Sweet Caroline(31)

Elle’s in the Firehouse loft where she’s reserved the chairs around a coffee table.

“Did you walk?” She pats a cushioned chair arm next to her.

“It’s a beautiful night.”

“It’s going to rain.”

I plop down. “I don’t melt.” However, I do sweat. The walk over was warmer than I thought and I’ve perspired myself. The AC feels good.

Dappled evening light flows through the high windows and falls across the banister and bookshelves lining the old brick walls.

“Did church freak you out yesterday?” Elle sips her espresso.

“A little.”

“I loved it. Pastor O’Neal doesn’t prophesy like that often. You’ll get used to it.” She sets her cup down and digs into a large tote, producing a notebook and what appears to be a couple of our high school yearbooks. “Tonight, we are talking about my future love life, tentatively entitled Operation Wedding Day. Here’s our starting point.”

“What makes you think I’m going back to church?” I reach for the top book. Class of ’94. Elle has some of the pages marked with multi-colored sticky flags. “What is all this?”

“Of course you’ll be back. Caroline, Jesus told you in front of three hundred people He loves you. After you ran off like a scared hen, Pastor only spoke to two more people. Okay, the yearbooks. Last night—”

Elle’s explanation fades to the background as “Jesus told you in front of three hundred people He loves you” loops over and over in my mind. Is that what happened?

“So, what do you think?”

“Um, what? Sorry, you lost me there for a second. What are we doing?”

“Caroline, holy cow, pay attention. Look, I went through and marked all of the pages with men I (a) once had a crush on, (b) would like to have had a crush on, (c) know are still single and acceptable for at least one date, (d) don’t know a status on but would like to find out, and (e) definitely would want to get something going with if available.”

I’m speechless, really, for at least a nanosecond. “You’re crazy.”

“Why? Why does this make me crazy? Speaking of, here’s my celebrity list. I limited it to five men, figuring it to be a realistic number.”

“Realistic? Elle . . . Matthew McConaughey?” I drop the list, letting it float down to the table. “When are you going to meet Matthew McConaughey. Isn’t he, like, fifty or something?”

“Fifty? Girl, he’s only, like, thirty-eight or -nine. And a lot of celebs are visiting the lowcountry these days. He might just happen into my gallery.”

“I don’t dream like this when I’m asleep.”

“And you’ve never had a plan and look where it got you.”

Ouch, bringing out the big guns. Well, right back at you, El. “J. D. kissed me today.”

My friend pops up straight with surprise. “And . . .”

If she’d offered me a million bucks, I couldn’t have stopped smiling. “Very yummy.”

“Jess was right? He’s a good kisser.”

“Very.”

“That does it; I’m finding someone.” Elle reaches for a notebook and flips open to the first blue-lined page. “I’ve color coded the categories of the sticky flags. Red is ‘once had a crush on,’ see? Blue, ‘would like to have had a crush on,’ and so on.”

“Elle, you need serious help. Color coding?”

“If eHarmony can match people on a computer, based on some psychological test, then I can color code a few known prospects.”

Exchanging my sophomore yearbook for my senior yearbook, I re-mind my friend of a few points. “Aren’t you the one who told me God is in control of your life? How is this letting Him run the show? You claimed to trust Him when you studied in Florence. When you decided to go on a mission to Guatemala. Even when you opened your gallery. Now that you’re ready to get married, He’s off the job somehow? Gone fishing?”

Elle swats at my knee. “No, He’s still in control, Caroline. I’m just lining up some men He and I can discuss.”

“Oh, really? I’m sure He was just stumped without your help.” Flipping over to our senior class photos, I see the pages are loaded with lots of sticky flags.

“Look at you, one Sunday in church and you’re all about how God thinks.”

“I’m just repeating what you’ve said over the years.” Truth is—and I can’t explain it—I’ve felt strong today. Confident.

“I don’t know, Caroline. Maybe I’m restless.” Elle falls back against the large, overstuffed club chair. “I love owning the gallery. Shooting weddings is a great joy for me. I’m never jealous, you know, of the bride. But after a while I realized, this is it. I’m home now. A businesswoman. Where am I going to meet a man to share my life with?”

Closing the book over my thumb, I face Elle. “Believe me, I understand. I felt the same way each time I took some admin or clerical job just to help out the family or a family friend. I wanted a passion for something, you know? Then I get the Café. Elle, it’s not my passion, but I’m doing what I have to do.”

“You’re so brave, Caroline.”

“Not really. But, listen to me, you’re too beautiful, inside and out, for a man not to find you and lose himself in your deep, green eyes. You’re the brightest star when we’re all out together, outshining all of us. If you weren’t so genuine, Hazel, Jess, and I would loathe you.”