Cafe' Encounters-Part 3
A slow smile spread over my face and a quick prayer of thanks reached heavenward.
“Well, good morning! A nice day to be in by the fireplace in your favorite coffee shop isn’t it” I said, reaching for my overcoat.
“I agree it is…if I didn’t disturb you too much yesterday do you mind?”
“Not at all…sit yourself down.”
“Thanks” placing her bag and coat on the chair, “I’ll be back…” and turned to the counter.
“Hey…if you’re hungry…try their carrot muffins, you won’t be sorry.” To which she turned and graced me with a thankful beam. It amazed me how much her face lit up when she smiled. I just wished her smile reached all the way to her eyes. Lord, what has happened to her that has caused such deep down sadness. Help me to be sensitive and maybe be a source of help for her. I couldn’t deny the pull of curiosity mixed with a desire to help. Reaching for my coffee I promised myself to go slow but not so slow that I wouldn’t get her name this time. Opening my journal I tried to concentrate on my own writing while waiting for her to come back.
Soon, she was back balancing a two plates and a cup of coffee in her hands.
“The girl at the counter,” indicating Jill with a quick nod of her head, “said to give these new cookies to try. She gave us each one, so I passed on the muffin, thanks anyway.” She said with an apologetic smile, “Maybe next time.”
“No worries…thanks, you look like you’ve done this before?”
“I worked as a waitress for a few years while going to college.”
“College…where did you go?”
“Oh a private girl’s college in Boston.” And feeling the door of opportunity quickly coming to a close as she pilled her portfolio from her bag, I reached out a hand,
“We didn’t get to properly introduce ourselves yesterday; my name is Ryan, Ryan Coalman, yours…” I asked, hoping it would be forth coming but seeing hesitancy in her eyes.
“Oh, ah…I’m sorry…it’s Clancy…” giving my hand a cautious shake.
“Nice to meet you... Clancy…” hoping she would give me her last name. Looking at me steadily and she then seemed to make a decision.
“Yes, me too…and its Clancy…Clancy Weatherington.” Her gaze never left mine although I am sure she expected a reaction to her name. The Weatherington’s name was often in the news as Josiah Weatherington III was the prolific author and producer of many books and much controversy in the news. He was not only an author himself but founder /owner of Weatherington Publishing House. His stance on what was acceptable literature brought much opposition to his door, specifically because he was such a successful and visible publisher in spite of having held his ground on strong Christian principles. I looked at her quizzically,
“The Weatherington’s of Weatherington Publishing House?” Her eyes lowered at the increased interest and curiosity she saw. Easy boy, I cautioned myself.
“Yes…” she said sadly,
“Daughter,” I ventured…
“No, not a daughter, I’m a Weatherington yes…but a grand-niece. Josiah Weatherington’s sister is my grandmother.”
“Well, good to meet you.” I said cheerfully, trying to save the moment but knowing something had crossed in our communication that was threatening to keep distance between us. “I hadn’t heard of a Clancy as one of his daughters so this solves that short lived mystery.”
“Well that’s good... and as I’m hadn’t meant to interrupt you...I’ll let you go back to your…writing?”
“Oh yes,” lifting the journal from my lap, “I always try to record the events of yesterday first thing or else it gets lost in the current days events. Do you journal?” I asked not wanting the conversation to stop.
“Hm-m-m, don’t know if I would call it journaling as such. I’m not a writer…”giving me a rather pointed looked, “I just ramble on about whatever comes to my mind. Taking in the here and now of where I am at the moment.”
“Well isn’t that a form of journaling, not all of it is just recording facts. Some people have journals for all kinds of things like for instance I record my thoughts after I read in the Bible. Ever attempt anything like that?”
“I do…but why the interest?”
“Oh, it’s a remarkable discipline I am just now picking up and am still discovering all the places I can incorporate it. You’d think at my age,” pointing to my slightly graying sideburns, “I would have been aware of this, but…” shrugging my shoulders. Smiling she actually reached over and patted my arm slightly,
“Well Ryan, sometimes it takes life’s events to draw a person to journaling’s benefits. I hope you came by it through a happier circumstance?” Her eyes clouding over with a remembrance of some painful memory. My Christian heart just ached in sympathy for the hurt I saw in her eyes and I wondered if I dared broach the subject just yet of her sadness. I decided to bide my time, not wanting to scare her off through my impatience.
“Well, actually yes and no…” I said waiting for a signal that it was safe to go on.
“Yes and no…so it was mixed? That will do it. You’ll have to share it with me some time, but now I think I should let you go back to what you were doing.” She smiled pointing at my journal and Bible. “Besides, I’d like to get on with my own,” pulling her Bible from the pink and black oversized bag she carried.
“Of course,” happy to let it go for now as my heart clamped on to the invitation to share ‘sometime.’ Hopefully that meant she would be back and we would get to share again. Maybe even later this morning…so taking hold of my pen and enthusiasm, I lifted a prayer of thanks to God for Clancy Weatherington and this opportunity.
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