Perfect Match (23 page)

“
Even you, as the father of that teenage daughter,
wouldn’t allow her to get away with saying, ‘I’m not doing my homework tonight,
I’m going to let God do all of it,’ now would you
?”

“You make it sound so simple, Ramona.”

“
It is simple, Roscoe. Talk to God. Trust God to answer.
Search for His and Her will. In the meantime do your homework in those matters
that speak to your heart
.” A brief pause. “
God isn’t trying to make
things complicated for any of us.
”

He exhaled deeply.

“
You’re still concerned about Selena, aren’t you
?”

“Yes, I am, greatly.”

“
I had a dream about you on Sunday night. We had a full
congregation except for the seat where Selena usually sits. It was empty. You
were sitting in the middle of the congregation. One of the ushers interrupted
the service saying, ‘Selena is outside. She has lost something. Do we have a
volunteer who will help her?’ At that point in my dream you, Roscoe, stood up
and said, ‘I will.’ In the next segment of my dream, you, Selena, and her
mother were seated on the front row. Selena was smiling as she turned to the
congregation and said, ‘Roscoe helped me find it.’ And that was the end of my
dream. When I awoke, I had the most peaceful feeling
.”

“So…what am I supposed to get from that?”

“
I have no idea, Roscoe. I just thought it was an
interesting dream and it left me with a good feeling. Look, I’m not into
dreams. I’ll leave that to the experts. To me dreams are sort of like random
thoughts, brainstorms, impulses…stuff like that. We’re still trying to figure
out the meaning of dreams in the Bible, although we know God was in the middle
of some of them. Maybe the lesson is that there are no areas of our lives that
are off limits to God, including such basics as our heart beats, our breathing,
our thinking, and even our dreams. So listen carefully to everything
.”

Five seconds ticked by, ten, fifteen…

“
Roscoe, are you still there
?” There was a second
chuckle in the background.

“Yes, I’m still here…thinking. I thought I heard a man’s
laughter in the background. Am I interrupting…anything?”

Ramona’s sensuous laughter wafted through the phone. “
No.
That was my boyfriend chuckling at my new T-shirt. He didn’t realize I was
still on the phone. I wish you could join us for a three-way…conversation,
coffee, and cake. He’s got the extra bedroom, so you’d have to take the sofa.
”

Roscoe chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to tough it out in this
luxurious hospital bed and breakfast combo.”

“
My boyfriend, Rev. Daniel Landry, and I will include you
in our prayers tonight. I hope I helped
.”

“You did. You’ve given me something to think about. Thank
you again for being…such an unusual and understanding person. I’ll let you know
how your advice works.”

After their call ended, Roscoe sat in the stillness of his
room thinking about a clutter of things bounding around in his head. His door
was closed. The nurses wouldn’t be around for another hour or so. His prayer
was a whisper:

God, according to your preacher-woman Ramona, I guess you
already know everything about me, so I won’t bore you with the details or
defend anything I’ve ever done. You know me, but I really don’t know much about
you. Ramona said you liked things simple. That’s fine with me because I’m
confused over everything.

After going through all my thoughts, I’ve decided there
is one thing I would like for you to do more than anything else. Please make or
let Selena get well, so she can live a long life, write novels, and enjoy her
friends. She is a very interesting young woman. She’s already done so much more
with her life than I did with mine at her age. You know how I squandered the
years you gave me.

In the back of my mind there are other things that I’d
like to ask of you, but they all take second place to my prayer for Selena.
Please let Selena get well and have a good life. I’m going to leave you with my
prayer and let you decide what you’re going to do. Ramona said in the meantime
I should do my homework in those matters that speak to my heart. That’s what
I’m going to do, and I’ll leave the rest to you. Maybe I can be worthy of being
your partner someday. Amen.

The hour was past midnight, but Roscoe began his homework.

Thursday

After five days of intense staff training in the New York
office, Madison was anxious for her flight to land at the Asheville Regional
Airport. Her nerves were frayed from the bumpy flight, but she was looking
forward to catching up with things in the office, before her date for the
evening.

After being vetted by Janice Smithfield, Wilson Seymour was
finally allowed to call Madison on her cell. Wilson had seen Madison’s business
interview on TV. He’d been persistent, but charming. Janice had explained that
Wilson had been involved with a messy divorce a few years back, but other than
that the talk around town was that a number of professional women had dated
him. Janice had found a photo of Wilson in a business magazine, and emailed it
to her. Madison nodded approval when it displayed on her cell phone.

She had enjoyed talking with him from the start. Their
evening conversations had been lighthearted, but still centered around business
topics, which Madison thoroughly enjoyed. The more she learned about business
in general, the more confident she felt about her job. Wilson owned a
successful clothing store in downtown Asheville that catered to pricey
customers. He also was known to bump elbows with the movers and shakers in the business
community.

Once at her desk, she zipped through correspondence, phone
messages, and met with Janice to set a zillion things in motion over the next
several days. Her trip to Hong Kong was looming on the calendar in a few days.

By 5:40 p.m. she was soaking, and showering in her own
bathroom in her fresh-scented small apartment. As she finished dressing, she
thought traveling to other cities can be exciting, but there’s no place like
home.

After debating between skirts or pantsuits, she decided on a
belted blue floral skirt with earth tone cotton top, and light weight linen
jacket. Around her neck she would drape a pale blue scarf.

Since Wilson was fifteen minutes late, she had her
over-the-shoulder parchment-white leather bag ready to go, when her doorbell
rang. She set the lock on her door and they headed down the steps for his car,
a shiny long black BMW. Before Wilson could get the passenger door open,
Madison’s downstairs neighbor, Mrs. Swenson, stepped out her front door, waving
her cane, saying, “Madison, wait a minute, wait a minute. Am I gonna have to
arrest this boyfriend’s ass before the night’s over?”

Madison laughed. “I hope not.”

“Because if I do, I may as well call the po-leese right
now.” She poked the air with her cane.

“Now don’t you worry Mrs. Swenson. Everything will be fine.
I’d stop and chat but we’re late.”

Wilson was whispering, “get in, get in,” as he nudged
Madison into his luxury car with white leather seats. He hurried around the
back of the car, getting in the driver’s side, and locking the car immediately.
“What the hell was that all about?”

“You don’t want to know and there isn’t time enough to tell
you.”

As he was backing out of the parking space and driving
toward the main entrance to the complex, he asked, “Who the hell was that old
woman?”

“One of the nicest neighbors I’ve ever had.”

He shook his head. “She’s black isn’t she?”

“Looks that way to me.”

“How many you got in your…neighborhood?” He gestured with
his hand.

“What…women or blacks?”

“Blacks.” Said with a snap.

Madison thought a split-second before responding. “The
neighborhood is about twenty-seven percent black, forty percent white, and
thirty-three percent Hispanic.”

“Humph! That figures. The damn Mexicans are the next group
taking over everything.”

Madison tilted her head at him and said, “Yes, and I’m one
of them.”

His head jerked around. His laugh was jittery at best. “Uh,
oh. Guess I goofed.”

“A very big goof, Wilson. You only get one with me.”

“Look, I’m…I made a mistake.” His right hand reached over
and touched her bare knee.

Her left hand grabbed his wrist, pushing his hand away. “I
haven’t given you permission to touch me, Wilson. Keep both your hands on the
wheel.”

The evening was becoming very unsettled for him.

And for Madison. She thought, the man on the phone, and the
one driving the car are
not
the same man.

Madison asked, “You’re still okay with stopping by to visit
my daughter in the hospital?”

“Yeah, sure. But we can’t waste any time or we’ll be late
for our reservations.”

“So far you’re the only one who has been late…fifteen
minutes.”

He snapped, “I had to call Sam and Joe and decide on our
T-time for golf this weekend. We had to get that settled no later than today.”

Wilson had tested his fancy GPS to get to Cobalt Medical
Center. He glided into a parking space, and they hurried for the hospital
entrance, Madison not waiting for Wilson to open her door. Who needs it? She
thought.

Madison and Wilson entered the “up” elevator, as the doors
were opening and the “down” elevator beside them was unloading. She barely
caught a glimpse of the man powering his wheelchair down the hall. A brief
flash of familiarity hit her, but it was faint. A guy in front of the elevator
was pushing buttons. She called out, “Fourth floor, please.”

The man in the wheelchair let the chair coast, while he
listened to his memories trying to recognize the female voice that he’d
partially heard mixed with the clamor of other voices and sounds. Don’t quite
recognize it, he thought. Must be my tired mind playing tricks on me.

Selena smiled at the sight of Madison entering her room.
“Hi, Mom, I’m so glad to see you.”

“Hi Sweetheart, glad to see you too.” She stepped back,
making Wilson visible. “Selena, this is Wilson Seymour, a business acquaintance
of mine. He’s taking me to dinner.” Madison strained a smile.

Selena nodded and said, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Seymour.”

“Ahh, just call me Wilson, Seleenie. So you’re feeling a
little sicko, as I understand.” He rubbed his palms together, as if he were
going to fix everything.

Selena shrugged. “A little.” She cut a slanted glance at her
mom.

Wilson continued, “Your mom tells me you’ve been writing a
book or something. What’s it about?” He glanced at his watch.

Selena perked up at the mention of her book. “It’s a romance
novel.”

Wilson sniggered, “Oh, well, I wouldn’t be interested in any
of that chick-lit stuff.”

Madison said, “It’s not—”

Wilson cut her off. “I wrote a story one time, when I was in
the third grade. It was about my pet hamster. His name was Willy. I still miss
him. Anyway, my teacher said it was the best story she’d ever read by a third
grader.” He nodded; chin jutting toward Selena and Madison. “Of course I was
really considered an advanced student, you know jumped a grade.” He glanced at
his watch.

Madison broke in. “Selena, have you gotten over your last
treatment?”

She nodded. “Almost, but much slower than all the—”

Wilson interrupted again. “Yeah, your mother said you were
having a little problem with a kidney. Let me give you some advice directly
from my grandmother: drink plenty of water. drink lots of water, she always
preached. Bet if you drink more water you’ll be out of the hospital by tomorrow
afternoon.” His plastic smile stretched across his too-white teeth. “Always
worked for me.” Plastic smile disappeared, as he studied his watch again. He
fidgeted with his tie.

After Wilson hijacked the conversation a few more times,
Madison grew tense, and Selena grew weary. “Mom, if you don’t mind, I think
I’ll try to sleep. I’m getting tired.”

“I understand. We’ll leave now.” They hugged, while Wilson
moved toward the door.

“Have a nice time, Mom.”

“Okay. Call me when you feel like it.”

Wilson piped up, “Don’t forget what I said about drinking
more water.” He gave two thumbs up. “Nice meeting you Seleenie.” Plastic smile
appeared again.

“Sure thing, Willy.” She turned her head toward the wall,
until she heard her door click closed. She sat up shaking her head in
wonderment, with one thought; my mom needs a brain transplant worse than I need
a kidney transplant.

Madison was ready to bolt the instant they left the
hospital, but decided to remain patient, although she didn’t talk much on the
way to dinner. The restaurant was known to be one of the best in Asheville,
catering to an upper crust clientele. Clean white table cloths, with flickering
candle light on each table. Wilson had reserved a small quiet booth. He was
greeted warmly by the restaurant staff. He beamed, as he adjusted his tie.

Once seated, Madison turned her wine glass upside down,
leaving her water glass. She studied the menu, and quickly decided on Chicken
Enchiladas, with a side of Mexican Rice, and a guacamole salad. Wilson chose
the traditional steak and baked potato, and salad.

They made small talk. Very small talk.

With his mouth full, he said, “You haven’t talked much since
leaving that god-awful hospital.”

“The food has been more interesting than the conversation.”

The meaning seemed lost on him. “You know, I still wish you
hadn’t worn that outfit tonight.”

Madison looked across the table. “Why?”

“Clashes with my new tie. Do you think people have noticed?”

“Sure do. Saw a couple women looking at you earlier. They
looked like they were about to barf.”