Catch And Release (Fleur de Lis) Read online

  Good questions.

  I think I have a new plan. I want to have more fun. Get out and experience more. Check Facebook and the paper for new things to do in the community. Get out of the Wahoo. Broaden my horizons. Maybe my prince is out there doing the same.

  Still looking, but not losing myself in the process.

  ***

  I sing along with local musician Wayne Toups as I put another gold fleur de lis ornament on Glinda’s enormous Christmas tree.

  Glinda is across the room decorating the buffet with a smaller tree and pine garland. She is singing along as well. With my parents living in Florida now, I started helping Glinda with her decorations a few seasons ago. As much as I love Christmas, I don’t put up a tree in my small cabin. Apartments in Bon Chance are scarce, it being mostly fishing camps and small family homes, so I had taken up residence in one of Glinda’s cabins. I pay a small monthly rent, and get free meals. It’s perfect for me.

  “Heard from your parents?” Glinda asks.

  “I talked to Mom yesterday. Noah is scheduled to be in, and Ben will be in from his twenty-eight-day stint. I’m so excited! We’ll all be together this year.”

  “I bet you are. When are you leaving?”

  “A couple of days before Christmas.”

  “That’s good. Gabriel called me as well, he’s coming in for a couple of days. He can’t stay long. He’s still trying to work and play in the band. They’re not getting enough gigs yet to completely pay the bills, so he’s doing both. Poor thing, I think he’s worn out.”

  “I bet,” I say. Gabriel had moved to Austin with his friends Bennett and Nate. The music scene was hopping there, they said, and they wanted to take advantage of it. I keep in touch with Gabriel on Facebook and enjoy seeing the pictures he posts of the three of them playing music together.

  I put the last of the ornaments on the tree and dust my hands off on my jeans.

  “You ready for some hot chocolate and porch sitting?” Glinda asks. “I’m about ready for a break myself.”

  “Sure.” I call for Sammy, who is dozing by the unlit fireplace. It wouldn’t be warm enough for a fire until the sun went down, if then. But a dog could dream, I guess.

  Sammy and I go outside, and I take a seat in one of the huge white rocking chairs that adorn the wide porch. I had given up a long time ago asking Glinda if she needed help in the kitchen. Not that she wanted my help anyway, considering my kitchen skills. I’ve been known to mess up hot chocolate. I was looking out at the calm water of the gulf when Glinda came outside to join me.

  “Here you go, dear,” Glinda says, laying the tray on the table between the two rocking chairs. The two mugs on the tray read Peace, Love, Joy, and Gumbo, and are decorated with dancing crawfish.

  I take one of the steaming mugs filled with Glinda’s own mix of hot chocolate and covered with whipped cream. I take a slow sip, closing my eyes as the warm goodness hits my tongue.

  “Wonderful as always, Aunt Glinda.”

  “I got some mix ready for you to take home. Don’t be tryin’ to make it with milk like you did the last time.”

  I grimace. Feeling adventurous last year, I decided to make hot chocolate with milk like Glinda did and ended up scorching and ruining my pan. The cabin smelled awful too.

  “I’ll leave that up to you.”

  “Good deal,” she says, sipping from her own mug. “Now, tell me all about your book and how the dating is going. Any prospects?”

  “I don’t know, Glinda,” I say, exhaling a deep breath.

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “I heard that,” I say, and she laughs.

  “What do you think about butterflies?” I ask. Butterflies have been on my mind a lot lately.

  “Well, I think they’re pretty. Don’t see them too much this time of year.”

  “That’s not what I mean! I mean the kind you feel when you meet someone. That little feeling you get in your stomach.”

  Glinda smiles. “Of course, dear. I know. Just playin’ with you. What do you think about butterflies?”

  “I don’t know, Glinda. I’m beginning to think that fluttering might be a sign that I need to run.”

  “Could be gas,” Glinda says under her breath.

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “I know, dear.” She pats my hand. “Keep going.”

  “Which do you think is better? A relationship that starts with butterflies or one that starts with stability and trust?”

  “Carly, I’m way too old to be playing around in the yard with butterflies. I think stability and trust, but that’s me. You need to find the answer for yourself.”

  “Joey doesn’t give me butterflies. He makes me smile. And we’re always honest with each other. Is that like stability and trust?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t really know. Ryder gives me butterflies.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t seen him in a few days. His being gone hasn’t made my heart grow fonder though. I just miss him. His presence, his smile, and that goofy growl sound he makes in my ear.”

  Jack still gives me butterflies. His voice on his voice mail does it. When I picture his smile or his blue eyes, I get the chills.

  “You want to know what I really think, Carly?”

  “Yes, what do you really think?”

  “I think you’re young, and beautiful, and vivacious. And I think you’re spending way too much time worrying about this. When it’s time, it will happen, and you will know.”

  I frown because that really wasn’t the answer that I wanted.

  But it was the answer I got.

  That’s it for me and questions. We sit on the porch and visit for a while longer, talking about past holidays. When I leave, Glinda sends me home with a covered plate for dinner and the hot chocolate mix. Thank God for Glinda. I would probably starve without her.

  When I get home, I sit on my porch and ponder butterflies some more. I come to the conclusion that in the beginning you should have that little flutter of excitement. That’s part of the fun. After that comes the stability and trust. Since I’m still single, I could be wrong.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tuesday, December 6

  19 Days Left

  We’re in the teens now, so I decided to start my morning with a little online research. How to flirt. I’ve never been a good flirt. I blame this mostly on the fact that I grew up with all boys, except Emily, of course. We fished, rode our bikes, and played in the mud. Flirt? I was too busy doing other things. So that, my friends, is how I missed that whole lesson.

  This is what I found.

  Top Ten Flirting Tips

  From the Links2Love Website

  1. Flirting is an attitude: a good flirt is self-confident and takes risks.

  2. Start a conversation: the best opening line is saying hi!

  3. Have fun: be playful, lighthearted, and spontaneous.

  4. Use props: props are conversation starters. Great ones? Dogs, kids, a t-shirt, or book.

  5. Be the host: instead of being passive and waiting, be the welcome committee.

  6. Make the first move: move closer to the person and say hello!

  7. Listen: you have two ears and one mouth for a reason. Everyone wants to be heard.

  8. Eye contact: make eye contact then look away. Don’t stare like a stalker.

  9. Compliment: compliment the person. Keep the compliment sincere and genuine.

  10. Smile: it’s contagious, makes you more approachable, and will draw people to you.

  I’m going to go into the Wahoo tonight to try some of them out. Apparently, I need to make more eye contact, touch more, and talk more. Talk more? After a couple of drinks, you can’t shut me up. That one is easy! At least I have some tips here. More work. Why can’t Prince Charming just ride up on his white horse and carry me away? Probably because I’d only argue with him. Can’t you see it?

  “Carly, darling. I’ve com
e to take you away,” he would say, extending a muscular arm to reach down to me from his horse. Prince Charming has to have great arms.

  “Where are we going?” I would ask, being the practical woman that I am and thinking this guy may quite possibly be a serial killer. Who dresses up like a prince and rides around on a white horse anyway? He’s probably taking me to a cave somewhere.

  He’d say, “I’m taking you away from all of your stress. I will love you and cherish you forever.”

  “And just how do I know that? You’re going to ride up here on that horse and tell me that, and I’m just supposed to believe you?” I would ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  The poor guy would probably be confused, or think there might be a woman down the road a little easier to kidnap.

  “But…” he would stammer.

  “You’re not even going to ask for my number or anything? Just ask me to ride off with you? Not even ask where I would like to go? What if I don’t like where you take me? What kind of deal is that?”

  I’m beginning to see why I’m still single.

  “Here’s the deal,” I would say. “Get yourself down off that horse. I’m scared of horses anyway. Take off the crazy prince costume and ask for my number. Then you call me and ask me out to dinner. It’s that simple.”

  I’m really not all that demanding. I don’t want the sun and moon. I don’t want one hundred texts a day. What I do want is respect. I want a guy who calls when he says he’s going to. I want a guy I can trust, who won’t let me down. A guy I can lean on when I get tired of standing on my own.

  Why can’t I say to Jack, or Ryder, what I would say to Charming?

  Like Ryder always says, “If you don’t ask, the answer is always no.”

  But isn’t no answer an answer too?

  ***

  Armyguy is being a persistent little thing. He sent me a message to have a good morning. I responded,

  Thank you, and same to you.

  He said he was bored, that he didn’t have anything to do. Oh really? He’s bored with nothing to do, but he wanted to message me? Nice.

  I wasn’t quite sure what to tell him. So I said nothing.

  He messaged me online later.

  Armyguy: How u doin’?

  Me: All right…and u?

  Armyguy: Okay i guess.

  Me: Just okay? Y?

  Armyguy: ’Cause i haven’t got anyone.

  Me: Aww.

  Armyguy: I am used to it.

  Me: Me too.

  Armyguy: Sorry.

  Me: There’s nothing to be sorry for.

  He didn’t respond to that last statement. Maybe I was a little rough, but I’m not unhappy about being single. Yes, I’m looking for a man, but it’s not because I’m lonely. Okay, maybe I am a little. I admit it. But not so lonely that it bothers me. Yes, I feel a twinge every now and then when I wake up and would like for someone to be there. When I stop and think about Armyguy, I wonder if he is pursuing me because he likes me for me, even though he hasn’t had time to really get to know me, or because he’s lonely or bored.

  I haven’t been on a date since Armyguy. That was weeks ago. This is not how it works on Sex and the City. All they do is go out and drink, and they have men falling all over them. If men fall on me, it’s because they’re clumsy or drunk. Or both. Life is not an HBO show though. This is real life, and I want a real connection with someone. Just because I’m looking for a man before Christmas doesn’t mean that I’m going to settle either. Not only do I want a real good man, I want the right real good man. I know he’s out there. I just have to find him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wednesday, December 7

  18 Days Left

  When I walk into the Wahoo today, I see Sam, a friend of mine, so I go say hi. As I walk up, I notice Ryder sitting next to him. I swear he’s like a chameleon sometimes because I didn’t see him at first.

  He smiles at me real big. I love his smile. I wrap my arms around him from behind and I give him a big hug. He kisses me on the cheek.

  “I’ve missed you,” I tell him as I sit down. “Where have you been?”

  “Working and hiding.” Hiding? I let that go. For now. He shows me his newest poem. I read it, and it’s about overcoming obstacles and realizing you’re in love with your best friend. Hmmm. Is he in love with someone? Is that where he’s been hiding?

  I look at him, and he’s looking down at his phone, frowning. If he were in love with someone, would he be frowning at his phone? I would hope not.

  “I’m going to play one more game of pool, then I’m going to go,” he says.

  “You were leaving thirty minutes ago. You were all down until she came in,” Sam says, raising an eyebrow at Ryder.

  She would be me, of course. I wonder what that means. Ryder tells me that I’m the second person to tell him that he has inspired them. Ryder is the reason that I’m writing again now. We were sitting at the bar a few months ago, and he showed me some poetry he had written. From that, I had that urge to pick up a pen again. I wrote him a poem in response, a really bad one, and I’ve been playing around with words again.

  “I’m worried about you,” I tell Ryder as he grabs his keys to go. It’s not just the frowns from tonight. It’s the disappearing act.

  “Why?”

  “You don’t seem happy.”

  “I haven’t been happy in a long time.”

  “You need to find something that makes you happy.”

  He says nothing, but smiles and kisses my cheek, then leaves.

  Damn, the cowboy rides away again. I text him later and tell him that if he needs to talk or just hang out with someone and act goofy, that I’m here.

  No response. But I didn’t expect one. Two steps forward. Three steps back.

  ***

  After Ryder leaves, I am sitting at the bar by myself and enjoying the solitude when a guy comes over and invites me to come sit with him and his two friends. The three come in often, I’ve seen them and waited on them as a bartender, and they have always been as polite as three single guys will be in a bar. I think why not and go join them.

  Turns out the two older guys are best friends, and the younger guy, Glenn, is the son to one. I sit with them, and the son and I really start to hit it off. He’s former military, and with Noah being a Marine, that’s always a bonus for me. I know what those guys go through, and I have a soft spot for a man who will serve his country. We talk about the places he’s traveled. We also talk about one of our favorite places: New Orleans.

  The problem with this one? I think the bartender, Crystal, likes him. I like her and consider her a friend. I’ll have to tread carefully with this one, if I choose to tread at all.

  Crystal is in the bar—she’s worked the day shift and is hanging out after, like most of us do. I excuse myself from my new friends and go sit with Morgan for a bit. When I move, Crystal goes and sits with Glenn, the cute military recruiter. Yep, she likes him. Glenn then moves to come sit beside me. She moves again to sit beside him. This is gradual, not like musical chairs.

  I have an actual, possible Prince Charming next to me, who tells me flat out that he’s ready to settle down with someone and asks for my phone number. And I don’t want to do anything about it because Crystal saw him first.

  Further proof of my karma. Or is it bad timing?

  Ryder is not a bad guy. He’s just not at a place where he is ready for a commitment, and he’s self-aware enough and honest enough to admit it. Either way, he’s out of my funnel. There’s no room in my funnel for Mr. Not Ready to Commit.

  Actually, there is, because it’s empty, but we’re not going to talk about that. It’s a funnel full of possibility right now. And tomorrow the search begins again to fill it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thursday, December 8

  17 Days Left

  I’m getting worried. The funnel is still empty, and I have no big prospects. Nothing major is happening and I’m getting impatient. Patience ha
s never been a virtue I possess.

  Oh well.

  Maybe if my Prince Charming can put up with whether or not I want to be rescued, then maybe he can put up with my sarcastic self. Actually, my PC would probably argue with me and be just as sarcastic. He’d challenge me and give me a run for my money. Like Ryder. Maybe that’s why I find him so attractive.

  Maybe I should put “Must Love Sarcasm” as my new dating profile headline instead of “Must Love Music.” Probably not. Anyway, time is ticking so I need to get busy…

  ***

  Progress! I have a date tonight! His name is Tate and, unfortunately, I’m already irritated with him. It’s not really his fault. He can’t hear on the phone so I keep having to repeat everything. Especially directions. In this world of GPS, I really can’t figure this one out. The directions are also very simple. There’s only one highway in this town, so getting lost takes effort. The directions were to take the main highway and follow it until the middle of town. There aren’t that many restaurants in town. It’s on the left, because all businesses are on the left. Simple, right? I’m directionally challenged, and it seems easy enough for me.

  I talk to him as he drives.

  “Do I turn on Bayview?” he asks.

  “No, keep driving.”

  “Do I turn on St. Landry?”

  “No, keep driving. It’s on the left. You will see it.”

  I do take some responsibility for the directions thing. I changed the location of the date because my guys from the Wahoo were playing in a pool tournament and wanted me to come cheer them on. This restaurant was a little closer than the other one that was across the bridge.