If You Have Broken-Up With Someone You Loved . . .This is THE Cure For You
One summer morning
I was minding my own affairs and taking a delightful stroll through a vacant area of our city park. I liked it there for there were no crowds of twenty-something's yakking about their stock portfolio just so people like me would be impressed. I hate crowds. I know that I would not make a great traveling evangelist, but I do not feel guilty for this is not my fault.
There she sat. I stopped in my tracks, took a breath and hit myself in the head with a small rock just to confirm that I was awake. Thank God I was fully-awake. What a gorgeous girl she was. Her long brunette hair looked salon-friendly--smooth, shiny, and soft. My heart raced. I was not accustomed to seeing such girls as her.
I prayed to myself that I could ease by her without her seeing me for I was not dressed to make a new acquaintance with my sweat pants and old Hank Williams, Jr. shirt covering a body that was out-of-shape and in need of some exercise.
She stopped staring at her dainty feet and looked right at me. She tried to hide her delicate smile, but failed. I had one of those "I just don't care" urges and walked over to her and said, "How are you this morning?" "Fine," she almost whispered. Then I caught the most-delightful scent of her hair. I almost fainted.
My lips managed to say
"excuse me," as I slowly sat down beside her. She quickly-glimpsed me then stared at her feet once again. Actually I couldn't blame her for she had the perfect feet for a woman--the arch was perfect, her toenails were a loud pink and in her white sandals, I just sat and didn't try to talk. She was the most-beautiful girl I had met in months. Okay, years.
"My name is Tim Bentley. I am honored to meet you," I managed to say.
She giggled softly and replied, "My name is Carrie Fitzgerald. I am equally-honored to meet you." Inwardly, I was so glad she said that. And when I noticed she wasn't wearing an engagement or wedding ring, I was almost beside myself with happiness.
"Carrie" and I sat and talked for most of the morning. Then I suggested that we walk to "my place" in the park where I went to think. It was an old park bench underneath an old Oak tree by the lake that the city seldom stocked with fish and since they passed an ordinance to not allow people to rent the boats to go out on the lake, all I had left was the place to be alone and think about my failures and bad choices I had made over the course of my life.
"Carrie" gently took my hand and we walked slowly toward the old park bench as we talked and shared things about each other. She was more-open about herself than I was. I had suffered a painful-break-up recently and the now-"ex" said that I was too nice to her. Too nice? That thought was stuck in my head. I was still in shock at her remark of me being too nice. I know that in our time together I had never made an inappropriate move or said anything vulgar in her presence. Sure I treated her nice. But too nice?
As she sat down
and gently brushed her hair back, I just had to be spontaneous. Somehow I knew that she would appreciate my next gesture.
"Would you please excuse me for just a moment? I will be back in a moment," I said looking directly into her deep brown eyes.
"Sure. I will be here," she replied as she gently laughed. Part of me worried about leaving her on the bench, but I just had to follow-through with my surprises.
I returned with a pretty bouquet I had bought from a flower vendor on the far side of the park and the vendor, a friend of mine, gave me two hot coffee's as his way of appreciation for my business.
The bouquet was far from fancy or bawdy, but I felt in my heart that she would like the flowers I chose--carnations mixed with daisies. What could I say? I was a crazed-romantic.
"Carrie's" deep brown eyes
grew wide as her mouth flew open at the sight of the bouquet and coffee.
"Hey, what are you up to? We have just met," she said trying to be resistant.
"Well, the flowers and coffee were just sitting there, and I am not one to waste either, so sue me if you must. I just had to see if you liked surprises," I replied being a bit firm.
Then I whipped-out my old cassette player from underneath my Hank, Jr. shirt and she must have thought I was nuts for the cassette I had loaded was Elton John's "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road," but "Carrie" just looked at me and smiled one of "those" smiles that only girls can smile.
"Elton John just happens to be my favorite artist. How did you know?" she asked.
"Aweee, just guessed that you liked his music. He is my favorite too and 'Carrie,' I am not just saying that either," I said as if I were a defense attorney pleading my client's case to the jury.
We sat and talked away the rest of the morning and when early afternoon came, I felt a raindrop on my arm. How blessed could one guy be? Meeting a gorgeous girl, having coffee with her on an old park bench and now it was raining--the perfect excuse to ask if she would like to get some lunch.
We had a great lunch
at a place called "Vido's," a small Italian restaurant near the entrance of the park. I was so thankful that I had a few hundred bucks in my pocket so I would not look like a beggar in asking her to buy our lunch.
'Carrie' ate like a young bird taking small bites and didn't even finish what was on her plate. Neither did I. Normally I would have ate like a famished dog, but not in front of this goddess. We drank our wine slowly and talked some more until the rain got heavier.
She told me very slowly and with a few tears that she had dated this man who she graduated Brown University with and they had made verbal plans to marry when he established his own law firm. She was even showing some excitement in talking about her former man-friend, but caught herself getting too carried-away and I saw the fear in her gorgeous eyes that she might hurt me with her talk of a past that still hurt her.
Now was the perfect opportunity to ask if she would like to go back to my uptown apartment and dry-off from the rain. She was reluctant at first and I told her that I understood her not wanting to visit my place too soon.
But when I mentioned that I owned an old-fashioned piano, her face lit-up like a main town traffic light. Yes, I did promise her that I was old-fashioned and would not make any improper advances for I wanted to make her comfortable with me.
"Carrie," had a background in classical music to my delight and after drying-off, she asked if she could play a few songs on my piano. What a girl this "Carrie" was. She really got into her songs and her pretty facial expressions showed her love for the music.
Then she changed from classical to jazz and I almost jumped from my couch to cheer for her. If this was a dream, I surely did not want to wake-up. 'Carrie' was so sweet, warm and gorgeous to stay nothing about trusting. I knew that our meeting was not by accident.
I found out shortly
that "Carrie's" three things that she loved to talk about (besides music), was her older sister, "Milly," who loved chocolate dough-nuts with white powdered sugar, the Space Shuttle and living on a secluded beach in Panama City, Florida.
I was almost unable to speak from my ears being treated with her soft, angelic-voice. I insisted that she keep talking about herself for I had nothing in my life as exciting as her's to talk about and since she had such a lovely voice, I just had to ask if she had singing experience.
"Sure, some," she said halfway-surprised at my knowing this about her.
I asked her if I played her favorite song, "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight," by James Taylor, would she sing it for me? What a merciful God we have for 'Carrie' argued that it had been a long time since she sang, but since I asked so nicely, she would try.
When she finished her song, I was the one with tears in my eyes. She needed to be at Carnegie Hall if I were any judge of singing talent. And her passion for singing was as intense as her playing the piano. Her flawless-face told the story in the song line by line.
My day with "Carrie"
was way too short and way too fast in evolving. We ate dinner in my apartment for I did surprise her again with what cooking I could do thanks to my sainted mother teaching me when I went away to college.
"Carrie" complimented me on the homemade pasta, bread, and red wine. And still, she did not eat a lot and even left some food on her plate.
Then there came "that" indescribable-moment that comes to every man and woman who have just met and getting to know each other.
"Care to take a late-night walk?" I asked her with a confident tone.
"Sure. Where are we going?" "Carrie" asked very shyly, a trait that I also loved.
"You'll find out soon enough," I said as I took her by the hand and after a half-hour, I stopped at a deserted pier that I had discovered just last year and knew then that one day this place would someday come in handy.
"Carrie" and I sat on the one bench near the end of the pier just listening to the sounds of the summer night entertain and refresh us. The moon was full and its reflection shown perfect on the water as she talked more about ourselves and not with guarded-intentions.
I had to ask her, "'Carrie,' are you going to leave me just when I fall in-love with you?"
She simply stared at me for a moment and then softly replied, "for an intelligent, caring man, that is the most-ignorant question you have asked me since we met."
"Carrie" leaned over and put her head on my shoulder. I was finally happy.
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