by Lisa Smartt
“Now, if you mean you want me to feed her, yes ma’am, I’m more than ready to feed the poor girl. A little biscuit and gravy, maybe a few deviled eggs and she’d be fillin’ out that bridesmaid’s dress a lot better, Carlie.” Aunt Charlotte wiped her chubby hands on an old brown dish towel and retrieved a chunk of something from the freezer and tossed it into a bowl of water in the sink. (I didn’t bother telling Aunt Charlotte that my high school Home Economics teacher, Mrs. Lawson, told us to never thaw meat in the sink for fear of food poisoning. Besides, that rule may not even apply to possum.)
“I appreciate your desire to feed Clara, Aunt Charlotte. I do. But I was thinking more in terms of finding a man for her.”
Aunt Charlotte turned from the sink with a jerk. She looked as though the CIA had just asked her to carry out a dangerous and important spying mission. She pulled up a yellow kitchen chair and looked me square in the eyes, “A man? Well, now that may take some doin’, seein’ as how she’s a timid little thing. But I’m all in. What kind of fella you reckon would turn her head?”
“Well, she values education a lot. So he’d probably need to be a college graduate. Not a party kind of guy. You know, solid.”
“Yes, well, let me think about the single fellas ‘round here. Timbo is a fine mail carrier but he drinks too much. There’s a single Methodist preacher out in Sidonia but he done took up with that curly-headed librarian in Union City. Wait, let me think. The new insurance agent on Main Street? No. He’s engaged to some citified girl in Memphis. The basketball coach at the middle school is single but he has a terrible temper. Wait! You know Mabel down at Sammy’s, dontcha?”
“I think so. Does she have the big black beehive hairdo?”
“No, Baby. That’s Delores. Mabel has a great big rear end and short hair that’s been bleached half to death. About 65 years old, those fake white fingernails, and a real sweet smile.”
Aunt Charlotte had the gift of descriptive words. She should have been a writer. “Yes, I know who you’re talking about.”
“Well, Mabel’s grandson was always a real smart young’un. Went away to a bunch of schoolin’, but he’s back in town now. Livin’ in Martin, gonna be a teacher at UT Martin. Just got the job and is supposed to start in January. His picture was in Tuesday’s paper. A math professor, I believe. Yes, that’s it. Whatcha think, Carlie? Reckon we should give it a shot?”
“Sounds good to me. What do you know about his character, Aunt Charlotte?”
“I don’t know Charles very well but now his parents are fine folks. His dad works as a lineman and his mama has done books for the phone company for years. God-fearin’ people, both of ‘em. Southern Baptist, I believe. Or maybe they’s Assembly of God. Can’t remember. But I can find out more, Carlie. Doug went to school with Charles so he might know more.”
“This is sounding very hopeful, Aunt Charlotte. I’ll talk to Doug about it. What does he look like? I mean, is he a pretty decent-lookin’ guy?”
“I mean, he ain’t no Marlboro man, Carlie. He’s not a great big fella. I wouldn’t hire him to chop wood or nothin’ like that. But if you like the cleaned-up kinda fella without dirt under his fingernails, I mean, yeah, he ain’t a bad-lookin’ young’un. The name is Charles Parker.”
“Aunt Charlotte, you’ve been a lot of help. I’ll talk to Doug and maybe we can get this all set up before our Christmas party.”
“Glad I could help, Darlin’. And you tell that husband of yours that his aunt needs to get some lovin’ on ‘em and he don’t want me to have to come down to that bank and embarrass him right there in front of God and ever’body.”
“I’ll tell him, Aunt Charlotte. I will. And thanks again.”
I hugged Aunt Charlotte quickly and almost ran to the car. The excitement level in my brain must have been overflowing because I’m not prone to run. Rather than bothering Doug at work, I decided to lay out the plan in a well-written e-mail that he could read at his convenience after lunch.
1:00 pm
Dear Doug,
I love you. And that love has motivated me to help people like Clara. I talked to Aunt Charlotte this morning and we have a plan. What do you think about Charles Parker? She said you went to school with him. He’s moving back to Martin to be a math professor. Let’s invite him to our Christmas party, yes? And we can invite Clara. Then they can get married and have kids and live happily ever after. When their oldest child becomes a famous Nobel Peace Prize winner for physics or medical research or something like that, Charles and Clara will say, “Oh Doug, we could have never experienced the joy of this moment if you hadn’t stepped out on a limb and invited us both to your lovely Christmas party out on the farm in Sharon?”
I know. Life is sweet, isn’t it? Just promise me you’ll think about it. I look forward to your return home this evening. I have something special cooking for you and it’s not on the stove.
Carlie
2:15 pm
Carlie,
Charles is a good guy. I’m willing to give it a shot if Charles and Clara are both willing. I’m sure you’re not using your incredible sex appeal to get me interested in the matchmaking project. But if you are, it’s working.
Keep things warm at home.
Doug
Chapter 3 CARLIE: Getting Clara on Board
“Hello.”
“Clara, I’m so glad you picked up. Doug and I want you to come to Sharon and see us! We’re having a Christmas party next week and you gotta make plans to come and spend the weekend with us! How about it?”
“I don’t know, Carlie. Are you sure you won’t be too busy? I saw that you’re going on book tour right after Christmas. Don’t you need your downtime?”
“I need some Clara Louise Johnson time. So c’mon, Clara, say you’ll come! I promise to buy new flannel sheets for the guest room. I promise to make homemade hot chocolate every night you’re here. I promise not to cook things that I tend to burn. Oh Clara, you’ll be out of school by then. Say you’ll come!”
“Gosh, you’re annoyingly persuasive, Carlie. Okay. I’ll come. Are you sure Doug doesn’t mind?”
“I’m absolutely sure. But Clara, there is one tiny little thing I need to tell you about before you come.”
“Let me guess. You don’t want me to bring Hobo with me. Don’t worry. My parents can keep him ‘cause he’s on feline antibiotics right now and probably shouldn’t travel anyway.”
“Well, you’re right. I mean, I definitely wasn’t inviting a cat who takes antibiotics to our Christmas party. But that’s not what I was gonna say. Now hear me out and don’t get all crazy or defensive or anything, okay?”
“Oh no. Now I’m worried.”
“No need to worry, Clara. It’s just that, well, we’re inviting a young man to the party thinking that maybe you guys will hit it off. No pressure. Nothing weird or anything. Really. It will be fine. I promise. He’s a good guy.”
Silence from the other end prompted my escalating voice. “Clara? Clara? Clara, stop breathing into that paper bag. This is ridiculous. You’re a beautiful woman. Stop hyperventilating and talk to me.”
“I can’t do it, Carlie. You don’t understand. I’m not like you. I can’t make conversation with someone I don’t know. I’ll be too nervous. It won’t work.”
“It WILL work. Now listen to me, Clara Louise Johnson. Don’t make me drive to Commerce, Georgia, to drag your tiny little butt up here to this Christmas party. Let me tell you how it is GOING TO BE. You are going to drive to Sharon, Tennessee, on December 16th. You are going to drink hot chocolate with me and we are going to talk late into the night. The next day you are going to help me make pigs in blankets and tiny cupcakes for the party. Then that night you’re going to put on the best outfit you have that accentuates your tiny little rear end and your gorgeous red hair. We are gonna do your hair real fancy and you’re gonna wear some make-up, sister. I’m serious. As Grandpa Joe used to say, “If the barn looks better painted, paint the barn.” You are a beautiful woma
n, Clara, and you’re gonna start acting like one. Charlene is a family friend and the local Mary Kay pest, I mean, salesperson. She’s great and will be glad to help us with hair and make-up. Then you’re gonna eat pigs in blankets and drink eggnog and meet Charles Parker. You are going to be nice and engaging and wonderful because you ARE nice and engaging and wonderful. End of story. Any questions?”
“Who is Charles Parker?”
“Well, that’s a pretty fair question, I guess. He’s a decent-lookin’ math professor at UT Martin. He’s single and Doug is willing to vouch for his character. Aunt Charlotte knows his grandma and his parents and swears that they’re all God fearin’ people. So, I think a decent-lookin’ God fearin’ math professor is worth an eight-hour drive, don’t you?”
Silence.
“Clara? Clara, put down your inhaler. I want you to know I’m not really giving you a choice on this. I love you. I love you like a sister. And it’s time for some sisterly intervention. You need to come see us. SO, I’ll be shopping for those extra-soft flannel sheets and we’ll see you next Friday night, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Can’t wait to see you! Love you, bye!”
“You too. Bye, Carlie.”
Whew! Some people sure are hard to motivate. But a win is a win regardless of how messy. Time was now ticking down. I had only a few days to get Charles Parker on board with the plan. Oh, and I also had to learn how to make pigs in blankets. I had a feeling those pigs would be a cinch compared to the matchmaking.
Chapter 4 CARLIE: Executing the Pigs and the Plan
After supper, Doug agreed to call Charles’ mother to see if he’d be in town and willing to come to the party. Of course, I asked Doug to put the phone on speaker while he made the call so I could make careful note of everything she said. All great matchmakers know that effective matchmaking is in the details, the finer nuances of conversation. I needed to listen for certain voice inflections that would help me move forward with the plan. No, it wasn’t just nosiness. Well, maybe.
“Mrs. Parker?”
“Yes.”
“Mrs. Parker, this is Doug Jameson.”
“Doug Jameson, how in the world are you, son? I haven’t seen you since your mama’s funeral. Saw in the paper where you got married to that Georgia girl. Congratulations, Doug. How’s married life?”
“Oh, it suits me real well, Mrs. Parker. Real well. Hey, I heard that Charles is back in town or will be soon. Got the job at UT Martin, is that right?”
“That’s right, Hon. Oh, you can imagine Jim and I are right proud of Charles. Gettin’ the Ph.D. and then movin’ back to Weakley County. Yeah, real proud. He’s got an apartment in Martin but he’s not movin’ in until January. He’s here right now. Would you like to talk to him?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
“Doug Jameson? Hey man, how’s it goin’?”
“Pretty good, Charles. Big kudos on the teaching job. Not an easy thing to get on at a university right out of the Ph.D. program. And UT Martin? That’s great. I mean, we’re glad to have you back here on the home front.”
“Thanks. You know I’d have never made it if you hadn’t helped me in Mrs. Burcham’s Senior English class. You were always her favorite. Hey, I heard you got married. Is that right?”
“I did. She’s a great girl. In fact, I’d love for you to meet her. We’re having a Christmas party Saturday night. Why don’t you come out to the farm for a little Christmas cheer?”
“That’d be good. I need to get out and start socializing again. The Ph.D. didn’t give me much time for that.”
“Okay. You remember where Mom and Dad’s place is, right?”
“I do.”
“Then plan to be here by 7:00.”
By this time I was standing up and doing all sorts of graphic hand motions to communicate the importance of telling Charles about Clara. I could tell Doug was hesitant. But he plowed through his hesitation and came out the other side. What a man!
“Oh, and Charles, I feel like I need to shoot straight with ya, man. Carlie has this friend who is coming up from Georgia. She’s a real nice gal and I think you’d like her. She’s a kindergarten teacher, real pretty. You’re not seein’ anybody right now, are ya?”
“No.”
“Well, no pressure or anything. I just wanted to give you the heads up. I mean, I don’t want you to skip taking a shower Saturday night or using deodorant or anything like that. We all know how you ‘academic types’ can be. No offense.” Doug laughed but it was a nervous laugh and Charles Parker and I both knew it.
“None taken, Doug. Well, hey, I’m always up for meeting a pretty woman.”
“Good. We’ll see ya Saturday night. And welcome back, Charles. Really. Congratulations on the job.”
“Thanks, man. See ya Saturday.”
Doug stepped out of his comfort zone when he made that call to Charles Parker. And I appreciated it. Now we just had to pray that Clara Johnson would be willing to step out of hers.
Aunt Charlotte called and asked if I wanted to use some of her homemade sausage for the pigs in blankets. Doug did his own version of charades. He put his pointer finger to his throat and went back and forth very quickly. “Oh, thanks, Aunt Charlotte. Thanks a lot. But we’ve got it taken care of.”
Chapter 5 CARLIE: Lighting the Matchmaking Fire
Clara arrived exactly when she said she would. 9:00 pm Friday night. She and the Kindergarteners had been released early from school and I’m sure her bags were already neatly packed in her immaculately clean car. I knew all of that because I knew Clara. Everything she did was neat and clean and organized and well-planned. But life was getting ready to get messy. What a relief!
I ran out onto the big wrap-around porch and hugged her like she was a long-lost relative coming home from war. “Clara Johnson, we are so tickled to see you! Get yourself in this house and take a load off.” I was starting to sound like Aunt Charlotte. This was either disturbing or endearing. I didn’t have time to decide which one. Clara wore plain gray dress pants that were creased down the front just like those gray dress pants my grandma wore to church when it snowed or sleeted. A big ugly tan striped sweater swallowed her beautiful body. Her straight hair was perpetually pulled back in a pony tail and her face was washed clean of all color. For the first time in my life, I wondered if she did this on purpose. But why?
“How was your trip, Clara? No problems along the way?”
“No. Everything was fine.”
Doug spoke words of welcome and kindness and I realized Clara was still very nervous around him. Doug was a man. This was new territory for her.
He realized this and excused himself to the bedroom, saying he knew we wanted to catch up on all our girl talk. He was very sensitive like that…or he wanted to watch the football game. Either way it was a win. Even though Clara and I had lived together for four years, we had never had much girl talk. I tried to be open. When we were roommates, I would complain about wanting a man, about wanting to be loved. I would dream aloud about my desire to meet Prince Charming. But not Clara. She was a closed book. Looking back, it was almost like she was trying NOT to meet Prince Charming. She never wore make-up and her clothes were always too big for her petite figure. She never spoke of wanting a relationship. She was like those old-fashioned diaries girls used to buy at the dime store. Each diary had a little lock on the side and a little metal key. But no one had ever found the key to Clara Johnson’s lock. I was determined to start the search.
“So, Clara, are you getting excited about meeting Charles tomorrow night? He sounded pretty jazzed about it on the phone. Really. Said he didn’t have much time for relationships when he was working on the Ph.D. and it would be fun to meet a nice woman.” (Looking back, I’m not sure he used the word “fun.” I may have embellished his enthusiasm a tad bit).
“I don’t know, Carlie. I’m not sure this is a good idea. I’m feeling a little sick at my stomach.”
“Oh, I know. I remember
. I was SO scared when I first met Doug. What would I say? What would I do? I know it’s not easy to meet someone like this. But life is about risks, right?”
“It’s not just that, Carlie. I…I’m not ready for risk. I don’t need a man. I don’t have anything to give a man. I don’t. Trust me. I don’t.”
“Clara, you do! What are you talking about? You’re pretty and smart and well-educated. You’re not out partying night and day. A good man, a solid man would love to meet someone like you. He would.”
“No. He wouldn’t.” Clara started crying. It was the first time I had ever seen her cry. I had cried in front of her many times when we shared an apartment. I cried over my algebra grade. I cried when Jim Flanders rejected me. I cried with frustration because I couldn’t seem to muster any romantic feelings for Dan Carlisle. But Clara? No. Clara never cried about anything. Not one time. Looking back, something wasn’t right.
“Clara, Honey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Is this about Charles? I mean, are you really that nervous about meeting him?”
“No. It’s not about Charles. It’s about all men. And me. It’s about me.” She put her face in her hands and continued crying. “I’m all used up, Carlie. Really. You have no idea. No, Charles Parker doesn’t want me…and neither would Doug…or anybody else. You don’t know what I’ve done. You don’t know where I’ve been.”
“Clara, come on. It can’t be that bad. I mean, I’ve known you since you were a senior in high school. You’re a good girl. An exceptional girl, in fact.”
“Didn’t you wonder why I never had a boyfriend? Didn’t you wonder why no one ever wanted me?”
“Look, you’re shy. I get that. Shy people are often misunderstood. We don’t know whether anyone wanted you or not. You were shy and people stood back a little, that’s all.”
“No, Carlie. No, that’s not it. I have a past. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve already been with a man…with men. Lots of men. I even had a baby.” She held her hands over her eyes like she was in horrible pain. “A beautiful baby boy.”
At that pivotal moment Doug nonchalantly opened the bedroom door and headed to the kitchen for a glass of sweet tea. I was hugging Clara and she was sobbing like there had been a death in the family. I didn’t bother speaking words because by this time Clara Johnson was crying so loudly, she couldn’t have heard my words. Doug glanced over at me but wisely remained silent. I knew how to interpret his facial expression. He was saying, “Oh my gosh, Carlie! What on earth have you done? What have we done? Do I need to call Charles and tell him that the nice girl from Georgia is having a mental breakdown?” I smiled at Doug. I was sure he understood my expression to mean, “Don’t worry, Doug. God’s got this. He does. No worries.”