Authors's note: This first appeared in the Schooner Bay Beacon. For more information on this publication and for back issues, you can find the site under search word "macwombat".

Mysterious Ways

The moon is nearly full tonight; its milky-white face shines down on me as I sit on the rail, my feet stretched out in front of me, Gull Cottage and its surroundings bathed in the slightly unearthly glow. A whisper of breeze ruffles the young leaves of the monkey-puzzle tree, drawing a faint murmur from it. I let out a contented sigh; this is the good life.

Well – afterlife, in my case.

"Nice balance."

I turn my glance toward Carolyn and watch as she closes the front door behind her and approaches me, an appreciative look in her eyes. I feel my whole being grow still as a feeling of peace settles over me at the sight of her – when did she gain such ascendance on my soul, I wonder?

Chuckling at her words, I nod my welcome at her as she lowers herself into a nearby lawn chair and charmingly tucks her feet under her. "Not hardly, my dear. You should try it on a ship's rail while at sea – now, that's balance."

She chuckles back, the sound a sparkling counterpoint to the whispering leaves. "I really shouldn't be surprised, considering you used to climb church steeples as a boy." She cocks her head at me, her gaze inquisitive. "Why did you?"

I shrug. "Same reason people climb mountains – because it was there."

"Of course – my apologies," she replies, a twinkle in her eye. There is but a second of silence before we both break up laughing.

"What about you, dear lady?" I ask once we've sobered up somewhat. "Any scaling experience you would care to divulge?"

She shakes her head with a smile. "I'm afraid not. Snooping was more my thing."

"Really?" I reply, trying hard to keep my tone free of insinuations. Based on the look she's giving me, I don't think I was entirely successful. "And what kind of snooping would that be, pray? Assuming, of course, that the telling is fit for public consumption," I add with a look I know she'll read as teasing.

Sure enough, she sticks her tongue out at me in retaliation before answering. "I always loved learning new things; and since more often than not, I would end up with an unsatisfactory answer, I had to go look for answers myself." She pauses. "Of course, some of that snooping involved boys, but that is an entirely different story," she adds, deadpan.

I feel my jaw drop. "Carolyn Muir! I'm shocked – why, the idea of you… you…"

"Me… what?" she asks, her green eyes daring me to say the words I'm thinking.

Feeling my devilish streak rise up, I do tell her, making her gasp in complete surprise until a fit of laughter overtakes her, drawing from her the most contagious belly laugh I think I've ever heard. When she stops finally, after wiping her eyes, she looks at me with such warmth that I'm nearly overwhelmed. "Thank you, Daniel," she says softly, her face still glowing from her bout of hilarity.

"What for?" I ask, puzzled, yet intrigued.

"For making me laugh like that. It's been a long time."

I try shrugging it off while secretly reveling in the feeling of pride her words kindle within me. "That's what friends are for, my dear."

And that's when it hits me – that feeling of peace she instills in me whenever she's near is but the afterglow of the friendship she constantly offers me, regardless of my state. Such irony – I, who had boldly declared to this lovely lady upon our first meeting that it was impossible to like women, am now basking in the glow of that very sentiment!

I suddenly realize I must have been staring at her for some time, because she gives me a curious look, smiling a little uncertainly at the expression on my face. "What?"

I bring my legs down and turn toward her, needing to face her. "I never thought I'd ever say this to a woman," I finally reply softly, "but I like you, Carolyn Muir; I like you very much."

She looks startled for the space of a breath, then favors me with a brilliant smile. She knows. "Why, thank you, Daniel. This means a great deal to me."

I incline my head at her, savoring the moment. "I read somewhere that friends are God's way of helping us," I tell her quietly, looking deep into her emerald gaze, hoping to get my meaning across to her very soul, even if my words cannot possibly begin to.

She ducks her head briefly as a lovely blush colors her cheeks. "Have I done that?"

As I consider the small force of nature before me, my mind floods with all the kindnesses she has shown me, chief among them her belief in me, in my existence – such as it is. "Oh, yes," I eventually reply, words failing me utterly. "In spades, my dear."

She simply nods her thanks with a smile. "They also say God moves in mysterious ways," she reminds me softly, her tone and her eyes rich with meaning.

This makes me chuckle, surprising us both into a change of mood. "You have no idea how much, dear lady," I reply as I swing my legs back up on the railing and prepare to launch into one of my stories.

Aye, God does move in mysterious ways – none more so than friendship.