The waitress returned with their food and drinks. “Thank you,” they each said, glancing up as they were served.
“You know, it was all so beautiful and fun, yet I felt a twinge of emptiness when it was over, like none of it really mattered in the overall scheme of things.” Connie took a bite of her sandwich and then set it back down on the plate. “Oh, it was relaxing and all. Don’t get me wrong. But the partying seemed pointless compared to what I do at the hospital. Know what I mean?”
Lorraine gave a half-hearted nod as she sipped her cola then said, “Since when have you become the philosophical sage?”
“I don’t know. Maybe since I’ve realized what a difference I make at my job. I think that’s what it’s all about, helping others whenever you can to make their lives better.”
“Gee, Connie, I’ve never heard you evoke such provocative wisdom. Souvenir?” Lorraine raised an eyebrow and one side of her mouth.
“I’m serious. I’d go back in a heartbeat, but it just doesn’t seem that important anymore, comparatively.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be flippant. I really do enjoy listening to your newfound insight.”
“That’s encouraging, especially since my plants don’t even listen to me.”
Still the proverbial goofball, Lorraine thought. “Anyway, I’ve been doing some soul searching myself lately and haven’t been able to figure out what’s missing. I really don’t want to talk about it, though.”
“All right, so what’d you do while I was gone?”
Lorraine looked up at the ceiling while she finished chewing and swallowing then said, “I went on a date with Dylan last Saturday and spent Thanksgiving with my parents.”
“How was it?”
“It was delicious, but I ate too much.”
“No! How was your date with Dylan?”
“It was nice.” Lorraine said, pulling a toothpick from the other half of her sandwich. She held the red cellophane flared tip and stared at the wooden pick for a moment, remembering.
“That’s it? It was nice?”
Lifting her head, Lorraine shook it once as though returning from some distant land. “Well, it started out nice, anyway, and we had a lot of fun. We went tobogganing and played Monopoly. Later we drove down by the lake to eat hamburgers, and then I dozed off, and then he asked me to come back to him.”
“So what’d you say?”
“I said I wasn’t ready yet, so I couldn’t.”
Connie swallowed with a noticeable gulp then examined her sandwich. Her flash of insight seemed to have passed. “Kinda dry,” she said, and then continued. “So why aren’t you ready?”
“I don’t know! I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Ah, so Dylan is the missing piece that you’re searching for.” Connie’s voice rose and fell at the assumption. “Gee, Lorraine, from what I remember about your hero description at the café last summer, Dylan’s not only a stand in the rain kind of guy, he happily flops around in the mud for you too.” Connie finished the last bite of her sandwich then licked a glob of mayonnaise from her finger. “He bought you a stunning dress and balloons. The guy’s obviously crazy about you. True hero material if you ask me.”
Lorraine looked up at Connie who now had one of the toothpicks sticking out of her mouth. Lorraine squeezed her eyes closed and lowered her head while rubbing the middle of her forehead with the pads of her fingers. The memory of Dylan wiggling a toothpick in his mouth flashed through her mind, bringing with it the painful reminder of him flirting with her. Over and over again, he sought her out and loved her, watching and waiting and patiently waiting some more.
“What’s the matter? Got a headache?”
Lorraine cupped her chin in her hand and shook her head, no. She wanted to say she had a heartache instead, but turned her face away to avoid further confrontation with this woman who’d suddenly become the insightful sage again. Lorraine’s gaze drifted to the right where a man sat beside a highchair, feeding a small child cereal. The baby’s eyes never left his father’s face, as he eagerly opened his mouth, awaiting the next spoonful.
“Aw, look at that,” Connie said, sappier than a maple tree. “Isn’t that sweet? Too bad they grow up.”
Lorraine’s attention suddenly piqued. She sat up and lightly hit her fist on the table as though the next words out of her mouth would be, by George, I’ve got it! Instead, without introduction or warning, she said, “If they keep eating they always grow, don’t they? And sometimes heroes feed drooling babies or frail old men.”
Lorraine slid out of the booth, grabbed her things and threw a twenty on the table. “My treat. I have to go!”
“Hey, wait a minute. What happened? Where are you going?”
“Don’t you see? An indication of growth is not only eating, but when you can feed yourself and other people too. Everything is suddenly clear. Why didn’t I see it before? The rain, the dress, the soup, even the lock.”
Connie scrunched up one side of her face and mouthed, “The soup? The lock?”
“Yes. I’ll explain later. I have to go.”
“Wait! Where are you going?”
Lorraine slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “To see my hero.”
* * *
As Lorraine drove through the little village, her thoughts turned to the radio station where she’d heard about forgiveness. And as she recalled the speaker’s message, something inside of her clicked. Except for making advances in her career, she’d often been hitting a wall.
It all came together and became clear to her just now and at the restaurant. The people that she’d held captive rose up and revealed themselves in a new light, and she saw them as they really were. As the insight emerged, she saw the resentment she’d harbored toward Dylan for drinking so much in the past. The anger she’d held toward her father for keeping Dylan’s letters a secret, and even the frustration toward Randy for being so busy and haughty. And all of the unforgiveness she’d held toward them had kept her from moving forward in vital areas of her life.
And in all of these people, she realized just then, that none of them really knew any better. It was like Jesus said, they know not what they do, just as she oftentimes didn’t know what to do either. She and they were merely living in the light that they were given at the time, or the light that they had shunned. And as she thought about these things, a miracle took place in her heart. A feeling of compassion welled up within her, as she began to view those who had hurt her, from a totally new perspective. And as this glorious revelation unfolded inside, she slowly turned the forgiveness key and opened the prison door to set each of them free. And in doing so, she was suddenly free too.
The snow floated peacefully to the ground as though surrendering after a long, difficult struggle to stay up in the clouds. And the great tug-of-war that ensued in her own heart was finally over as Lorraine laid down her taut rope and held up her weary hands to the healing balm of Love from above.
She had come to realize that the missing piece was there all along. It was Dylan, yes, but it was so much more. It was God inside of Dylan. The Lord had taken the broken fragments of his life and pieced them together to create a beautiful mosaic. It was obvious now that in order to make their relationship work, she needed to strengthen her own relationship with the Lord to experience the same wholeness in her life too.
When she pulled into Dylan’s driveway, she watched him as he stood near the porch with a shovel in his hand. She could hear herself breathing and feel her heart beating as snow crunched beneath the tires when the car slowly rolled to a stop. The driveway had recently been shoveled as though he’d been waiting for her, expecting her, hoping for this day. She opened the door, hesitating, but only for a moment before she stepped outside and stood perfectly still, as fluffy snowflakes gently rested on her coat like angel feathers falling from Heaven.
Dylan had stopped shoveling long before she parked her car. He stopped the minute he saw the familiar Ford approaching his
home. Now, he too, stood completely still as if he knew why she was there.
Lorraine stood with her arms poised motionless at her sides. She could see short puffs of breath each time she exhaled in the wintry air. Searching his face, their eyes locked and in that poignant moment the freezing air nearly cracked in response to the urgency between them.
Her lip quivered, and a questioning look furrowed Dylan’s brow. When she saw the pain and uncertainty in his face, she lunged forward in an instantaneous run toward him. At the same time and just as quickly, he threw his shovel to the ground and picked her up, as she flung herself into his arms.
“I love you Dylan Clark! You are my hero! You are the man of my dreams, my soul mate. I can’t live without you.” Her cry muffled by his coat.
He held her up off the ground and squeezed her tight, holding her, holding her for a long, long time before setting her down and cradling her head like a delicate bowl in both of his hands. And when his lips touched hers, he kissed her and kissed her as though he couldn’t get enough of her. “You’re my, my—” his voice broke with emotion.
“Missing rib?” she wept.
Dylan gently pulled her head back to see her face. “How did you know?”
“When I saw you feeding Walt Jenkins his soup, I heard what he said.” Her breath caught between sobs. “I’ve seen such a change in you. I want what you have, Dylan. I think I may have it, but I want to be sure.”
She rested her head against his chest, but he lifted it back up and held her out from him to look into her eyes. “What do you mean, ‘you think you may already have it’?”
“When you were unconscious at the hospital, I prayed for you. I asked God to help you recover, and I told Him that I wanted what you have. That I wanted Jesus in my life too.”
“Lori,” Dylan whispered after swallowing hard. He looked out at the snowy horizon, seeming to compose himself and then looked back at Lorraine. He pulled her into his arms then splayed his hand on the back of her head and pressed her to his chest. He held her tight, stroking her head while his left arm clasped her back, fusing her closer to him.
“Dylan, what’s the matter?”
He didn’t answer. He just kissed the top of her head and held her even tighter.
“You’re squashing me, Dylan. What’s wrong?”
He relaxed his embrace. “Nothing is wrong, Lorraine. Everything is right. Absolutely right.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“The ceremony is at two o’clock.” Lorraine doodled a few small circles on a notepad. “Yes, someone is there now. I’d like most of the flowers arranged around the podium and along the altar.” She paused, and then said, “The others can go in the reception hall. Yes, Green Valley. Thank you.” Lorraine closed her cell phone.
“Nothing like making people work on a holiday.” Connie stood in front of the mirror combing her hair.
“The reception will end early enough so people can spend Christmas Eve with their families. Besides, if the florist didn’t want to work today, he wouldn’t be open.”
“Calm down, I’m only teasing.”
Lorraine pressed her hand to her stomach as she walked to the window. “I’m nervous enough without you adding to it. I feel like a new bride.” Lorraine turned and looked at Connie. “We never had a big ceremony or reception the first time, you know.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Lorraine gazed out the bedroom window of Connie’s apartment. A flurry of snowflakes drifted to the ground in the wintry wonderland. “It looks like a Currier & Ives painting. The only thing missing is the horse drawn sleigh. It’s beautiful.”
Connie walked over and stood next to Lorraine. “The village always looks like a fairyland when it snows. It’s a beautiful day for a wedding.”
Lorraine turned and took both of Connie’s hands in her own. “I can hardly believe this is happening. Thank you for your help these past few weeks. I’m so glad that you’re my best friend and my maid-of-honor.”
“Okay, cut it out. You’re going to make me cry and smear all my makeup.”
Lorraine dabbed a finger near her own eye. “Me too,” she smiled. “Only two more hours. I should start getting ready.”
Connie unzipped the dress and released it from the hanger, while Lorraine removed her robe. “This dress is so beautiful. It’s hard to believe Dylan picked it out for you. ‘A beautiful dress that’ll make him fall over,’ remember?”
“Yes,” Lorraine smiled at the memory of her description of her ideal hero. Dylan was heroic in ways she never imagined possible. He’d proven himself to be more than a fantasy man, as there was nothing phony about him. He didn’t put on airs to impress other people or follow the crowd down easy paths. He was strong and real in so many ways that it would take all day to list his traits. But in her eyes, hero summed him up perfectly.
Lorraine slipped the dress over her head and the length of the gown floated over her legs.
Connie zipped the back of the dress and then lifted a delicate necklace from the jewelry box on the dresser. The single pearl with the silver clasp added the finishing touch to Lorraine’s ensemble. Connie took a step back and said, “You look radiant.”
“Thank you.” Lorraine bowed her head, almost in reverence, and gently touched the pearl. Then she looked up at Connie, and said, “You look beautiful too.”
“It’s the body shaper. I couldn’t find a girdle in my size.”
Lorraine burst out laughing and shook her head. “You sure know how to ruin a mood.”
“I know,” Connie said, smiling. “It keeps things interesting, doesn’t it? Now come over here like a good little girl, so I can curl and pin up your hair.”
Decorated to near perfection, a huge wreath hung behind the pulpit. Swags of pine with tiny white lights festooned the altar, and just as she’d instructed the florist, pots of red poinsettias graced the front of the church.
The ceremony was short and the message clear: “Till death do you part.” Yet, even death would only be a temporary separation, since they both had the assurance of eternal life.
Lorraine scanned the reception hall and her gaze stopped at her maid-of-honor. Connie had a sprig of holly stuck in her poufy blonde hair to match her green sateen dress, and she was conveniently steering some handsome young man under the mistletoe that kept reappearing from her purse.
Lorraine smiled.
A few tables over, Beth tugged her mother’s sleeve and said loud enough for all to hear, “I want a cookie.”
“Careful, don’t spill Mommy’s punch. Now, what do you say?”
“I want a cookie,” she repeated, pausing between each word as though her mother didn’t understand her the first time.
Lorraine covered her mouth to hide her smile.
“We say please, remember?” Linda reminded her.
“Please remember, I want a cookie.”
Linda shrugged and handed Beth a wedding cookie.
Beth popped the whole thing into her mouth, and then smiled at Dylan where he was sitting on a folding chair. As Beth inched her way closer, Dylan leaned forward, resting his arms across his knees waiting for her to come over.
“I want to take your picture,” Beth said, swinging the apron of her pinafore side to side with her left hand while clutching a camera with the other.
“If you take a picture of me, I’m going to take five pictures of you.”
Beth’s hand flew to her mouth as she giggled and squealed and scurried off to tell her mother.
“Flirting on our wedding day?” Lorraine teased, as she stood behind Dylan and slid her hand across his shoulders.
“Well, if you didn’t come around, it would’ve been Beth. I may have had to wait twenty years or so, but she was your only rival.”
Lorraine smiled as she watched Beth’s curls and crinolines bounce when she scampered away.
Dylan’s mother noted the scene with obvious admiration and approval. She took a step closer and gave them both a warm hug and kiss on the chee
k. “You two make such a beautiful couple, even more so the second time around,” she smiled.
Lorraine thanked her mother-in-law for the compliment, and Dylan gave her a gentle squeeze.
Mr. Crawford stepped up to Dylan and shook his hand. “I love my daughter, you know.” The statement seemed more of a warning than a declaration.
“I love her too, sir,” Dylan immediately replied.
A slight upward turn appeared on one side of Mr. Crawford’s mouth. “You take good care of her now,” he said, as he smacked Dylan’s back a bit firmer than expected.
“You have my word.”
“Do I detect a smile, Dad?” Lorraine reached over to hug her father.
“It’s Christmas,” he grunted, and his smile grew a bit wider.
Lorraine smiled too, knowing that in his own way, he had come to terms with her decision. She turned to her mother and gave her a hug. “We’ll stop by to see you when we get back.”
Mrs. Crawford cupped her hand to Lorraine’s cheek. “Don’t worry about us. You just have a nice time.”
Walt Jenkins leaned on his walker and then flicked the lights to get the guests’ attention. “It’s about time these two lovebirds cut the wedding cake. My blood sugar’s dropping by the minute.”
The guest’s laughed.
Thelma stood beside her husband nodding at Dylan. She discretely sidled over to him and whispered, “Nothing is impossible with God,” and then she smiled up at him.
Dylan gave Thelma a gentle hug. “Thank you for everything,” he said. And then he turned and touched the small of Lorraine’s back. “Shall we go, Mrs. Clark?” He guided her to the table where Lorraine picked up the cake knife. Dylan placed his hand over hers and together they cut the first slice, as guests gathered around with cameras and cell phones aimed in their direction.
Smiling toward the crowd, Lorraine raised her cake threateningly in Dylan’s direction. Everyone laughed, but she and Dylan fed each other without losing a crumb. Dylan kissed a bit of icing from her lip, and whispered, “Your lips have sweetened the frosting, my love.”
The Missing Piece (Inspirational Love Story) Page 23