If you would like to play the “Name this Story” game, please read the story below and send title suggestions to me at the following email: joy@joycleveland.com. The winner will be announced in my October newsletter and receive a signed copy of my first novel, To Call My Own. Happy Brainstorming!
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
“Are you mad at me, Jack?” A gentle breeze played with Joceyln’s bangs. She pushed them to the side. “I’m just trying to make our daughter happy. You know that, don’t you?”
Of course he didn’t answer.
She touched the red tulips that had sprouted early, then traced the letters of her husband’s grave. She had wanted to plant yellow, but Jack liked red.
Jocelyn knew these early morning visits to the cemetery were excessive, that her adult daughter would not approve. Two years after Jack’s hunting accident, Kristen had insisted that her mother rejoin the human race and get on with her life. Jocelyn had finally conceded.
As she drove to work and pulled into the teacher’s parking lot at Madison High School, Jocelyn revisited last night’s conversation with Kristen. Her daughter had stormed the house, armed with a large shopping bag from Weigands. Before she departed, Jocelyn’s black slacks landed in the garbage, and a sleek aqua top and a pair of white capris hung in the closet right next to Jack’s clothes. “And try that necklace; the one Aunt Edna gave you,” Kristen had ordered before she hurried to her car and backed out of the driveway. Jocelyn had simply nodded.
Throughout the morning as her literature students traipsed in and out, Jocelyn found herself watching the clock, willing it to slow down. By lunchtime, she was too nervous to eat in the staff lounge. She took out a tuna sandwich and began grading first period’s book reports.
A coffee mug slid into view. Jocelyn looked up.
“Three packets of sugar, no cream.”
“Thanks Nick.”
The math teacher folded his tall frame into a front row desk. “Playing the hermit, are we?”
“No, just catching up.”
“It’s Friday, Mrs. Pruitt.”
“I know, but—”
“In the words of Mr. Thoreau, ‘He enjoys true leisure who has time to improve his soul’s estate.’ ”
“My soul is just fine, thank you very much.”
Nick leaned over and propped his chin on one hand. “Something bothering you?”
Jocelyn sighed. If she could tell anyone, she could tell Nick. He was the older brother she never had. She capped the red pen. “I told Kristen I would go out on a blind date. Tonight.”
“Is that so bad?”
“Well, no.” Jocelyn slurped her coffee. “But, it’s just that . . . I’m so nervous.”
Nick’s voice softened. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“That he won’t be like . . .” She closed her mouth suddenly.
“No Jocelyn, he won’t be like Jack.”
She looked away, wiped at her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to . . .”
Nick reached over and placed a tissue in her hand. “Hey, I think you can trust your own daughter.”
Jocelyn nodded as the bell rang. Nick gave her shoulder a quick squeeze.
By the time Jocelyn arrived home, she was nauseated. She punched Kristen’s number, fully intending to cancel, but her daughter’s answering machine picked up, and Jocelyn knew she was too late. Kristen was already on her way to some counselor’s convention in Nashville. There was no turning back.
Jocelyn walked through the quiet house and found herself in front of the bathroom mirror. “Fifty-three years old, and I’m acting worse than my students.” She turned on the shower, then pulled her new clothes from the closet.
An hour later, she stood before the mirror again and frowned at the snug fit of the top. What was Kristen thinking? And the necklace was a bit fussy, lots of dangling beads. She brushed her hair for the sixth time while looking at the clock on the nightstand. Four hours from now, it would all be over. She could already hear the conversation with Kristen, “Yes, honey, I had a wonderful time, but . . .”
The doorbell rang, and Jocelyn stopped breathing. She looked towards the ceiling. “Please, dear God, help me.”
Somehow she managed to walk down the hall, enter the foyer, and put her hand on the doorknob. But then her courage failed. The doorbell rang again. She peered though the eyehole. Oh, thank heavens! It was just Nick. She’d probably forgotten something at the school. One time he’d found her cell phone. She whisked the door open. “Hi.”
Nick’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Hi. You look great.”
Jocelyn smiled. “Just following Kristen’s orders.”
“So, you’re all ready then?”
“No, but I made it this far.”
“One step at a time. That’s good.” He pushed his hands in his pockets. “So, where am I taking you?”
“Excuse me?”
“For dinner.”
Jocelyn sucked in air. “You mean you didn’t just drop by, you’re . . .”
His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” But he quickly sobered. “I hope you’re not disappointed. It was actually my idea. I talked it over with Kristen, and we both thought you might be more comfortable this way.”
Jocelyn looked at the tall man, dressed simply in a navy polo shirt and khaki pants. He was definitely not her linebacker husband who used to turn heads and tackle life. Nick was completely bald with a gray goatee and slight build. He played the organ at church, tinkered with old Jeeps, and grew exotic flowers. Years ago, Nick’s wife had left him with three young children to raise. Some men would have grown hard and crusty, but not Nick.
Jocelyn shook her head. “No, I’m not disappointed; I’m relieved.”
“Good, I’m relieved too.” His hands came out of his pockets. “Before we go, I’ve got something for you.” He bent down and lifted a terra cotta pot that held a delicate, funnel-shaped plant. “It’s a calla lily. If you’d like, I’ll plant it for you when we get back. I hope you like yellow.”
Yellow. The color of sunlight, banana pudding, and grandma’s lemon cake. The color of her childhood bedroom and her dress on graduation day. The color of happiness and hope. “I love yellow.”
“Well, I guess I picked the right one for you then.”
Jocelyn gazed into his warm hazel eyes and forgot all about calling Kristen. “You certainly did.”
