Doug and Carlie: Matchmakers on a Mission (Doug & Carlie Series Book 3)

by Lisa Smartt

  She grabbed my hand and smiled, “I don’t want to go.”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  She stood and put on her cap and glasses, as though somehow that would shield her from the people now lining the hallway to catch a glimpse of her. I handed her the big black purse, which I sadly realized had been meticulously searched as she came in. She paused in front of me and then leaned into my chest while I wrapped my arms around her. She whispered into my ear, “I’m glad I came.” I whispered back, “So am I.” I could feel the heat returning to my face as I started to reach out and touch her face.

  Sid bounded through the door with a clipboard and a look of disgust on his wrinkled face. “Evidently you’re some kind of famous person.” He took careful examination of the room. “And that’s just makin’ trouble for the rest of us. Let’s get you out while we can. Your driver guy, or whoever that is, is out front and a bunch of idiot people are already gathering out there. So get your stuff together and make it snappy, Missy.”

  Ashley, always kind and accommodating, said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Sid. So very sorry.” She rushed for the door and I hurried along behind her. I could smell her perfume as it wafted through the door. I hoped it lingered but I knew it wouldn’t. As she rushed down the hallway, I also noticed the way her blue jeans fit perfectly. Curvy. Beautiful. Everything in me wanted to grab her, love her, never let her go. But that’s the problem. She was always going. And I never knew for how long.

  My friends were in the hallway trying to act as though they just happened to be out there. Rarely did Sunday afternoons in rehab provide opportunity to cruise for movie stars. When we got to the lobby, her bodyguard gently grabbed her by the arm and whisked her toward the front door. She turned to wave to me, a look of somber resignation on her face. I held up my hand. “Until next time.” And she was gone.

  Sid put his arm around me and said with a grin, “What the hell was that about?”

  “We’re friends.”

  He laughed as he patted me on the back. While walking toward the front office, he turned and yelled, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is, Dave. And I got some good ocean front property up in Nebraska I’d love to sell ya. It’s goin’ cheap.”

  Chapter 41 CARLIE: Pass the Celebratory Pickles

  Aunt Charlotte was to meet us at Wimpy’s for lunch so she could hear all about the big meeting with Jason. I’m sure Aunt Charlotte really wanted to go meet Jason in person. But I think she understood why it simply wasn’t feasible, not on the first meeting anyway. Between Sunday School and church on Sunday, she said to Clara, “I wanna meet that fella. I do. But Lord knows I don’t need to go down there and start runnin’ my mouth about who knows what and get ever’body all flustered.” Touché, Aunt Charlotte. Touché.

  Aunt Charlotte ran through the parking lot as Clara was getting out of the passenger side. “Oh Darlin’, oh, tell me all about it! And tell me you took pictures!”

  Clara beamed as she held up her phone. “Yeah, we’ve got pictures. Here. Let me find ‘em.” Clara started scrolling through her phone. Aunt Charlotte would do well in an over-crowded foreign country because she doesn’t have the typical American’s view of personal space. She gets up close and personal. Real close. She squeezed herself between Clara and the car door, “Oh, let me see this fella. Let me see ‘em.”

  “Look, this is one of the two of us. Yeah.”

  Aunt Charlotte started screaming and hugging Clara. “Oh baby, look at that fine handsome young man. Just look at ‘em! And he’s kinda skinny and poorly…just like you, Baby. Just like you.”

  Clara winked at me and laughed, “He is, isn’t he?”

  After lunch, I dropped Clara off at her house and determined to get home before the boys woke up from their naps. I also pondered a problem with no solution. In the last few days Collin had started calling me “Mama.” It made sense. He was just parroting James. Plus, it had been more than a year since he had had a mama. I knew he would probably never have a real recollection of her. Beautiful, gracious Shannon. Loving mother. Devoted wife. Collin would only know her from the myriad of pictures he’d be shown. And of course, a picture could never do her personhood justice.

  He needed a mom. Dave needed a wife. And I, for one, had no intention of over-spiritualizing the situation. Yes, it would all be in God’s timing. True. But if someone I loved was thirsty, I wouldn’t pray he’d find a river…if I had the power to hand him a glass of water.

  Without thinking, I pulled into the E.W. James parking lot and dialed the phone.

  “Hey, Carlie. Perfect timing. We’re on lunch.”

  “Good. I need to talk to you. It’ll only take a minute.”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “How do you feel about Dave?”

  “Uh, I feel fine about him, I guess.”

  “No. I mean, how do you feel about him as a man? Not as a friend.”

  “But he is a friend. And he’s a friend fighting a battle. And he probably doesn’t need distractions. Of any kind.”

  “Well, that’s where I see things differently. I think he needs love. And a helper. And I think you’re the woman who can provide that. Oh, and I think you need him too. You need someone who won’t crush you on his way to fame and fortune, someone who’s going a different way. Oh, and let’s not forget Collin. Collin needs a family.”

  “What brought all this on? I mean, have you talked to him since I was there?”

  “Since you were there? There where?”

  “In Nashville. I just assumed this tirade was brought on by my visit yesterday.”

  “Visit? What visit?”

  “I visited Dave. At rehab. I surprised him. After I got there, he told me about Collin being sick. So, it was perfect timing really.”

  “No. I had no idea. What motivated such a big trip?”

  “I don’t know. I had Saturday and Sunday off. I just figured we’d been exchanging letters and a visit might be in order.”

  “Good for you, girl. You know he comes home in little more than a week.”

  “I know. He said he was looking forward to going back to work, working the plan, getting back into the routine with Collin.”

  “I’m sure. And what are you looking forward to?”

  “I’m looking forward to finishing this chicken soup so I’ll be ready when they call me to set.”

  “You always pull the ‘I’m busy and famous’ card, don’t you?”

  “I love you, Carlie Jameson. Come see me.”

  “I just might.”

  “Love you. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  The boys were up from their naps and feeling completely healed. They were wreaking havoc with the couch pillows when I entered to find Maxine curled up in the recliner as though she enjoyed being a spectator at the circus.

  Uncle Bart dropped Aunt Charlotte off at 3:00 so we could plan Dave’s homecoming party. The party would be in our backyard. A down-home southern barbecue complete with our famous homemade pickles and Mrs. Ida’s deviled eggs. Brother Dan even asked his cousin to bring his bluegrass band, Rusty Barn Nails, to play tunes in the backyard. Everyone was preparing for the festivities.

  Aunt Charlotte came charging in the door at 3:20. “Sorry I’m late, Baby. The calf got out and got in Denny Baldwin’s rose garden. Oh Lordy, Denny was havin’ a spell about it too.” Aunt Charlotte wrinkled her mouth and said in a mocking deep voice like Denny’s, “Charlotte, that calf isn’t even supposed to be in the city limits. I should report you. And I grinned real big and told him go right ahead, Denny. Go ahead and report me and I’ll let ‘em know that your driveway is at least four feet over Ms. Eula’s property line. And God bless her, if she weren’t a fine Methodist, she’d a sued you forty years ago and ever’body in town knows it too.”

  I laughed, “And that was the end of that, I guess.”

  “Well, I reckon. But I did help him straighten those bushes a bit. They just needed a little fluffin’ y’know. There might have been one or tw
o yellow blooms squashed but they already had some brown spots on ‘em. I told ‘em I’d try to keep Susie in the back yard and that Bart would have the fence fixed by supper.” She looked at Maxine. “Ol’ Denny’s a fine neighbor and a decent person, I reckon. Okay. Let’s get on this party. So Brother Dan’s got the band on board. I hope they don’t play that new country nonsense. Some of that don’t even make sense.” She threw her hands in the air with exasperation, “What happened to Conway Twitty and Dolly and Johnny Cash? Lord have mercy, I saw a country music award show the other night and it looked more like a dad-gum circus than a country show. Know what I think? They should bring back Hee Haw. Buck Owens, Grandpa Jones, LuLu Roman. But nobody gonna ask a fat lady in Sharon ‘bout what’s what. No, sir. Baby, you’ve got the barbecue ordered, right? Ever’body’s bringin’ sides and desserts. All that’s left is decorations. You still got them checkerboard tablecloths?”

  “Yes, the barbecue is ordered and I have the tablecloths. We should be good on that. Oh, and Doug was gonna do a little ceremony welcoming him home and telling them that we’re all standing with him.”

  “Looks like it’s all done. So let’s sit on the floor and play with these babies then. Boys, come give Aunt Charlotte some love.”

  I stood there. In the middle of my living room. My heart was full. Blessings. Doug. James. The people of this community. Family. Dave. Collin. It’s like a big puzzle that was being fitted together piece by piece. Doug added me. Dusty added Clara. Dave was added not in the way we would want. Through loss. But still. We all had a purpose in the grand production. We all had a role though sometimes we were unsure where to stand.

  Chapter 42 DAVE: Romance Recovery

  Rowdy banter surrounded the TV in the lobby.

  Josh, a young investment banker, said. “Dave, you better come look! Your woman’s on TV!”

  I glanced over to see images of Ashley and a good-lookin’ man running out of a restaurant in San Diego. It felt like someone had hit me in the stomach. The reporter, who looked like a recent high school graduate, came on screen and said with a much too excited tone, “Ashley Harrison was seen coming out of The Royale with Ben Peterson late last night just days after it was reported she visited a friend and potential love interest in a rehab center in Tennessee. Barrett, I’m sending it back to you in the studio. What can you tell us about the Southern Belle’s seemingly complicated love triangle?”

  Josh turned up the TV. I want to believe he wasn’t trying to add insult to injury but I couldn’t be sure. “Thank you, Whitney. Ashley Harrison has always been seen as a Hollywood outsider. Originally from Alabama, she worked at a diner for years until she got her big break in last year’s surprise hit, A Single Woman’s Guide to Ordinary. Of course, the big news this year was her short romance with Blake Blanton while filming Over the Hills which will open nationwide next month. And yes, we have it on good authority that she was at a rehab center in Nashville, Tennessee, Sunday afternoon. First reports were cloudy as to whether she had a drinking problem. But it’s now been confirmed that she was there visiting a man, a man she met through best-selling author, Carlie Jameson. His name has not been released. So, is Ashley involved with her handsome co-star, Ben Peterson, or with a no-name recovering alcoholic in Tennessee? Stay tuned.”

  The hallway to my room seemed longer than usual. And the week that remained seemed like an eternity. I looked out the window and prayed no one would mention the story at supper. But I knew that was doubtful. The words kept coming back searing any self-respect I had left. A no-name recovering alcoholic in Tennessee. A loud knock brought me back to reality.

  “Come in.”

  I turned to see Sid standing in the doorway, not saying a word.

  I grimaced and turned back to the window, “Yes?”

  “Looks like you’ve jumped from the fire into the frying pan, Son. What you got yourself into?”

  “Recovery. That’s what I’ve gotten myself into. I’m an alcoholic, remember?”

  “Quit the bull. If you don’t wanna talk about it, tell me to go away.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. I stupidly thought a movie star could fall in love with me. How dumb is that, right?”

  “Depends on who you ask.”

  I turned to face him and said seriously, “I’m asking you. Is it dumb? To fall in love with a movie star?”

  “Some men would say it’s dumb to fall in love at all, movie star or not. Too risky.”

  I huffed, “You’re a cynic.”

  “I said some men.”

  I pointed to the chair but he didn’t move. “And you? What about you, Sid? Ever been in love?”

  “Once. Had a couple of kids. Good kids too. They’re still good kids.”

  I felt bad. I shouldn’t have called him a cynic. It was like I’d shot a deer but not enough to kill it. Just enough to make it suffer.

  “What happened?”

  “Loved the bottle more.”

  I’d assumed Sid had always been single. Single because a woman, most any woman, wouldn’t be able to take his being, well, Sid. “But you’re clean now. For what? Twelve years? Ever thought of trying to make amends?”

  He looked straight at me and said, “She married a high school football coach ten years ago. Livin’ in Clarksville. Bridges burned.”

  “I’m sorry. Really.”

  “Don’t need your pity. It’s old news. Now this movie star girl, how does she feel about you?”

  “I don’t know. One minute it seems like she’s interested. Then, well, then she’s coming out of a restaurant with someone else.”

  “People do gotta eat, y’know?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I hear.”

  Chapter 43 CARLIE: Homecoming with a side of Rusty Barn Nails

  It was perfect. I mean, as perfect as things get on this side of eternity. Sixty degrees and sunny. Tables of food and kids running around with sparklers (even though it was daytime). Oh, and Rusty Barn Nails turned out to be a crowd favorite too. The red-headed fiddle player is Brother Dan’s second cousin, Mark. They played everything from Will the Circle Be Unbroken? to Hello Darlin’. At intermission, they even sang Happy Birthday to Mrs. Ida. The lead singer proudly proclaimed Mrs. Ida didn’t look a day over forty. They were right, I guess. She looks more like ten thousand days over forty. But she’s a treasure and we love her.

  Mark even encouraged people to come up on stage (a big flatbed trailer) and buck dance. Before Aunt Charlotte and Chester went up, Aunt Charlotte yelled out with a loud chuckle, “What’s the weight limit on this trailer?” Uncle Bart hollered, “We’re fixin’ to find out, I reckon!” But Aunt Charlotte was not thwarted. She just stumbled up the hay bale stairs and danced like there was no tomorrow. If one more person had gotten up on that trailer, I feel certain the term “homecoming” would have taken on a whole new meaning.

  Dave and I sat on metal chairs and sipped sweet tea while Collin and James ran from hay bale to hay bale pretending bad guys were chasing them.

  With an unusually somber tone, Dave pointed at Collin and said, “He has no idea, right? No idea what I’ve been through.”

  “No. Right now he thinks bad stuff is imaginary. But someday you can tell him. You should tell him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You doin’ okay? I mean, with all the comin’ home stuff. ”

  “Yeah. My first Celebrate Recovery meeting is tonight. I’m feelin’ good though. It’s funny. Dusty once told me that responsibility is a blessing, that it’s the difference between happy people and sad ones. Or something like that. And he’s right. ”

  “I know.”

  “You heard from Ashley?”

  “She called last night. She really wanted to be here, for the homecoming and all. But…”

  “Oh, I know. She’s busy. She’s on a shooting schedule. I never expected her to…” He shook his head and took another drink of tea.

  “To what?”

  “You know, to be able to come to the party.
I mean, how many movie stars get on a plane to come hear Rusty Barn Nails sing a very unconventional version of Islands in the Stream. Unlikely, right?”

  “Well, I don’t know. But I think it would definitely be worth gettin’ on a plane to come see Aunt Charlotte buck dance on a sagging trailer bed while the whole crowd sang Rocky Top at the top of their lungs.”

  His blue eyes twinkled as he laughed. “It was definitely a moment in history. I think Mabel caught it on video too. It’ll probably get a million hits on YouTube. We’ll all say we knew Aunt Charlotte back when…” He stood, gathered some dirty paper plates, and said, “Thank you, Carlie. For this. For everything.”

  “It was our pleasure.”

  Doug gathered the crowd of about fifty around the trailer bed. “This isn’t the time for long speeches. Oh, and Rusty Barn Nails will be doing a tribute to Willie Nelson next so grab some more barbecue and feel free to hang around.” He looked at Dave and smiled. “We’re all here today to celebrate. To celebrate new beginnings. New life. Dave, we all love ya, brother. You know that. And we stand with ya, too.” He held up his cup. “Here’s to the dawning of a new day…and to Sammy’s sweet tea!”

  The crowd yelled out, “Here, here.” Some even let out a whoop. But whether people spoke words or remained silent, we all had spoken with our presence. We believed in new beginnings. Or we were trying to.

  Chapter 44 CARLIE: California, Here I Come

  The LA airport was as hot and crowded as usual. But it was good to be off the plane as my legs and rear were numb from being wedged in those tiny little seats. I choose to believe the seats are tiny rather than believe my rear is large. And yes, the state of denial feels like home.

  My ears were still ringing from several hours of meticulous detail from my new friend, Marge, regarding her exceptionally bright three-year-old granddaughter, Chloe. Thankfully, we landed before she could share diaper horror stories. But then I’m sure Marge thought even Chloe’s diapers smelled like honeysuckle in full bloom. There was something comforting about that. A grandmother’s love.