The Screen Whisperer

Since I was a little girl, all I had aspired to be was a wife and a mother, but RJ, my first love, had encouraged me to go to college. After several classes, I realized I loved the academic environment. The more I studied and learned new things, the more I wanted to know, the more classes I wanted to take.  When I met Charlie, I was determined to get a college degree, but he had other plans for me.

There is a good possibility that if two events had not occurred the month before my marriage, I would not have gone bonkers right before my wedding. The first event was a book, The Total Woman, presented to me by my fiancé.  It was written by a former beauty pageant winner and wealthy stay-at-home wife and mother. Her idea was simple. "Ladies, listen up. Be subservient to your husband, be a good housekeeper, good mother, support him in every way, be a sex kitten that never says "no" and he will cherish you, take care of you, and never, ever cheat on you with that bimbo at the office." 

The second event came on the heals of the first one and catapulted me over the wall of stability to a place called "I think I'm losing my mind." It was a night just like any other night, except this night there was a stranger lurking in the bushes outside my bedroom window. I was reading my instructional manual on how to treat my man, when I heard rustling noises--the Junipers were twisting and turning and out of the branches two hands appeared and began scratching the screen. Then I heard a male voice whisper, "Carol Louise," the screen whisperer said. "Carol Louise." What the heck? Who would be outside my bedroom window at two o'clock in the morning whispering my name? Oh, I don't know; maybe the same person who had done it, say, three times before in the last ten months. No matter how many times the screen whisperer and scratcher appeared at my bedroom window, it still caught me off guard and terrified me.

We needed to talk, NOW! the 2:00 a.m. visitor said. I was making a huge mistake by marrying this guy from southern Indiana. I hadn't known him long enough; he couldn't possibly love me like someone who had known me for nine years could love me. The screen whisperer and I were meant to be together; we were perfect for each other. I didn't interrupt to say "What about my skinny legs, irritating nasal voice, and ungratefulness after every thing you have done for me?" I just listened as the man outside my window listed all of my wonderful attributes. But then he said, "If you go ahead with this wedding, I will come to the church, stand in the balcony, and when the minister asks 'Who among you in the audience doesn't want these two to get married,' I will yell 'ME! I DON'T WANT HER TO MARRY HIM BECAUSE HE CAN'T LOVE HER LIKE I CAN LOVE HER!' " 

A week before the big wedding in a church with lots of people coming, my parents' living room was beginning to fill up with gifts and my beautiful white Princess dress was out of its plastic bag and hanging on a hook on my closet door ready for the big Hey-everyone-look-at-me day. My aunt, the wedding planner, had called me several times to check on the progress on my list of things to do. Everything was done except my flowers. Getting the flowers was my job, but there was just one problem: me. I couldn't bring myself to order the flowers.

Mother called Aunt Gracie and Aunt Gracie called Charlie and Charlie called me. "What wrong?" he asked. "I'm not sure I can do this," I said. Within two hours, my soon-to-be husband was at my parents' house, where I was now living. "Sorry," I said, "It's just cold feet. I'll be fine." Back to Evansville he went. Two days later, the flowers still hadn't been ordered. Mother called Aunt Gracie and Aunt Gracie called Charlie and once again the man who I was going to spend the rest of my life with, the man who loved me but wanted to change me, the man who was looking for a subservient wife was at my door. "Sorry," I said, "It's just cold feet. I'll be fine." Back to Evansville. Four days to go. If I could just keep it together for four days, I could get on with the fairy tale fantasy that had brought me to this place in the first place, and the fantasy goes like this.

Once upon a time, there was maiden, a good virginal maiden I might add, who was looking for Prince Charming. Out of all the hundreds of maidens in the maiden meadow, he would spot her, see her value, swoop her up and carry her off to the enchanted forest where...oh, you know the rest of the story.

It was Thursday, two days before the wedding. The flowers still had not been ordered. I did, however, make an attempt to order the flowers. I went to the flower shop, walked around in a daze, and then left. I got in my little Volkswagen bug, drove around the city on Interstate 465 and then headed out of town on Interstate 70.

As visions of fairy tales danced in my head, my little bug and I headed west. California maybe? No, too far. St Louis? Nah. Terre Haute? Nope! Why would anyone go to Terre Haute on purpose? As much as I wanted to, I couldn't run away. I had to come back home and face the truth and the truth was I could not marry Charlie. Later that night,  I made that fateful call that put a big DETOUR sign in the road that Charlie and I were getting ready to drive down.

Sobs, disbelief, and devastation ruled the next several days, but life went on and eventually even the memories faded to the background and then were mostly forgotten. I should say here there is more to the story. You can read all about it in another one of my books, or not. From very reliable sources (Google, Facebook) this is what I know now, forty-one years later. Within one year of breaking up with me, Charlie was married. He had two beautiful daughters. He became successful in the business world of plastics and was the president of one of the companies he worked for. He is currently married to a woman who is not the mother of his daughters and who appears, from her Facebook profile, to be much younger than him.

Once Charlie was gone for good, RJ didn't see the urgency in getting me back. In fact, he had  already spotted another maiden and was in pursuit of her when he was supposed to be in the balcony of the church where I was supposed to get married.  One day, after five years of promising his new maiden pitter patter Christmas feet, she said, "I'm outta here." That's all he needed to hear. They got married right away, had a little girl, and then became the inspiration for the movie, "War of the Roses." 

As for me, I couldn't be happier. But that's another story, and it's coming your way in "All I Have to Be is Good, Part 2" to be published spring 2017. Or you can just read about it right here in my rambling blog.