Lock, Stock, and Over a Barrel

by Melody Carlson

  “That’s great. You should be happy, right?”

  “I should be happy. But all I feel is confusion. And Aunt Dee’s will just muddies the water even more. I honestly wish she’d bestowed her estate on all the relatives, splitting it evenly among all of us. Then I wouldn’t feel so much pressure over this decision. I’ve never been good at important decisions. Haven’t you noticed? I’m the queen of second-guesses.”

  “I don’t see why you need to decide too quickly. You still have most of a year left. There’s no real hurry. Not yet anyway.”

  She nodded. But looking forward to more tortured months like this—feeling desperate and torn and confused and pressured—well, she wasn’t sure how much she could endure. And she decided, sitting there on the pleasant porch overlooking the pretty yard, she would be wise to come up with some kind of backup plan.

  Chapter 23

  Daphne waffled back and forth over the next few days. On Sunday, after having lunch with Olivia and Jeff and listening to them reminiscing about their wedding and how it was the happiest day of their life and how it took so long to plan everything, she had nearly made up her mind to marry Ryan. After all, wouldn’t that simplify her life? She would have plenty of time to plan a perfect wedding. Plus she wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the year in limbo, wondering whether or not she was going to be homeless. It seemed an easy way out.

  But the next day, chatting with Mick in the garden, she was completely unsure again. Mick didn’t like Ryan and he had no problem letting Daphne know. To make matters worse, he seemed to assume that Aunt Dee wouldn’t approve of Ryan either. How he’d come up with this was a mystery, but she didn’t take it lightly either.

  Then she had a nightmare on Tuesday, so vivid and frightening that she woke in the middle of the night shaking and scared. It had been one of those life-threatening dreams where she was all alone and desperate. She woke up longing for someone to talk to, someone who could hold her and calm her and comfort her. The idea of having Ryan by her side was extremely tempting.

  Then on Wednesday morning, after battling the feeling she was a complete and total fraud—who was she to give romantic advice to anyone—she compelled herself to sit down to write the Dear Daphne column again. But the first letter she read felt uncomfortably close to home. So much so she wasn’t sure if she could answer it but knew she had to try.

  Dear Daphne,

  Since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of being married. I’ve been dating the same man (Guy A) for more than seven years. I felt certain I loved him and that he loved me. But Guy A just can’t seem to commit to marriage. I’ll be forty next year and I don’t think I can keep waiting like this. Meanwhile there’s a nice man at work (Guy B) who has shown serious interest in me, plus he’s the kind of man who could easily commit to marriage and family. However, I’m not really attracted to Guy B. But I suspect if I break up with Guy A and start dating Guy B, I will be married before I turn forty. So please tell me, do I break up with Guy A to achieve my dream of getting married?

  Indecisive in Indianapolis

  Daphne stared at the computer screen, wondering how her aunt would answer this one. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Based on the number of letters received weekly, it was clear Aunt Dee could never have answered all of them. Perhaps this was one that should be set aside too. And yet this woman sounded so desperate. Kind of like Daphne. What would the wise Daphne Delacorte tell her? After several attempts and several deletions, she finally came up with a response.

  Dear Indecisive,

  It sounds as if you’ve reached a crossroads. Based on your letter, Guy A might still love you, but he does not want to marry you. Guy B wants to commit to marriage, but you may not love him. The question is, what do you want? Do you only want love? Then stay with Guy A. Do you only want marriage? Then marry Guy B. Or do you want both? If you want both, I suggest you kiss both guys good-bye and just wait. Hopefully Guy C will show up, and he’ll be a man you can both love and marry. And if not, you won’t hate yourself for settling for less than what you truly want.

  Daphne

  As she hit Save she wondered why she couldn’t be as strong-minded as Daphne Delacorte. If she could tell this indecisive woman to go for what she wanted and not settle for less, why couldn’t she say the same thing to herself? Why couldn’t she be simple and straightforward and to the point with herself? Make up her mind and stick to it? Daphne decided to actually write out the letter she’d made up in her head a few days ago. The words might not be exactly the same, but the basic question remained unchanged.

  Dear Daphne,

  I was so wounded when the man I fell in love with broke my heart that I’m afraid I’ve shut myself off emotionally. I’m worried I’ll never experience that kind of true love again. Is it possible that even though I’m only thirty-four, I might never be able to fall in love again—with my whole heart? Will I be forced to remain shutdown and single for the rest of my days? Please, help me, before I settle for something I don’t really want.

  Hopeless on Huckleberry Lane

  She took in a deep breath, and longing for Daphne Delacorte to step in and write a sensible answer, she started to type—almost without thinking.

  Dear Hopeless,

  I suspect that everyone gets their heart broken at some point in life. But a broken heart, like a broken bone, will heal if it’s treated properly and enough time passes. I remember when I broke my arm when I fell from a tree. The arm hurt so badly that even after the cast came off, I babied and protected it because I was worried I might injure it again. But the doctor assured me the bone was stronger than ever—even stronger than before I broke it. It took me a while, but eventually I started taking chances with my arm. Soon I was climbing trees again. It’s time for you to take chances too. Your heart is probably sturdier than you realize. Don’t settle for less than you deserve. And don’t give up hope.

  Daphne

  Feeling surprisingly optimistic, Daphne wrote responses to a couple more letters. These were simpler letters that didn’t hit quite so close to home. She was satisfied when she finished the last of them, and she was just getting ready to send the new batch off to Jake when her phone rang. She’d been sort of expecting that Ryan would call her before the week was up. But so far he hadn’t. And she didn’t have his number or she might’ve called him and told him her answer—although she shouldn’t because it changed from moment to moment. As she went for her phone, she decided that if that was him on the other end, she would gently but firmly decline his proposal.

  But it wasn’t Ryan. It was her dad. “I thought you and I could meet for dinner tonight,” he said cheerfully.

  “Sure. I was just missing you.”

  “Well, I’ve been running around like a turkey with his head cut off.”

  She laughed. “I thought it was supposed to be chicken.”

  “This is my version. Anyway, Karen’s going great guns on selling my house, and I’m busy moving into the condo. So life has been a little crazy.”

  “I had a feeling the move had begun.”

  “Yes, I wanted to surprise you—I thought I’d be all settled in and I’d invite you for dinner before you figured it out. But everything takes longer than I expected.”

  She told him about driving by the house. “It was so sad seeing it like that—like it wasn’t your house anymore.”

  “I’ll be glad when it’s not my house anymore. I’m perfectly happy at the condo. Well, I’ll be a little happier when I get unpacked and settled. I couldn’t even find a tie to wear to work today. But I like being there. It already feels more carefree. And hopefully the house will sell soon.”

  They agreed to meet at Midge’s Diner at six. Then Daphne hung up and hit Send on her Dear Daphne column. As soon as she did, she realized the file she’d just sent Jake also contained her own letter, from Hopeless on Huckleberry Lane. There
was no way to get the e-mail back, but she could at least warn him it was a mistake. She didn’t want that letter to go out to the papers. So she shot him a quick e-mail, explaining that was a bogus letter and asking him not to read it.

  As she closed down her computer, the doorbell rang and she was surprised to see Ricardo’s mother, Maria Martoni, standing on her porch. “Hello, Mrs. Martoni,” Daphne said happily.

  “Please, call me Maria.”

  Daphne nodded. “Come on in, Maria.”

  “You’re sure I’m not disturbing you?”

  “Not at all. I just finished writing for the day. Can I get you a cup of tea or something cold?”

  “No, thank you. This shouldn’t take long. I would’ve called on the telephone, but I like talking to my neighbors in person.”

  They sat in the front room and Daphne, curious as to the nature of this visit, waited for Maria to continue.

  “You might not know this, but your aunt, or maybe I should say your grandmother—”

  “It’s okay if you still call her my aunt. I still think of her as Aunt Dee.”

  “Oh, that’s good. Anyway Dee was an active member of our neighborhood association.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that.”

  Maria smiled. “Yes, well, Dee served as the secretary for our group for years and years. Ever since the association first started up, back in the eighties. Anyway, we have a meeting once a month. It’s next week, and we wondered—and we hope you don’t think it’s presumptuous—but we hoped you might consider taking Dee’s place.”

  “As secretary?”

  Maria nodded. “She was so good at recording our minutes and sending them out to everyone. You know, she used to deliver them to all the neighbors. Over the years, most of us got e-mail. But she would still take copies to the neighbors who don’t have computers. She said it was her way to catch up with them.”

  “That sounds like her.”

  “So, what do you think? Would you consider being our secretary, Daphne?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you!” Maria stood with a big smile. “Everyone will be so pleased.” She grasped Daphne’s hand. “Your aunt would be proud of you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Maria gave her a curious look. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “No, of course not. What?”

  “Well, I noticed the young man at your housewarming party last week. The one who was staying so close to you. I believe his name was Ryan?”

  “Yes. We were friends in New York.”

  “What I wanted to know is whether or not he’s a serious friend. I mean a boyfriend kind of friend.” She looked embarrassed. “Don’t tell anyone, but I am asking for my son.”

  “Ricardo wants to know about Ryan?”

  She waved her hand. “Ricardo hasn’t said anything. But I know my Ricardo. I can tell he’s had his eye on you.”

  “Really?” Daphne wasn’t sure if this was just Maria’s hopeful thinking or something more substantial.

  “And nothing would make me happier than to see my Ricardo settled. He’s too old to be a bachelor. Don’t you think?”

  Daphne shrugged. “I have noticed that Kellie at the diner seemed to have her eye on Ricardo.”

  Maria waved her hand. “No, no, Kellie is not right for him. Not at all.”

  “She’s very pretty.”

  Maria shook her head. “Looks are not everything.”

  “No . . .”

  “Don’t tell Ricardo I spoke to you about this. He says I interfere too much.”

  Daphne couldn’t help but chuckle as she walked Maria to the front door. Now why on earth should Ricardo say that?

  “The meeting is next Wednesday at seven. At my house this month.” Maria shook hands and thanked her again. “And remember, don’t tell Ricardo about what I said.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Amused that Maria seemed to have put her mother’s stamp of approval on Daphne for her son, she vaguely wondered if Maria and Dad had been plotting behind their children’s backs.

  Perhaps there was something to be said for previous centuries when matchmakers or parents controlled the marital fate of their children. Maybe fathers or mothers really did know best.

  Chapter 24

  Daphne decided to do something she used to do when it was time to make a decision. Make a list. Usually she made a list of pros and cons. And because she was so good at seeing all the negative possibilities, the con side almost always won. Then she would make the “safe” decision to stay with the status quo, which was precisely why nothing in her life had changed over the past ten years.

  On Thursday night, knowing Ryan would show up tomorrow to find out her decision, she sat with a pad of paper and pencil and wrote the pros and cons of marrying Ryan. To her relief, the cons truly did outnumber the pros. And perhaps the biggest, most glaring con was the fact that she simply did not want to marry him. It felt thrillingly liberating to look at those words—I do not want to marry him!

  Of course, on the heels of this revelation came the nagging question—what if she didn’t find anyone she wanted to marry, or what if no one besides Ryan wanted to marry her? Fortunately, she didn’t need to concern herself with that now. Tomorrow she would tell Ryan her decision, she would wish him well, and then she would move on with her life.

  Except that tomorrow came but Ryan did not. Daphne had purposely remained at home for the entire day, expecting him to show up. But when he didn’t, she felt both vexed and concerned. She had no idea where he was or what he’d been doing all week, but it seemed uncharacteristic for him to be a no-show.

  On Saturday, she was still concerned for Ryan and wondered if she should make an attempt to track him down. But at the same time she felt irritated. It seemed wrong and flaky for him to string her along like this after his proclamation of love last week. To distract herself, she got out her bike, which she had named Bluebell, and pedaled to town to get some groceries at The Apple Basket.

  “I was just thinking of you,” Truman announced as she came into the store.

  “Really?” She smiled. “That’s nice.”

  “So I’m curious, Daphne. You seem like such a nice person. Do you attend a church?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Are you looking for a church to join?”

  “No. I actually go to a pretty cool church. But I was thinking about how you’re kind of new in town. I mean I get that you grew up here, but I know how you’d been in New York for a long time. And I thought you might be interested in the singles group in my church. That is, unless there’s one in your church.”

  She smiled. “The one in my church is more for older people. Like my dad’s age.”

  “This group is young. And they’re fun.” He gave her a shy smile. “You interested?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. It’s at seven tonight. Want me to pick you up?”

  “Tonight?”

  “You’ve got plans.” He looked disappointed.

  “No . . . tonight’s fine.” She thought about Ryan but decided she didn’t care. He was making her wait. If he showed up, she would make him wait.

  She tried not to think about Ryan throughout the day. Yes, it was disconcerting. But she was determined not to obsess. And when Truman showed up at a little before seven, she cheerfully went with him to the singles group.

  Once she got there, she was immediately dismayed by two things. For starters, it felt like everyone was younger than her. They all seemed fresh out of college, and although they were fun, like Truman had said, they seemed very young. Second, the males were outnumbered by females by nearly a three-to-one ratio.

  Even so, she tried to act congenial. And she didn’t even feel jealous when some of the younger women ope
nly flirted with Truman. After all, it wasn’t as if this was a date. He had simply invited her to his singles group. A singles group she wouldn’t be coming back to—at least that’s what she thought until the senior pastor got up to speak. Apparently Pastor Andrew didn’t usually address this particular group, but since their usual leader was out of town, he’d offered to step in.

  “As some of you know, I’m somewhat of an expert on being single,” he began, and this brought a knowing chuckle from some of them.

  Pastor Andrew wasn’t particularly handsome, but he was nice looking in a short and slightly balding sort of way. And he had what Daphne would describe as a trustworthy sort of countenance. Also he had a nice, soothing speaking voice. But more than those characteristics, it was what he said that captured her attention. He talked about his own journey through singleness, sharing openly about some of the relationships he’d been in during his youth and into his twenties and thirties, and how he’d been hurt more times than he cared to think about it.

  “I guess you’d say I was a slow learner. Because it wasn’t until I hit forty, just a few years ago, that I figured it out. Or at least I got smarter. Now, I know none of you young ladies will relate to this, but all those years I was striving and trying to find the perfect relationship, searching for just the right woman, it felt like I had this biological time clock ticking away inside of me. I was absolutely certain I would never find true fulfillment or my complete purpose in life if I didn’t find and marry my soul mate.” He paused. “Anyone relate to that?”

  Nervous twitters of laughter seemed to confirm this.

  “And it was as I was turning forty that it really hit me. Oh, I’m sure I’d heard the message before. I’d probably even preached it myself. But it wasn’t until that point that it all snapped into place and made sense. I realized with complete and utter clarity that I was looking for a human being to fulfill me and make me whole. When what I needed to do was to allow God to fulfill me and make me whole. Suddenly it was crystal clear that until I reached that place where God was making me whole, I wouldn’t have all that much to offer to a soul mate anyway.”