Love By its First Name Page 30
As he drove into Paris, Jerry was surprised at how dreary it looked, even worse, it seemed, than his first sighting last August. He dropped Ricky off at home and went to the rectory.
The light was blinking on the answering machine. The first message was a request to set a time for a baptism. The second was a short message from Rebecca, “Hi Jerry. It’s Monday at eleven, please call as soon as possible. It’s important, call me at home!”
If she’s home, it must be important, he thought. A cold chill ran down his spine as he thought of Rebecca calling him to say that she was getting married to someone and wanted him to perform the ceremony. The thought made his hands shake. He nervously punched in Rebecca’s number.
She picked it up after the first ring and sounded very business-like as she said, “This is Rebecca.”
“Hi, Rebecca, what’s up? You sounded a bit upset when you left the message.”
“Thanks for calling back, Jerry. I need to ask a favor.”
“Sure, what can I do for you?”
“Jerry, my mother died yesterday. Her attorney called this morning and asked if I would attend the funeral in New York and be present for the reading of the will. He said it was important. As you know, I have never been close to my mother and I have no idea why I should be there for the reading of the will, but, Jerry, I do want to be there for some reason. I’m not sure why.”
“So how can I help?”
“Would you please go to New York with me? I’ll pay your way. I just can’t go by myself. I thought of asking Helene but I would really rather have you with me. Could you do it, Jerry? Please?”
It was the first time she had ever pleaded for anything. “Of course I will. Rebecca, I’m happy to do it.” Jerry had debated about when to ask her to marry him. It couldn’t be over the phone. On the way home, he decided to drive to St. Louis on Tuesday, if Rebecca was available. Maybe after the funeral. “When is the service?”
“On Wednesday at eleven. I’ve checked out flights and, believe it or not, there’s a flight from Aberdeen to New York tomorrow morning. And it stops in St. Louis! How about that? Oh, Jerry, thank you. I’ll reserve your ticket in Aberdeen as soon as I hang up.”
“Thank you for asking. It will be great to see you. Have I told you lately that I love you?” Jerry felt wonderful.
“No, as a matter of fact, you haven’t. Jerry, you aren’t drinking, are you?”
“No. And I do love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” That is the first truly “I love you, “ he had ever said to anyone and with shaking hands he quickly hung up before Rebecca could respond.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank all the people who have helped me over the years in writing this novel. At first I was going to name all of you in this space, but there are just too many, but I do think of all of you and appreciate your encouragement and help. I would especially like to thank Mike MacCarthy, my ‘book doctor’ whose Read and Critique class and editing assistance has been invaluable. My daughter, Micaela Myers, generously helped me with editing and character development ideas and especially by sharing two heart-felt poems that I have incorporated into the manuscript. Jim McErlean shared a portion of his journal that I believe gave a bit more reality to the book’s ending. Mina Sirovy, Patsy Gaffney and Gayle Copeland helped a great deal in editing, characterization and plot development. A special thanks to Michelle Durban and Linda Shafer and all those who read one or more of the early, truly awful, manuscripts but encouraged me to continue anyway. I thank Rod McKuen and Montcalm Productions for the beautiful words of the song, Who Has Touched the Sky. One line of that song is the title of this novel. And a thank you to Amanda McBroom and Fox Fanfare Music for the wonderful lyrics of the song, The Rose.
Thank you all for blessing me with your time, talent, energy, and love.
This is a work of fiction and not a memoir nor an autobiography; all characters are fictitious although, at times, they are composites of persons I have known. The protagonist, Jerry Haloran, is taller, far better looking, more intelligent and courageous than I ever was – so he is a figment of my wishful thinking. Aberdeen and Paris, Kansas do not exist.
Thank you for reading my book!
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Love by its First Name.
As an author, I love getting feedback. I would love to hear what your favorite part of the story was, and what you liked or disliked, please share your thoughts with me. You can write me at df_hanley1933@yahoo.com.
Also, I’d like to ask a favor. If you are so inclined, I’d love a review of Love by its First Name on Amazon and Goodreads. You, the reader, have the power to influence other readers to share your journey with a book you’ve read. In fact, most readers pick their next book because of a review or on the advice of a friend. So, please share! You can find all of my books on my Amazon author page here: http://bit.ly/DonHanley.
If you liked this book, I highly encourage you to read the continuation of this story in the second volume, Wrestling with God.
Thank you so much for reading Love by its First Name and thanks for spending time with me and these amazing characters.
Best regards,
Don Hanley
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Don Hanley has lived a very full 85 years in the western United States. He is a ‘child of the depression’, born in Nebraska, and now living in California. He began his working life at age 11, in a lumber yard in South Dakota and later in Kansas. He entered the seminary to study to be a Catholic priest and was ordained in l964. He later left the priesthood to marry. He earned several degrees, ending in a degree in Psychology. As a psychotherapist, graduate school professor, and counseling supervisor, he limited his writing to professional articles and booklets, such How To Live With Yourself And Enjoy It, followed by How To Live With Your Partner And Enjoy It…and, How To Live With Your Children And Enjoy It. While a counseling supervisor, he wrote two novels, Love By Its First Name, this book, Wrestling With God, and is currently working on A Brave New Compassionate World.