Chapter One, Episode 119 - Soul Sisters - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
Writing about relationships is another part of this ongoing saga. Maintaining personality differences as well as differences in types of relationships, new, old or ongoing ones, has been another interesting writing exercise to engage with. Author Stephen King says: read, read, read. It has been in this way that I learn some of the ways to accomplish this. Often at the expense of household chores! 

Soul sisters

It started with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Dez Eliot had been thinking of Matt Hamilton. His brown curls and deep brown eyes. Should she pursue him? Relationships for either of them in the past had not exactly worked out well. In the past, any relationships had been short with only one lasting a full year. Matt was newly divorced, but was he ready to jump into dating? I wonder what Emmie would say?  The thought of asking her sister for advice flashed through her mind. Once more, she felt a warm, fuzzy feeling and at the same time her sister was wondering about asking Dez for relationship advice. Laughing out loud, she knew what Emmie would say. ‘Dez. It’s your decision. How long have you known Matt? I wouldn’t have said this a few years ago, but go with your heart.’ That would have been the short answer. No, she wouldn’t ask Emmie. And she wouldn’t go with her heart. That sounded too flowery for Dez. But she would go with her gut - her gut told her ‘Go for it……carefully.’

~~~~~

It was the last day of the workshop The Care and Management of Fruit Trees. Dez had watched everyday as Matt opened the workshop. He was tanned and just absolutely fine looking to Dez. Each day, she took a chance to talk with him……about apple trees and how to take care of them. She had good reason, Dez and Emmie, reunited after a decade of estrangement in the early days of the pandemic, had formed a bond. Her sister had hired Dez as a project manager for her apple orchard. Dez knew Matt. She needed help for this project. Matt hosted a workshop. Simple. It turned out to be not so simple. Her mind wandered constantly away from how to prune and pick to whether he liked Italian, Asian or just plain food. Not that she was much of a cook, but she did know how to choose the wine for a meal. Now it was the final day. She’d have no more excuses to talk with him. At 45 years of age, she still felt like a teenager crushing on the handsomest guy in the school. 

The last session of the day was a final walking tour through Matt’s orchard. Matt called on different attendees to point out what had interested them most through the week. He asked them to indicate features of their interest on any one of the trees. When he called on Dez, her mouth felt like it had sand in it and her heart raced. Later, if asked what she had said her mind went blank, only remembering that the group applauded ‘her eloquence’. She really felt she had never been eloquent in her life. 

When everyone else had left at the end, Dez hung back: ‘to help Matt put away everything’. Finally, after he had his yard back, all the antiseptic wipes and extra masks were gone, and any evidence of the workshop were tucked up in his truck, she decided to say something. To herself she said  This is ridiculous. I like Matt and I am pretty sure we’re on the same wavelength. But I’m not sure, so here goes nothing. To Matt she said: “I’m on my way now, but I would like to invite you over for supper. Tomorrow or Sunday? It won’t be anything fancy, but you’ve put on a great Workshop and deserve a home cooked meal.” She was ready for him to say “Thanks, but no thanks.”  Her mouth opened to keep babbling when she heard him say something….. “What did you say? Tomorrow night?” She was met with a broad grin. “I’ve been watching you all week, Dez. I’ve wanted to say something to you, but never found the right time or place. You always left right after the last session.” He closed his truck's tailgate with a metallic bang. “I know we’ve known each other a few years, but you seemed different this week - in a nice way.”

~~~~~

The next night after a supper of chicken casserole and spinach salad, the two old friends did up the dishes together. He washed and she dried. When they were done and all the dishes put away, Dez poured them each a glass of the Merlot she had chosen. They went out on her balcony in the cool of the evening and just sat quietly for a long time. She finally said “Matt, I enjoyed this evening so very much. Thank you for coming.”  

He leaned on the railing looking out over the park and the city. “I enjoyed it too, Dez. I’d like us to do it again sometime soon. Talking about only apple trees or bees is getting pretty old.” 

“I have learned not to worry about love; 

But to honour its coming with all my heart.”

~ Alice Walker

Chapter One, Episode 118 - Troubled - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
Continuing on my overuse of he/she, an unexpected value of being alert to this little writing glitch showed up. In this Episode, with only Emelina Beaufort and Jeremy Crawford, they are confronting their mutual past. In their rather tense discussion, it seemed to me that judicious use of a character's name specified that character's individuality. Utilizing the common pronouns (he/she) seemed to level the playing field in their discussion. If anyone has a different perspective, please tell me. 

Troubled

Frustrated, Jeremy pushed the loose photos away from him. “You know, Mrs. Emelina Beaufort, we have spent all morning looking at these damn photos. We are wasting our time. Do you really think that either Elaine or Mike would want us to be doing all this?” Leaning back in his lawn chair, his long legs stretched out, feet crossed, Dr. Jeremy Crawford put down the old photo album he had been looking at. 

“What do you mean ‘wasting our time’, Jeremy? We needed to do this. Look them both right in their beautiful faces and remember all our good times ~ and some not so good times.” Emmie's mind was set. “I’ve essentially been away from everything for five years. You’ve been buried in your work for the last four years - and especially this last four months with Covid.” Jeremy’s face tensed and he sat forward, leaning towards her. “So can’t we just leave it all behind and get on with our lives. We've only got a few days left in this week.”

Sitting on the floor of the rustic outside patio, Emmie tilted her head towards Jeremy, turning the pages of the album he had just put down. “I suppose that’s possible. But maybe you would be able to do that better than I have been able to. I will tell you that once we’re finished here, I want to box up all of these pictures and set them aside……….and get on with our lives. I would like to choose one picture of the four of us…..”

Jeremy interrupted “Why? And do you have to do that today? If you haven’t let go of Mike yet, tell me and we can go from there.” He was not a little bit upset. But what could he do? He needed to go for a walk. “Emmie, I want you to stay here with the photos - hard copy and digital. I’ll leave my laptop open so you can see what’s there. For now, I need to go for a walk.” He leaned in and kissed Emelina on top of her head. She felt a shock of anxiety go through to her gut. He strode away from her and down to the beach, his hands pushed into his pockets.

“Jeremy……..” But he was too far away for the Emmie’s tiny, frightened voice. Going into the kitchen, she poured a glass of lemonade. Staring out the door of the cabin, seeing him in the distance she thought Was I wrong to insist on these trips down memory lane? I just don’t know. Do I need ‘just one picture’? From where she stood, Emmie studied the two small piles of loose pictures, the few albums and their laptops strewn on the patio. She looked up at his ever receding back as he walked towards the hiking path. More thoughts flooded her mind Did I get what I needed from going over the photos with him? Do I really need even just one? Or do I want more time with Jeremy? What would Dez be telling me? Aloud Emmie said. “I’m making this decision on my own. Dez would just shake her head and tell me I’m crazy to let him get away!”  Emmie laughed out loud, scooped up all the photos and carried them in the cabin, returning to the patio for the laptops. Putting them all on the table, she closed and locked the door and set off at a run towards the hiking path. Slowing, she could see Jeremy at the top of the path sitting on a flat rock, his elbows on his knees, chin on his hands. 

“I’ll not be a weak woman anymore.” She had reached him and before he could stand up she spoke. “First of all, I don’t believe I was wrong to insist that we go over the past together. Do I need one picture of the four of us? No, but I think it would be nice. Do I need it today? No.” Aloud, she answered all of the questions that had plagued her. Jeremy, taken by surprise, stayed sitting, jaw slack, listening to Emelina. “I believe that our morning session going over all those old memories was good, at least for me. I know now that Michael is gone and that I want more time with you, Jeremy. I don’t know what kind of a relationship it will become - just a casual week away from our personal lives, or something deeper.”  She paused and took a breath. “Emelina. Is that you?” Her bold assertion surprised him. While he had been sitting on his own, thinking and thinking, he was not sure that he knew what he thought he had known. Did he really want time with Emelina or was he trying to find just a tiny bit of the life he had had with Elaine? Looking at all the images - glossy or digital - he felt torn.

There in the sunshine, away from the worlds they had each come from, Emelina and Jeremy embraced. They made no decisions that day or the days remaining in their little vacation. The pictures were packed away and put in the trunk of Jeremy’s car. Laptops were shut down and put away. They walked on the beach. They swam sans bathing suits. They roasted marshmallows. They slept in together. They cooked their meals together. They learned an easier, more relaxed way to be together.

“Trouble is part of your life, and if you don’t share it, you don’t give 

the person who loves you enough chance to love you enough.”

~ Dinah Shore

Chapter One, Episode 117 - Braving the Past - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
For this episode I have continued to be alert for an overuse of pronouns (he/she) and names (only two characters in this episode). Therefore, much of my revision has been a reworking of sentences to improve the flow. I must admit to some frustration as it really is easier to have sentences march dutifully across the page. 

Otherwise, I did not find any typo's, spelling errors or punctuation issues.

Braving the Past

“Bring pictures.” Emmie's text flew through the air to Jeremy. She had spent all night going through her digital photo albums and hard copy albums. Two boxes of tissues and half of Cook’s chocolate cake later, Emmie made a decision. It was time to confront their ghosts if they were to continue seeing each other.  

“Which ones?” As quickly, Jeremy's text ping-ed on her phone. He looked at all the photos scattered across his kitchen table, as well as the digital ones fading in and out on his laptop screen. There was Elaine laughing - she was so beautiful. Their traditional decorating of Christmas trees at the Beaufort Estate with Michael and Emelina. After the advent of cell phone cameras, so many selfies! Michael and Jeremy pulling silly faces. Emelina and Elaine dressed as Greek goddesses at a Hallowe’en do.

Emmie texted back. “Any with the four of us - or even just one or two of us.” They had planned a romantic week away with each other. Hibernating in a quaint cabin on a little bay. Running in the sand to splash and swim in its clear blue water. Strolling along the private beach that ringed their sanctuary. Climbing the grassy slopes rising above the cabin. Bittersweet tears for her dear Michael pushed aside any notion of a new romance. 

Her phone lit up again “Bring your laptop. I’m bringing mine. We'll watch all the digital ones together.” His own vision of this romantic week had been drowned in his tears too. Annoyed and wanting a real life, he wanted to make something of this grief that had consumed him. There were too many tears every day, whether he wanted them or not. Speaking to Elaine’s photo in the gilt frame he said “I still love you and always will.”

~~~~~

The last text the night before they left on holiday grinning emoji.  “And don’t forget your bathing suit.” In the morning, with two small suitcases packed, he loaded up his silver chariot. One suitcase had his laptop and all the photos, the other with his bathing suit and a change of clothes. The morning sun, in its ascent, hung just above the horizon. It lit up the highway to the Estate with a brilliant glare, the red sky above was clear and clean. Thankfully, traffic was light - he could hardly wait to pick up his old friend - this new love.

Emelina had purposely rented the little cabin by a private bay that she and Michael had never visited. When she snapped the clasp on her briefcase that held her laptop and her photos, she shared a laugh with her beautiful Michael. “I did try to keep you away, but as always you just had to come along.” From her bedroom window she saw Jeremy coming up the drive. Gathering everything up, she went down the few steps to the front door. Emmie paused. She hadn’t let anyone know where she was going. Should she? No. Any of them knew how to reach her. There was nothing pressing on the Estate, right now, anyway. Her moment of hesitation passed, she went to Jeremy. After parking at the front door, he got out and opened the trunk of his car. She put her things in and before he could close the trunk, she embraced him. Lifting her face to his, she said “We’re going to be all right Jeremy.” He kissed her and in a husky voice he said “We are better than all right, already, Emmie.”

~~~~~

The photographs stayed by the front door of their cabin for three days. They did stroll on the beach and hiked on the grassy slopes. Later each day, they walked into the tiny hamlet for a few groceries and swam in the little bay. On the fourth day, Emmie woke up, her hair tousled from sleep. She rolled over to face Jeremy. “Wake up, sleepy. It’s time.” With eyes still closed, he smiled “What for?” Turning away to get up and pulling the sheets around her, leaving him cold and shivering, she laughed. “For coffee, silly. And photographs. We’re not going to ignore them any longer.” Jeremy moaned. “I love the coffee idea, but do we really have to look at the photos?” Her shoulders set, her voice steady she said “Definitely, my dear. It has to be done. Elaine and Michael will keep haunting us until we do. Do you want us to continue or not?” Emmie was firm, something that he had forgotten about her. “Oh, all right.” He grabbed at the corner of the sheet wrapped around her. Avoiding his reach, with two quick steps she disappeared into their tiny bathroom. “Oh, all right. I’ll get the coffee on while you’re making yourself more beautiful than you already are.” Jeremy pulled on his walking shorts, dragged a t-shirt over his head and in bare feet padded across the room to the ‘kitchen’. 

“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, 

penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.”

~ Maya Angelou

Chapter One, Episode 116 - Where You Are - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

My attention, for this Episode, has been on the frequency of my use of certain pronouns or the characters' names (he/she/Emelina/Jeremy). Old school days lessons have had to be abandoned and replaced more with creative word crafting in the hope that the flow of the episode has been improved, while maintaining the intent to show this budding relationship.

Additions and/or deletions for some punctuation has also been part of this exercise.

Where You Are

It was green. It said 0636. It had been buzzing for six minutes. "...don’t want to hear it.” Jeremy groaned and turned his back on the offending clock. Raising himself up on his elbows, he punched at his pillows, and flopped back down. He knew it was futile to block out the ‘damned clock’. Jeremy threw back his duvet, gave his pillows a final punch and groaned again. “I might as well get up. Can’t sleep now.” He flung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, hands holding onto the mattress. Leaning forward, he hung his head. “Really? I’m on my own time now. Three weeks off and I can’t go anywhere for two weeks. Just stay home and sleep. But I guess sleep will have to come later.” Floor to ceiling windows bounced his words around his bedroom. Dr. Crawford was now just plain Jeremy for three whole weeks after a hectic three months working at the hospital with Covid19 patients. His body was still in full alert mode for getting to work. Wash your hands, Scrubs. Masks. ….Wash your hands, Scrubs. Masks.... He felt naked, devoid of the routine. Suddenly, sitting straight up and listening intently, he heard the tiny click of a lock. Head up, he slid his feet slowly into his slippers, picked his housecoat carefully and slowly from the floor where it had landed the night before. His eyes never left his open bedroom door. He sighed and relaxed “I must be imagining things. Who would be here at this hour of the morning, who even has a key? ........................... fresh coffee!?”

“Good morning, Jeremy. Are you awake?” Emelina’s cheerful voice rang into Jeremy’s bedroom. Jeremy stood up and pulled his robe around him quickly. “Emmie? What are you doing here? Where did you even get a key? I’m supposed to be isolating, remember?”

Emelina laughed behind her blue non-surgical mask. “It's me. Don’t you remember? We planned this, and I’m not staying - just delivering this morning.” Jeremy, still confused but now awake heard her say “Stay over there. You’re not awake yet. This morning’s pick up is from The Bean Roaster just down the road from here. Large coffee, no cream, no sugar and a double bacon and egger with fries.” Looking a little less confused, he edged toward the kitchen bar where his breakfast was set up. “I’m sorry that I’m a bit late, Jeremy, but the line-ups for take out breakfast were really long.”

“Emmie, you are an angel. Do I have to wait til you’re gone to start eating? I do remember now. Two weeks was too long to wait but it’s necessary to make sure neither of us gets sick. I’d hate to carry all this virus stuff to you and the rest at the Estate. I took a big risk going to the wedding but with our masks and distancing we were lucky.” Emmie waggled her finger at his question about when he could "No you can't start eating. Jeremy pulled a sad face. “OK, I’ll wait ’til you’re gone. You are absolutely sweet to do this.”

~~~~~

Emelina Beaufort and Dr. Jeremy Crawford, old friends whose spouses had both passed away. Michael Beaufort and Dr. Crawford were best friends long before either of them were married. Michael passed away five years earlier leaving Emelina in deep grief. Elaine Crawford, Jeremy’s childhood sweetheart passed away just one year after Michael. The four of them had spent a lot of time together. Vacationing, going out for evenings of dinner and dancing, or just sharing their homes with each other. On their own they drifted away without even thinking about it. Jeremy had come out to the Estate one afternoon not long before James, the butler and Martha, the housekeeper had married. He stayed the night and relaxed. In the short time he had been there, they both realized they would like to renew their friendship but had done little about it. No one at the estate knew, that in the romantic atmosphere of the charming wedding, Jeremy and Emelina texted each other like teenagers passing notes in school. Exchanging phone numbers, they began calling each other. It started out slowly, but before long, it had become a daily event. Because Jeremy worked long hours and changing shifts, Dr. Crawford would text Emelina with the time that he would call her. 

~~~~~

Emmie and Jeremy kept up this routine for the whole two weeks of his self isolation. Sometimes, Emmie would get Jeremy his groceries. He didn’t need much - bread, butter and peanut butter for toast. Wangling a jar of Cook’s blackberry jelly from the Estate kitchen really was a treasure - no pouting needed. Many evenings, Emmie would pick up take out at a Thai restaurant or their favourite fried chicken place, always with all the trimmings. Emmie would set Jeremy’s meal at his door, take hers to the comfortable easy chairs in the alcove 10 feet from his door. She texted him, he opened his door wide and pulled up a chair. The two almost 50 year old teenagers, gave each other an ‘air high five’ and had supper together. Not especially romantic but fun. 

~~~~~

In the two weeks of distancing that Jeremy’s self isolation brought them, they renewed their old acquaintance and deepened their friendship. They talked and talked, laughed and cried. Jeremy talked about his work, patients that had gotten well and some that hadn’t. Emelina listened. Emelina talked about the estate, her employees that had become friends, and the heaviness she felt as she recognized the responsibility of ownership. Jeremy listened. They talked about books, music, the art world, cars and politics. Politics, they tried to avoid but it seemed to weave it’s way through just about everything. One or the other them changed the subject quickly. As the fourteen days passed, their phone calls lasted longer and longer. They made plans for their week together. On their supper evenings, it became more difficult to say goodnight. Jeremy would watch Emelina walk to the elevator. He went to his window, watching her while she went to her car and drive away. Alone, tears dripped down his face. Alone in her car, Emelina wiped tears away, so she could see to drive.

“I exist in two places, here and where you are.”

~ Margaret Atwood

Chapter One, Episode 115 - From Below - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

I've often mentioned the writing exercise nature of these episodes.  Character development is an important part of learning to write story. Writing a vignette, when the character is on her own, gives the writer an opportunity to really listen to and watch that character.

The most important revision was the addition of a sentence in the third paragraph (second sentence). Others were grammatical improvements to two different sentences.

From Below

There was no reason for it. Here she was in the middle of the lake in her kayak, her parents cabin in the distance. Her thoughts drifted just as she was drifting, while her paddle rested, barely dipped in the water. Personal Assistant.    Lady’s Maid. Those two titles, if they could be called titles, seemed barely close in meaning. But she was both of them for the same person. 

29 year old Brigitte Smithson, a young woman who, before working for Miss Em, drifted from job to job, had little interest in what her parents called ‘higher education’. In her circle of friends, the education may be higher, but when it was time to get a job, it didn’t seem to have made much of a difference. Brigitte dipped her paddle in the still water and set her kayak in motion, drifting a little further away from shore. She had just been to a four day orientation for a Lady’s Maid. The last component was introduction to the possibility that the job description may develop into more of a Personal Assistant or Secretary or Companion. Developing the ability to transition would be key to continuing in a preferred employment.  

Brigitte dipped her paddle on the opposite side of the kayak to keep its nose pointed towards deeper water. Her thoughts swirled beneath the placid surface of her visage, so like the waving weeds below her kayak. What have I worked at? Which ones are closest to my work with Miss Em. In the distance, she heard the splash of a fish jumping out of the water. Brigitte swung her gaze toward the sound, watching for any bears. Tree planting? Not really. “Just because the apple orchard is made up of trees doesn’t mean I know anything about them.” Brigitte’s voice echoed across the silent lake. “A nanny…..how many kids? Three? No - well maybe. “Not the kids, but dealing with their parents.” She was suddenly really hungry. Checking her waterproof watch, Brigitte decided to return to the cabin for a late lunch. “Breakfast was a long time ago. I’ve been out here for three hours!” 

Brigitte put up and secured the kayak on the side of the boat house, hung up the paddle inside the boathouse and walked through the sand to the cabin. Tea kettle on to boil water for tea, she poked her head in the refrigerator. “Sandwiches.” She pulled out the loaf of rye bread, the sausage roll of salami, a jar of dill pickles, radishes and mayo. She filled her water bottle from the water pitcher in the refrigerator. Propping open the orientation book against the cookie jar her mother kept full, she set about making her sandwiches. She had opened the text towards the back: Interpersonal Relations with your Boss. The next part was a list of questions that they had gone over in the orientation, but they were to answer them more fully before the online part of the course started. Brigitte pulled a dripping pickle from the jar. With a crunch she read the questions aloud, pickle juice dripping down her arm and from her elbow. “Number One…..Do you like your employer and if so why?” She picked up one of the crisp radishes. Crunch. “Number Two…..How long have you worked with him or her?” Separating two slices of bread, she reached for the butter. “Number Three…..Has  your employer/employee relationship changed recently and if so, how?” Buttering the bread and then smearing both pieces of bread with mayo, Brigitte reached for the cutting board, the salami and a sharp knife. “Number Four…….Do you like the change and if so why? If not why not?”  Slicing a thick piece of salami off, Brigitte took a big satisfying bite. The next slices were thin. She layered them onto one slice of bread. “Number Five…..What do you want from this relationship?” She returned to the fridge and pulled out the lettuce container. “Good thing I washed it all yesterday after I got groceries.” Taking out some of the romaine, she covered the salami with the lettuce and closed up the sandwich. “These questions are tough.” Getting one of the ‘cabin’ plates down - the blue one with the chip on the edge where she had dropped it when she was ten - she set up her lunch. Salami sandwich, two more dills, three more radishes and two of her mom’s snickerdoodle cookies. “I think I’ll take this over by the fireplace and start working on them.” Sinking a tea bag of red rooibos tea into one of the ‘cabin’ mugs - a piece of pottery that her dad picked up at a garage sale - she went to the desk opposite the fireplace for a notebook and pencil. Without spilling a drop of the hot tea, Brigette tucked the notebook under her arm, held the pencil with her free hand, and returned to the fraying overstuffed easy chair. Setting her tea down by her plate, she slid the notebook from under her arm and picked up her sandwich. “Now, where am I going to put my notebook so I can start writing? Or should I just eat?

~~~~~

Two and a half hours later, there were only crumbs left on Brigitte’s plate and the light was fading. Her written answers, which started out very organized and neat, had deteriorated to sideways scribbles and scratched out answers. Crumpled pieces of paper were on the floor.  “I think I have an idea of what I want from this job now. I think.” Brigitte got up and stretched, took a trip down the hall for some relief and then went outside in the cool early evening air.

“I am just a child who has never grown up. I still keep asking these

‘how’ and ‘why’ questions. Occasionally, I find an answer.”

~ Stephen Hawking, A Brief History of Time

Chapter One, Episode 114 - Stumble and Stutter - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
If I were to put one word to this episode it would be humble. There were a few repairs completed for Stumble and Stutter, including some punctuation, barely noticeable, and at least one grammatical improvement. (Samuel and Elizabeth are a precious couple, but don't tell them I said that!)

Stumble and Stutter

The doorbell rang. In most homes that would not be out of the ordinary. Mary Elizabeth Saunders was not sure that it even worked anymore. She hadn’t been concerned because the only person who visited her in the past had been Martha. She always just came in calling out ‘yoo-hoo Elizabeth. It’s just me Martha’. But Martha and James were on their honeymoon. Emmie and Dr. Jeremy had gone off for a week. Brigitte was either at her education thing or at her parent’s cottage. She only saw Samuel when he came up to the Beaufort Estate house for tea. So, Elizabeth was curious, and not a little concerned. She had a side window that looked out on the front step. Cedar trees on either side prevented her from seeing the whole step, but she saw a well dressed man there. He looked a bit familiar but Elizabeth couldn’t place him. She glanced toward the sidewalk. The only cars parked there were neighbour’s cars. No….there was another vehicle farther down the street but she couldn’t make it out clearly. 

“I’ll get my old rolling pin out and set it on the side table by the front door. If he gives me any trouble he'll have a headache from now til next Sunday.” Elizabeth spoke softly to herself, hoping the man hadn't heard her. One hand on the doorknob and the other on the rolling pin, she carefully opened the door. The man had turned away from the door and was about to leave. He stopped and turned back when he heard the door open.

“Samuel? Is that you?” Elizabeth recognized the clothes before she recognized the man. “It’s either you in those wedding clothes or someone’s stolen them from you.” Holding up her wooden rolling pin by one of the red handles she said “You’re just lucky I didn’t smack you on the head with this old thing. What on earth are you doing here and in that getup? The wedding was over two days ago.” By this time, Elizabeth could hardly stop laughing.

Samuel did something he seldom did……..he turned red as a beet. “Well, if you’re goin' to laugh at me, then I’ll just go home. Thought I’d wear these fancy duds one more time while everyone’s gone.” He started to leave. 

Elizabeth did feel badly. Samuel looked quite handsome, all shaved with a proper haircut, smelling good and in his ‘fancy duds’. His wedding clothes, chosen by Elizabeth, were slate grey slacks, a short sleeved white shirt and a summer weight navy blazer. “I’m sorry, Samuel. You took me by surprise! I know you don’t like me to say it, but you sure look handsome all dressed up. You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

Samuel took a deep breath and thought a moment. “I’d like to take you out for supper, Elizabeth. Nuthin’ fancy. Just one o’them food trucks down in the park. It’s a nice evenin’. It’d just be a hamburger, mind you. Thought it would be nice.”

Elizabeth felt a little flutter in her stomach. “Are you asking me for a date, Samuel?”

“Nope, just want some company for supper………….and I like your company. But if you’re busy, I’ll be on my way.” Samuel just wanted to get out of there. He hadn’t asked anyone for a date since he'd been a teenager….maybe once since then. He didn’t like it then and he sure didn’t like it now. 

“Samuel Forrester, don’t you go anywhere.” Elizabeth tended to get a little bossy when she was flustered. And she was flustered and not a little bit excited. “I’ll just change my dress and be right out.”

~~~~~

Teenagers holding hands and joggers with masks in the park may have seen a handsome couple in their early sixties get their hamburgers from Franks Burger Truck. They may not have noticed them. The couple, the woman in a deep mauve sensible shirt waist dress and the man in grey slacks and summer blazer, sat at a picnic table away from the rest of them. The burgers gone, they talked until the sun had set. Getting up to go, they cleaned up their take out containers. Holding hands they strolled towards the parking lot.

“You come to love not by finding the perfect person, 

but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.”

~ Sam Keen