Me and the Cute Catastrophe

Blakley Barclay knows her parents are up to something. They’ve been matching all her siblings and even some other people in her hometown of Mistletoe.

But the man they’re wanting to pair her up with? A huge pro-ball player with more muscles than brains and she is NOT interested.

So she turns to her best friend for help.

Martin Zedler is on the receiving end of some match-making of his own. He is equally uninterested.

Blakley’s proposition that they pretend to be interested in each other to foil the romantically inclined efforts of her parents seems like a good idea. Until a well-meaning do-gooder enters them into Mistletoe’s annual Christmas Kissing Contest.

When they’re crowned the winners, the town goes on a crusade to catch them kissing every chance they get.

How will their friendship ever survive?

Excerpt:

Natalie picked up her book and started reading again, but her mind wasn’t really on the story. She’d read it a million times, though, so she was still able to do the voices and put expression into it and make the kids laugh, but she’d been thinking about Welder Man.

Should she answer his email?

She kinda figured she had thanked him and that would be the end of it.

She added that last bit about the almond trees just to be goofy, because even though she was a serious and wise Mom of Five, she was still a kid at heart, and she hadn’t been able to keep her silly side contained.

Maybe, because she thought she’d never hear from him again, she’d felt a little more free to say something completely off the wall.

He hadn’t said exactly where he was, but he worked a hard job having those kinds of hours. Then he said he couldn’t say anything to the other guys, so obviously he was around just men.

She laughed. Maybe he was in prison.

Were prisoners allowed to send emails? Maybe that’s why it had taken so long for him to respond. Maybe they could only send emails on certain days.

That would be a mistake she hadn’t made yet.

“Why are you laughing, Mom?” Maggie asked.

“Sorry. That wasn’t a funny part, was it?” Man, kids noticed everything.

At least they’d managed to move into their new house.

Funny, that Welder Man would want to be in the Ozarks where she was. She didn’t know him, though, and thought it might be best not to admit that to him. Still…

Maybe she would email Welder Man back. Because yeah, he was pretty far off the mark too.

~~~

Dear Welder Man,

Originally, I emailed you because I was in a pretty desperate situation. But after being convicted about running ahead of the Lord, along with your statement about that website, and some advice from a good friend, I changed my course.

So funny how that works, because the very next day God provided a house for me. It’s not a permanent thing, but the lion is not at the door anymore, at least.

I guess you missed the mark too, because I’m not anywhere near Baltimore, and I’m not in an apartment either, and my kids have never swum in a swimming pool.

However, rather than almond trees, we have fruit trees!

I’ve kind of lucked into this, because the previous owner had been taking care of them, and they are ready to harvest now.

I didn’t realize this, because I wasn’t here this time last year, but I guess life is full of new experiences?

I have to admit I like the idea of glass walls. I like to look out when I can’t be out.

Eighty hours sounds like a long week, and your job doesn’t sound like fun.

Sincerely,

Mom of Five

~~~

Dear Mom of Five,

I like the idea that we don’t know each other’s names.

Sometimes I feel like I’m playing in a very bad B movie.

Been thinking lately about God’s plan versus what I want. When I was younger, I didn’t really consider God’s plan.

But I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be an underwater welder. I don’t even know where I heard of it for the first time.

We get older, and our perspective shifts.

Be happy,

Welder Man

PS I like hot sauce.

~~~ 

Dear Welder Man,

If your life is a B movie, mine has to be at least a C-. Do they grade us?

It’s funny that you mentioned God’s plan. I’ve been thinking along the same lines. I messed up when I was younger. Can I expect God to give me help?

I’ve always been a big believer in taking personal responsibility for what you’ve done and not taking the easy way out. But how much of that is me working, and how much of that is me sitting back and letting God do it?

I haven’t figured out the answer.

See straight,

Mom of Five

PS I’m short.

~~~

Dear Mom of Five,

I have no idea about the movies. I don’t watch many, although there’s not too much else to do in your downtime on the ship. It’s not exactly a cruise ship.

I’d rather be working if I’m awake. And usually am.

God will help you. He says so. He doesn’t say that you have to have certain prequalifications. Does he?

I think the hard part is letting go of what you want. Because most of the time, what we want isn’t what God wants for us. We fight for what we want, or we spend a lot of time trying to rationalize why what we want is what God wants. At least that’s what I do.

Be good,

Welder Man

PS Cardinals all the way.

~~~

Dear Welder Man,

I guess He doesn’t say that He requires prequalifications, but I feel like He should. And I don’t qualify. So that makes me feel like I need to do it on my own. Which is definitely not something you find in Scripture. So that leaves me floundering.

See the light,

Mom of Five

PS I hate baseball.

~~~

Dear Mom of Five,

I’m thinking you can’t go by your feelings. In fact, I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t.

I think it’s probably a matter of letting go of the worry and working as hard as you can while admitting that God is in control.

Just my thought, though, because I don’t have it figured out.

Be better,

Welder Man

PS I’m not sure we can still be friends.

~~~

Dear Welder Man,

Really? We can’t be friends because I don’t like baseball? Isn’t that shallow?

See beyond yourself,

Mom of Five

PS I’m afraid to admit anything else.

~~~

Dear Mom of Five,

You talked me into making an exception. Don’t tell anyone.

Be you,

Welder Man

PS I guess I can’t if you can’t.

~~~

Dear Welder Man,

I’m the only person you’re friends with who doesn’t like baseball? I’m sorry, but you need to get out more.

I’m putting the kids to bed. Then I’m going to pray for my direction and for you to break out of your bubble.

See the world,

Mom of Five

PS Peanut butter or jelly?

~~~

Dear Mom of Five,

I’ll work on getting out more.

There was supposed to be a cook on the ship, but he never showed up before we left port, so the ten of us take turns. Tonight was mine. I cooked steaks. They didn’t turn out too bad.

I can’t believe you hate baseball. Why?

Be happy,

Welder Man

PS Neither. I want meat on my sandwich. What do you do in your spare time?

~~~

Dear Welder Man,

My intense dislike of baseball goes back to elementary school when I was pitching. Not because I was any good at it, but because it was my turn to pitch. Someone hit a line drive. I don’t even remember where it hit me, but it hurt. I’ve hated it ever since.

See no baseball,

Mom of Five

PS I have five kids. I don’t have spare time. I’m kidding a little. After I put the kids to bed, sometimes I take a walk down the lane, especially when the moon’s out. I like the dark. You?

I can’t believe you don’t like peanut butter and jelly. The kids and I live on that. What’s meat?

~~~

Dear Mom of Five,

The righteous man falleth seven times yet riseth again. I can’t believe you’re letting one ball keep you from enjoying America’s favorite pastime. Tell you what, maybe you can continue to hate baseball in general, but you can fall in love with the Cardinals. How’s that?

Be open to baseball,

Welder Man

PS When I’m home, I like to visit my family. I’ve also been thinking of taking up farming. You mentioned fruit trees. I’ve been thinking about apples a lot. There’s a lot of good information on the Internet, but I want to order books. Unfortunately, USPS doesn’t deliver here.

Do you read?

I guess when I get back stateside, I’ll have to take you and the kids out for a real meal. I sure hope you are kidding about the meat question. Baseball, I can probably let it slide. (Notice the pun?) But meat? I can’t compromise on it. Sorry.

~~~

Dear Welder Man,

Okay, you convinced me. I was letting pain dictate my choice. I’ll try baseball. What time’s the next game? And who am I supposed to root for again?

See I can be taught,

Mom of Five

PS I didn’t say we didn’t like meat. We just can’t afford it. Well, that’s not true now. I’ve actually been making some money lately, but it’s not going to last, so I don’t want to spend it. So peanut butter and jelly it is. Occasionally we mix it up with macaroni and cheese and hot dogs. Hot dogs are meat. So there, you don’t have to compromise.

I love to read, but I don’t usually have too much time. I like fantasy. Something that’s completely different from the real world. I want to escape and get caught up in fairies and unicorns and pixie dust. And go on a good quest with a man of valor. Or a faun of valor, or whatever.

What do you like to read, other than about apples?

~~~

Dear Mom of Five,

You weren’t serious about asking about games and times, right? Because you know it’s the end of October.

Be serious,

Welder Man

PS Buy yourself some meat. The kids need it. Spend some of your moldy money. Or I’ll do it for you. Hot dogs don’t count. They’re not really meat. Look at the package, they’re just nitrates and ground-up plastic parts that fell off the machinery as it was processing steaks and roast. I promise there’s no nutrition in hot dogs. You gotta do right by your kids, lady.

I’ve been consumed with apples lately. I have a new favorite kind, although I’ve never tasted it. Arkansas Black. Man, you have to look that up. https://www.bing.com/images/search?q=arkansas+black+apple+pic Aren’t they gorgeous? You can’t believe how hungry I am for apple pie, apples and caramel, apple dumplings, apple anything, and there isn’t an apple left on board the ship. Trust me. I checked.

So I quit reading about apples and started reading about sharks.

There aren’t any sharks on the ship either.

I have seen a couple in the water. Not the ones with big teeth though.

~~~

Dear Welder Man,

Sharks in the water?!?!?!?!

You’re kidding, right?

Hopefully. I mean, I guess there’s probably sharks in the water, but you don’t actually see them, right? That sounds dangerous.

Are you going to tell me we can’t be friends if I was truly serious about that baseball question? I’m not even sure what I said that was wrong.

See the other person’s side,

Mom of Five

PS Your apples are beautiful. You won’t believe this, but we actually have Arkansas Blacks around here, and I was just picking some today. They’re sour. Just saying. One of the old-timers said that if you put salt on them, they don’t taste sour. I haven’t tried it. It doesn’t even sound good to me.

Now, caramel on the other hand? I think we have that in common.

I haven’t had time to make any pies, but I can. And I plan to. Thanksgiving isn’t that far away. I think my kids are tired of apples—they’re cheaper than meat—but I’ve been looking at stuffing that has apples, baked apples, and I’m pretty sure I can make 10 apples into the shape of a turkey. I don’t think I have to spend any money on Thanksgiving dinner. And it’s not moldy, I’m just saving it, because I know what it’s like to not have any.

I think you should read about the desert.

~~~

Dear Mom of Five,

I wasn’t kidding about the sharks, but I said their teeth were little. It’s the ones with the big teeth that are scary.

Baseball is over for the year. You just missed it. I wonder if it’s on purpose.

Be honest,

Welder Man

PS I’ve been reading about the desert. It has sand and no sharks. There’s no water either, so might be a little hard for me to make a living. Thanks for the suggestion, though.

I tried one of your fantasy books. I couldn’t suspend my disbelief long enough to get into it. How do you read that stuff?

I think I’m going back to apples.

Although, I had to delete your email that talked about apple pies, apple dumplings, baked apples, apples and caramel, apple everything, because I am really craving apples right now. Did I mention there are no apples on the ship?

But we have tuna. There’s like fifty-seven cans of tuna in the galley pantry. Fifty-seven. Like seriously, if we really want tuna, we can throw a line over the side of the ship and work on getting ourselves some.

Apples on the other hand? No go.

I think I’m going to oversee the packing of the galley next time. Especially if I have to cook.

We do, however, have cinnamon. I thought I might take some tuna and make an apple pie out of it. I’ll let you know how it goes.

~~~

Dear Welder Man,

I’ve never watched a game of baseball in my life. I really didn’t know the season was over. Although, it kind of makes sense. I guess they don’t play in the winter.

I like figure skating.

See the apple pie,

Mom of Five

PS So I have to know, how’d the pie turn out? I was talking to one of the old-timers here, and I was telling him about your tuna pie with cinnamon, and he mentioned that he has a recipe that uses zucchini, and it tastes just like apple pie.

I didn’t believe him.

He came back this morning at 5:30, I’m not even kidding about that, and I have to admit that I wasn’t dressed when he knocked on the door. But if he thought it was weird that I only stuck my head out, he didn’t say.

He gave me his zucchini that’s supposed to taste just like apple pie recipe along with two zucchini, and he told me he’s coming back tomorrow to ask me how it is. I was going to pick apples today. But I think I’ll have to make a pie before I do. Hopefully, mine turns out better than I suspect yours did, although I think we both might be considered a little nuts.

~~~

Dear Mom of Five,

If I drop baseball, will you drop figure skating?

How do you feel about bull riding?

Be a rodeo fan,

PS The mightiest oak tree was once a little nut.

I think a little nutty is good. I guess I have to because all the guys on this ship are a little nutty, including me. We have to be.

So, the pie.

Little note about the guys on the ship. If you catch them as soon as they get off work, and they’re sober, they’re a little pickier about what they’ll eat.

By about midnight? They loved it. I’ll give you the recipe.

On the other hand, I don’t think you should be getting quite that drunk. Not when you’re responsible for five children. Never mind about the recipe.

Email me if you’re ever in charge of feeding a ship full of sailors and have fifty-seven cans of tuna and no apples, and I’ll share.

I will say we’re down to forty-nine cans of tuna. And I used half the container of cinnamon. I think it might have been a little much.

I took notes for next time.

How did your zucchini pie turn out? And if you tell me that you had to get your kids drunk in order to get them to eat it, I’m afraid I’m going to have to turn you in.

~~~

Dear Welder Man,

Dropping baseball. Dropping figure skating. Dropping bull riding.

How do you feel about curling?

See new things,

Mom of Five

PS I’m a little concerned about life on board the ship and how it might be corrupting you. I guess I thought the whole thing about sailors and alcohol was an old wives’ tale.

How drunk did the chef have to be in order to make the apple pie out of tuna?

You are not gonna believe this, but my zucchini pie tasted exactly like apple pie. I’m not even kidding. The man was right. You cannot tell the difference. I would have sworn on a stack of Bibles that that thing was an apple pie with real apples.

I don’t want the recipe to get out though, because I’ve been selling apples. Apples are a lot more expensive than zucchini. If you can make apple pie out of zucchini that tastes exactly like apple pie, why in the world would you buy apples when you can get zucchini for like one-tenth of the price?

So I burned it. The recipe not the pie.

I didn’t figure you’d care, because—I’m guessing here—there’s no zucchini on the ship either.