Weeds in the Garden of Love (6 page)

Craig hoped he could remember all the details—at least the details he was aware of. He glanced up at the poster. “Right again, ladies. I’ll start at the very beginning of this mess—back in college when I met her.”

* * *

“
Hey, Andrews! Wait up!” Craig turned and saw Grant heading towards him across Wesley Square. Grant Chambers was his best friend. He was tall and gangly with a heart of gold. He was also out of breath and excited about something. “Man, you’re a hard guy to catch. I mean—you give a guy an MBA, and you can’t catch him.”

Craig was about to answer, and then it struck him. “MBA? You mean the marks are posted? I passed?”

Grant put his arm around Craig’s shoulders. “Passed? Are you nuts? I can’t believe you. You made the Dean’s list, you knucklehead! You’re at the top of the friggin’ class!”

Craig couldn’t believe it. He had worked hard to earn his MBA, and now he had it. Without so much as a thank-you or a see-you-later, he left Grant standing on the Square and ran over to the bulletin board in Memorial Hall. A large group of students were gathered around looking up names. Some were excited and giggling while others were disappointed and morose.

Craig tried to make his way up through the crowd to see his marks. His pal Eddie Brankowski spotted him. “Well, if it isn’t our Mr. Andrews—number one on the old hit parade. Way to go, buddy.”

“
Thanks, Eddie.” Craig was embarrassed by the attention. He managed to move in close to the bulletin board and found his name on the list. His heart was pounding as he read his final grades. He could hardly wait to tell Chrissie.

Craig walked out of Memorial Hall and across Wesley Square. He took in the beauty of the place: the majestic oak trees, the bright flowerbeds and the ivy-covered buildings.
I’m going to miss this place,
he thought.
M
ade some good friends and had a lot of good times. Best of all, this is where I met my soul mate.

* * *

Craig and Chrissie’s first encounter was at the campus pub. On that particular night, Craig and Grant were celebrating after submitting their economics papers just before the deadline. Actually, they didn’t need a special occasion to drink. Sunset would do.

It seems all campus watering holes share the same interior decorator. This one was no different. Clusters of wooden chairs and tables adorned with a cluster of condiments and small metal pails of unshelled peanuts. The walls were decked out with expired license plates, beer company neon signs and pictures of championship sports teams from by-gone eras. When the pub was crowded the air was full of smoke, and the floor was covered with a mixture of sawdust and peanut shells. Television sets around the room were invariably tuned to some kind of sporting event from just about any place in the world. On the wall beside the kitchen door, a cartoon picture advertised the house special: a mug of cold draft and a pastrami sandwich for $3.95. The place was heaven for a college student.

Craig and Grant usually sat at the bar. The bartenders were friendly, and the service was faster. The bar was all wood and brass, with decorative draft taps and a huge mirror behind rows of liquor bottles.

Craig was instantly captivated when he spotted Chrissie. She was sitting at a table across the room with a group of young ladies celebrating someone’s birthday. They were all laughing and guffawing as the “birthday girl,” identified by her silly “birthday girl” hat, opened another gift. Chrissie was facing Craig. She caught his eye a couple of times but quickly looked away. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
Can’t tell if she’s interested or just flirting. But man, oh man—is she drop-dead gorgeous or what?

Chrissie had dark, curly shoulder length hair, beautiful brown eyes and the whitest teeth Craig had ever seen. She was petite and although she was wearing an extra-large Harvard sweatshirt and baggy khakis, Craig suspected a killer body was hidden underneath.
I have to find a way to meet her,
Craig thought.

“
Nice, huh?” Grant said.

“
Who is?” Craig was trying to appear nonchalant. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“
C’mon. You know who.” Grant glanced over at Chrissie’s table. “Raven O’Hair.”

“
Hate to burst your bubble, but a woman that beautiful would never be interested in you.” Craig turned his head to hide his smile.

Grant laughed even though he expected silly twists like that from Craig. “Not me, numb nuts!” Grant said. “She’s been looking at you.”

Craig knew Grant was right. He turned and caught a glimpse of Chrissie laughing and holding her beer mug up for a group cheers.

“
No way, man,” Craig said. “A chick like that wouldn’t have anything to do with a schmuck like me. Bet you ten bucks.”

“
You’re on.” Grant hopped off his bar stool and headed over to Chrissie’s table. “Be right back.”

Craig reached to grab him, but Grant was already halfway across the bar. He watched as Grant approached her table.
How could I forget who I
was talking to?
He
knew I was bluffing. He’s right. I am a numb nuts.

Grant strolled back and Craig tingled with anticipation. “You were right.” He watched Craig closely for his reaction. “She’s not interested. I can’t believe it.”

Craig tried to justify her rejection. “She’s probably taken—a woman that beautiful always has a guy.”

“
Nope, not this time.” Grant handed Craig a ten-dollar bill. “Sorry, big guy, but I asked her. She’s single. I even told her about our bet. I don’t think she’s interested.”

Craig pocketed his winnings. “Well, thanks for doing your best to embarrass me. I really appreciate the effort.”

“
Anytime,” Grant said. “Anytime.”

They finished their pitcher of draft. As they stood up to leave, one of the young ladies from Chrissie’s table walked up to them.

“
For you,” she said. She handed Craig a piece of neatly folded paper. Craig looked and realized Chrissie and her other friends were gone. He unfolded the paper and couldn’t believe his eyes as he read the note:

You owe me ten-dollars. Call me at 647-3852 to arrange payment—Chrissie

“
So. Are you going to tell me what that note was all about—or will I have to read about it in the paper?” Grant asked, when they were outside.

“
Let’s just say, don’t ever give up hope, Grant my friend. You never know what can happen.” Grant mumbled something inaudible and staggered away into the night.

“
You okay, buddy?” Craig asked.

“
I’ll be fine, Mom. Nightie-night, Craigie.”

“
Later.”

He watched Grant disappear into the shadow of Robson Hall. Craig paused on the square for a few minutes. He had a queasy feeling in his stomach. It was like a weird form of butterflies. He decided he liked the feeling. He looked up at the clear night sky. He had never seen so many stars. He felt like those stars had lined up, and his life was about to change. He was right.

* * *

Craig and Chrissie were married two years later. Chrissie looked absolutely stunning as her father walked her down the aisle—like she was right out of one of those bridal magazines. Her mother made her bridal gown according to the exact specifications Chrissie had supplied. When the organist began playing “Here Comes the Bride”, all the wedding guests turned to watch her. Craig heard a “group gasp” as she appeared. He stood at the front of the church waiting for this beautiful, intelligent woman to join him and pledge her never-ending love. Craig Andrews was convinced he was the luckiest man in the world.

The father-of-the-bride looked more nervous than the bride. Joe DeVries was happy his little girl had found a nice guy to marry, but he hated being the center of attention. He was one of those big strong friendly types who try to avoid the spotlight and hardly ever raise their voice. Joe had never been in a fight because he’d never run across anyone foolish enough to take a swing at him.

Joe was an experienced airline captain and trained to keep his emotions in check, especially during a crisis. Panic would only make a bad situation worse. He had learned to remain calm and look for a solution. Joe told Craig one day: “If I’m going down, I don’t want anyone to hear me shrieking like a tea kettle on the cockpit voice recorder.” Regardless of the emergency, his voice would remain calm right to the end.

This was different, however. He wasn’t in his “office” at the controls of an aircraft. He was giving away his only daughter, and this was her day. Joe did not want to mess it up, and he didn’t.

* * *

Craig and Chrissie honeymooned in The Bahamas at a palm-studded seaside resort on Paradise Island. The place was idyllic with secluded turquoise coves, pristine white sand and a swimming pool with a swim up bar.

They had an incredibly hedonistic time. They did it everywhere. They discovered they were very good at it and couldn’t get enough of it. They did it in the ocean; they did it on the beach and in the pool. They did it in the shower and on the bathroom counter. They even did it in bed. What surprised them both was, for the whole ten days, they didn’t get tired of it. They returned home, surprisingly tanned and rested. More importantly, they were even more head over heels in love and ready to begin their new life.

The early years of Craig and Chrissie’s marriage were filled with love. They easily adjusted to living together despite the occasional disagreement on minor issues and several major battles. All in all, those early years were happy ones.

Craig and Chrissie had been married for about six months when Olivia called to tell Chrissie her grandmother had passed away. Olivia was relieved her mother hadn’t suffered long, but Chrissie heard the pain in her voice. Her mother would need her love and support to get through this.
Daddy can only do so much,
she thought,
and besides, mothers and daughters have a special bond.

Chrissie and Olivia were named as beneficiaries in the will. Several months later, Chrissie opened a letter from the law firm handling her grandmother’s affairs. She was surprised when she saw the check. “Look at this, Craig. We have more than enough here to pay off our student loans and all our debts. We will even have some left over to invest.”

Craig looked at the check. “Wow! I didn’t know Nana was so well off.”

“
Neither did I.” Chrissie’s mind was racing through the possibilities. “I think we need some financial advice.” Chrissie was currently the top seller with one of the smaller real estate agencies in town. She had a natural ability for sales. She worked hard, achieved quick success and now wanted to start her own real estate office.

Craig wasn’t as fortunate. After graduation, he landed a job with a national consulting firm. His performance was exceptional, and he was well liked. Upper management had him pegged for rapid promotion. A year later his company restructured following a merger. He was downsized and looking for work. Craig was stunned but thought he would have no trouble finding another position. He banked his severance package and began the search. He cold-called every contact he had in the business, sent out resumes and even had a few interviews. No one was hiring. Or at least, they weren’t hiring him. He was frustrated.

Craig came home one evening. He was exhausted and dejected. He was two months into his unsuccessful job search and beginning to doubt his abilities and intelligence. He decided to lower his expectations. He was willing to accept anything. He wondered if Wal-Mart was hiring greeters. Chrissie was sitting at the kitchen table with a cigarette in one hand and a tall rum and coke in the other. It was an increasingly familiar scene. He softly kissed the nape of her neck. “Hi, baby,” he said. “How was your day?”

“
Hi, sweetheart.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “Grab a drink. I’ve got some news.”

Craig opened a can of beer and sat down.
Hope it’s good news. I don’t think I can take anymore bad news.

“
I got a call today at the office from John Rogers,” Chrissie said.

“
Who? Never heard of him.”

“
Listen to me. This is important.”

Craig knew by Chrissie’s tone she meant it. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Chrissie told Craig she had done several real estate deals with John. He knew she was looking for an investment and told her about a small real estate agency about to come up for sale. The owners trusted John and gave him a “back-pocket” listing. They were trying to avoid MLS fees by giving a realtor a chance to sell the property before it was listed.

“
The agency has done well over the years,” Chrissie said, “but the owners are old and want to retire. They have allowed the business to slide lately, and we might get a good deal.”

“
What agency is it? And—can we afford it?”

Chrissie became more and more excited as she spoke. She always did when it was something she was interested in. She poured herself another drink and continued. “It’s exactly the opportunity I’ve been waiting for, Craigie.” She called him that when she wanted something. “The agency is Gladwin and Associates. They have a cute heritage building downtown in a central location. It even has lotsa parking for staff and clients. Oh, and yes—we can afford it.”