Wishing for Wonderful (Serendipity #3)(3)

Eleanor pondered a moment then said, “Yes, yes, I remember Bethany. Tall, blonde hair, very pretty. Small world isn’t it? The two of you married.”

“Were,” John corrected. “Unfortunately Bethany passed away nine years ago. Automobile accident, terrible thing…”

“How awful.” Eleanor sighed and the sigh was not feigned, for she too knew the pain of such a loss. “My Raymond passed on eleven years ago. Colon cancer.”

John was not one to take joy in another’s suffering, but at that moment it was all he could do to keep from smiling. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”

Eleanor nodded and off they went.

They passed by the crowded dinner and turned into a quaint little luncheonette with white tablecloths and a sprig of flowers on every table. Instead of sitting opposite one another they sat corner to corner, close enough for their knees to touch. After a short time of telling about the tragedies they’d experienced, they moved on to talking about old times, the friends who’d moved away and those who were still in town. When they spoke of their senior prom, Eleanor’s eyes sparkled as they hadn’t for more than thirty years.

“That white orchid you gave me,” she said wistfully, “was the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

Lingering over two cups of coffee and a shared slice of chocolate cake, they remained there for almost three hours. When the dinner crowd began to drift in, Eleanor suggested they leave.

“Not unless you promise to meet me for lunch tomorrow,” John said with a grin.

Of course Eleanor said yes.

They met for lunch not once but several times. Lunch, it seemed was innocent enough, not disloyal to a departed spouse. But a yearning inside the heart is something that can’t be denied, be it afternoon, evening or first rays of dawn.

On the second lunch date, John reached across the table and took Eleanor’s hand in his.

“I can’t believe it’s been thirty years,” he said. “You don’t look a day older than you did in high school.”

“Oh, go on,” Eleanor said, laughing. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“No,” John insisted, “it’s true.”

The words he spoke were honest for that was how John saw Eleanor. He was blind to the tiny lines that crinkled her eyes and the silver threads peppering her hair. The same was true for Eleanor; when she looked at John she could almost imagine him still wearing his school sweater.

Each day their lunch date ran longer and longer. Then when it bumped up against the supper hour, John suggested a dinner date for Friday evening.

On Fridays Mario’s had music and a small parquet floor for dancing. John called ahead for a reservation and asked for a table in the far corner of the room. A spot where the lights were low and the distractions few. That evening the years they’d been apart faded into nothingness and as they moved to the rhythmic beat of a slow fox trot, he bent and touched his mouth to hers. The magic was still there. At the very same moment they both felt a jolt pass through their heart.





As for me, well, I didn’t have to lift a finger on this match. All I did was step back and let love take its course. Eleanor and John were matched over forty years ago and watching them now was like watching a crocus spring forth from the snow-covered ground. Before three months had gone by they were seeing each other every evening, and after six months they were talking marriage.

You’d like to think a relationship such as this would be nothing short of wonderful, but remember even a rose has thorns.

Although Ray Junior is married and has a life of his own, he bristles at the mere mention of Eleanor dating.

“A woman your age,” he says. “Are you out of your mind?”

Like so many young people, Ray fails to realize that love knows no age. Inside of every heart there is a tiny spot that remains forever young. That’s the spot where love grows, where hope never dies and miracles can still happen. I’ve been around for more centuries than you can count, and not once have I encountered a person too old to love. Too hard hearted perhaps, but never too old.

A being doesn’t have to be all knowing to realize Ray Junior is going to present a challenge for Eleanor and John, but I’ve looked into the future and I can tell you right now he isn’t their biggest problem. Lindsay Gray is.





Cupid

Here’s the Problem





Lindsay was living in Manhattan for almost two years when she bypassed the second perfect match I gave her. After she ignored the English major, I figured I’d go with a more business-minded type, so on seven different occasions I arranged for her to be in the elevator with Christopher Roberts, the financial planner in apartment 7B. He was good to go. I could tell by the way he watched her from the back and offered to carry her groceries to the door.

“No, thanks,” she said, “I’m okay with it.”

Lindsay’s tough to read. I can never tell if the spark is there or not, so I keep watching. The second time they meet, she gives him a big smile and he asks if she’s new in the building.

This time she doesn’t turn her back and it looks like she’s picking up on his lead.

“No,” she says, “I’ve been here for two years.”

The third time they meet, the elevator stops on three and he gets out when she does.