On Thursday morning a young woman with a blond ponytail came through the door and whizzed past the receptionist desk without slowing down.
“Hey.” Lindsay jumped from her seat and followed the intruder down the hall. “You can’t go back there.”
The woman stopped and turned. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes! Customers aren’t allowed—”
“I’m not a customer. I work here.”
Hearing the commotion, Matthew came from his office. “It’s okay, Lindsay, Barbara’s my surgical assistant.”
“Isn’t she kind of young?”
Matthew laughed. “Barbara’s a student. She’s studying veterinary medicine.”
“Oh.” Lindsay turned back down the hall.
For nearly five hours Matthew and the attractive blonde were sequestered behind closed doors. Every so often he would carry out a groggy-looking animal, place it in one of the special cages then take another dog or cat from its cage and carry it into the room. Not once did Barbara come out. That afternoon as Lindsay sat alone at the reception desk, she found herself wishing she’d studied veterinary medicine.
In that first week Lindsay noticed any number of things about Matthew, but the thing that surprised her most was what she noticed about herself. She liked it when he bent over her desk to explain something or when his hand brushed against hers. On Friday as she was driving home Lindsay stopped for a red light and discovered herself picturing him as he stood talking with her. He was leaning back ever so slightly, his arms folded across his chest, and his head tilted at an angle that said, “I’m just as interested in you as you are in me.” She was thinking of the laugh lines that crinkled the corners of his eyes when the light changed and the driver of the Pontiac behind her blasted his horn.
“Okay, okay,” Lindsay grumbled and moved on.
On Sunday morning when she sat down to breakfast with her father and Eleanor, Lindsay peppered the woman with questions about Matthew. What kind of women had he dated? Did he have any special interests? Hobbies, sports maybe? What sort of movies did he like?
“Movies?” Eleanor laughed. “Why, I have no idea. I don’t think we’ve ever once discussed movies.”
When John excused himself and left the table, Lindsay stayed. With him gone she could see Eleanor as an individual, not an appendage of her father. Eleanor, she’d discovered, was a person she could enjoy talking with—as a friend, not as a stepmother.
“I’m kind of rethinking this Matthew thing,” she said. “Since I’ve gotten to know him, he seems more my type.”
“I don’t know if a person is capable of sticking to the exact type they’re looking for,” Eleanor said. “Love, unfortunately, is blind. You go through life looking for a tall skinny man and end up marrying one who’s short and wide. But at the time, your heart convinces you he’s the one who’ll bring you a lifetime of love and happiness.”
“I suppose that could be true,” Lindsay mused.
“Oh, it is,” Eleanor said. “I know for a fact because it happened to me.”
“You mean with Dad?”
“No, my first husband, Ray’s daddy. Most of the fellows I dated were big and athletic so I figured for sure I’d marry someone like that, but when Raymond came along I was so enthralled with how smart and charming he was I never even noticed he was only two inches taller than me and skinny as a rail.”
Lindsay laughed. “He wasn’t athletic?”
“Good gracious, no. Raymond was an actuarial.”
“What’s an actuarial?”
“Someone who figures the odds on how long people are gonna live.” Eleanor hesitated a moment then shook her head sorrowfully. “It’s sad because Raymond was so busy thinking about other people he never once took a look at himself.”
“He died young?”
Eleanor nodded. “Forty-seven.”
“Oh, that is sad.” Lindsay waited a moment then went on to note how fit her father was. “Dad used to play football, but now it’s mostly golf and racquetball. He’s definitely the athletic type.”
“I know.” Eleanor sighed, trying not to show the regret of their lost years.
If Lindsay caught the echo of melancholy, she made no mention of it and went on to ask a dozen more questions. “How did you know you were in love with Raymond?”
“It’s hard to say,” Eleanor replied. “Love is the kind of thing that sort of sneaks up on you. I was a college intern working at the insurance company where Raymond—”
“You worked for an insurance company?”
Eleanor nodded. “It was only for five months but—”
“Me too! Seaworthy, in New York. It was the most boring job ever.”
“I bet it was. To me, the insurance business was just an endless string of numbers. I liked going to work because I got to see Raymond, but that was the only reason.”
“Did you work after that?”
“Did I work?” Eleanor laughed. “I’ll say I did, for twenty-five years straight.”
Lindsay sat there asking question after question and once she’d learned everything there was to know about Eleanor’s life, she segued into asking about Ray. When it turned out that his life seemed rather uneventful, she came back to Matthew.
“What was he like when he was a kid?” she asked.
“Kind of quiet. Polite to grownups. I remember how he brought home every stray dog or cat he came across. Once he even brought home a three-legged squirrel.” Eleanor chuckled. “And then Gracie had to find all those animals a home.”
“Gracie was his mom?”
Eleanor nodded. “She was Raymond’s sister.”
As they sat there talking, it seemed that every answer led to another question and then another and another. The breakfast dishes were still sitting on the table and Eleanor was busy telling how she and Gracie used to take the boys to the beach when John walked in and asked how long it would be before lunch was ready.
“Lunch?” Lindsay replied glancing up at the clock. It was twelve-forty. “Dad, Eleanor just finished making breakfast. You can’t expect her to turn around and make lunch! Give us a few minutes to clean up here, and then we’ll go out to eat.”
“Okay,” John answered. As he turned back to the living room he mumbled something about how he’d been thinking of those hamburgers at Hooligan’s anyway.
“Let me know when you’re ready,” he called back.
Eleanor caught the “we” in Lindsay’s words; she’d been included in that we. It was all she could do not to grab hold of the girl and hug her, but it wasn’t time for that yet. Their relationship was still so new, so fragile. Squeeze too hard and it could crumble to pieces. As Lindsay carried the dishes to the sink Eleanor offered to finish up.
“I’m already dressed,” she said. “Go take your shower and get dressed.”
“You sure?” Lindsay asked.
“I’m sure.” Eleanor had already turned to the sink, and Lindsay didn’t see the smile that lit her future stepmother’s face.
~ ~ ~
Now you can understand what I’ve been saying. It’s obvious: Eleanor has always been in love with John. Okay, she made a mistake and allowed herself to become infatuated with a skinny bad-tempered male. It happens. He was a shallow individual, but he knew how to dazzle a woman. Eleanor’s only fault is that she’s human. I’m more to blame than her. I’m the one who allowed her to slide off the radar. If I’d been watching, she would have come to her senses long before Ray Junior was on the way. Once she held that baby in her arms, it was too late.
For years Eleanor tried to convince herself that John was nothing more than a wonderful memory. The thought of him would come to mind, and she’d brush it away as something she was better off forgetting. There were times when she even believed it, but I always knew the truth. Don’t forget, I can see into the deepest core of a person’s heart so I know what someone is feeling even when they refuse to admit it.
Hopefully you can see why I’ve got to make this work
. It’s my last chance to right this wrong. I haven’t come up with a plan to take care of Ray yet, but I’m using everything I’ve got on Lindsay so stand back and watch the action.
~ ~ ~
That evening when John and Eleanor settled in the living room, I pushed Lindsay toward the computer in the den. I planted the thought that she should add “a love of dogs” to her resume. When the icons on the home screen were loaded, she double-clicked Microsoft Word then double-clicked Resume.doc.
Lindsay moved faster than I’d anticipated, so there was a blank screen for a few moments before my image of the dog popped up. I knew exactly what she’d do, and she did it. Before I pulled the picture back, she clicked Print.
The printer came to life and began whirring, but by then the image of the dog had been replaced by the resume. Seconds later a sheet of paper shot out of the printer. Lindsay reached for it almost certain it would either be a blank or the first page of her resume. Of course, it was neither. It was a picture of the dog.
“It must be imbedded in this file,” she murmured and then clicked Print for a second time. A copy of her resume rolled out of the printer. Three times she tried closing the file and reopening it, and three times she got nothing but her resume. By the time she finally decided it was useless, she’d printed the resume nine times. She then made ten copies of the single picture she’d gotten.
Although Lindsay did not mark the original she’d printed, she took a thick black Sharpie and wrote her message at the top and bottom of each copy. At the top she wrote, “If you see this dog, please call…” At the bottom she added her telephone number. She then grabbed her purse, a hammer and package of carpet tacks that had been in the top kitchen drawer for as long as she could remember and started for the door. In the living room she stopped to show the poster to Eleanor and her father.
“See,” she said. “This is the dog I’ve been telling you about.”
Still somewhat puzzled, Eleanor said, “Oh, so you had this dog when you lived in New York?”
“No. Pets weren’t allowed in the building,” Lindsay answered. “But I know this dog, and it’s the one I want to get. I just don’t know where to find—”
“Wait a minute,” John said. “These are lost dog posters. You can’t go around putting up lost dog posters if it’s not your dog.”
“It doesn’t say lost dog, it says if you’ve seen this dog…”
“It implies lost dog,” he said. “For all you know, this dog might belong to somebody else.”
“It doesn’t,” Lindsay said emphatically.
“How do you know it doesn’t?”
“I just know.”
“Not good enough,” her father answered. “Get rid of those posters.”
“But, Dad…”
He shook his head, and she could see his mouth set in a rigid line of determination.
“John,” Eleanor pleaded, “be reasonable.” She reached across and patted his hand. “Maybe instead of tacking the posters up, Lindsay could just hand them out to a few people she knows. She can explain that it’s a dog she’s looking to buy.”
“Well, I suppose if she explains,” he relented.
“And there’s nothing wrong with having one on the clubhouse bulletin board and maybe at Matthew’s office,” Eleanor added.
“Okay, those two places, but that’s it!” John got up from the sofa and headed to the kitchen for a dish of ice cream. “You girls want one?” he called back.
They both answered no. Lindsay smiled at Eleanor and mouthed the words “thank you”. She folded one of the posters and handed it to Eleanor who by then had promised to show it to the ladies in her garden club.
On Sunday afternoon while Lindsay was at the mall shopping for a pair of high heel boots that would look good with her jeans, Eleanor called Matthew at home.
“Lindsay has this little dog she’s looking for, and I’d appreciate it if you could help her find it.”
“What kind of a dog?” he asked.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Eleanor said, “but judging by the picture she has, it’s just a scruffy looking little white dog.”
“I don’t understand,” Matthew said. “Is it that she wants to buy a dog, or is this a dog she lost?”
After another ten minutes of explanation they hung up. Matthew now knew three things he hadn’t known before: first, Lindsay was a little bit crazy; next, she was fixated on finding one particular dog; and lastly, he liked her even more than he previously had.
Eleanor
Blessings sometimes come in strange disguises. Up until a few days ago, I could have sworn I’d die an old lady before Lindsay took a liking to me. John couldn’t see it, but I suspect that was because he didn’t want to see it. Oh, Lindsay and I never had words, but it was the lack of words that let me know exactly how she felt.
The morning Mister Morrissey called her about the job I heard her cell phone ringing and spotted it laying there on the table. My first thought was to wish I were somewhere else so I didn’t have to worry about whether or not to answer the phone. Given the way she’d been going out of her way to avoid me, I figured I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. But you know the funny thing about life is sometimes when you’re looking to move away, the good Lord plunks you down in just the right place at the right time.
That sure was the right time and place for me, because ever since that morning Lindsay has been downright pleasant. I always wanted a daughter and yesterday when we were sitting at the table talking about the different parts of our life, I could almost see Lindsay as belonging to me. Don’t misunderstand, Ray’s my son and I love him, but the boy is so like his daddy it’s painful. I don’t think once in his whole life has Ray sat down and had a heart to heart talk with me. When he was growing up he used to leave me notes on the kitchen counter. Not stuff about what a good mother I was or anything like that. It was “Ma, wash my gym stuff ’cause I need it for tomorrow”, or “Ma, I don’t like bananas, so stop putting them in my lunch.” He got that gravelly disposition from his daddy. Raymond didn’t have a warm fuzzy bone in his body.
I know, you’re probably wondering why I married Raymond, but he wasn’t that way when we met. He was different then. I can’t honestly say if he changed, or if I was just blind to the truth of what he was because I wanted to believe I was in love with him. Everybody wants to be loved. It doesn’t matter if you’re nine or ninety, when a man looks at you with adoration in his eyes your heart melts. I could see Raymond was in love with me, and it wasn’t real hard to convince myself that I was just as much in love with him.
When I went off to college, I thought there’d never be anybody but John. Back then I used to picture how it would be, us married with a family of our own. Every day and sometimes twice a day, I’d write him a letter and say how much I loved him. For a while he answered most of my letters, but then his letters started getting shorter and further apart. In time they slowed to a trickle. Weeks would go by and there’d be no letter.
In the last month of my freshman year there was not a single letter; instead I got a postcard saying John had taken a summer job in the Catskills. He used up most of the card saying how he’d be working as a waiter and expected to get pretty good tips. Then at the very bottom he squeezed in a line promising he’d try to get home in time to see me before I returned to Kentucky.
I read that postcard a thousand times or more. I kept looking for a message written between lines, an indication John was still in love with me. It just wasn’t there.
That was the saddest summer I can ever remember. I didn’t even go home. I got a job selling tickets at the movie theatre and stayed in Kentucky. That was the summer I met Raymond.
I can’t recall who said absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I can say those are the words of a fool. It’s not true. Distance and long days apart wipe away the memory of sweet kisses and tender embraces. You feel empty inside and hungry for what you once had. In time somebody comes along and covers your mouth wit
h more of those sweet kisses, and when that happens it’s not hard to convince yourself this is as good as what you once had. Of course it’s not, but it’s better than what you now have so you allow yourself to believe you’re in love.
I’ve grown fond of Lindsay, and I sure hope she doesn’t make the kind of mistakes I’ve made. I know she’s still getting over that boyfriend she had in New York, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind that Matthew would be perfect for a girl like Lindsay. If it’s to be, it’s to be. One thing neither of them need is some old busybody meddling in their affairs.
Anyway, I’ve got my own troubles to worry about. Right now my biggest trouble is Ray. He’s got a real ugly attitude, and he’s said things meaner than you can imagine—things I haven’t even told John. If I did John would end up hating Ray, and what good would that do? When I feel really low, I think about how Lindsay has come around and I try to believe the same thing could happen with Ray. Sometimes I can talk myself into believing it; other times I know it’s just wishful thinking.
Cupid
Loving Lunch
Love makes anything believable. One zap from me, and the impossible becomes possible. Women feel their heart start to flutter, and wise men begin to act foolish. Up until today Matthew registered a zero on the gullibility scale, but now that he’s looked into Lindsay’s eyes he’s ready to be a believer. I can tell you what’s going to happen, but I won’t because it would only spoil the fun. Instead I’ll give you this small bit of wisdom: Every human should have a dog, because somewhere between the bark and the wag of a tail there’s a heart way bigger than your own. That’s where you’ll find the truth of what love is all about.
Wishing for Wonderful: The Serendipity Series, Book 3 Page 11