Driftless By Design

April 3, 2011 Leave a comment

When John gave her the ring he hoped that marriage would follow soon after. It did. Mary said yes. His unspoken question was answered with her unspoken assent on the same day. She simply nestled her head against his neck in silent agreement. They were married in June of that year, 1957.

The couple spent much of their time together in nature. There were yearly camping trips to lakes, mountains and forests. Twilight and sunrise often shared the light of their campfires. By way of nature’s vast expanse, the couple became closer. For them, there was never a thought of sitting in front of the television set night after night, pining for something more. They chose what they wanted: the panoply of the natural world; the broad-shouldered earth.

Wisconsin’s Governor Dodge State Park became the site of an annual destination for the couple. The state park, located only three and a half hours from their home, is demarcated in southwestern Wisconsin. It lies within driftless area of the Upper Mississippi River Basin. The Mississippi, Chippewa, Kickapoo and Black rivers flow through this area, dissecting the uneven landscape and forcing the weaving of man-made roads.

The park offers two lakes: Cox Hollow and Twin Valley Lakes. The couple’s favorite campsite, near Cox Hollow Lake, is nestled among oaks, white pines and hickory trees. Through a clearing at the edge of their campsite the couple viewed a gently sloping field blanketed with goldenrod and sunflowers. At one time Mary told John that the Monarch butterflies that silently fluttered among this dappled setting were faeries. John told Mary that the Hummingbirds that hovered in their camp sought only the sweetest of nectars – his Mary.

The road trip to Governor Dodge was easy. The ride became a time to talk about nothing and about everything, a means to embrace the other. As was their way, they would pack on Thursday evening. Then, On Friday morning they would drive up in hopes of getting their favored spot before the weekend campers arrived.

When they arrived at Governor Dodge they paid their campsite fee, found their site and unpacked the car. Everything would be in its place within an hour. They prepared well.

Their first afternoon was usually spent sitting on the grassy hillside looking down on the sandy beach of Cox Hollow Lake. The scattered oak trees blocked the high afternoon sun, while a cool lake breeze ascended up the hill. These surroundings made it easy for John and Mary to nap, even though children whooped and wailed when splashed with lake water. Later in the afternoon the air would become filled with the cacophony of weekend visitors greeting each other.

When dinner time came around John and Mary had cooking down pat: Coleman stove, cast iron skillet, freshly caught walleye fried in butter with tear-prompting onions and brought-from-home herbs sizzling alongside. Dessert was an ice cream bar bought at the camp store just up the hill from the lake. And, a cup of Thermos coffee.

The undiluted sprawling sky above Governor Dodge State Park provided the couple with an open air observatory. At night they would drive out to an isolated ridge road that passed through an open field. They would park in the grass, get out and sit on the hood of their car. It seemed to them that the darkened heavens published dot-to-dot pictures: Ursa Major with its asterism The Big Dipper affixing north.

John and Mary would trace the points of light with their fingers. Occasionally, the celestial array of distant lights became cloaked by screeching bat swarms flying in high speed pursuit of blood thirsty mosquitoes. Mary liked the bats, but only for this reason.

After midnight, the couple would return to their campsite. They would make one final inspection of their food storage. They knew that robbing raccoons were on the prowl. When they were both ready, they quickly entered their tent hoping to keep the uneaten mosquitoes on the outside with the bats. Once inside, they replayed their favorite memory.

© Sally Paradise, 2011, All Rights Reserved

Filed under marriage, Short Story, sketch Tagged with , , , ,

The List (The Legacy of Denny)

March 24, 2011 Leave a comment

What he asked her for, what he wanted more than anything was to have a cup of coffee in the morning with his wife before the day’s work. There was nothing more.

She: wanted things handled, intangible things, things of the heart. She said, my needs are not met and these are things you should have thought of and you’re a man you should know these things and I don’t feel loved. For the record, there was more: “You didn’t feed the dog.”; “Your son needs changing.”; “The dishes need washing.”; “When are you going to cut the grass?”; “Did you leave the toilet seat down?”; “Did you put seed in the bird feeder?”; “Your son needs a bath.”; “Get your daughter ready for church, I am leaving soon.”; “Take me away for the weekend, I need to relax.”

What he asked for
And nothing more
Mattered little
Because he snored.

© Sally Paradise, 2011, All Rights Reserved

Filed under © Sally Paradise, biographical, family, Non-fiction, Short Piece, sketch Tagged with , ,

Marriage

March 19, 2011 Leave a comment

Marriage is disarming.  The every day volatility is alarming and yet reassuring. The refuge and prestige are comforting. We are one and two together. And, that seems to be enough.

 Let’s examine.  I am woman.  He, a man.   We submit to each other for the purpose of refuge and prestige, under vow of love. Therein, embrace and endurance, capital “T” “tedium” and lower case “me“.

“We” – pronoun of the first person plural (compare I, our, ours, us).

 “We” falters.  “We” begins again.  “We” starts.  “We” stops. “We” meanders. “We” relishes and defines and redefines.  “We” supposes and deposes. “We” questions and answers. “We” finalizes and leaves open-ended. 

‘We” is progenitor, a community of life and the recipient of sacramental blessing.

 “We”, together, each and the other.  Forever.

********

Here’s a look at one marriage from a passage of Samuel Beckett’s novel Malone Dies:

The man’s name is Saposcat. Like his father’s. Christian name? I don’t know. He will not need one. His friends call him Sapo. What friends? I don’t know. A few words about the boy.
This cannot be avoided. …

…He was the eldest child of poor and sickly parents. He often heard them talk of what they ought to do in order to have better health and more money. He was struck each time by the vague-ness of these palavers and not surprised that they never led to anything. His father was a salesman, in a shop. He used to say to his wife, I really must find work for the evenings and the Saturday afternoon. He added, faintly, And the Sunday. His wife would answer, But if you do any more work you’ll fall ill. And Mr. Saposcat had to allow that he would indeed be ill- advised to forego his Sunday rest. These people at least are grown up. But his health was not so poor that he could not work in the evenings of the week and on the Saturday afternoon. At what, said his wife, work at what? Perhaps secretarial work of some kind, he said. And who will look after the garden? said his wife. The life of the Saposcats was full of axioms, of which one at least established the criminal absurdity of a garden without roses and with its paths and lawns uncared for. I might perhaps grow vegetables, he said. They cost less to buy, said his wife. Sapo marvelled at these conversations. Think of the price of manure, said his mother. And in the silence which followed Mr. Saposcat applied his mind, with the earnestness he brought to everything he did, to the high price of manure which prevented him from supporting his family in greater comfort, while his wife made ready to accuse herself, in her turn, of not doing all she might. But she was easily persuaded that she could not do more without exposing herself to the risk of dying before her time. Think of the doctor’s fees we save, said Mr. Saposcat. And the chemist’s bills, said his wife. Nothing remained but to envisage a smaller house. But we are cramped as it is, said Mrs. Saposcat. And it was an understood thing that they would be more and more so with every passing year until the
day came when, the departure of the first-born compensating the arrival of the new-born, a kind of equilibrium would be attained. Then little by little the house would empty. And at
last they would be all alone, with their memories. It would be time enough then to move.

He would be pensioned off, she at her last gasp. They would take a cottage in the country where, having no further need of manure, they could afford to buy it in cartloads. And their children, grateful for the sacrifices made on their behalf, would come to their assistance. It was in this atmosphere of unbridled dream that these conferences usually ended. It was as though the Saposcats drew the strength to live from the prospect of their impotence. But sometimes, before reaching that stage, they paused to consider the case of their first-born. What age is he now? asked Mr. Saposcat. His wife provided the information, it being understood that this was of her province. She was always wrong. Mr. Saposcat took over
the erroneous figure, murmuring it over and over to himself as though it were a question of the rise in price of some indispensable commodity, such as butcher’s meat. And at the same time he sought in the appearance of his son some alleviation of what he had just heard. Was it at least a nice sirloin? Sapo looked at his father’s face, sad, astonished, loving, disappointed, confident in spite of all. Was it on the cruel flight of the years he brooded, or on the time it was taking his son to command a salary? Sometimes he stated wearily his regret that his son should not be more eager to make himself useful about the place. It is better for him to prepare his examinations, said his wife. Starting from a given theme their minds laboured in unison. They had no conversation properly speaking. They made use of the spoken word in much the same way as the guard of a train makes use of his flags, or of his lantern. Or else they said, This is where we get down. And their son once signalled, they wondered sadly if it was not the mark of superior minds to fail miserably at the written paper and cover themselves with ridicule at the viva voce. They were not always content to gape in silence at the same landcape. At least his health is good, said Mr. Saposcat. Not all that, said his wife. But no definite disease, said Mr. Saposcat. A nice thing that would be, at his age, said his wife. They did not know why he was committed to a liberal profession. That was yet another thing that went without saying. It was therefore impossible he should be unfitted for it. They thought of him as a doctor for preference. He will look after us when we are old, said Mrs. Saposcat. And her husband replied, I see him rather as a surgeon, as though after a certain age people were inoperable.

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Perspective

July 27, 2010 Leave a comment

Watch this video if you need some perspective.

Filed under Christian, Christianity Tagged with , , ,

Over Easy, Please

September 7, 2009 Leave a comment

eggs over easy

Father Henry and his wife Margaret were already seated in the restaurant when Daniel arrived. Daniel had been futzing about at home looking for his reading glasses. He had wanted to read a newspaper article about claustrophobia when he realized that he was late for his weekly lunch with the rector and his wife.

As Daniel came in the restaurant door, Father Henry looked up at him from the table and caught Daniel glancing at the newspaper. Father Henry was reading the same article that he was trying to read at home: Claustrophobia, Uncovering Your Fears. The title of the article had caught Daniel’s eye and apparently Father Henry’s. Margaret moved across the table to sit with her husband and Daniel sat across facing them both.

“Hi, how are you Father Henry and Margaret?”

“We’re fine Daniel. How are things?” Father Henry spoke, looking at his wife Margaret.

“Except for some claustrophobia, I guess I am doing alright.” Daniel smiled with a nod to the newspaper lying open on the table.

“Hah, I see. Well, good. How about some coffee? Here comes the waitress.”

Daniel ordered some eggs over easy and some coffee. Father Henry ordered some French toast, two plates and two orange juices.

“The last time we had gotten together, Daniel, you had mentioned that you had a close friend at your previous church.” Father Henry spoke from behind a raised coffee cup.

“Yeah, Allan and I were close friends. I spent time with him and two other guys in a prayer cell group. This was before the divorce. We met at least once a month to talk and pray. Later, after the divorce, I would also bring my two kids over to his house and spend time with him and his wife. I often ate dinner with them. We both had kids the same age. The kids got along really well.”

“What was the prayer cell group like? Did you enjoy that?”

“It was alright, I guess. The prayer cells groups were started in order to bring together the people who ministered in the church. The cell group was to be a place of accountability and fellowship. Before that group ever met, I often met with Allan for breakfast to talk about work and to pray before going to work.

“Were you ministering in that church then?”

“Yes, I was a Sunday School teacher for grade school kids and I played in the worship band. I play the trumpet.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Music and my trumpet have been in life since I was a kid. Music has often helped me cope with a lot of life’s madness. I enjoy playing the horn in the worship service. It’s very Biblical you know?” Daniel smiled.

“Were the other guys in the ministry at that church?”

“Ah, yeah, two of them were in the music ministry, as well. My close friend, Allan, was a working priest. He wasn’t a full time priest at the church. He had a full time job.

“How did it go with those guys?”

“I met with them as often as I could for the prayer cell meetings. I had a full time job. I was a partner in a company which I helped to start. I was the VP of Engineering. This meant that any equipment issues – we were a manufacturing company – this meant that if a customer called up with a problem the call was always forwarded to me. I worked a ton of hours and was out of town a lot. When I was at home I wanted to stay at home. The job took a lot out of me.”

“Yeah, something like that would. I am called on at all hours of the night in my position.” Father Henry looked at Margaret.

“I would go to church on Sunday and then I would want to come home and stay at home for the balance of the day. My ex, who was at home all week, wanted to go out and be with our church friends all day Sunday. I would tell her that I was exhausted and that I just needed some rest. I often worked 60-70 hours a week besides taking care of the house, the kids and the rest. When she heard me say that I wanted to be at home on Sunday afternoon she would tell our friends that I wasn’t coming. She told our children, I later found out, that I was being unsociable. My own kids would later say this back to me. I was upset by such a characterization by my wife.”

Did the guys in your cell group talk about their jobs and their marriages?”

“Yeah, my friend Allan and I usually talked the most intimately about our lives and marriages. The other two guys would talk about somebody being sick at their office. That’s what they would pray about, too.”

The waitress brought the meals and poured some coffee in Daniel’s cup. Father Henry gave thanks for the meal.

“So you shared your life with these guys?” Margaret asked.

“I shared with them about my job and about my two business partners. I talked about the work I did and the frustrations of my job. I also talked about my marriage and about how my wife always wanted me to go to counseling. She constantly pushed for a separation. She would say that I was the cause of our marriage’s problems.  She, in turn, wouldn’t accept responsibility for her part in the marriage’s problems. I would go to counseling by myself and nothing would change because the issues she had with me were inside of her and she wasn’t willing to go there. Her past was present in our marriage but she couldn’t see it. My issues were being talked about constantly. I talked about my own unresolved anger and my projection onto her. I learned to stop doing this and to look at the source of my own anger, which usually came from out of my past. I learned that I must face my own anger and my past and to speak out about my real needs. I felt that I couldn’t share with her my needs or who I was and this made me angry. I often felt alone in the marriage, too. I did learn that I should know who I am, that I should know why I am angry, that I should speak about my needs to my spouse and then don’t expect her to meet those needs. If my needs were met by her then, of course, that would be great but I couldn’t demand such a thing from her. I learned to live in the tension of not having my needs met and of not becoming angry and not being escapist with pornography. I put that out of my life. I wanted to be real and be in a real relationship with someone for the first time in my life. But, it was actually at this point when I started to become ‘real’ and honest within that I started to say “No, its not true.” to her angry projections put onto me.  It was then that she became more determined to divorce. We were in two different places and she wouldn’t let me get near her, even though I had tried many times. I understood it later that her perfectionism, born out of her troubled past, kept her from responding to me. She wanted things to be perfect, for our marriage to lived out perfectly with no remembrance of her past troubles.  She denied having any issues at all.  And,  she wanted something that even she could not put her finger on and of course I couldn’t meet that undetermined need.  This was an impossible situation, so things remained unresolved.”

“That must have been frustrating.” Father Henry spoke looking into his coffee.

“It was extremely frustrating. And, I found out via the guys in the prayer group that my wife was saying negative things to their wives about me. They wanted me to share my “stuff” with them in our get-togethers. I felt betrayed by everyone involved. I later decided to stop going to the prayer cell group. I wasn’t going to become the focus of the prayer cell because of my wife’s projection onto me and because two of the guys in the group didn’t share anything of substance at all. I was also working so much that I needed as many breaks as I could get.”

“What happened then, with your wife?” Margaret asked.

“We separated and eventually divorced. We had gone to marriage counseling for a while but never once were her “issues” with me ever discussed, examined or understood. Never. The counselor and I, neither of us, knew what issue she had with me other than her saying, “I don’t think he loves me.” We did know that she wanted to end the marriage and it appeared that I was going to be the scapegoat for her decision. Again, as I found out later, she had talked to our close friends at the church, the rector and her family and she had made me look bad before them. I was being set up for the divorce.”

“What about your close friend, Allan? Did he see what was going on?” Father Henry queried.

“Yeah, I think so. He said he wouldn’t take sides. I was the one in the group who talked openly about things in my marriage so it would seem to the guys in the group, I think, that I was the one who was the problem in the marriage. I did not want the marriage to end and I had made that clear. I wanted to reconcile with her and she couldn’t bring herself to that place. Her own troubled past was too much in the present and I became the object of her unresolved anger. She couldn’t see that this was happening.”

“Did you and Allan get together after you and your wife were separated?”

“Yeah, we still hung out but it was more awkward because I was now single. I brought my kids over to his house, as I mentioned earlier. He and his wife, Joan, had seven kids. Two of their kids were my kid’s age, so they got along great. I enjoyed that friendship but I was hurting a lot from the destruction of our marriage. I didn’t know how I could even share it with anyone. Allan would talk even handedly like all the other counselors and say both people are to responsible in a marriage breakup and I knew this not to be true. I knew these words were just a gobbledygook response of impartiality on the part of the people saying this. If one person in a marriage wants a divorce than what can you do? Vows no longer matter to people like that. They are going to divorce and then relive their unresolved anger out with someone new.”

“I would agree with you, on this.” Father Henry again looked at Margaret.

Margaret asked, “Did Allan’s wife say anything to you about your marriage situation?”

“I felt a cold shoulder from her, like I was the problem in the marriage, like I was too stupid to know better or to change. This may not be true and it may only be my projection onto her but that is how I felt around her.”

Margaret spoke, “Maybe she felt in an odd place and she wasn’t sure of the whole truth.”

“I think you are right.” Daniel responded. “I was very sensitive at this time to any criticism. I knew that I was talking honestly to several people about myself and about my marriage during this time and I felt very vulnerable in doing so. I felt completely alone and isolated. My ex was making me out to be a pariah to my kids and to my friends at church and everyone, it seemed, was going along for the ride. Elise seemed so honest and sincere – this sweet girl from Iowa. I knew her differently, though, but I didn’t talk about her to my friends or to my kids. I just said that we were having problems at home and we were trying to find answers.”

“What happened with the kids? Who got custody?” Margaret asked.

“My ex finally got custody of our two children. I, of course, had to hire an attorney for the divorce and pay thousands of dollars defending myself. Elise knew that I had paid 28% of my income to a previous wife for my two older children for sixteen years. Elise hated the fact that I gave money to another woman for my two older sons. She wanted the money for her own purposes. She gave me grief over it every day. In fact, it became her new battle cry during the last two years of our marriage: “I can take your kids, I can take 28% of your income and I can make you pay!” “I wasn’t sure what I was going to pay for but she made it clear with her threats that I should toe her line. This situation was untenable for any marriage.”

“Wow, that became an impossible situation for you.”

“Imagine trying to run a business as a VP of Engineering and having to go out of town to represent your company. Imagine the weight placed on me trying to hold everything to together at work and at home and then being blamed for not doing enough by my wife to make her happy. Imagine.” Daniel looked down. “The real hard thing is that now I only see my own kids every other weekend. They are no longer the same happy kids. They are decidedly different. They are easily angered. They are no longer respectful to me or to each other or of anyone, for that matter. They have learned from their mother that they can choose who they want to obey. They no longer follow the Lord because Elise no longer follows the Lord. She abandoned her church and her church friends and they abandoned her. Elise tells the kids what to think about me. I get their attitude all the time when I see them. This is sad for me. Elise now lives with some guy she met at a bar. I love my kids and they have been hurt tremendously by Elise and the divorce industry. I have been almost destroyed by all of this, as well. My parents tell me that some day my kids will know better about all of this. I don’t know. I think they will be forever scarred. God help them.”

“Daniel, we will keep you in our prayers. The Lord knows your heart for your kids and towards Elise. He will make all things right for them and for you.” Father Henry ended our meal with a prayer:

“Father, let Your love surround these children, Elise and Daniel. Restore to them the joy of their salvation. Protect these children from the Evil One who desires to use this situation for His own purposes. Keep them in Your love. Give Daniel what he needs right now. We thank you for the courage he has shown in facing these issues. Grant him Your peace. I ask these things in the name of Jesus, Amen.”

© Sally Paradise, 2010, All Rights Reserved

Filed under Christian, Human Interest, marriage, Short Story Tagged with , , ,

Timing is Everything

June 25, 2009 Leave a comment

Timing is Everythingwedding-flowers

I

Monday morning Tom and Linda left the train station and walked to work in a constant sprinkle of rain. Walking together, Tom juggled an umbrella and their usual conversation.

“I’m not joking.” Tom was holding Linda’s hand when he snapped at her.

“I don’t think you are. I just think that we should wait, that’s all.” Linda countered.

“We are going to get married next July. Why don’t we just move in together? We can save some money for the wedding.”

“I want to be with you, Tom, but I think we should wait.”

“I love you Linda, don’t you know that?”

“Sure, I do.”

“Then, what’s the problem? Why are we waiting?”

“I want to make sure it’s real, that’s all,” Linda said.

“Huh? This is the real thing, isn’t it?” Tom asked.

“It’s becoming more real as we go on, Tom,” Linda explained, “but something tells me to wait till our wedding day.”

“You love me, don’t you?” Tom queried.

“Of course I do.” Linda replied, “My heart and my mind are telling me to wait and my . . . my…,” Linda leaned into Tom and whispered, “my body wants to go ahead.” Then with a smile she said, “It’s a two to one decision. Anyway, I want to be secure in our love and not just in the thought that we are living together. This engagement time will help us get to know each other better. It’s a good thing.”

Tom and Linda came up to the Dunkin Donuts and went in. They ordered two coffees: a small for Linda and a large for Tom. Linda added a small drop of cream to her cup, put a lid snuggly on top and then sat down and waited for Tom to finish fixing his coffee. Tom poured a large dose of cream into his coffee and then he grabbed five packets of sugar from the holder. He took one packet by the edge and started to shake it and then smack it against his left hand. After half a minute of settling the sugar he tore open the packet and poured the sugar into the coffee. He did the same with the other four packets. Linda waited. When the sugar packets had been poured into his coffee, Tom grabbed a stir stick and began stirring his coffee while staring at the floor. He wasn’t aware that three people were waiting behind him, waiting for the cream and sugar.

“Tom, hurry up. People are waiting.” Linda prodded from her chair.

Tom looked up to see the line of people, he said, “Sorry”, and hurriedly put a lid on his cup. He gathered up his backpack and walked over to the table where Linda was sitting, looked at his watch and said, “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Linda smiled in response and then gathered up her bag and her coffee. They headed out the door and down the street to work. Tom, a business consultant and an investment counselor for real estate investment trusts, worked with several clients creating the investment trust contracts. Linda was an information technology support person in an engineering firm. They both worked in the same building in downtown Chicago. Tom had a small office on the 16th floor and Linda’s cube was on the 23rd floor. They rode the elevator together each morning.

Heading into the elevator that morning Linda moved to fill a space made by two others on the elevator. Tom came in as the door was closing and turned to face the front of the car. As he did this his backpack hit the coffee cup in the hand of a short woman standing behind Tom. Tom didn’t notice but Linda couldn’t help notice. She received some of the hot coffee on her new linen skirt.

“Tom, be careful. Look what happened.”

Again, Tom swirled around in the elevator and nearly hit another cup off coffee out of someone’s hand.

“Tom, that backpack is a nuisance in this elevator. Please be careful.”

“Sorry.” With those words, Tom left the elevator on the 16th floor and said again, “Sorry I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Bye Tom, call me.”

Tom reached his office, unlocked the door and turned on the overhead light. He noticed his wall plaque; the mounted gold crow bar glinting yellow under the fluorescent light. Inscribed beneath the crowbar in the plaque’s mahogany wood were the words, “Leverage Everything”. He set his umbrella down and took off his wet top coat and laid it on the credenza. He could see his phone blinking a red eye at him. He sat down behind his oak desk and took his phone messages.

His office space, an eight by twelve foot room, was cozy with one window. The view was of the elevated train and a partially hidden neon sign which offered “Cheap Eats at Murphy’s Bar and Grill” in emerald green light. His client’s waiting chairs were in the main hallway with a small end table holding a dog-eared copy of Fisherman’s World magazine. Painted on the sand blown glass pane door was “TOM LANDSURE, REAL ESTATE INVESTMENT TRUSTS, A name you can trust in real estate.” Through the glass Tom could see the form of a waiting client. Tom put the phone back on the receiver and went to the door and let him in.

“Hi, Mike.” Tom welcomed him.

“Hi, Tom, Did you get my e-mail?”

“Yeah, sure did.”

“Well what do you think?”

“I think you should act on that property immediately, get the most you can out of it. You can always walk away if it doesn’t pan out – sell your share of it. The downside is losing a little time and a little money. You can always flip it for another property. If you can handle that you’ll be fine. Do you have the people lined up? You need at least one hundred investors to make a go of it.”

“Yeah, I do and you’re right. Down the road I could have great returns on this investment. If it goes south, I’ll just ditch it. No harm, no foul.”

“Sure, I’ve seen this kind of thing a dozen times before. You will do fine either way.”

“I think so. I just wanted to talk to you face to face before I made the decision to act on the property. I’m gonna go ahead and make some calls right now, get my foot in the door. Can I use your phone?

“Sure, I’m going to visit the rest room. I’ll be right back.”

One of the phone messages waiting for him when he came back to the office was from Linda. She wanted to know where they were going to eat for lunch. Before returning her call Tom talked with Mike about his new real estate investment, again encouraging him to buy while it was cheap. The deal sounded too good to pass up. They shook hands and agreed to meet again in a week to review the investment contract. Mike left and Tom reached for the phone to return Linda’s call.

“Hi, Lin, how about the usual for lunch?”

“Murphey’s? Again?”

“How about Sam’s Deli, then?

“That sounds better, let’s go there. See ya downstairs. Bye.” Linda hung up and Mike returned to his pile of contracts waiting for his review. At 11:30 am he left his office, locked the door behind him and took the elevator to the ground floor. He waited for Linda near the building reception desk. A moment later, Linda appeared.

“Tom, I’ve got a half hour today for lunch. We have to hurry.”

They half ran to Sam’s Deli a couple of blocks away. In line were a dozen or so people with numbers. Standing in line Tom happened to notice a young woman sitting alone eating her sandwich. He stared at her while standing behind Linda. After a few moments, the young woman looked up and noticed his stare. She looked over at Linda and then scrunched her face, looking back at Tom. Tom, now flush with embarrassment, tried to start a conversation with Linda in order to pretend that he wasn’t looking at the young woman.

“You know, I like the corned beef sandwich here. It is real kosher corned beef.”

“Tom, I saw you. Keep your eyes on the lunch menu up there. Linda grabbed Tom’s arm, pulled him next to her and then pointed to the menu sign hung above the grill.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Tom whispered.

With their sandwiches they headed over to a quiet tree-lined garden outside of the art institute. They ate lunch silently looking at each other, letting the city and their thoughts do the talking.

II

Linda’s mother called Linda on Tuesday afternoon.

“Hi mom.”

“Linda, how’s work going?”

“Good mom. I received a good review this year so I’ll be getting a raise soon and I have already told my boss about next July. I will get two weeks off for the wedding and the honeymoon.”

“That sounds great. Things are coming together it looks like. How’s Tom holding out? Anything new with him?”

“He’s doing okay. He’s written more contracts so far this year than last year at this time so he’s at a good pace. His business looks promising.”

“I mean about not moving in together before the wedding?”

“Oh! Ah, he talks about it almost daily. He is pushing hard for it but I am telling him I want to wait till we are married.”

“That conversation must be hard for you.”

“It is. I want things to move forward and yet I feel like I need to stand back and get my bearings. Things are moving too fast right now.”

“I think you are dong the best thing, Linda, though it isn’t easy. Hah, I just remembered reading something out Jane Austin’s Mansfield Park last night. I’ll go get the book. Hold on for a second, Linda.”

Linda could hear her mother set the phone down on the counter, leave the kitchen and then walk down the hall. She heard her return and pick up the phone.”

“Are you there?”

“Yeah, go ahead, mom.”

“Here’s Jane: “Oh, Do not attack me with your watch. A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch.” ”

III

“What do you want, Tom?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“What is it that can’t wait until our wedding day?”

“Ummm. . . I guess I’m just anxious to be with you, you know.”

“Good things come to those who wait, Tom. Isn’t that what they say?”

“Yeah, I guess so, but I’ve been waiting all my life for someone like you. Isn’t that long enough?”

“Then, time is on your side, Tom.”

‘You are full of quaint sayings today, aren’t you?” Tom answered.

“Well, I want our lives together to be special, that’s all. All of this is special to me. Your mother told that when you were a kid you wanted Christmas to happen right away, as soon as you saw the presents – you wanted to open the presents days or weeks before the actual day. “

“I was so excited and I wasn’t sure what I was getting. I couldn’t stand to wait and find out.” Tom responded.

“Well, you seemed to have survived that ordeal.” Linda quipped.

“Just barely, but it was cruel and unusual punishment.” With these words, Tom evoked a smile on Linda’s face.

“You’re a good guy Tom. You can still wait for your presents. And, we’ll have many Christmases together unwrapping gifts.” Linda winked at Tom.

“Yeah, just as long as they are not wrapped in flannel.” Tom winked back with a Cheshire cat smile.”

“You can be sure of that, my Tom cat,” Linda assured Tom.

“Scratch you later.” Tom kissed Linda with a smile and headed back to his office.

IV

The week of the wedding finally came. On Friday night, Tom and Linda met at the church for their wedding rehearsal. Linda’s father walked Linda down the church aisle on their musical cue. Linda was wearing the heels she would wear in the wedding. Her father kept Linda stable as she walked slowly forward. All eyes followed Linda to her place next to Tom. She hugged her father and then she took Tom’s hand in hers. The rehearsal passed like a dream sequence. Linda was only aware of the red flush of her cheeks and how hot she felt that July evening.

Afterward, Linda packed her car with some early wedding gifts and the left-over food. Tom helped her carry the trays out to the car. Linda turned to say goodnight to Tom. She cuddled up to him and looked him in the eyes. “Tomorrow I become Mrs. Linda Landsure. Now that’s an investment!”

“I have already received a great return on this investment and we haven’t even signed the contract yet.” Tom laughed.

They hugged and kissed each other. “I’m so glad that we waited,” Tom whispered in Linda’s ear, “Wow, I thought tomorrow would never come.”

“Well its midnight and its tomorrow. We’re both tired.” Linda said, “We better get home and get our beauty sleep. I don’t want bags under our eyes for the wedding pictures.”

Tom smiled in agreement. He helped Linda get into the car and he closed the door. He gave her one last kiss through the open window and then Linda drove off saying, “Don’t forget your tux shoes tomorrow.”

Tom got in his car and drove towards home, an hour away. It was midnight and he was exhausted. He found the expressway and headed west. He thought about the Linda walking down the aisle in her blue jeans and heels, her dad gently holding Linda’s hand, her nervous smile and her watery eyes. He thought about waiting for this day and how hard he had pushed her to move in with her. He was glad that she made them wait. He wanted her more and more each day. He imagined her tomorrow night in his arms, the day’s events behind them and they would finally be alone. He imagined falling asleep next to her…

At 2:30 am Linda was awakened by a phone call. The state police were on the phone. They said that a car had careened into an overpass and the driver had been killed. Every word now began pulling her heart down. They had found a wedding invitation in the car and Linda’s phone number was listed in Tom’s cell phone. They said that Tom appeared to have fallen asleep and had driven into the cement wall of the overpass at 55 mph: “I am sorry. He died instantly from a broken neck. There was a necklace in a box on the floor of the car.” Linda did not answer. “The necklace has two hearts hanging from the chain, one gold heart and one silver heart. It looks very expensive. I will bring it to you, tomorrow.”

Linda hung up the phone and stepped backward. Overcome with grief, she cried out into the morning darkness, “Tom…Tom…Tom…” She sank down to her knees and wept. When daylight came the sun’s rays began to wash her swollen red face with amber light. Linda raised her head and stood up.  She turned to leave the room. In a whisper she heard the voice of Tom:

“I have prepared a place for you.”

Sally Paradise ã 2009

Filed under Romance, Short Story Tagged with , ,

I Suppose…

June 24, 2009 Leave a comment

I suppose you believed the words you said

At the front of the church: “I do.”

Those words were waiting for you.

They stood waiting with me.

Did you know that you would shred them?

***

I suppose that if you had kept your vows

We would be forever united in words:

Words that wrap lives with ribbons of care;

Words that tie down lives with stakes in the ground;

Words that follow balloons as they become pixels of the sky

***

I suppose, had you said,

“Let’s make this work.”,

I would be walking down the aisle with you everyday.

Un-tethering balloons, staking our lives

And letting rice fleck my hair.

*****

© Sally Paradise, 2010, All Rights Reserved

Filed under marriage, Poems, Romance Tagged with , , ,

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