After a volatile marriage and an ugly divorce, I'd sworn off love. But the book,
Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Miracle of Love, reveals the true story.
The
judge banged his gavel, and I followed my lawyer out of the courtroom, past my
glaring now ex-husband.
My steps
echoed down the polished marble corridor. Each footfall took me further from the
pain of betrayal, infidelity, and alcohol abuse. I almost danced with elation. The
attorney eyed me strangely. “Most people are distraught when they get
divorced.”
Distraught?
I felt like I’d escaped from a horrible prison. Caring for my fifteen-month-old
daughter Patty was my top priority. Now she wouldn’t suffer growing up in a
dysfunctional, abusive home. We’d been set free.
A few weeks
after the divorce my best friend Debbi asked, “When will you start dating
again?”
“Never,”
I replied. “My new mantra is, ‘Every man on the planet is a conniving sneak, existing
only to wreak havoc on unsuspecting women’s hearts.’”
Debbi
laughed at my irrational words. “You don’t mean that. Someday you’ll find true
love.”
Love? No
thank you. I didn’t want a new relationship. I didn’t even want to look at a
man.
Until a
Norse god walked out of my neighbor’s home.
Tall.
Tan. Fit. Gorgeous.
A
modern-day Thor was visiting Frank, my middle-aged neighbor? I looked away from
the enticing vision and repeated my “all males are evil” mantra.
A few
days later Frank stopped by while I weeded the lawn. “Hey Jeanie, I’m letting
the neighbors know my buddy is staying with me for a while. He works night
shift. He’s a super guy.” OK, Thor was a super guy staying with Frank. Fine. It
had nothing to do with me.
The next
day I glanced out my bedroom window and spotted Thor standing next to a black
pick-up. He looked up and down the empty street, then hopped into the truck bed.
What was this guy up to? Thor removed his shirt and stretched out to nap in the
summer sun. His muscles seemed to reflect the light. I stared open-mouthed. Whoa,
did this guy pose for romance book covers? Yeesh.
I
dragged my hormones away from the window and practiced my man-hating mantra.
Perhaps a bit overboard since this guy was way out of my league.
Still,
there was no harm in looking. Spying on Thor’s afternoon tanning sessions became
a daily ritual. I’d climb onto my mattress and peer out the small rectangular transom
window above my bed.
After a
week, guilt forced me to stop. I established Commandment Number Eleven:
Thou
shalt not ogle thy neighbor’s guest.
A round of deep house cleaning would take
my mind . . . and hormones . . . off
my neighbor’s virile friend. While Patty napped I threw on a ragged sundress
and pushed my hair into a messy ponytail. No sense putting in contacts or
using make-up.
An hour
of scrubbing later, I grabbed the window cleaner and headed toward the bedroom.
“Just to tidy up,” I told myself, “not to peek at Thor.” Sure. Even I didn’t
believe myself. But Thor wasn’t in his usual spot. A knock on the door
interrupted my spying attempt.
Thor
stood at the door. Had he spotted me ogling him? Fresh sweat beaded my upper
lip. I wiped it with a sudsy glove and stammered, “Oh. Yes. Hi, um . . .”
When I fell
silent, Thor gave me a shy, easy smile. Wow, this guy put toothpaste commercial
actors to shame. “Hi, I’m Jake.” He pointed over his shoulder at my neighbor’s
house. “I’m staying with Frank.”
“Uh,
that’s nice.” I inwardly cringed at my inane response.
“Frank talks
about what a nice lady you are.”
“Um . .
. thanks,” I said.
He looked
down for a moment, lifted his head, and blurted, “Would you maybe go out with
me sometime?”
I stared
into his electric blue eyes. It felt
like I’d touched a high voltage line. I
glanced at his wide shoulders. Too tempting. I lowered my eyes. Bad move. His
shorts revealed his long muscular legs. I blinked hard and admitted, “Look, I
just ended a bad marriage. I’m not interested in dating.”
Thor—Jake—blew
out a relieved sigh. “Same here. My girlfriend and I broke up last month. I’m
not ready for a relationship. I hoped we could go to the movies or something.
Just friends.”
“I’ll go
out with you if my babysitter is available. But remember, just friendship.
Nothing more.”
Jake lit
up like a Christmas tree in Times Square. “Great! Here’s my number. Call
whenever it’s convenient for you.” He waved goodbye. I closed the door and
wondered why such an attractive man would invite me out. A glance in the mirror
revealed my full bedraggled glory.
I looked like a sweat-doused monkey in
rubber gloves. Yep, his line about “just
friends” explained the invitation.
That
weekend Jake treated me to a movie and dinner even though it wasn’t a date. “Hey,
I appreciate you going out with me. I’m glad to pay,” he said.
Despite
his handsome appearance, Jake was endearingly humble. We talked non-stop. During dinner Jake said, “You’ve only eaten a
few bites. Is the food OK?”
“It’s
great. I’ll take it home in a doggie-bag.” Paying the sitter would bite into my
limited budget. My leftovers would provide three delectable meals for Patty.
Since I wasn’t eating much, Jake politely stopped eating too.
He drove
me home and I invited him in. “Patty’s been asleep for an hour,” the sitter
said. She grabbed her pay and left. Patty awoke just as Jake and I sat down on
the couch. I walked her out and warned Jake, “Don’t be offended. Patty shies
away from men.”
Patty
pulled her tiny hand from mine and toddled straight to Jake. He patted the sofa
and asked, “Want to sit with us?” She held up her arms. I froze, shocked.
Jake scooped
up Patty and sat her on the couch. She snuggled against him. Jake grinned at me
and patted the cushion again. “Are you joining us?”
We spent
the evening chatting and laughing. When Patty grew sleepy I tucked her in bed
and returned to Jake. “I had a great time tonight.”
“Me too,”
he said.
I
scooted closer. “Just to remind you. I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Me neither.”
He laid his arm across the back of the sofa.
I leaned
toward him, “Just friends.”
He
brushed my cheek softly with his thumb. “Friends.”
We gazed
into each other others eyes. He cupped my face like precious porcelain as I
lifted it toward his. Our lips met for a heartbeat of eternity.
The next
day Jake knocked at the door, his arms laden with bags. “You seemed to like the
restaurant’s food last night. I wondered why you didn’t eat much. When you
tucked Patty in I checked your fridge.” His gentle kiss eased my embarrassment
over the empty refrigerator.
Jake
spent the next months proving his trustworthiness. His honesty, generosity, and
love silenced my man-hating mantra. When Jake proposed the following year, I
don’t know who was more ecstatic, me or Patty.
After thirty-three
years of friendship, love--and unabashed ogling--I still thank God that “Thor”
came to my door.
 |
| Jake, Jeanie, and Patty's son |
