Focused

by Julie B. Cosgrove

  Christina huffed into her bangs. “Maybe Jeff’s funeral has just been postponed.” She snatched the little card from the holder. It read—I’m an idiot. Please forgive me. Jeff.

  Angela came around the desk to read over her shoulder. “Does this mean he’s off the hook?”

  “I honestly do not know. And I can’t think about it now. I’ve used up half a roll of tape in this calculator and I can’t get this account to balance.” Christina stomped her foot, pushed her chair away and headed out the back door and down the hall to the restroom.

  Sitting in the last stall prayed to stop the angst bubbling in her throat, then went outside for a breath of fresh air.

  Her mountaintop experience seemed eons away. She had never felt lower in the valley of despair than now. Her emotions were spinning over her head like the cartoon stars when someone is conked on the noggin’. But they were not very bright and cheery.

  She was angry with Jeff and hurt. How could he think she would even fathom the possibility of disregarding their vows? Even if Bud’s attention tempted her, she’d never act on it.

  She was angry at Bud for trying to make their friendship something more . . . twice.

  But most of all she was angry at herself for almost wishing he would, then fearing he would, then chiding Jeff because he fell short of being some Hollywood rendition of the perfect loving husband, something no one could live up to no matter how hard they tried. Jeff was sorry he was an idiot. No, she was the idiot—again!

  Lately she felt as if she was in a spin. First, she and Jeff were at each other’s throats, then all sweet and smoochy, then back again. Maybe the old, dull, buried-in-a-rut doldrums had been better. Get me off this roller coaster!

  Where were her new Godly eyes that she had been so determined to view everyone through? Had she changed at all?

  She looked up to the sky. Oh, God, why do you put up with me? Why did Jeff, for that matter?

  Christina brushed her frenzy aside and calmly returned to her desk, the calculator and her work. Angela had moved the vase to the worktable near the copier. She smiled and Christina mouthed a thank you back to her before she began to re-enter the numbers. Finally, the account balanced. Throughout the rest of the morning, she tried not to look at the flowers, lest she break down and cause a scene. Everyone picked up on the mood and gave her a wide berth.

  At lunch Angela approached the subject from the side. “Want to talk about it or leave it?”

  “Jeff’s jealous of Bud.”

  “And that is just now dawning on you?”

  “It all came out last night. I thought we had settled it. Then it all exploded again this morning. Then I exploded.” Christina shrugged then bit into her turkey and no-fat mayo sandwich. It was not what she was hungry for. A double dip hot fudge sundae with chocolate and caramel syrup oozing down the sides and whipped cream stacked high as fluffy summer clouds - that’s what she was hungry for.

  “And he sends flowers to smooth it over.” Angela’s voice contained a bit of agitation.

  Christina immediately defended her man. “Hey, at least he’s trying.” She caught herself and noticed her friend’s smirk. Angela coaxed her in and she fell, hook, line and sinker.

  “Thanks.” She said and threw a baked potato chip at Angela’s lap.

  Angela picked it up and chomped. “You’re welcome,” she mumbled.

  At ten till five, Christina shut down her programs, picked up her purse and told everyone goodnight. She walked around the building the long way on purpose, letting the afternoon sun penetrate her back as she breathed in the scent of the honeysuckles dangling on the fence.

  Each bloom was tethered together by a thin vine, wrapped through the linked fence in a graceful ballet. How she wanted to crawl in and cling with them. They existed without a care, receiving all they needed from God and releasing sweet fragrances in thanks. Instead she felt like it was her marriage that dangled. But this too would pass, even if it meant another tearful night.

  For just a moment behind the wheel, she thought of heading west, again. But she couldn’t run off to her hiding place every time things got bumpy. Especially since that was where Bud most likely headed if the stuff about his landlord had been a ruse, as she assumed. Instead Christina closed her eyes and rested her head on her knuckles which grasped the steering wheel in a death lock, begging them to guide the car homeward. She wanted her brain on auto pilot for a while. Just as it had been that day driving up to the cabin. Not feeling, just doing.

  Then she asked God to get her there safely, enter the house with her and guide her mouth tonight above all other nights. She would face this battle. But first, she would thank her husband for the flowers.

  God guided her mouth and Jeff’s, too. She walked in, set her purse down and told him she was sorry, too.

  “I just can’t help these jealous feelings. There is a chemistry between you and Bud. Maybe it is because you shared a lot when you were kids, but. . .”

  “Jeff, I love you. I married you, not him. There’s always been a push-me, pull-you thing between us. We both knew it could never work in our teens. We know that now, too. You are the man I want.”

  “Really?” Jeff motioned her to the couch. “Convince me.”

  That night, they both slept on the couch.

  A fragile peace returned and grew a bit stronger as each day went by. And nary a peep from Bud. When Avery came the next Thursday for their morning ritual of coffee and prayer, his name never came up in the conversation.

  Chapter 44 Just Another Day

  The calendar revealed the dreaded news. One day remained before her fiftieth birthday, something that Christina chose not to let bother her. She continued to keep her mind busy and avoided any discussion or hinting of the inauspicious day, unaware that actually made things easier for her co-workers and friends at church … and for Jeff.

  As she leaned against the kitchen counter reading the email messages on her phone and sipping her second morning cup of coffee, Melinda from church called in a frantic voice saying that she just received a call from her mother and she might have to go out of town. Was there anyway Christina could fill in for her that weekend for altar duty?

  She added in a breathless voice, “My partner Elaine can not meet until 11 a.m. because she’s having her hair done and 10 a.m. was the only time slot she could get with her hairdresser.”

  “Sure, no problem. I’d be happy to do that. Then you can take the last week in June if that works out,” Christina replied, a little down that her friend would ask her to do this on her 50th birthday. But, she corrected her emotion. This was about Melinda, not her. “I hope all goes well with your mom. Can we add her to the prayer list?”

  Melinda anticipated her answer. “Father Rick already knows all about it. I’m sure he’ll pass the word.”

  Christina hung up and told herself that Melinda was probably in a frenzy and in a few days it would dawn on her what she’d asked. Most likely, she would phone back apologizing profusely. Besides, Christina convinced herself, it might be a blessing to be busy that day so she would not ruminate over it all. Beats leaning over my dressing table mirror plucking gray hairs.

  Just then, Jeff entered into the kitchen, briefcase gripped in one hand as the other grabbed the coffee pot. Since the explosion, a surface calm existed between them. Neither felt the desire for more “big talks”. The days blended together with any residual angst shoved under the rug, filed away or hidden in the cupboard.

  “I just got a huge scope review on Monday for a job that I just got the addendum on late yesterday. Looks like I am going to have to work on Saturday. Sorry, Babe, it just can’t be helped.” He blew the steam off the coffee cup. “I promise, we’ll do something together later that evening. Okay?”

  “We don’t have to make plans set in stone,” Christina shrugged.

  “Hate to mention it, but yes we do. After all, it’s a pretty big one coming up.” He chortled and shook his finger at her, making her blush. She knew that
was the exact affect he wanted.

  “Jeff, it’s just another day. Really. I don’t want to make a big deal of it. And, “she added with emphasis as she poked his side, “No black balloons or banners in the yard, please!”

  “But, hon . . .”

  “Besides,” she continued before he could continue, “We have spent so much on getting the TV fixed and my glasses…. and getting the stuff for my new study. Not to mention the new curtains you so graciously let me buy.” She eyed him and smiled.

  “You mean the sheets on clearance that you made into curtains in the room you really haven’t been able to use until last week and in another week won’t be able to use until your aunt leaves?”

  Christina waved away the comment. “Really, that’s present enough. I honestly do not want anything else. No fancy jewelry.” She slapped his hand from reaching over and grabbing some of the bacon she drained on a paper towel. “AND No black dress and veil. Please!”

  “You sure?” he interrogated her.

  “Absolutely, One hundred percent. Now go.” She waved her hand towards the door.

  He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m going.”

  “Wait.” She handed him two pieces of bacon and a piece of buttered toast on a napkin. “Bacon’s cooled off now.”

  “Thanks.” He folded the napkin around the food and laid it in his briefcase.

  “Don’t get grease on the proposal.” She brushed his cheek with a kiss.”Try and have a good day.”

  “Yeah, right.” Jeff gave her a nod and closed the door leading to the garage.

  Christina pushed off the kitchen counter and headed down the hall for her final daily primping before heading out herself.

  * * *

  Jeff’s heart skipped a beat, hoping she didn’t mean what she’d said about no hoopla. He knew women often said the opposite of what they meant. He learned that one the first year they were married, the hard way.

  Well, he wasn’t about to change his plans, now. More than ever she deserved this, and he hoped it would be enough of a peace offering to make her forget the whole ordeal of the last month or so and put the Bud thing behind them once and for all.

  Instead he popped his head back in and called back, “I’ll take you out to dinner tomorrow night if you like. You just be thinking about where you would like to go and then call them if they require reservations, alright? Make it for, oh… say 7 p.m.? That ought to give me time to get home, shower and change.” He heard her affirming reply as she walked down the hall.

  He paused before he closed the door. “…And no fair picking the cafe or the diner. I want to take you someplace where I need to wear a coat and tie, got it?”

  A laugh came from the direction of the bedroom. “Got it. I am recording this you know.”

  “Gotta run. See ya later,” He added as he headed out the door, chomping on a piece of pilfered bacon left to drain on the counter.

  * * *

  Christina shook her head. The man was bent on trying. She knew Josh had to work on Saturday as well. Rinsing out her toothbrush, she reconciled herself to the fact she needed to do six loads of laundry that weekend anyway. It was no big deal. Ignoring the residual minty taste in her mouth, she grabbed the last piece of bacon and chewed on it as she plopped another piece of raisin bread in the toaster. Maybe nerves, but her stomach felt cavernous today.

  “It’s not like I’m a kid expecting a pizza party with balloons at the skating rink or something,” she said to Fat Cat rubbing her calves. He obviously wanted bacon, not her. To the rest of the world, tomorrow was just another normal Saturday. Majority ruled.

  She lumbered out the back door to head for work and another day in traffic. Joy, joy.

  At work there was a small bouquet of cut flowers from the supermarket sitting on her desk and a Post It Note that said “Happy Birthday”. It was signed by all her coworkers with a promise they would take her to lunch after payday.

  “Thanks, ya’ll,” she sincerely replied. “You know how much I love their flowers at the Food Basket. They are always fresh and last for days. And carnations, too. They are my favorite.” She stuck them in the vase left over from Jeff’s bunch delivered after the fight. Or was it from the ones she got after her romp to the Hill Country? Or did it come from Sandy’s anniversary bouquet? Or maybe when Angie’s daughter sent her roses for taking care of the post tonsillectomy grandson? Lately, vases multiplied like rabbits under the break room sink. No matter.

  A little before noon her boss brought in a pastry box of lemon squares, brownies and oatmeal raspberry bars. He plopped it on her desk and called back “Happy Birthday” as he went down the hall and ducked into his office.

  Angela looked over at her and shook her head before returning to her computer screen. In a few moments they both sputtered out a laugh. Their boss never showed emotion. The fact that he had actually gone out and gotten the pastries was above and beyond. Christina really felt flattered by the effort.

  So she got up and passed the box around, letting everyone take a piece. Then she let her teeth sink into the decadence of a double fudge brownie. Her taste buds acknowledged the dark chocolate chips and chocolate icing. She rolled her eyes into the back of her head and heaved a sigh. “Nirvana,” She said with her mouth full.

  “Better than…?” Angela asked.

  “I wouldn’t know,” Christina responded, her mouth still savoring the chocolate on her taste buds.

  “Not even when you had your old flame under your roof?” Sandy quipped.

  “Definitely not then!”

  “Right. Just when he was out of the house on dates with your maid.” Angela crowed. “Your face has been glowing a bit lately, you know.”

  Christina threw her crumpled up napkin at Angela’s desk and returned to her own little blinking cursor pointing at the bottom line of the Bronson’s latest financial acquisition.

  * * *

  Jeff set his cell phone alarm for six in the morning. and put it under his pillow. That way he knew he would hear it and not disturb Christina. She requested they watch one of her favorite old tearjerker movies on TV last night and the darn thing hadn’t ended until close to midnight.

  He quickly showered and dressed as the coffee brewed. He had downed his cup and was out the door by 6:45 a.m., headed to the grocery store to get the last minute items, like ice. An hour later he was in the church parking lot waiting for someone who knew the alarm code to show up.

  He plugged his cell into the car jack and dialed his son’s number. Two rings, then a “Yeah?”

  “Rise and shine. First plane full arrives in an hour.”

  A barely audible groan came over the airwaves. “I know, Dad. The alarm went off ten minutes ago, Okay?”

  “Right. Sorry. Guess I’m nervous. I’m sitting here in the parking lot and nobody’s here yet.” He got out and closed his truck door.

  “They will be. It’ll all go great. Mom still has no clue?”

  “She’s not letting on if she does. The way she’s been trying not to pout around the house, I don’t think so.”

  Josh laughed. “I’ll get to the Southwest terminal on time then get them checked in at the motel. See ya in a few hours.”

  * * *

  Saturday arrived with the sun shining and the birds outside her bedroom window chirping, just like in the Disney movies. Zippity do-da, wonderful day. La, de, da.

  Christina grabbed her pillow, folded it over her eyes and groaned. She hated irony.

  Chapter 45 The Prep

  By 8 a.m., several of the ladies arrived. They began sweeping and mopping the Parish Hall. Their chattering filled the room. Harriet waved to Jeff to help her carry in the boxes of napkins, table cloths, serving pieces and an extra kitchen sink for all he knew. Betty arrived with the helium balloons and streamers while Elaine followed behind with the sheet cake from, where else but, Bonnie’s Bakery.

  The church’s phone tree sent out reminders asking everyone to arrive by 10:15 so no stranglers would be
coming late and give the surprise away. The mailed invitations included a three by five card and instructions which read: “On this card please write, or draw or depict some way that Christina has brightened up your life.” It went on to explain they could add a photo or artwork or whatever they wanted. Announcements placed two Sundays in a row in everyone’s pew bulletins, except the Willis’s.

  Jeff borrowed and photocopied her address book so Jean could send invitations and cards to Christina’s family and friends outside of the parish. Fliers were rubber-banded onto the front door knobs of the neighbors and word of mouth spread throughout Allensville and neighboring Red Top.

  All in all, Jean told Jeff that about one hundred-twenty-five people had RSVP’ed. He knew there would be plenty of food. These church ladies liked to cook. There were always leftovers. In fact, one of the volunteer firemen, Harry, stopped him in the store on Jeff’s second run of the morning, this time for French vanilla and hazelnut coffee creamer. He suspected it was Harriet’s way to keep him from getting underfoot.

  “We sure are lookin’ forward to a good meal later on from the St. Martin’s women after your wife’s shindig. Send all the leftovers our way and we’ll take care of them.”

  Both men had laughed and patted each other’s backs.

  Jeff said, “I think it’s such a tradition to send the leftovers to the firehouse after any church event that those women make extra on purpose.”

  “Be sure to wish her a good one from all of us on duty.” Harry waved goodbye.

  * * *

  Jeff was already showered, dressed and long gone by the time Christina opened her eyes. She stared at the indention still left in the sheets, wishing he had woken her to kiss her good-bye.

  Throwing off the covers, she sat up and stretched. I will not engage in a pity party. Christina resolved to treat herself to her favorite breakfast of creamed eggs over toast, the traditional “what to do with all the hard boiled eggs in the Easter basket” breakfast she traditionally cooked for her family after Sunrise services.