Doug and Carlie's Love Conspiracy (Doug & Carlie Series Book 2)

by Lisa Smartt

  I managed a smile through the tears. “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious.”

  “And what about your perfect family? What would they think about it?”

  “My family is far from perfect. And it’s not their call.” He grabbed my other hand and looked into my eyes. “I’m not seventeen, Clara. I’m a grown-up.”

  And it was like a light had entered the room. Not a bright light. No. Just enough light to take the next step. I looked into his eyes and chose to believe him. On faith. “Okay then.”

  “I’m starved. Let’s ditch the yogurt and get some real food! Sound good?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He stood and hugged me gently. I felt free. Like a weight had been lifted. I never wanted to carry it again.

  We ate delicious pork barbecue and talked about work and the details of the horrible action movie. Neither of us mentioned the earlier conversation. Jake didn’t try to kiss me. In fact, he made no further physical contact with me at all. I’m sure he knew I needed some time. Healing can sometimes come in an instant. But not usually. Usually it’s a process. A painful time-consuming process. After fifteen years, I had only now even begun the process. The process of becoming a woman who could love and be loved. Jake needed to wait for me to give the cues. Thankfully, he was smart enough to figure that out.

  Carlie was once again waiting up at the kitchen table, even though I know she never stays up till 11:00. Jake walked in with me and said his quick “Hello” and “Good-bye.”

  When the door slammed, she said, “Sit and spill it, girlfriend.”

  I laughed and pulled up a kitchen chair. She scooted a bag of Oreos in front of me. “I told him. All of it. He was very understanding too. He said he doesn’t just preach redemption. He believes it.”

  “Well, Glory Hallelujah, Clara. See? I told you he’d understand. Am I a matchmaker or WHAT? Well, I mean, is Aunt Charlotte a matchmaker or what?”

  “Yes, you did well. Both of you.”

  We chatted for a few minutes and then went to bed. My bedtime prayer was simple. “Thank you, God. Thank you.”

  Chapter 36 CARLIE: Throwing Baby Bird Out of the Nest

  Jake picked Clara up early before we even woke up. The fact that I didn’t feel the need to get up and supervise her every move was indicative of her personal relationship growth…or my personal relationship growth in learning to keep my nose out of her business. Doug and I ate lunch at Uncle Bart and Aunt Charlotte’s after church. She had put field peas in the crock pot and then made a big pan of cornbread. Delicious. I figured she knew something because she was unusually cheery and speedy with the lunch prep. She didn’t go digging in the cellar for pickled radishes or take the time to make cole slaw. No. She got busy and got it on the table and that was that. After lunch, Doug and Uncle Bart turned on the news. Uncle Bart proceeded to complain about Congress, the Senate, and the Sheriff in North Carolina who was caught stealing marijuana. Aunt Charlotte whispered, “Meet me on the back porch. We have some detective work to discuss.”

  She shouted over the TV, “We’re in the backyard, boys!”

  They both mumbled something incoherent.

  We sat in old lawn chairs on the back porch. You know, those big green metal chairs that grandparents always have and type A people are always refinishing on Home and Garden TV? Aunt Charlotte never felt the need to refinish anything. I completely agree. If it was finished once, why would we want to finish it again? That’s a misuse of the word.

  I spoke in a loud whisper, “What do you know, Aunt Charlotte?”

  “Raymond called me early this morning. He told us to be patient because they was gettin’ ready to crack a case out there near Dusty’s house. Seems them fellas don’t actually live there. They just use that driveway ‘cause the rent house is empty right now. No one had reported them ‘cept us, but he did recognize the car descriptions. Unless they actually catch the guys with the stuff, it’ll be hard to prove that what they sell is what was in Dusty’s truck. But Raymond told us he felt like they were onto somethin’.”

  “Isn’t Dusty’s trial in a week?”

  “Yeah, but they’ll find somethin’ fore then. Raymond knows the clock is tickin’. He does.”

  “Well, in other news, seems like things are workin’ out really well for Clara and Jake. They’re together again today and she’s going to his parents’ house for the afternoon. Sunday dinner, the works. We did good, Aunt Charlotte.” I reached for her hand. “Real good.”

  Chapter 37 CLARA LOUISE: Perfect Family Dinner

  For the first time in my adult life, I felt comfortable with a man. Mr. Garrison led music so Jake could sit with me on the front row. Jake held the book and I sang, “Amazing Grace.” For the first time in a long time, the words truly resonated with me. This must be what family feels like. Belonging. Not being alone.

  I was terribly nervous about meeting Jake’s family. But he said they were wildly excited about meeting me. He promised I would love them and they would love me back. Trusting Jake was the only option. And that option felt…well, for the first time it felt doable.

  The minute we pulled into the long paved driveway of his family farm, I realized he must have been horribly embarrassed for me when he came to my parents’ house. His home was two-story brick with those big white shutters on all the windows. The lawn was manicured to perfection and there were multiple flower boxes filled with color. A grove of big oak trees surrounded the house. Jake’s family home reminded me of a movie set where a girl might walk out onto the porch in a big antebellum dress. Mom and Dad’s house was small and the faded brown paint was peeling badly on the front of the house. The yard was an overgrown mess. A mess that had long been forgotten. My family home looked like my family. Tired and in the process of giving up.

  His mom stepped out onto the huge porch which was covered with pots of bright spring flowers. She greeted us with a wave and perfect smile. You know those older women who wear a lot of make-up, but not in a gaudy way, in a really classy way? Kind of the way a judge on the Miss America pageant would look. Her clothes would be stylish and all her jewelry would match perfectly. That’s the way Jake’s mom looked. She was tall and a little overweight but I had never seen someone so “put together.”

  Jake reached out for a quick hug and then pulled back and put his arm around me. “Mom, this is Clara Johnson. Clara, this is my mom, Barbara Smith.”

  “Oh Clara, we’re so tickled to have you! Do come in, dear. Jim is in the back with the grill. Andy’s family is here and so is Emily’s. Drew just called. They’re ten minutes away. This is going to be such a great day, Clara.” She reached out to hold my hand. “Oh, Honey, my heart is full.”

  I’ve been alive more than 30 years and I don’t believe either of my parents have ever said, “My heart is full.” Their hearts aren’t full, not even half full.

  If I thought Jake was too perfect, he came by it honestly. His dad was taller than him and ruggedly handsome. He was manning a massive grill with enthusiasm. But he managed to pull away from the project for a friendly hug. He asked if I liked steak, and my answer brought a cheerful, “Atta girl.”

  His orthodontist brother, Andy, was friendly but reserved. He looked a lot like Jake, only not quite as tall. His friendly blonde wife was obviously pregnant, but she wore one of those chic maternity smocks with bright swirly flowers that made her look like a woman from the Macy’s window.

  I liked Emily immediately because she seemed to be more like me. She was thin but wore very little make-up. Her jeans were faded and her tan sweater had a tiny stain near the right shoulder. Her oldest little girl, Mollie, had a few tangles in her beautiful curly hair and the baby, Justin, still used a pacifier even though Jake’s mom kneeled down and said in a high-pitched voice, “Three-year-olds don’t use pacies, Justin. Three-year-olds should act like big boys.”

  Drew’s family arrived with big hugs and an apology for tardiness. Everyone stopped what they were doing to oooh and ahhh ov
er their bald baby Jacqueline, only four months old. Jake and Andy looked like their dad. But Drew was the spitting image of his mother. Brown eyes and darker features than his brothers. He shook my hand briskly. “Clara, you know I must have really wanted to meet you, to come all the way up here during tax season.” He laughed and patted my arm. I expressed my appreciation for his sacrifice.

  The Smiths had a screened-in back porch straight from a Southern Living magazine. A massive table was set with china and plaid cloth napkins. Glasses of ice water complete with the little lemon wedges were at every place. I thought this only happened in movies. But I was wrong. There were real families who lived this way. Real patriarchs who wear expensive polo shirts and grill steaks in the backyard. Real matriarchs who do meal planning and still manage to look like they just walked out of a salon. There were real adult kids who seemed to be happy coming home to visit the folks. No adult kids living in their basement, addicted to video games. No one in prison or rehab. Everyone gathered around a pristine table to hold hands and share a pristine prayer. I thought it was a glimpse of heaven. And it was. Until it wasn’t.

  Jake’s mom led the way. “Clara, tell us all about yourself. Jake said you teach Kindergarteners. What a wonderful and fulfilling job.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I do love it. I’ve been teaching for eight years.”

  “And you’re still not tired of kids? That’s remarkable. Emily, Julie, and Beth are around their kids all day and I know it can become a struggle for these young moms to stay cheery.” She smiled and patted Julie’s hand. “I guess you see that we’re getting another precious grandbaby in June? We’re all so excited.”

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s wonderful. Julie, do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

  “We don’t. And I’m not really sure if I want to know. We’re going back and forth. The biggest struggle I’m having right now is with gestational diabetes. I’ve never had it and this time I do. I’m a little worried about my health and the health of the baby.”

  Jake’s mom was clearly not at peace with the word “worry” being spoken at her dinner table. She patted Julie’s hand again. “Julie, quit fretting now. You’ll be fine, I’m sure. And the new little Smith will be fine too. The Smiths are sturdy stock. Don’t you worry. Clara, I take it you like babies, yes?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Babies are a blessing.”

  “Well, I know you’re getting up in age, but not to worry. Now women are having babies in their 40’s even. Lord, in my day, that would have been a fright.”

  Mr. Smith chimed in. “Seems like yesterday our four were under feet and now they’re all off and on their own. One day you just look up and they’re sittin’ around the table with their own families. A blessing though. A fine blessing.”

  I was in awe. I quietly said, “Yes, sir.”

  Jake’s mom patted his dad’s hand. “I know this much. I will never forget the moment I held each one for the first time. It was this all-encompassing unconditional love, Clara. Four times. But all four times it was the same. This feeling that I would die for this child, gladly give my life for his, that I would do whatever it took to ensure his happiness or safety. I hope that someday you get the chance to know that feeling. It’s priceless.”

  I don’t know what came over me. Was it God or Satan? I have no idea nor will I even speculate. Maybe it was my renewed desire to live free. Honest. I looked at Jake’s Mom and said with a smile, “Actually, I have known that feeling, Mrs. Smith. The feeling of holding my baby and experiencing that rush of unconditional love.”

  Jake looked at me like he’d just gotten called to the principal’s office for something he didn’t do. And he winced like he was getting ready to rat out his best friend.

  Jake’s mom let go of Julie’s arm. “What ever do you mean, Clara? Jake told us you’ve never been married.”

  “No ma’am. I haven’t been married. But I did have a baby once and I understand those feelings you’re talking about. I was almost seventeen, and yes, that overwhelming love? It’s exactly like you described. I would have done anything for him, still would today.”

  Absolute silence doesn’t usually make a noise. But it did that day. No one spoke a word. But in my mind I could hear the loud rush of disappointment flooding the room. Sure, everyone was still eating their steaks or drinking their lemon water. But a bomb had hit that pristine Southern Living table. And though the Smiths are of sturdy stock, they couldn’t endure the impact.

  Jake’s mom took a big drink of water and cleared her throat. “Where is your son now?”

  “He’s with his family in Louisiana. I placed him for adoption. My cousin was in college at LSU. She knew a wonderful couple from her church that had been praying for a baby for years. I got to meet them and everything. I trusted them. Still do.”

  Mrs. Smith pretended to be cutting her steak. Her nose wrinkled as though there were a foul smell. “And you haven’t seen him? In all these years?”

  “No ma’am. I gave them their privacy. I wanted him to have a regular life with a regular family.”

  She looked up as though a train were coming and she was glued to the tracks unable to move. “And the father was okay with that? He just signed over his rights as well? He was fine with giving away his own flesh and blood?”

  “No ma’am. I declared the father unknown. And I didn’t give my baby away either. I didn’t just hand him to someone on the street. I made a plan, a plan that was for his good.”

  Jake bowed his head, rubbed his eyes slightly, and put his napkin by his plate. He glanced at me like he was trying to tell me to end the conversation. But truthfully, the whole conversation felt freeing. Like for the first time in my life, fear was being conquered and truth was winning. Besides, he had already said his family wasn’t going to decide for him. He wasn’t seventeen and they weren’t going to take away his car for dating a formerly promiscuous woman. He was a grown-up. He made his own decisions. And all of this happened fifteen years ago anyway. I had changed. We’d all changed. No mature adult would fault a 32-year-old woman for the actions of a teenager…or a teenager’s immoral neighbor.

  Mrs. Smith stopped eating. “Unknown father? What does that even mean?”

  “It means I didn’t know who his biological father was. I still don’t.”

  Jake spoke up while his face turned beet red. “Hey, Mom, let’s change the subject, okay?” He took a long deep breath. “This whole thing happened a long time ago. Clara is our guest and we don’t want her to be uncomfortable. She doesn’t even know the family yet. So let’s give the baby conversation a rest, huh?”

  His brothers and sisters-in-law looked at me and nodded in supportive agreement.

  “Honey, nobody’s trying to make Clara feel uncomfortable. Least of all me. Clearly, she’s very open about her…well, her situation.” She looked directly at Jake as though she were now scolding him without making it sound like a scolding. “And we all know why she’s here today. I mean, you wanted us to meet her so you must like her. And you want us to like her too, right? We can’t like someone we don’t even know. We’re just trying to get to know her.”

  His dad rose from the table and said pleasantly, “I’m stuffed! Who has room for another steak or potato? We’ve got plenty. And it’s homemade ice cream for dessert out on the deck. Who wants to help with the setup?”

  The kids jumped up and ran outside. Julie and Emily joined them. Jake’s dad grabbed a few plates and patted his mom on the shoulder. “A great meal, Barbara. I love the way you did that asparagus. Delicious.”

  Okay. What was happening here? And how was it happening in a perfect family? Was this some kind of alternate universe? Surely any minute now the furniture would start spinning and I would realize it was all just a dream.

  I had just shared a dark and painful secret. I was hoping for compassion and support. I expected them to respond the way Jake had responded. But Jake’s mom was openly expressing her displeasure with my past and what she probably believed was my p
resent. But that wasn’t even the oddest part. At least she was communicating.

  The oddest part was the rest of the family’s reaction. They were doing regular stuff. His dad was talking about asparagus. The young women were walking outside to watch the kids. Drew stood up to go turn on a ballgame in the living room. It was like we were talking about the weather or something. I knew my family avoided emotions at all cost. But this family? I thought they would have rallied around me. I expected a litany of “That must have been such a tough decision, Clara.” “Bless your heart. I’m sure he was beautiful.” But, no. A lack of perfection had somehow crept into the Smith’s family dinner party. And it would quietly be escorted out.

  Jake stood and walked over to plant a kiss on his mama’s cheek. “That was good, Mama.” He turned toward me and said, “Hey, Clara, let’s go out on the deck and help Dad with the ice cream. Mama, I hope you’ve got chocolate syrup.”

  “Sure do. And some of that caramel too. I’ll get the bowls.”

  My steak was less than half eaten. I never even touched the potato. I noticed the sisters-in-law hadn’t eaten either. I couldn’t help but wonder if the stress was unbearable for them. Did they just sit and go through the motions every time? Did they keep their real lives bottled up so they’d never be on the receiving end of her scorn or disappointment? I had a feeling I’d never know. That I didn’t even want to know.