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| Linda Rondeau |
My guest author today, Linda Rondeau, asks the piercing title question and I'm sure you'll enjoy reading her answer.
He opened his Christmas gifts first, then dancing with anticipation
handed me my present. The gift bag was securely closed with a ridge of
scotch-tape, evidence of his own hand in this artful presentation. I exercised
all the pre-opening rituals: gently stroking the outside, carefully shaking it
near the ear, and complimenting the packaging, as well as the obligatory,
“Thank you, Honey.” I even ventured a few guesses.
“Jewelry?”
“No.”
“Well, judging by the shape, it’s probably not candy.”
“You’re right. It’s not candy.”
“Pajamas! Silk, right?”
“No. It’s not pajamas, but you’re getting closer. Go ahead. Open it.”
In an instant, I popped
the row of scotch tape and looked inside the satiny red wrapping bag. I froze
in disbelief as I stared at what my husband deemed the perfect gift—A SHOWER
MASSAGE! I was thoroughly convinced the romance was more than dead. It was
beyond resuscitation. In fact, it was stone cold.
What more should I expect?
After all, we’ve been married over twenty-five years. Can romance exist after
fifty?
Yes! Romance needn’t die just
because our hair had turned gray and our body dimensions had expanded. Didn’t
he see me as attractive anymore?
“For me?” I feigned
pleasure.
“Well, it’s really for the both of us. That’s why I spent a little
extra.”
Since we bought a video
camera as a mutual Christmas present to each other, we set a personal gift
limit of $25. He went over the top to $30.
“You shouldn’t have,” I
said honestly.
“I know you said you wanted jewelry. Surprised?”
“Oh, yes. I’m speechless!”
At some point over the
past couple decades, the Prince Charming I married went through a
metamorphosis. So much so, I dreaded the future. Can I really stand
twenty-five more years of this? The handsome suitor who used to buy me
Russell Stover Chocolates had now emerged an aged athlete peddling Mr. Coffee.
When had practicality replaced sentimentality? I wanted to tell Joe DiMaggio to
take a hike, find my misplaced fairy godmother, and tell her to bring back
Prince Charming.
Storybook romances for the
middle aged did not exist. Who was I kidding? God, I prayed silently, help
me remember why I’m still married to this man. Are we together because
divorce is a sin, or is there something more?
Joe DiMaggio was waiting for my reaction. I muttered a half-hearted,
“Gee. Thank you.”
“Pour yourself another cup
of coffee and relax while I get the shower massage ready for you.” He took the
monstrosity from the bag; and with his toolbox in hand, bounded up the steps
like a schoolboy at recess.
The sounds of contented
whistling could be heard down stairs while I stared into my coffee hoping to
find some definition of middle-aged wedded bliss. I stewed in my
disappointment. “A shower massage. Ump!” I felt like Grumpy while he played the
part of Happy.
“All set,” he beamed. “You first! After all, it is your present.”
“That it is.” I trudged to
the upstairs bathroom, took off my robe, and stepped into the wide spread
spray. To my pleasant surprise, the steamy mist enveloped my senses. I felt as
if I had just entered a sauna.
Well, now. This is nice. I took the showerhead in
hand and experimented with the dial. Suddenly, reams of pulsating gushes hit my
arthritic joints. I let my mind drift, imagining I was under a waterfall in
Tahiti. Hey, I thought. This is not bad. Not bad at all.
Maybe he wasn’t so far off
the mark after all, I mused.
When there was no more hot
water, I reluctantly turned the shower off, towel-dried, put on my bathrobe,
and wandered downstairs.
Joe DiMaggio was anxiously
awaiting the umpire’s verdict. “Well?” He looked like an innocent child who had
just given his mother a wilted dandelion, waiting for a hug of gratitude.
“It’s out of the ball park, Slugger. A grand slam homerun.”
He smiled his cute little
boy smile. Behind his youthful grin, I saw the beam of love in his eyes. I
recognized the faded but familiar royalty with whom I fell in love with so many
years ago. Joltin’ Joe had not completely taken over.
I lifted my heart toward
Heaven. Thank you for my mate, Lord. Prince Charming still lived inside
that paunchy but adorable man, and he knew exactly what this tired, achy body
needed.
Many waters cannot quench
love: rivers cannot wash it away (Song of songs 8:7a).
***
Linda Wood Rondeau’s highly successful Christmas Adirondack romance,
It Really IS a Wonderful Life, is available through Amazon.com, published
by Lighthouse of the Carolinas. Her first devotional book, I Prayed for Patience/God Gave Me Children is due for release on or
about December 10 by Trestle Press/Helping Hands.
Winner of the 2012 Selah Award for best first novel (The Other Side of Darkness/Harbourlight), Linda writes stories
of redemption and God’s mercies. Walk with her unforgettable characters as they
journey paths not unlike our own. Her second book, America
II: The Reformation, Trestle Press, the first in a dystopian trilogy, is a
futuristic political thriller now available in e-book on Amazon.com
and Kobo. Also with Trestle Press is her serial story, Rains of Terror which can be found on
Amazon.Com., Barnes and Noble, and Kobo or wherever e-books are sold. After a long career in human services, mother
of three and wife of one very patient man, Linda now resides in Florida where
she is active in her church and community. Visit her web site at www.lindarondeau.com.
