and some French roast. Pleeease. By the way, I missed you at church yesterday.”

  “Yes, I’m very sorry about that.” I squinted in the light. “Do you realize what time it is?”

  “Yeah. Eight-thirty and time to get up.” Dedra tapped her watch and grinned.

  She was right. “I’m getting so lazy. What is the matter with me?”

  “It’s called, ‘you had such a great time, you just needed a little extra rest.’ Let’s go, Baileyo. Cough up the details.” She smiled.

  “Forgive me, but I ran out of coffee, and the news isn’t promising.” I placed an affable grin on the top of my pile of negatives to soften the blow. “But please come in.” I decided not to tell her about the most recent incidents, such as the damaged window.

  Suddenly, a teenager ambled up the walk with a bouquet of yellow roses. I’d wondered why there was a florist’s van parked in front of my house.

  “Happy anniversary,” the young man said with gusto, making his cowlick wobble.

  “Hi. I think you must have the wrong house. I’m not even married.”

  The young stranger had a big question mark on his face. “You’re Bailey Walker? Right?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Well, these are for you then. Oh. The customer requested that I read the card to you.” He pulled off the note attached to the bouquet. “It says, ‘Happy anniversary. It’s your first month in your new house. May your home always be filled with friendship, love, and laughter.’ ”

  “Did the card say who sent them?” I prayed the flowers weren’t from Sam.

  “No name on the card,” the teen said. “But it does say, ‘From Your One and Only.’ ”

  Dedra eyed me. “Oh, so there’s juice you’re not letting me sip.”

  I shot her a friendly smirk and then handed the kid a tip.

  “Thanks for the twenty.” He winked at me. “I’ve got four more of these bouquets in the van. . .for you. It’s a good day, right?”

  “Right.” I got wide-eyed like a small child at Christ- mas. I waved my hands like an idiot. Good grief, woman. You’re acting like you’ve never received flowers in your life. Actually, I couldn’t even remember the last time a man had sent me flowers. And certainly never so extravagantly.

  Dedra shook her head. “Yeah. You’ve been holding out on me, big time. So, who is this guy? I mean, he nearly cleaned out a florist shop for you.”

  I paused, but I knew Dedra wouldn’t stand for any more hesitation. “Okay. It’s Max.” It sounded good coming out of my mouth.

  “Oh my. I guess that would be true. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.” Dedra hugged me, but a bit of the spark had left her smile.

  “I haven’t said yes.”

  “You mean he asked you. . .to marry him?” Dedra said. “Really?”

  “Yes.” I bit down on my lip. I could hardly believe it. “He did ask me.” I suddenly remembered Dedra had once dated Max, but their relationship hadn’t worked out. Did she still care for him? Is that why she tried so hard to set me up with other people? I prayed the news wouldn’t cause her to spiral down into a depression. I knew so little about bipolar disorder, I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked with concern. “You seem a little—”

  “I’m fine. Really. I just have a little indigestion from a strange combination of foods I just ate. You know prunes and whipped cream and chili don’t mix.”

  I shuddered, making Dedra laugh. After a few minutes, she perked back up as we situated the bouquets of flowers around the room. The sight looked like either a wedding or a wake. I chuckled to myself as I touched the silky petals. What a heady aroma. I’d forgotten how good roses could make me feel. Oh, Max. How did you know yellow roses were my favorite? I didn’t even know they were my favorite.

  “Did you read all the cards?” Dedra asked.

  “No. I guess I thought there was just the one.” I noticed another card sticking up out of the profusion of yellow and green. “It says, ‘I would be honored if you would allow me to pick you up at ten o’clock today for an outing I’ve planned for us. No crowds. No relatives. Formal attire suggested. Max.’ ”

  Dedra whistled. “Now is that romantic, or what?”

  I waggled my head in agreement. I guess that meant I was going on another date with Max. My goodness. Sucked in by yellow roses and sweet nothings. I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  “Bailey?” Dedra touched my shoulder.

  “Yeah?” I wasn’t sure how long my thoughts had been ruminating on Max.

  “Don’t you think you should start getting ready?” she asked. “Like right now?”

  “Yes. I suppose I should. Especially since it’s formal. Guess I’ll wear my black dress. It’s the only formal one I have. Except for a flowery turquoise gown from a wedding. . .about ten years ago. . .which makes me look like a floral sofa.”

  “I’d go with the black dress,” Dedra said without hesitation.

  I nodded.

  “I think I’
ll go now.” Dedra raised her eyebrows as she walked to the door. “I want a full accounting. Okay?”

  “All right.” I tilted my head at her. “Thanks. For being my friend.” Did those words actually come out of my mouth? Incredible.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Sadness still seemed to linger in Dedra’s eyes. If she did still care for him, I felt badly to say the least. Would I have gone out with Max had I known the depth of her feelings? Was it one more reason for me to say good-bye to him? I certainly understood her heartache, since my best friend had married the man I’d loved. Of course, the circumstances were different with Max and Dedra since years had passed, but it might not feel much differently in her heart. After I hugged her good-bye, I prayed for Dedra again, asking God to give her strength and joy as well as a peace and soundness in her mind. I also asked God to help Dedra find her one and only.

  Later I pounded my way upstairs, wondering if Dedra’s ailment really had been indigestion— wondering if I had once again chosen to see things that weren’t there.

  I shook my head at my own ineptness at being a human being and then turned my attention to making myself as elegant as a thirty-year-old woman could be. I carefully placed my number three face into position and swirled my hair up with tiny silver clasps. I slipped into my little black dress with the thin shoulder straps. And I added some dangly diamond earrings, which looked good with Granny’s necklace.

  I wondered if people could wear such formal attire before six o’clock. I’m sure some etiquette guru had cooked up a rule on it somewhere. But Max had said formal dress. And besides, I was in a diamonds-on- black kind of mood.

  I sat reading the end of my mystery novel, Where There’s Smoke, as I waited for Max. Were my hands perspiring? Maybe I needed to lower the thermostat on my air units. I waved my hands, trying to dry them. Funny how I had never had to fan my hands before the other dates.

  18 – A Fading Dream

  The bell chimed exactly at ten, and this time I looked forward to opening the door.

  “Hi, there,” Max said. He stood before me in a black tux and a grin that set my heart into a schoolgirl flutter.

  I took in a short breath of air and noticed a white stretch limo waiting for us by the curb. I carefully secured the house and turned back to Max.

  He took in his own quick breath. “You look. . . gorgeous.”

  “Thank you. You do, too.”

  Max laughed. What a wonderful sound. I circled my arm through his as we headed down the walkway. Once again, I decided to set my smorgasbord of worries aside. “Do you mind if I ask what the special occasion is? I thought Priscilla said you weren’t the tux type.”

  Max’s eyes filled with tenderness. And maybe a touch of wonder, too. “Well, I guess she just didn’t in- spire me.”

  What a great line. If it’d come from anyone else, I would have thought it too smooth. But not Max. Everything about him appeared earnest. It was hard to do anything but enjoy his company and taste paradise. And his cologne wasn’t bad either. Woodsy and light. “I’m also curious about something else.”

  “Yes?”

  “Why are we going out so early?”

  “Because I couldn’t wait another hour to see you.” Max kissed my hand.

  I raised an eyebrow. That answer gets an A+.

  An older man sporting an official-looking hat opened one of the limo doors for us.

  “Thanks, Jarrett. Hey, I want you to meet someone very special.” Max made the introductions. “By the way, I like your jacket. It’s new, isn’t it?” he asked Jarrett.

  “Yes.” Jarrett winked. “It’s Italian.”

  “I can tell. Well, you can afford it,” Max said. Jarrett’s face broke into an agreeable grin, which, I noted, seemed to radiate not only pleasantness but also a gentle strength. His skin, the color of rich mahogany, glowed youthfully in spite of the deep wrinkles. I became curious as to the relationship between the two men. They appeared to have a close friendship.

  Jarrett shut our door, closing us into a lavish cocoon. I scooted farther into the cushy belly of the vehicle. The leather looked like softened butter, and there appeared to be enough legroom for a pair of pampered camels.

  After giving instructions to Jarrett, Max pressed his hand over mine.

  The weather had been hot, but somehow the temperature suddenly rose another ten degrees. I hoped I wasn’t already perspiring in my dress. “So, where are we headed?” I asked.

  “Certainly not a family party. Just you and me, kid.”

  “Okay.” I relaxed my shoulders and caught myself squeezing his hand back. I let the posh surroundings enfold me. “By the way, thanks for the roses. They’re so many and so lovely. What made you pick yellow?”

  “It just seemed like the right color.”

  “They were the perfect color.” Perfect because Max had bought them and sent them.

  “So, I guess you’ve forgiven me for turning my relatives loose on you?”

  I nodded and then reached up to touch his cheek, fascinated at how I’d surrendered my doubts so easily. He turned my hand over and kissed my palm. That simple gesture felt soothing and stirring all at the same time. I knew we were seconds away from a kiss, and the anticipation was almost as exciting as I knew the actual contact would be.

  Max simply kissed me on the forehead, but continued to hold my hand. “I think we’d better not get started too early.” His warm breath ruffled the tendrils of hair around my face. “I’m having a difficult time as it is just being so close to you, babe.”

  Did I hear him right? Those were almost the exact same words Sam had just said to me. And “babe”? Max never used that word.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked. “You look ill.”

  I shook my head and leaned against him, not wanting to say anymore.

  Max pulled me close, but all my nagging fears rose up again, threatening to tear me away from him. What am I to do? Then two questions came to me clearly— how long would I punish myself by sacrificing love for fears that were unfounded, and how long would I continue to rebuke Max for the sins of another man? Is that what I’d been indulging in?

  Outside the window, the world and all its activities seemed to whirl by us in time-lapse photography. I eased away from Max a little, feeling a surprising need to talk—to tell him more about my past. “I want to tell you something.”

  “What is it?”

  I fingered Granny’s necklace. “As you already know, I’ve been a private sort of person for a long time.” As Max held my hand, I told him the story of Sam and Annie. And then I shared about my dear family and their home-going to heaven.

  Max shook his head with such a sad expression. “It must be hard for you to have any confidence in me,” he said. “You must assume I’m either going to die right away or leave you.”

  “Well, my life hasn’t been a tea party.” I looked away. “One day I just sort of put an Out of Business sign on my heart.”

  Max remained silent. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember Sam ever listening to me. Sam had always talked so much about his own life and career, he’d never really gotten to know me. “You’re going to laugh, but I always had these rules I lived by. Rules that were made to keep people. . .at bay. Right now, I’m too embarrassed to even tell you what they were.” I gently pulled my hand away. “But I’ve always avoided certain things.”

  “Like what?” Max studied me.

  “Oh. . .you know, like women’s retreats at church. I didn’t want to bother with the whole bonding process. Relationships always got so messy and complicated later. I didn’t do get-togethers at the clubhouse at my apartment, and I hated icebreakers of any kind.” I chuckled at myself and my goofy ways, but my sudden openness felt good, so I continued. “And I disliked the greeting time at church. This is terrible, but I always arrived just after everyone had hugged.” I looked at Max, wondering what he was thinking. “And I never, ever volunteered for anything. You know the housekeepers who always say they don
’t do windows? Well, I was the person who always said, ‘I don’t do people.’ At least it’s what my heart tried to say.”

  “So, how in the world did you make it in the real estate business? It’s a people business.”

  “Dedra asked me the same thing. I guess you could say people weren’t lining up to use my services.”

  “You hated it?” Max asked.

  “At times I did. Especially when the couples wanted to tell me their entire life stories. Then they would have an argument and decide to pull their house off the market.” “Well, I think every Realtor has had a few of those.” “But then, after moving here to this house . . .to this neighborhood. . .I don’t know. I see what I’ve missed. So many things. And I see I was living the hardest life of all. Not the way God intended. Without friends. And without. . .” My voice left me.

  Max waited for me to continue, but like the sun that had just disappeared behind a cloud, I allowed the perfect moment to share more of my feelings to vanish. “I’m so sorry, Bailey. Life has been hard on you. I won’t let you get hurt again. I promise,” Max said. “I do love you, and love for me is a commitment as well as a feeling.”

  I smiled and scooted closer to him. “It’s one of the reasons I like you so much.”

  This time Max looked out the window. “Like?”

  I tugged on the sleeve of his tux. “Please don’t give up on me.”

  “I won’t.” Max touched my cheek.

  Maybe I needed to lighten up. “So are you ever going to tell me where we’re headed?”

  “Yes. Galveston Bay.”

  “And are we going to hunt for shells?” I asked. “Well, I think we’re a little overdressed for the beach, but it might be fun the next time,” Max said. “Actually, we’re headed to Somerset Yacht Club. I own a boat jointly with my family there, so we all take turns using it. In fact, lunch is being prepared for us as we speak.”