Waterfalls (10 page)

“What’s with you? You sure are snippy today,” Shelly stated.

“Sorry. It’s just that I’m not used to taking direction from you, of all people, on my love life. I thought you weren’t going to do this.”

“I changed my mind. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to help Cupid fling a few arrows in your direction?” Shelly asked. “You sure went all out when it came to Jonathan and me getting back together. Can I help it if I think you and Jake would be good for each other?”

“No, you can’t help it. That’s your sisterly opinion, and I’ll take it graciously. Thank you. Now let it go. It’s not enough for you to think we’re good for each other. Jake has to think that, too. If he didn’t feel compelled to contact me within a week of our first meeting, then there’s no interest on his part. That’s the law of relationship development.”

“Oh, really?” Shelly said. “You have this law written down somewhere?”

“Not yet,” Meredith said, lightening up. “I’m thinking of writing a book on the subject, and then it will be written down.”

Shelly laughed. “I want a copy when that book comes out because I’d love to be able to quote back to you all the sage advice you poured out to me not so long ago.”

“I have another call,” Meredith said when the call-waiting tone sounded in her ear. “I do love you; you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know that. And I love you, too. Talk to you later.”

Meredith pushed the button on the phone and took the next call. “Hello, this is Meredith.” One of the art designers from her publishing house needed to discuss the layout for a picture book they had been working on.

Fifteen minutes later, Meredith hung up and checked the clock. 3:27. Time for a break. She hadn’t had any lunch yet and was hungry, but she didn’t know what she was hungry for. Trekking downstairs to the kitchen in her quiet cottage, Meredith rummaged through the refrigerator looking for something interesting. She settled on a carton of boysenberry yogurt and went out onto the front porch to eat it.

The spring afternoon was alive with the colors, scents, and sounds of the living forest where the Tulip Cottage sat near a small lake. Drawing in a deep breath of the fresh air, Meredith perched on the porch’s railing and looked out on her small garden. She had fenced it off, but somehow the wild rabbits were still nibbling off the carrot tops and the lettuce. Everything was in the budding stage, and she was afraid it would all be eaten by the forest wildlife before her garden had even begun to show what it could do.

An itchy-nose pollen smell in the air prompted Meredith to start sneezing. So much for fresh air and organic gardening.
Everything in life has a flip side, doesn’t it? I guess my life has a flip side, too. I love working at home, but here I am, isolated from the rest of the world
.

Meredith wasn’t used to feeling sorry for herself. She usually had so much going on that time to reflect on what was happening inside her heart was severely limited.
The truth is, I’m crushed. I thought he would call. I can understand why he didn’t, but I had hoped. And hope deferred makes the heart sick. Where does the Bible say that?

Curiosity compelled her to pick up her Bible from the
kitchen table. Flipping to the concordance in the back, she scanned the verses with the word
hope
in them until she found the one she had spontaneously quoted.

She found it in Proverbs 13:12, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” She underlined the verse and leaned against the side of the counter.

“So, what’s my longing that’s not being fulfilled? Is it that I want to get married because all my friends are? Or is it because two are better than one since they have a good return for their labor?”

Meredith realized that was another verse. Being the daughter of a minister had filled her mind with random verses over the years, much the same way being an acquisitions editor had filled her mind with a colorful variety of stories. Back to the concordance she went and found the “two are better than one” verse in Ecclesiastes 4:9. She read the verse before it. “There was a man all alone; he had neither son nor brother. There was no end to his toil, yet his eyes were not content with his wealth. ‘For whom am I toiling,’ he asked, ‘and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?’ This too is meaningless—a miserable business!”

Meredith went to the refrigerator for something else to eat. She wondered about Jake. Brad had said he was raised by an elderly couple who were now gone. Did Jacob feel like a man all alone who was working hard in the entertainment industry yet feeling discontented with his wealth? Did he ever wonder why he was depriving himself of enjoyment?

A smile played across Meredith’s lips as she remembered the way Jacob had relaxed with her at the waterfall, how he had tossed the grapes and laughed deeply when she smashed the muffin in his face. Moving the mayonnaise jar aside, Meredith pulled out a tiny glass jar from the back of the refrigerator and held it up to the light. It had been a maraschino-cherries
jar, but now it held only one pale green orb floating in a sea of white vinegar. The lone sailor was not a maraschino cherry but the grape Jake had left on her pillow.

She smiled. It seemed to be preserving itself nicely. One week in its watery captivity hadn’t done much damage to the memorialized fruit. Back in the far corner of the fridge went the jar, leaving Meredith feeling contented, like a kid who was succeeding at a science experiment.

Now, if only I could preserve a relationship the way I pickle grapes. Then I’d have something to write a book about!

Content to settle for an apple as the final course of her lunch, Meredith took a hike to the mailbox at the end of her long driveway. The weather had been unseasonably warm in her corner of the world, and all the spindly wildflowers were bent over the edge of the road. Pretty little maids in waiting dipped their blue bonnets, surrendering their final bit of color to the occasional passerby. Meri felt sorry for them. And in feeling sorry for the doomed wildflowers, she felt sorry for herself again.

Maybe he wrote me a letter. Maybe a passionately romantic letter waits for me this very second at the end of the road in that big silver box. I’ll stand here in the sunshine and carefully slit open the envelope with my thumbnail. A butterfly will flutter over to see what’s so interesting. I’ll let her sit on my shoulder and share my secrets. Together we’ll read each tender line
,

Meredith put her hand to the rusted metal latch, and the silver cave groaned its discomfort as she opened the door and peered into the darkness.

T
he mailbox was stuffed. This was a good sign. It meant the odds were greater that a letter from Jake was part of the pack. Meredith pulled out the two large manila envelopes first. They were both from an agent she worked with frequently. Two new manuscripts and proposals for her to review. She extracted the other mail carefully. Two magazines, four catalogs, one advertisement for a new pizza place, and four envelopes.

The first envelope was her phone bill. That was always depressing. She would open that one last. The next two were bank statements, one from checking and one from savings. The last letter was from a credit-card company announcing all over the front of the envelope that she was being rewarded for her excellent credit.

Meredith checked inside the hollowed-out mailbox one more time. It was empty. She stood still just a moment, listening to the chickadees in the glen across the road. No butterflies came anywhere near, let alone perched on her shoulder.

With a kick at the nearest pebble in the road, she headed back home. She had so much work to do. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t received any kind of interesting mail. It would have sidetracked her, and she would have spent the rest of the day in La La Land.

And what would be so bad about that? I work too hard. I always have. What was that verse? “For whom am I toiling … and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?”

She couldn’t answer that question. Even her sassy alter ego had no comment to make.

“I need some enjoyment,” Meredith said later that night as she was talking to her old college roommate on the phone. “Any chance you can leave that possessive husband of yours for a weekend so we can get together?”

“When?” Karlee asked.

“I don’t know. Whenever you can get away. We promised each other we would still do our wacky weekends even though you’re married, remember? I think it’s time to plan some fun. We haven’t done anything crazy for more than a year.”

“Sounds fun,” Karlee said. “How about the second weekend in August?”

“August? This is May, Karlee. I don’t want to wait until August!”

“Blake has summer school starting in two weeks, and the weekends are the only time we’ll see each other since we’re both working full-time. What’s wrong with August? We’ll get some of the other wild women together and have a blast.”

“We can do that,” Meri said flatly. “It’ll be fun. Let me know what’s best for you, and we’ll make our plans from there.”

They chatted a few more minutes, but Meredith was feeling a surge of depression coming over her again. It didn’t help that apparently Blake had begun to tickle Karlee, and Meri
could hear Karlee putting her hand over the phone and saying, “Stop it, Blake! I mean it!”

Meredith was no love doctor, but she knew what was going on. “I’ll let you go,” she said. “Call me sometime.”

“Okay,” Karlee said, stifling a giggle. “I will. Bye.”

Before Meredith hung up, she heard Karlee letting loose with a burst of hilarity. “You asked for it!” Karlee said playfully, and then the line went dead.

Meredith sat for a long time and wondered what to do with her longings. It would be nice to have a companion, a pal, a person who tickled her while she was on the phone, someone who loved her and whom she could love. In short, she wanted a husband.

Her thoughts reminded her of the prayer she had prayed consistently since she was fourteen years old. That summer her camp counselor, right here at Camp Autumn Brook, had told her to start praying for her future husband. And so Meredith, sitting in her Tulip Cottage, prayed once again, “Father God, please protect my future husband wherever he is, whoever he is, and direct him on a straight path. Bring him to yourself if he’s not already a follower of you. Prepare me in my heart and life for him so that when we do come together we can be well suited to serve you together. Amen.”

The prayer was familiar but not canned. She meant every word, even though she had prayed it hundreds of times over the past ten years.

Ten years
, Meredith thought.
I’ve been praying for the same thing for ten years. Either God has forgotten about me or he’s been working extra hard and long on a hero for me who will surpass my expectations
.

An image of Jacob Wilde materialized in her thoughts.

Yeah, right
, she chided herself. Before her imagination
could make up any tantalizing stories, Meredith stood and warned herself,
Don’t go there, Meri Jane. Fantasy is a wonderful thing but not when it comes to true matters of the heart. Stay levelheaded. God is preparing someone just right for you
.

Her long-held image of that someone came to mind. He would be short and balding with thick, horn-rimmed glasses. And he would be eminently practical in all the areas of life where Meredith was a klutz. He would raise their children with a firm hand and teach them to respect their elders and eat their lima beans. He would never take money from the retirement account to buy a car, and he would smile warmly at Meredith whenever she entered the room.

“Ha!” Meredith declared aloud. “Ha, ha, and double ha!” It dawned on her that all these years her image of God’s pick for her husband had been a duplicate of her father.

How scary is that? I have to rethink this longing-of-my-heart business
.

She stared at the kitchen cupboards. As she did, her mind was diverted from thinking about marriage. She had never noticed before, but the cupboard on the end had the profile of a face in the dark wood grain. Amazing. If she tilted her head to the left just so, it kind of looked like Elvis. Elvis in the early years.

“I think I need a goldfish,” she suddenly declared to the silhouette in the cupboard. The idea came out of the blue, where her best and most imaginative thoughts came from. And she thought it was a good one.

On Monday morning, Meredith got up early, showered, drove into town, and entered the only pet shop on the island promptly at nine
A.M.
, just as the doors opened. There wasn’t much selection.

“Are these your best goldfish?” she asked the shopkeeper.