Dear Granny, page 14
She sipped her coffee and looked back down at the verse in Proverbs she’d just read: “Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed.”
All these months, she’d been giving advice to people, instructing them with Nana’s help on how to best deal with issues concerning them. Yet she’d never once sought advice concerning her own problems. Not from Nana, not from God. Instead, she’d blindly struck out on a path of her own choosing, never stopping to consider the haste with which she acted.
Sure, she could explain away her actions as only doing what she thought was right at the time, but it didn’t make it right. A verse from Isaiah 55 came to her as she dwelled on the idea: “ ‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord.”
How true.
It hadn’t been God’s intent for her to go to the park; the uneasiness she’d felt in her spirit that morning was put there for a reason. If only she had heeded God’s warning then, she wouldn’t be in the fix she was in now.
“Are you still browbeating yourself over what happened?” Nana asked, as she brought Leslie a sandwich and set it before her.
Leslie shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wish things had turned out differently, is all.”
“It does no good to foolishly wish for things that can never be. What’s happened has happened. Now it’s time to go forward. Learn from your mistakes, but don’t let them control you, Leslie.”
Propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin against her hand, Leslie observed her grandmother. “Nana, how did you come to be so wise?”
Her grandmother laughed and sat down across from her with her own sandwich. “Perhaps it’s the one good thing that can be said about growing old.”
“I doubt Mr. Abernathy sees you as old.”
A becoming flush colored Nana’s cheeks, and Leslie smiled.
Perhaps romance was in the air. If so, Leslie was glad. For herself, she could only wait and see what the week brought, since the letter to her readers was now in print. Her boss hadn’t been at all happy with Leslie’s decision, but since the attack, she’d found herself less meek where Mr. Abernathy was concerned and, for once, had politely stood her ground.
God, it’s all in Your hands now. Where I should have put it from the start.
❧
Tired of watching a nature series on African wildlife, Blaine flicked through the channels of the TV in his room at the rustic inn. He supposed he should just go to bed but had tried that intelligent idea once without success. The rustle and soft thump of something hitting against his room door startled him. Had he been asleep, he doubted the noise would have awakened him. As alert as he was, with the volume of the TV turned down low so as not to wake any of his neighbors, he’d heard the thump well.
Curious, he moved to the door and opened it. A recent copy of the Goosebury Gazette lay on the flat brown carpet at his feet. Relieved that the woman at the desk had been able to locate the newspaper he’d requested, he picked it up and once more got comfortable on his bed. Without hesitation, he opened to the “Dear Granny” section, then frowned, perplexed. This was different.
Dear Readers,
This past summer, you’ve graciously allowed me into your homes, asking difficult questions, expecting helpful answers. To the best of my ability, I’ve provided aid or encouragement whenever I could. Yet in one matter I failed most dreadfully. I gave you counsel but didn’t seek advice when I myself needed it. In so doing, I failed at my own relationship and hurt the man I’ve come to love by shielding the truth from him.
A shrewd king named Solomon once wrote this proverb: “Listen to advice and accept instruction, and in the end you will be wise.” Given recent events, I can hardly call myself wise. Therefore, I think it best I resign from my post as Dear Granny. I’m hardly experienced enough for the important job of instructing you in your lives when I’ve failed so miserably in my own.
Take heart, the column will continue, and I’ve been assured my replacement will be just as wise (hopefully more so than I). Before I conclude this letter, I wish to address a very special reader one last time—
Blaine read the snippet below the column, and a painful lump formed in his throat, spreading to his heart:
Dear Hopeless in Love,
Forgive. She never meant to hurt you.
Fourteen
“I can’t believe we’re finally getting to eat lunch together.” Carly laughed. She finished the last of her huge chef salad.
“Me, either. It seems like each time we tried, something came up.” Leslie smiled. “I’m sorry about last time.”
“What’s to be sorry about? I knew it was important that you and your mom talk. And I’m sure you had a lot to talk about.”
Carly was right. Leslie’s mom had been frantic ever since she’d arrived at her New York home after being out of town a week and learned of Leslie’s attack. They’d ended up talking on the phone for over an hour.
“We did have a lot to discuss,” Leslie agreed. “Talking about the attack led to talking of other things and airing a lot of buried feelings I’ve had since their divorce. As a result, we were able to get some things straightened out between us. Actually, I think the call drew me closer to my mom than I’ve ever felt before.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I wish I could say the same about my aunt and uncle.” Carly stabbed a cherry tomato with her fork and popped it into her mouth. “But I’m still being punished for the sins of my mother.”
Leslie sympathized. “One day, I’m sure you can work it all out with them.”
“Maybe.” The word was heavy with doubt.
“Well, I guess I should be getting back home.”
Carly glanced at her watch, quirking her mouth to the side as if considering. “How about hitting a store or two first—if you’re up to it?”
“Well. . .”
“Crandell’s is having a pre-season sale.”
Leslie laughed. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”
They visited the store, but Leslie didn’t see anything to interest her. Carly tried on almost every outfit in her size from the two round sale racks and then decided to purchase only a scarf in shades of blue and green. At least there was a chair for Leslie to sit in when she grew tired.
Once they left the shop, Leslie thought Carly would take her home, but soon she found herself standing beside her friend at a vegetable and fruit stand Carly just couldn’t resist as she drove by. Here, Carly was more willing to part with her money and, after carefully inspecting each vegetable or piece of fruit, bought two cartons of food. Afterward, she said that trying on all those clothes and hunting through the vegetables made her hungry again, and she stopped at an ice-cream place for a frozen-yogurt cone.
Leslie was starting to get edgy. She was tired—this was her first day out, after all—and she wanted to go home, but she bit back a taut reply and politely agreed. Carly didn’t usually act so selfish; maybe she was just excited they were finally getting to spend a girls-day-out together, and she didn’t realize Leslie was about ready to drop.
“Leslie,” Carly said thoughtfully, after she licked the peak of her vanilla mound. “If Blaine were to forgive you and would want to renew your relationship, would you consider it?”
“Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have written what I did.”
“About loving him?”
Leslie’s face grew hot. “Yes.”
“What if you two were to get together, and he should ask you to marry him someday in the future? Would you?”
Taken aback and a little flustered with the direct line of questioning, Leslie paid supreme attention to crunching into the last of her chocolate cone. “You’re rushing things quite a bit. Right now, he won’t even talk to me.”
“Hm. Guess you’re right.” Carly concentrated on her cone, a slight smile forming at the corners of her mouth. “But just suppose it did work out. Would you marry him?”
“I don’t know. I might.” Leslie concentrated on wiping each finger individually with her napkin.
“Okay, okay. I’ll change the subject.” Carly’s grin reminded Leslie of a mischievous child about to thrust a grass snake at her face. “I hear Abernathy wants you back.”
Leslie relaxed. “Yeah, it was the strangest thing. You would think that the letter I wrote would have ensured that the readers wouldn’t want me as Dear Granny anymore.”
“You were good at what you did. Even I have to admit that. Why do you think the column is so popular?” Carly reached in her purse for her lipstick and smoothed the dark pink shade on in three swift strokes, using the mirror in the lipstick case as a guide, then pressed her lips together. The action brought her dimples into prominence. “I may not have always agreed with you one hundred percent, Les, or even fifty, but I could tell you cared about the people you wrote to, and after that first writing disaster when you were new on the column, you came to care about what you wrote. Your advice helped a lot of people.”
“Thanks to Nana.”
“Don’t discount your way with words. Both of you play a big part in the column. And isn’t it fantastic that Big Chief offered your grandmother a paying role in all this? You think she’ll take it?”
“I hope so. The column’s helped her focus on other peoples’ problems, which helped to take her mind off her own. I really think it was good for her. In a way, it was partly due to the column that she found the strength to get over her fear of driving or riding in cars and to come to the hospital. If I hadn’t been Dear Granny, I wouldn’t have gone to the park that day.”
Carly sobered. “Yeah, that was something. Have you heard anything more from that girl?”
“You mean Sharon Lester?” At Carly’s nod, Leslie sighed. “No, but Nana told me she gave her a book that I’d given her, and I think it’ll help. I’m sure she’s safe, since her husband’s in jail.”
“I guess you’ll have to testify?”
“I imagine so.”
“At least you can’t say your life’s been boring.”
Leslie laughed at Carly’s teasing words. “That’s the truth. Since I became Dear Granny, my world has tilted on its axis.”
“You know, there’s another good thing about it you haven’t considered. . . .” Carly grew meditative. “I doubt Blaine will object to your keeping the ‘Dear Granny’ beat. Now that he knows who you are, I’ll bet he’d even support you in it. He must’ve thought it was a good column, since he wrote you two letters asking for advice.”
“Are we on that subject again?” Leslie felt rattled. Carly obviously had more faith than Leslie that things would work out with Blaine. It had been three days since the newspaper with her letter to the readers had been circulated, and except for Nana’s calls and Carly’s, her phone remained silent.
“Cheer up,” Carly said, grabbing her purse and rising from the table. “It’ll work out. Aren’t you Christians always the ones talking about living by faith?”
The words weren’t snide, but they surprised Leslie, nonetheless. Usually at any mention of God, Carly changed the subject. Leslie could hardly believe she was introducing it.
“You’re right. Thanks for getting me back on course, Carly. I gave the circumstances to God while I was at the hospital. I just need to let Him work it all out and trust that He’ll do what’s best for both of us. Easy to say, hard to do.”
Carly’s smile wasn’t as wide as usual, but it seemed more sincere than any to date. “Let’s get you home. I’ve kept you out long enough. I’ve seen you yawn twice, and I wouldn’t want your nana to give me an earful.”
“Nana’s not there.” Leslie eyed her friend strangely. “She’s not coming over until tomorrow night.”
“Oh.” Carly nodded once as if remembering. “Right.”
Their trip back to Leslie’s house was quiet. Carly’s mind seemed stuck in another world.
They pulled onto the dirt drive fronting Leslie’s home, and the car rolled to a stop in front of the house. Leslie’s mouth dropped open, and she stared, closed her eyes for a few seconds, and then opened them again. She must be dreaming.
Parallel rows of gorgeous blue and purple flowers paraded in a long border up to her front porch steps. All along the front of her house, flowers of the same color along with taller yellow, blue, and red blooms spread out in glorious profusion.
“What. . . ?” she breathed when she could speak.
“Well, Les, I’d like to stay, but I can’t. I’ve got plans for the night. So I’ll just drop you off here.”
Leslie’s attention snapped her way. “Don’t you see all the flowers?”
Carly’s expression was deadpan. “Well, of course I do, silly. I’d have to be blind not to. It looks like instead of the usual red carpet, someone rolled out a carpet of flowers for you.” Her gaze flew to the porch, and her grin became positively naughty. “And oh, look. There’s that someone now.”
Leslie turned to see. Her heart gave a little leap as she continued to stare.
Blaine!
“If your jaw drops any farther, it’ll be in your lap,” Carly teased. “Get on up there. He’s waiting for you.”
Leslie fumbled with the latch and somehow managed to open the door. She wasn’t sure how her legs moved the distance up the walk and was glad when Blaine met her halfway.
❧
With a honk and a wave, Carly drove off. Blaine waved back, thankful for her help in diverting Leslie’s attention for the past few hours. It had taken every minute of that time to transplant the flowers from his mom’s garden, front and back, to Leslie’s yard.
Her focus still dreamlike, she looked from his face and down to the colorful rows of flowers, then back again. “How did you. . .”
When her words trailed off, he finished for her. “Manage to do this before you got back? I had help.” He looked over his shoulder to Leslie’s front window, where her grandmother stood looking out at them. The woman lifted her hand in a slight wave, then moved away from the curtains. “And she brought some of her own to plant, too,” he said as he faced Leslie again.
“I just. . .I can’t believe this.”
“I’m just not sure why I didn’t think of doing it before.”
“It’s all so beautiful, Blaine. My home’s never looked nicer.” Her gaze was soft but still seemed unsure. “And you were so thoughtful to do this for me.”
“A simple apology didn’t seem like enough this time.” He felt suddenly nervous. “Besides, you’re the one with the green thumb. I just toss up the dirt. Croissants, not crocuses, are what I do best.”
She shifted her weight to one foot as if uncomfortable. Small wonder. She’d only been out of the hospital a week and a half.
“Would you like to sit on the porch?” she asked quietly.
“That’s a good idea.”
They sat on the top step and stared ahead at the stone walkway. Neither said a word.
He may not be a silver-tongued Romeo, but surely he could get out the words he needed to say somehow.
“Leslie. . .” He moved his head to look at her and was met by the heart-stirring sight of her wide hazel eyes as she turned toward him at the same time. Something seemed to lodge in the middle of his throat. “I read your letter. In the paper.”
She gave a faint nod. “I hoped you would. That’s partly why I wrote it. I really didn’t know you’d written those letters, Blaine. Not until I was in the hospital and read that last one. Even then, Nana had to point it out to me. She knew all along. Like I said, I’m just so sorry, and I wish I could turn time back. But I can’t.”
“I’m sorry, too. For the way I blew up at the hospital that day.”
“It’s perfectly understandable, though it did make me wonder if I’d ever see you again.”
Her statement gave him the boldness he lacked. “Would you have been too disappointed if you hadn’t?”
“Very.” The sincerity in her eyes made his heart pick up a beat.
“The flowers weren’t just meant as an apology, Leslie. I wanted to give you something that was mine. Something I knew would make you happy. The look on your face when you got out of Carly’s car made it all worthwhile.” He took her soft hand, cupping it in his. “Leslie, the truth is, I want to share everything I have with you. These past days have given me a lot of time to think. And I want to marry you someday.”
Her intake of break was quick. “Oh, Blaine, you really mean it?”
“Yes.”
Wariness replaced the joy in her eyes. “I resigned as Dear Granny in that letter in the paper, but oddly enough, the public wants me back. Mr. Abernathy has been getting calls and letters since it went into print. Seeing as my grandmother will be given a paying job for her help now, I’ve already told him I would continue with the column.”
“Okay.” Blaine was unsure why she would bring up such a sudden switch in topic at this pivotal time. “I think it’s a great idea. The advice you both gave readers was top-notch.”
“Then it wouldn’t bother you if I continued giving advice to the lovelorn?”
So that was it. Relief made him grin. “Not as long as you don’t go chasing after any more readers.”
“Yes, that was a bad idea.”
“Leslie, you can turn to me any time. A couple shouldn’t hide important things from one another.”
“I agree.” She looked down a moment, then lifted her head again. “I was unsure about a lot of things before, including myself and what you’d think of me if you knew what I did at the paper, especially after what I’d told you that time at the bridge. That I’d never dated. But after what happened in the park, well, I guess coming so close to death gives a person a different view on life. I feel I’ve matured a bit since then. I’ve stopped harping on things that are of little importance—like the fear of what people may think—and I’ve learned to be less passive about a number of things. Including making decisions and sticking to them.”
“There’s still one decision you’ve yet to make,” Blaine reminded, trying to keep his tone casual, though his pulse raced. “Regarding the question I just asked. Will you marry me?”
