Elusive Mr. Perfect

by Murray, Tamela Hancock

  “Let’s hope not,” said Joelle.

  “You know, I hate to mention this,” Eleanor said, arms folded over her chest, “but you probably didn’t need to put all that insecticide all over everything. You could have just run the clothes through the washer and then let them spin in the dryer for about a half hour.”

  She turned to her mother. “Oh.” Still holding the can of poison, Joelle felt a bit foolish. “Really?”

  “Really.” Eleanor smiled her knowledgeable, yet comforting, smile—the one that must be taught at the secret school for mothers where universal knowledge is imparted sometime during every woman’s first pregnancy. “But at least by spraying you’ll be sure to kill them all.”

  “That’s right.” Joelle was glad her mother allowed her to save face.

  “You must have gotten into a mess of ticks to be so hyper.”

  “You wouldn’t believe it.” Sighing, she looked at the garments hanging on the line. “I guess now the only thing to do is let these clothes hang out until tomorrow morning.”

  “While you’re waiting, you can read your mail.” Eleanor handed Joelle two envelopes and several mail-order clothing catalogs. “I forgot to give it to you earlier.”

  Joelle took the parcels. “That’s all right. I didn’t have time to read it before now, anyway.”

  After depositing the can back on its shelf in the shed, Joelle walked back toward her house. The path to the cement patio meandered through the expansive backyard. Carpeted with green grass, the yard had hosted many good times. Joelle remembered games of hide-and-seek, catching lightning bugs at dusk after long summer days, years of birthday parties, even one brother’s wedding. At the far end of the plot was her mother’s garden. The patch of land she called her own offered time alone to commune with God and to feel pride in watching her vegetables grow. Thanks to their mother, summer at the Jamisons’ meant garden-fresh corn on the cob, green beans, and tomatoes.

  Lifting her eyes to her bedroom window, Joelle watched the floral chintz curtains sway back and forth with the breeze sweeping through the screen. She thought about her happy years in that room. Joelle had never lived anywhere else for more than a few months. Her parents had bought the three-bedroom white frame house two years after they were wed. All their adult lives had been spent there. She imagined that no matter how old she grew, the Jamison residence would always feel like home. One day, Joelle hoped the house she and her husband—whoever he turned out to be—would have would be able to give their children the same sense of belonging and security.

  Flipping through the mail as she walked, she noticed the return address on one letter was from the bank. Probably her savings account statement. That could wait until she was at her desk with her records nearby. Riffling past it, she noticed the second envelope was from a man who certainly would never be her husband. Lloyd Newby. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Don’t believe what?” Joelle’s mother asked as she seated herself on the floral-patterned glider.

  Joelle sat on the freestanding wooden swing and began moving back and forth. “This letter. It’s from Lloyd Newby. You remember him.”

  She nodded. “The one who stuck you with the restaurant tab?”

  “The one and only.” Ripping open the envelope, Joelle was surprised to find a card. On the front was a photograph of a pouting baby. Inside was the word “Sorry.” Lloyd had simply signed his name on the bottom. Even more surprising was Lloyd’s check taped to the inside. It was written for $225, more than enough to cover the cost of their evening together.

  What wasn’t a surprise from a man so bent on keeping up appearances was the expensive lettering and fancy additions Lloyd had ordered to embellish his checks. His name and address were printed in an elegant blue script. The letter N, also in an elaborate script, appeared beside his name and address. The check itself appeared pale blue at first blush, but upon closer inspection, Joelle saw it pictured a sea and sky. The words “Ride the Wave of Success!” were emblazoned near the name of his bank.

  Joelle held up the check for her mother to inspect. “Well, what do you know? He kept his word after all.”

  Eleanor’s blond eyebrows rose. “I’ll say. He certainly spared no expense on the check itself.”

  “That’s Lloyd. Always showing off.”

  “Even so, I’m as surprised as you are that he paid you back.” She folded her arms. “Especially since he’s apparently fond of wasting money.”

  A grin tickled Joelle’s lips. Her mother thought paying good money for embellished checks was foolish when her bank offered plain ones free of charge.

  “That goes to show, you can’t always tell about people,” said Eleanor.

  “I’ll be telling Dean all right. He was sure I’d never get my money back.” Joelle relished the thought of talking to Dean. She had to let him know he had been wrong about Lloyd. The check proved he was wrong. She wasn’t such a poor judge of character.

  “That reminds me. You remember how the phone was ringing when you were leaving the house? Well, it turned out to be Dean.”

  Joelle’s heart skipped a beat. She let her hands fall to her lap. “Dean? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come back into the house and taken his call.”

  “What do you mean, you would have come back in the house? You were already out on your date.”

  “Such as it was,” Joelle muttered.

  “You didn’t know at the time it would turn out to be a disaster. But anyways,” Eleanor waved her hand as if swatting an annoying fly, “why would you stop everything just to talk to him? You always have said he’s just a friend. Can’t he talk to you anytime?”

  “I—I guess. Um, you don’t know what he wanted, do you?”

  “He said something about having tickets to a show. I don’t know what show it was.”

  The cogs in Joelle’s brain began turning. She wondered if Dean had indeed been on his way to see the same play she and Wilbert had abandoned. If so, that would explain why their cars passed on the road. An unwelcome thought occurred to her. “You didn’t tell him I was out on a date with someone else, did you?”

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t see any need. I just said you were out for the evening, and I wasn’t sure when you’d be home.”

  “What did he say then?”

  “Nothing, really. Although, I could tell he was disappointed. He did say for you to call if you got back before eight.” Eleanor gave her daughter a pat on the knee. “You know, you were better off not being home anyway. Even if Dean is just a friend, there’s no need in you looking like you’re not popular enough to be out on a Friday night.”

  It was Joelle’s turn to roll her eyes. “Dean and I are close enough that we don’t need to play games.”

  “Is that so?” Eleanor’s lips pursed. “Can a man and a woman ever really be just friends?”

  Joelle didn’t want to answer. Her mother’s oblique suggestion was too unsettling to contemplate, but so was the alternative. Now that she knew Dean had tickets to the play, she was certain of two facts. One, Dean was the one she and Wilbert had met on the road. Two, the woman with him had to be Nicole—not that it mattered. Whoever Dean saw was his business. But she wouldn’t wish Nicole on her worst enemy, much less her best friend. If only she’d answered the phone before she left!

  “And anyhow,” her mother said, interrupting her thoughts, “if I had run out the door and hollered for you to come to the phone to speak to Dean, would that have changed anything?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I don’t see how. Unless you’re trying to make me believe you would have left this Wilbert fellow standing out there on the front porch so you could go to the play with Dean instead.”

  “Well. . .”

  “Well, nothing,” Joelle’s mother said with a wag of her finger. “Can’t you see you’re better off the way things turned out? If you’d answered the phone, you would have been forced to turn him down. You would have been cornered into telling him the whole truth. Thi
s way, he’s just guessing.”

  “You have a point.”

  “Maybe you’ll end up with Wilbert and Dean fighting over you.” Eleanor chuckled.

  “I doubt that.” Joelle folded her arms. All that work, and she didn’t even get to see the play. Not to mention her best black dress had become tick-infested. She wondered if she’d ever be able to get out the smell of insecticide. “After tonight, I have no intention of seeing Wilbert again. Ever.” She nodded once to emphasize her determination. “Things wouldn’t have been so bad if we had actually gotten to the theater, but I did all that work for nothing.”

  “Work done for the church is never for nothing. Even if it’s not for your own church, what you did tonight helped others in the Christian community,” Joelle’s mother pointed out.

  A sense of shame washed over her. “You’re right. I do need an attitude adjustment.”

  “You’ve had a hard night. Tomorrow things will look better. Maybe then you can think about giving Wilbert another chance.”

  “You like him that much?”

  Eleanor shrugged. “I don’t know him. He’s obviously involved in his church, so if I were you, I’d be willing to go out with him a second time if he calls.”

  “I don’t know. Mom, even without the ticks, the evening was a disaster. I can tell all he really wants is a maid.”

  “I know the evening wasn’t much fun, but it wasn’t Wilbert’s fault.” After Joelle shot her a look, Eleanor added, “All right. Maybe it was his fault, but at least the incident with the possum wasn’t intentional. I feel sorry for him. He’ll be trying to get ticks out of his car from now until the first winter freeze.” Eleanor covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

  Her comment brought to Joelle’s mind an image of Wilbert attempting to get rid of the pests. In spite of herself, Joelle joined her mother’s laughter. Funny, she wished Dean were there to share it with them.

  Nine

  The next evening was Singles’ Night. As members of the group filed in one by one and began conversations, they happily chatted without regard to the time. Just before the meeting was ready to kick off, Zach entered. With him were two teenagers he introduced as his cousins. Radical styles of clothing and accessories caused the adolescent boys to be noticeable among their working-age elders.

  The group tried to greet them with open arms, but the boys were reticent. Spurning attempts at conversation, they turned away and talked between themselves.

  “Looks like our guests are here under duress,” Joelle whispered to Zach.

  “I know,” Zach answered. “I hated to put you guys out by bringing them, but since they’re in town, my mom insisted. She even bribed me with a steak dinner so I’d drive to her house to pick them up.” Zach studied his young charges. A worried look entered his eyes, then sat upon his face. He shook his head and returned his gaze to Joelle. “I think she just might have wanted to get rid of them for an evening.”

  Joelle wondered if Zach didn’t speak the truth. Raven took his name to heart. His long, straight hair was dyed an ebony that contrasted with his pale skin like coal buttons against a snowman’s body. The goatee he was attempting to grow was dark brown. Joelle assumed he sported the facial hair to look older, but in actuality, the goatee made him appear younger. Raven’s T-shirt was solid black, as were his pants. Black boots covered his feet in defiance of the warm weather.

  The fact that Eagle’s long, platinum blond hair didn’t occur naturally was betrayed by deep brown roots that matched his long sideburns. A black leather vest partially concealed a white T-shirt with writing that Joelle couldn’t decipher. Black leather pants and boots covered the lower half of his body. No jewelry was spared. Several gold hoops decorated the lobes of each ear. On his right wrist was a gold ID bracelet. The other, in a bow to practicality, bore a watch.

  Joelle hated to judge by appearances, but their style of dress made it difficult to draw any conclusion other than that they were trouble. She tilted her head and set her own eyes on the ceiling as though she were in deep contemplation. “Hmm. Wonder why your mom would want an evening without the twins?”

  “I wonder.” Zach shook his head.

  As she and Zach were exchanging quips, Joelle kept an eye on Dean. The time was almost ten minutes after the hour. Dean consulted his watch every few seconds. In the meantime, Joelle took a head count. On the green couch sat the twins. Dean, Fiona, and Ashlynn occupied the multisectional pit group seating that rounded one corner. Zach sat beside her in one of two wing chairs with matching but worn brown vinyl upholstery. Who was missing?

  Nicole! Joelle’s heart gave her a sinking feeling.

  At that moment, Dean spoke to the group. “Where’s Nicole?”

  “Nicole? I don’t know for sure,” Fiona answered, “but remember last week how she said something about having other plans?”

  “She did? I don’t remember that,” said Dean.

  “I do,” Ashlynn countered. “She said she wouldn’t be here this week.”

  “I wish I’d heard her,” Dean remarked.

  Dean wasn’t even bothering to conceal his interest in Nicole! Joelle felt her heart’s rapid beating betray her.

  “I thought sure she’d be here,” Dean continued. “It was her turn to be in charge of the lesson and entertainment tonight.”

  Joelle didn’t answer. The uncomfortable reality was, she didn’t miss Nicole at all. If she were to admit the whole truth, Joelle was pleased that Nicole was absent.

  “She’s been really busy at work. I’m sure she forgot she promised to be in charge of the program.” Zach’s tone of voice indicated he didn’t believe his own words.

  Dean’s mouth twisted into an unhappy curve. “I guess there’s no other choice. I’ll just have to wing it. We were supposed to talk about the Great Commission tonight. As for fun, you know me—I don’t go anywhere without my guitar, so we can have some music later if anybody’s interested.”

  A round of agreeable murmurs filled the room.

  “You can practice your solo for tomorrow,” Joelle observed. “We’ll be your guinea pigs.”

  Dean winked. “Only if you promise to sing along.”

  Despite the teasing gesture, Joelle knew Dean wasn’t joking. Joelle had developed her singing voice during high school with three years of lessons. At one time, she’d considered music as a career. After some contemplation, she decided she wasn’t committed enough to the field to make it a profession. A steady job in accounting and bookkeeping seemed more appealing. Her associate degree in business management hadn’t let her down. In the meantime, Joelle enjoyed singing as a hobby.

  Joelle wondered why Nicole had skipped out on her commitment and left the group stranded. At least now I look dependable, and she looks flighty.

  As soon as the thought entered Joelle’s mind, a pang of guilt stabbed her. Allowing her own jealousy to get in the way was wrong. Nicole needed the church.

  But I’m not jealous. I just know she’s not right for Dean. That’s all.

  “You didn’t know we had our own musical ensemble, did you, guys?” Zach told his cousins, Eagle and Raven.

  “I can strum a few tunes,” Dean said, “but I doubt I can compete with Hollywood.”

  “It’s not like I’m up for a Dove Award or a Grammy, either,” added Joelle.

  “Don’t worry about it. We’re always on the listen out for new music,” Eagle said. “We have our own band.”

  “Your own band? How exciting!” Ashlynn squealed, clasping her hands to her chest. “Have we heard of you?”

  “We haven’t gotten a deal with a major label yet,” Eagle admitted.

  “We haven’t even gotten a deal with a minor label,” Raven added. “We’ve sent our demo out to a lot of record companies, though. One day, somebody will notice us and give us a chance. Then, after we’re stars, you’ll be able to say you know the lead guitarist and vocalist—that’s me—and the drummer—that’s him over there,” he said, pointing to his brother, “from PUG.
”

  “Pug? Like the little dog?” Ashlynn wanted to know. “How cute!”

  “Not really. It means Puked Up Garbage.” Eagle’s voice was filled with pride.

  “Oh.” A hint of a crestfallen expression crossed Ashlynn’s face before she recovered and pasted on a smile. “I’d still be glad to listen to it sometime.”

  Still smiling, Ashlynn set her gaze on Zach. Though over the past few weeks he’d shown only vague signs of interest in the blue-eyed brunette, Ashlynn still tried to follow his interests and engage him in conversation whenever she could. Joelle was sure she knew the only reason Ashlynn offered to listen to the twins’ music. Ashlynn hoped to parlay the experience into a chance to be near Zach.

  “Don’t pay any attention to them, Ashlynn,” Zach said. “They like to get attention. A lot of what they say is for sheer shock value.”

  “Is not,” Eagle protested.

  “Don’t think you’re kidding anybody,” Zach argued. “I know you love to say something shocking, just to see what people will do.”

  Dean tried to make peace. “It’s a free country. You have the right to name your band whatever you want. Since you can read music, maybe you’d still like to play along with me. Did you bring your guitar, Raven?”

  “I brought it out here, but I don’t have it with me tonight.”

  “But you brought your vocal chords.” Fiona smiled.

  Eagle didn’t respond to her lightheartedness with a smile of his own. “I don’t know any hymns, and I don’t want to learn any, either.”

  “We wouldn’t be able to read the music, anyway. We don’t write down our notes. We just remember them,” Raven said. “Our music is alternative. We cover some songs by other groups, but mainly we write our own stuff. We don’t play any religious songs.”

  “Sure we do.” A reptilian smile covered Eagle’s face.

  “Not songs they’d like,” Raven said. “You know that.”

  “What do you like to write about?” Dean inquired, keeping his facial expression and tone of voice friendly.