Elusive Mr. Perfect

by Murray, Tamela Hancock

  Instead, he tilted his head toward one of the nearby booths, Very Veggie. “I like their organic pita sandwiches. Don’t you?”

  Since Joelle preferred to indulge in hamburgers and fries, Very Veggie was one of the places in the food court Joelle made every effort to avoid. “Uh, I’ve never tried one.”

  He seemed surprised. “As they say, there’s a first time for everything. How does a BLT sound?”

  Bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches were a rare indulgence for Joelle. Yet at that moment, the prospect of salt and fat seemed comforting. “Sounds good.”

  “Why don’t you go grab us a table, and I’ll bring you back a treat?”

  Joelle wasn’t sure she liked this idea, but she decided to acquiesce. Watching him walk toward the booth, she noticed he was carrying a tan leather briefcase. She wondered about its contents. Had he come straight from work to the date? If he had, he could have left the briefcase in his car. Unless he took a bus from his office to the mall.

  But what makes you sure he works in an office? He never told you what he does for a living.

  Joelle wished she’d asked more questions when they first spoke on the phone. Still, she brushed her worries aside. At least they were in a very public place. And, she reasoned, if the briefcase contained something sinister, he wouldn’t be so open about carrying it.

  Her thoughts running wild, she was thankful his order was filled quickly and he returned to the table as promised. She was considering whether to ask about the briefcase when he began the dinner.

  “Here you go!” He handed her a sandwich. “I hope you like this. My wallet sure didn’t.” A nervous chuckle escaped his lips.

  Joelle wondered if he was going to ask her to chip in, but since she had no say in the choice of restaurant or food, she decided not to extend her generosity. “I’m sure I’ll like it.”

  “Very Veggie is a bit pricey, especially by food court standards, but I assure you, it’s worth every penny.”

  “I’m sure.” The smell the sandwich emitted was noxious. Trying not to make a face, at that moment she decided for certain there was no way she would pay for whatever it was he’d ordered for her. “What is it?”

  “It’s a BLT.”

  Joelle looked again. “This may have lettuce, but I don’t see any tomatoes or bacon.”

  “That’s right. This is a Beets, Lettuce, and Tofu sandwich. You’ll see by its green color that the pita is spinach. They also use a scrumptious mustard-and-cider vinegar dressing. They’re the only people who make this sandwich, and I make sure to get one every time I come here. Delicious! You’ll be pleased to learn that all the vegetables are grown without harmful chemicals or any other artificial enhancements. They even make their own pitas and dressing.” Beaming, he seemed pleased to present her with such a treat.

  Organic or not, Joelle didn’t think the combination sounded appealing. With an expectant glance at his sandwich, she inquired, “How about a trade?”

  Freedom stared at the glass ceiling that loomed high above them. “Hmm. Let me think about that.” After a moment he shrugged his shoulders and gave her a nod. “Okay. This is a sacrifice, but I’ll trade just to show you I’m quite the gentleman.” He handed her his sandwich.

  “Thanks.” She knew her relief was obvious, until a strangely familiar odor wafted to her nostrils. A quick look at her new sandwich confirmed her worst suspicions. “This is exactly the same.”

  “Precisely.” A sheepish expression crossed his face. “Sorry you don’t think you’ll like it. Try it. You might be surprised.” He placed a large drink next to her. “I got us both a banana sesame yogurt shake.” Freedom reached into a small bag and extracted a container with a transparent plastic lid. The cup contained an icy dessert that appeared to be orange sherbet.

  “Looks yummy,” she observed. This time she didn’t have to control a grimace.

  “It is! One of my favorites. Cantaloupe sorbet.”

  Joelle hoped she heard wrong. “What kind of sorbet?”

  “Cantaloupe.” Freedom looked at her as though she had just disembarked from a Venusian ship. “Never tried it?” He tapped his unopened straw on the lid. “You’re in for a treat.”

  Joelle stared at the unappetizing meal. “Yum.” She knew her expression and tone belied her approval.

  Instead of noticing her facial cues, Freedom looked for the invisible. “I have a special talent for seeing auras. You know, very few people do.” He bit into his pita.

  Joelle was no longer accustomed to eating without pausing for a word of thanks. “You don’t say a blessing before meals?” she asked. If any meal needed a blessing, it was this one.

  He shook his head. “No. God is everywhere, in all of us. But if you feel the need to pray, I can respect that. I’ll wait.” Setting down his sandwich, he looked down at his lap.

  Joelle bowed her head. “Lord, we gather to thank You for Your provision once again. Please be with us tonight, and bless our time together. In the holy name of Your Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, amen.”

  Obviously untouched by her gesture, he picked up his food before the “amen” had left her lips. “Back to auras,” he said, “I can tell by yours that you and I would make good companions.”

  “You can tell that just from seeing me for a few minutes?”

  “Unequivocally. Through my spiritual exploration, I have gained the keys of knowledge.” After taking a sip of drink, he leaned forward. “Take, for example, your name. Joelle is not the name you were meant to have.” He set down his sandwich and touched his fingers to his temples. “Give me a moment to release the energy in my mind and connect to your soul. Then I will see what you really should be called.”

  “I don’t know. I like Joelle—”

  He held up his hand. “Shh! I can’t communicate without absolute silence.”

  Unable to think of a reason not to accommodate his request, offbeat though it was, Joelle decided to obey. She was glad for the excuse to stop nibbling on the portion of the spinach pita that had managed to escape a soaking from beet juice.

  As Freedom closed his eyes and kept them closed for some time, she cast shy glances at those around her. They were ignored by most of the people milling about the mall, but others looked at them in wonderment. They even attracted a couple of snickers. Joelle tried to ignore them by sipping on the oddly flavored shake.

  Finally, Freedom came out of his trance. “I just received a message about your new name.” He opened his blue eyes. “It’s Discover.”

  “Discover?” She wasn’t sure she could get used to such an eccentric name. “You mean, like the credit card?”

  “So you are overly concerned about wealth. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have thought of a credit card when you heard that name. But don’t worry,” he consoled her. “Soon the name Discover will come to mean much more to you than a piece of plastic. You have so much to learn, so much to explore, so much to Discover.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Today’s women are more free than they have been in any other time in history. I don’t believe in keeping women in the shackles of old myths and ideas. That keeps me at liberty, too. I am free from all jealousy and can easily give you as much space as you give me. That way, we both can share our liberty.” He leaned closer. “Are you free from the bonds of the world? Can you pick up and move anytime you like?”

  “I don’t know. My parents might be disappointed if I were to move out, except to get married, of course.”

  “You live with your parents?” His eyes widened. “You’re not still in high school, are you?”

  “Of course not. I work full time in a doctor’s office.”

  “I hope she practices alternative medicine.”

  “It’s a he, and no, he doesn’t practice alternative medicine.” This was not going well. Joelle began to wonder how she could finagle her way out of the rest of the evening.

  Instead of delivering her the expected lecture on women’s equality and the
merits of alternative medicine, Freedom went off on another tangent. “Speaking of alternatives, I’m sure you’ve been speculating as to what I have in my briefcase.”

  Joelle was stunned. Just as she was about to cut him off, Freedom always managed to come up with something to intrigue her enough to stay put. “I’ll have to admit, I was wondering.”

  Leaning over, he pulled the briefcase onto his lap, snapped it open, and drew out some pamphlets that appeared to be professionally printed. He smiled endearingly. “You never asked me where I live or about my career.”

  “I assumed you live within striking distance of here. As for what you do, I figured you’d tell me sooner or later.”

  “You are a very unusual woman, Joelle. Normally that’s the first thing a woman wants to know. I’ll let you in on something. The fact you didn’t ask is one reason I knew you’re special. You look beyond the money issue,” he grinned, “even if you do think your new name is like a credit card.”

  “I’ve been working on my attitude about money. I guess what you said proves I still have a ways to go.” She let out a sigh. “I only recently accepted Jesus Christ. He has a lot of molding left to do.”

  “Then why not let Him mold you where you can truly be free? Where you can live out the potential of your new name?”

  “I’m making plenty of discoveries where I am, thanks.”

  “Maybe. But look at how much better this place is.” He handed her a pamphlet.

  Joelle studied the picture depicting a quiet valley in full summer bloom. Mountains touched an azure sky. Just looking at it had a calming effect.

  “How would you like to live there?”

  “I already live in the mountains. I love it here. Maybe that’s why I find this picture so appealing.” She tried to return the pamphlet, but he refused to accept it.

  “Read the inside.”

  The leaflet expanded into more full-color photos. Some showed smiling people working together at a pottery wheel. A crowd of happy children played in another. Two large, rustic-looking cabins were shown in a third picture. She read aloud the snippets of text. “ ‘Tired of offices, computers, traffic, and all the other trials of life? Would you like to live free of these burdens? Does getting away from disagreeable, disgruntled people sound good to you? Then come and enjoy true harmony with our family at Wisdom’s Design.’ ”

  “Believe me, it’s as wonderful as it sounds. Wisdom—she’s our leader—allows each of us to be who we were meant to be.” Freedom exhaled a contented sigh.

  “So you make your living selling what you make at the commune?”

  He bristled. “We don’t use the term ‘commune.’ The world has sullied that word so it has negative energy. And anyway,” Freedom continued, “I’ve already contributed my trust fund to Wisdom’s Design.”

  “Your trust fund?” Joelle could only imagine Freedom’s background and how heartbroken his parents must have been to see their son taken in by a cult leader.

  He shrugged. “I don’t need the money. I’d rather spend my time making other seekers aware of Wisdom’s Design than working myself into the cardiac unit at the hospital like my father did.” Anger clouded his features.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. He created his own destiny.” Freedom pasted on a smile. “Now why don’t you create yours by helping me hand out these brochures? We only have five hundred. It shouldn’t take long to distribute them.”

  “You’re here to hand out materials about your co—whatever it is?”

  “And to meet you, of course.”

  “Even if I were willing, this mall doesn’t attract that many people. Getting rid of that many pamphlets will take all night,” she protested. “Besides, when you suggested we meet here, I thought maybe you had plans for a movie. The Silver Screen Matinee is in progress, you know.”

  “Silver Screen Matinee?” His look was blank. “No, I had no plans to go to a movie. I don’t care to see what the world has to offer.” Freedom’s look changed to one of genuine puzzlement. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting we waste time in a theater. You seem so spiritual. I thought you agreed with me.”

  “I do agree that some of the things the world offers aren’t good, but they’re not all bad, either.” She remembered something Dean told her once. “As Christians, we are to be in the world, but not of it.”

  He held up a leaflet and tapped it with his forefinger. “That describes Wisdom’s Design exactly.”

  Joelle found herself praying to the Holy Spirit. She needed to be shown what words to say. Within a split second, she answered. “Not exactly. Wisdom is not a person, but God the Father. The only way we can find God the Father is through the Lord, His Son, Jesus Christ.”

  Freedom shook his head. “There are many paths to God.”

  “Not according to the Bible. Jesus said He is the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to God the Father except by Him.”

  “I disagree. That viewpoint is too narrow for my mind.”

  Joelle rose from her metal seat. “I’m sorry, Freedom, but I just don’t think this is working. If you change your mind and want to learn more about the Lord—the true Savior—you can call me. I work for Dr. Mulligan. You can reach me there every weekday.”

  Joelle saw Freedom open his mouth to protest, but she turned before he could make his next point. Bailing out on an evening wasn’t easy for Joelle. She had been brought up to be polite, even to the point of putting up with boredom, inconvenience, and expense, but she could see talking further to Freedom was useless. He was lost. She sent up a silent petition that Freedom would one day come to Christ. In the meantime, she prayed that she had planted a seed.

  Discouraged, she was in no mood to shop and certainly in no frame of mind to sit alone in a theater. She decided to leave the mall, go home, microwave a bag of popcorn, and watch one of her dad’s old movies on the VCR. Maybe becoming engrossed in a story with a happy ending was the answer.

  Joelle was just about to step onto the crosswalk when she spotted a brunette with a fussy hairdo and an auburn-haired male form she instantly recognized. Disinclined to being caught on her way back from a bombed evening, Joelle looked at her black flats.

  “Joelle!”

  Too late. Dean had already seen her.

  Nineteen

  Nicole nudged Dean, sending a sharp pain through his ribs. “Do you have to speak to Joelle? She didn’t see us,” she hissed.

  “Of course I want to speak to Joelle. She’s my best friend.” Dean didn’t add that he’d been thinking about Joelle all evening. In fact, he’d been thinking about Joelle often as the weeks passed. He’d spent considerable time at the retreat praying about whether or not the Lord wanted him to pursue a romantic relationship with her. The more time passed, the more Dean became convinced it was the right thing to do. Otherwise, why would he feel such a sense of peace after praying about her, and why else would Joelle continue to weigh on his mind?

  In the meantime, Dean wasn’t surprised by Nicole’s objection. He’d made a huge mistake in asking Nicole to see The Sound of Music with him after his attempts to reach Joelle failed. Ever since, Nicole had clung to him like static electricity. He’d never seen such a chameleon in action.

  After their first disastrous night together, Dean never expected to hear from Nicole again. To his surprise, she later begged his forgiveness. When he accepted her apology on the condition she cool off, she molted into a student in search of a spiritual mentor. Over the past weeks, she’d seemed eager to learn more about the Lord. So when she invited him to the Silver Screen Matinee, Dean saw no reason not to tag along.

  This night had turned out no differently from the first. Over dinner, he realized Nicole’s spiritual quest was a ruse to launch a hoped-for romance. The proverbial last straw broke when Dean handed her a list of suggested religious books.

  “What is it with you and religion?” Nicole asked over veal Parmesan. Her voice revealed her disgust. “Don’t you ever talk about anyt
hing else?”

  Dean’s surprise was genuine. “I thought you wanted a book list. You asked me what you could read in addition to Scripture.”

  “Of course I want to read, but I can’t stay focused on religion every minute of the day. There are other things in life, you know. Things like—” she drummed her fingers on the table, “fun.”

  “Fun? But I have lots of fun,” he protested.

  “I mean real fun.” Fork midway in the air, she leaned toward him, her voice becoming husky. “You seem to forget I’m a woman and you’re a man.”

  His consciousness returning to the present, Dean shuddered. He wasn’t fond of hurting people, especially when they were as wobbly in their spiritual walk as Nicole, but he could see she wasn’t going to give up on a romantic relationship. That was something he couldn’t offer her. Better to hurt Nicole now than to give her false hope.

  Dean made a deal with himself. He would keep his promise to watch the movie with her. Then he would make sure he was never alone with Nicole again. Ever.

  Thankfully, Joelle was only steps away, but she seemed to be concentrating on the pavement. As soon as they reached her at the end of the crosswalk, he said, “Find any loose change?”

  Joelle stopped and looked up. “Not yet, but I’m feeling lucky.” Her flat voice and sour expression told another tale.

  “If I believed in luck, I’d say you are fortunate,” Dean said.

  “I do believe in chance. So keep looking,” Nicole advised, “and maybe your luck will pay off.”

  Dean hoped Joelle would ignore Nicole’s snide remark. “We’re lucky because we ran into you. Unless you’re in too much of a hurry to talk.”

  “I’ll bet she is.” Nicole looked at her with a steady gaze. “I’m sure Joelle is on her way to somewhere important.”

  “Not really,” Joelle answered, shaking her head. “I was just on my way home.”

  Dean couldn’t resist seizing the opportunity. “Then why don’t you join Nicole and me? We’re on our way to the Silver Screen Matinee. They’re featuring Jimmy Stewart movies. ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ starts at seven forty-five.”