This is just a little fluffy piece to pass the time until our next movie and the long-hoped-for-announcement of renewal. The scene takes place after Oliver returns Shane home from Ramon's Bistro at the end of The Road Less Traveled. It could follow the piece I wrote entitled Family but it could occur without that ever taking place. I hope it brings a smile to your face. The characters belong to the gifted Martha Williamson.
When Shane McInerney first encountered this guy who couldn't order a cup of coffee from a coffee cart, she would have laughingly said that he was the last man on earth that she would ever date. As it turns out, he probably will be the last man that she will date. Because in dating Oliver O'Toole, she found "everything she never knew she wanted."
Oliver and Shane just shared one of those evenings that people in relationships remember and even treasure. Shane needed to make a phone call to her estranged sister. She needed an extra measure of courage and mercy. Oliver not only stood by her side but also was truly everything and more than she could ask for in that moment. He was encouraging and patient and loving and tender.
· For Oliver and Shane the night that began with a phone call of reconciliation moved to an evening of celebration. The two who were just beginning their dating journey were asked to stand beside their closest friends as best man and maid of honor in their upcoming wedding. The Greeks would have said that on this night all forms of love sounded them: eros, philia, storge and agape. Oliver was the man who first pointed out these four types of love to Shane. It was perhaps a bit too dry and academic a conversation for a Valentine's dinner. However, actually experiencing romantic love, brotherly love (the bond between friends), familial love, and God's love with Oliver by her side had become on her life's greatest joys.
This man who loves words was now the one from whom a simple good night kiss could now make her drop her house keys. At least it did on this beautiful late summer night. The key ring fell from the usually nimble fingers only to have it retrieved by the same man who once struggled to order coffee. He calmly unlocked and opened the door before returning the keys to their rightful owner and saying goodnight again.
As had become Oliver's custom when returning Shane to her house, he waited at the top of the steps until he heard the click of the lock and believed her safely inside. Waiting for the sound of the turned key was Oliver's way of taking care of her, making certain that she was secure, even when he was leaving her.
Shane had her own custom. After she locked the door, she leaned against it until she heard his car drive away. It was as if for just a few more seconds they were still together. Tonight, she lingered longer lost in thoughts of the day – in each image was Oliver. She thought about the way he looked tonight – wearing white shirt, no tie, navy jacket – laughing with Norman and Rita – cutting his eyes to meet hers and share the moment with her. She loved the way he frequently looked to her when he laughed now. It was as if sharing the moment with her solidified his joy. She drifted into the memory of the smell of his aftershave and feel of his face next to hers. In spite of the restraint she tried to muster, she was losing herself in the thought of a time when their evening would not end with him driving away. The buzz of her cell phone in her bag interrupted this fog laced with thoughts of the future.
"Who?" she asked, as she fished the phone from her bag.
"Becky!" Shane said. "What a nice surprise!"
Shane placed her keys in the tray on the table in the small foyer and made her way to her bedroom as Becky continued.
"Hey Shaney, I hope I'm not calling too late," said Becky.
"No, no, no. But is everything all right? It's almost – almost midnight in D.C," said Shane, considering the time differences.
"Actually it is 11:50 in D.C. but it is 8:50 in Seattle and that is where I am. Well, at least until I fly out tomorrow," said Becky.
"USPS business?" asked Shane.
"Yes, I was supposed to fly out tonight and things ran late so I wound up with an unplanned night on the west coast," said Becky.
"Why is Seattle always needing you? Why can't we need you here in Denver sometime?" asked Shane.
"I don't know. I'll see if I can't find a reason for Denver to need me. How are things in Denver?" Becky asked.
"I actually love it here," said Shane.
"That wouldn't have anything to do with a certain mail recovery expert named Oliver O'Toole?" asked Becky.
"Probably," laughed Shane. "How is married life?"
"It's great when we are in the same place at the same time. He flew to London yesterday but I am going to join him for two weeks as soon as I'm finished here. I can't wait. But that's enough about me. You text me that you are dating Oliver and then nothing. I get nothing else. Spill it girl," said Becky.
Shane laid her handbag on the cedar chest at the foot of her bed, slipped off her coat, kicked off her heals, and fell across her bed as they continued to talk.
"Well, he asked me to go steady," said Shane with glee.
"You're kidding right? You're teasing me for asking you for the details like some schoolgirl at a pajama party," Becky replied.
"No. I'm serious," said Shane, the tone of her voice going from a star-struck schoolgirl to the warm tones of a woman in love.
"He asked you to go steady?" repeated Becky.
Shane could sense her friend smiling at her with every word.
"Yes," said Shane.
"And that means?" said Becky.
"We are no longer just-friends. I only…I mean…we only see each other," said Shane.
Shane paused. The phrase "I only dance with him" went through Shane's mind. But that was too personal; too intimate a moment to share even with your best friend from D.C. "I only dance with you" were words she spoke to Oliver one night when her heart was breaking. Those were words he remembered and longed to believe were true until he finally gained the courage to believe. Now they were a promise between each other, a phrase of commitment. Those words were one of the many ways they said "I love you" without saying "I love you." They were words just between the two them.
"Got it. Well how is going steady – going?" asked Becky.
"It's steady like he is," replied Shane.
Perhaps it was how high emotions had run that day, or the false anonymity of speaking over the phone, or sheer fatigue, or the built up desire to tell someone how she felt about Oliver, but Shane found herself more than willing to "spill it" as Becky said.
"We've only been dating a few weeks," said Shane. "And you know he is very cautious so we are taking things slowly. After all fools rush in where angels fear to tread."
"That sounds like something Oliver would say," said Becky.
"Uhm, it does. Doesn't it," said Shane.
"What is it like to date the…, let's see how did you describe him once – charming in an old-fashioned way, Mr. O'Toole?" Becky asked. "Is it what you expected?"
"You know we've worked together for a while and he lives with this certain moral consistency. He is a man of faith – who – lives his faith. You might say it's even spilled over on me. The same man who sings in the choir and prays – well, it's the same man who greets me with coffee in the morning, goes the extra mile to deliver a letter, asks me to dance. And yes, he still quotes Shakespeare and the Bible, even sometimes on dates. And he is charming and incredibly well mannered."
"I remember he was really well dressed, well spoken, in a very reserved sort of way," said Becky.
"He still is but he is also warm and tender and affectionate," said Shane quietly.
"And how affectionate is he?" joked Becky.
"REBECCA STARKWELL! Really," chided Shane with a laugh.
"I didn't go there. You did. That's just a follow-up question," said Becky laughing.
"True. You got me. Let's just say that he is a great kisser," laughed Shane.
"Aw, that's sweet," said Becky.
"Oh Becky, he is unlike any man I've ever dated. He really is the best man I know. He's like a promise that you know will be kept. When he holds my hand there is sense of something that is steadfast. When we're walking he offers his arm and sort of pulls you close. You know if you stumble somehow he will catch you. It's the way he listens when I talk and you know that he heard. And yes, he is a great kisser. And if you tell anyone I said that…"said Shane.
"Your secret is safe with me," said Becky with a smile in her voice. "I wouldn't expect any less from the reputation of Oliver O'Toole. But it's really too bad."
"Why," asked Shane, stunned.
"I have an opening in Direct Line Operations in Seattle again, but I don't think you need to be transferred this time," said Becky, teasing her friend.
"No, no I do not," said Shane laughingly.
"Girl you've got it bad."
"Guilty as charged," said Shane.
"Shane, this sounds serious. And unlike previous relationships, he is available," said Becky. "Are you two already taking about…a future together?"
"Not yet. He keeps his cards close to his vest. We really haven't dated that long. One bad marriage is not going to become two if he has anything to do it with it. Of course I don't want a mess either."
"So the crazy chick in Paris stayed in Paris?" asked Holly.
"Well, remember she came home. He offered to reconcile, she said no," said Shane.
"Yeah, I remember! That's when he bought you that porch swing!" said Becky.
"Yes, and that's more information that you aren't allowed to share," said Shane. "It was a tough time for Oliver. He went through a lot that year."
"My lips are sealed like an envelope," said Becky. "You have cared about this man a long time. I know that. And I understand."
"Sometimes I just can't help myself," Shane said with a chuckle. "We just finished a case that involved returning a stuffed dinosaur to a beautiful little boy with blonde hair. He's adorable."
"Oliver or the little boy?" teased Becky.
"Both were adorable – but that was a reference to the little boy," said Shane. "When we were leaving his mom told him to come and to thank us. He ran over and Oliver stooped down on the little guy's level to talk. The boy threw his arms around Oliver. All I could see was that head of blonde hair buried in Oliver's neck. I haven't seen Oliver with children. Suddenly, I couldn't help but think that one day - you know. Then I think, Shane McInerney, get a hold of yourself! We still have a long way to go before anything like that happens. I mean, like I said, we have only been dating a few weeks," said Shane. "Sometimes, to be honest, it's a little scary."
"Scary?"
"How much I do care about him," said Shane.
"Give yourself a little credit. It's not foolish to be in love with a man like an available Oliver," said Becky.
"Whoa, I never said I was in love with Oliver," said Shane.
"Just in a 1000 different ways," said Becky. "This all sounds wonderful. When this moves from going steady to engaged I better get more than a text!"
"If that happens it will be a while. I'll have to trust the timing. Thanks for letting me go on and on. And thanks for not making me feel foolish. I haven't talked to anyone about this," said Shane.
"Not Rita?" asked Becky.
"Not really. She and Norman know that we are dating of course. She knows some things. I just don't think it would be appropriate to tell Rita that her boss is a great kisser," said Shane laughing.
"No, that probably wouldn't be appropriate," said Becky.
"Shaney, I'm happy for you, really happy," said Becky.
"Thank you."
"I'm going to get some sleep. I have a plane to catch. I have to be at the airport at 6:00," said Becky.
"You better call it a night. Thank you so much calling. Have a great trip to London. Call me when you get back. I want to hear all about your trip. Next time you talk, I listen," said Shane.
"I don't know if London can compete with stories of the incredible Oliver O'Toole," Becky said.
"All right, I know, I know," said Shane.
"Remember, you deserve a fine man in your life and Oliver is a very fine man. Good night," said Becky.
"Good night," said Shane.
Shane let the cell phone fall onto the coverlet. She rose, took off her clothes, and dressed for bed. She was glad that Becky had called. She enjoyed extolling the virtues of Oliver O'Toole. He was foremost in her thoughts. She could have spoken of many meaningful moments but most of them were private: words spoken, a touch, a look, a laugh, a letter that would be only between the two of them. Already boundaries had been established in which they were creating their own private world - things shared between two people in love that weren't for public consumption. Not that anything was untoward. It was just personal. As she crawled into bed it was those thoughts that would accompany her to sleep.