Authentically izzy, p.4
Authentically, Izzy, page 4
Oh, and I also speak in quotes much too often for anyone’s benefit but my own.
So, quite appropriately, I end with a quote by the effervescent Mr. Disney: “There is more treasure in books than in all the pirates’ loot on Treasure Island.” And to this I add that I believe the best friendships hold as true a treasure as the greatest books—so only imagine how perfect the combination of both could be?
Authentically,
Izzy
PS: There you have it, Josie. Everything I’ve wanted to say to you for years in one rather succinct note. If you are going to continue with this matchmaking barrage, you might as well get a better understanding of whom you’re matching.
PPS: And for the six-hundredth time, I do not like pistachios. The word is fabulous but not the taste.
PPPS: My Anne Frank quote was much better than your Keats.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Penelope Edgewood, Luke Edgewood
Date: March 3
Subject: Izzy the Valiant
Penelope & Luke,
There! I’ve done it. And, surprisingly, I’m not sorry in the least little bit. I feel justified and relieved and powerful in some kind of strange way.
I’ve poured out my soul in the most authentic fashion possible. I don’t know that I’ve ever laid bare my heart like this, except for a sleepover at Lucy Lawrence’s in eighth grade where I wept like a baby over watching Bambi. I don’t think I’d really expressed my grief over Mom and Dad in such a real way. My tears ran like a hydrant. Needless to say, Lucy never invited me back again, but she did give me her copy of Bambi.
Expressing my effusive genuineness is a definite measure of Brodie’s forbearance, Josie’s level of commitment to this charade, and the entire usefulness (or lack thereof) of online dating communities.
Whatever the case may be, let the pages fall as they may, but I must say I feel incredibly happy at voicing my passion to another human being (even if that human being is merely my deceptive cousin). Josie deserves the verbal diatribe after all the false hopes and forbearance she’s inspired.
And I sorted out a few things about my own heart in the process.
I love my life. I love the long walks and the mountain views. I love working with books and helping people find new stories to enjoy. I love our family, though I wish we were closer in proximity—especially you two—but your absence has spurred me into realizing I need at least one physical friend outside my family. That sounds pitiful, but I’ve been fairly satisfied with coworkers, fellow congregants, and my family in filling that social piece of my heart. However, with you both physically in two different states from me, I miss the physical connection I had with others. And Josie doesn’t count, because her physical connections include more slaps to my arm or prods to my back than hugs (especially when the prodding is toward single men, regardless of age).
Books are excellent inspiration, but very poor conversationalists . . . and nonexistent huggers. I think I shall try to attend the next booksellers convention and, perhaps, take an in-person business class or maybe start with a seminar at the community college. The online bookshop community has been wonderful for gleaning all sorts of business knowledge, but no real friends. I still have the grand hope of owning my own bookshop someday. Maybe. If I can get past the idea of bookkeeping, math, and negotiating.
I think—as strange as it may sound at the age of thirty—I’m beginning to realize who I am and what I want. Or, at least the realization is beginning to emerge.
Penelope, I hope your performance as Flower Girl #1 was astounding. I have no doubt it was.
Luke, I just wanted you to witness my personal growth through words. I know how you love to talk about emotions.
With love,
Izzy
PS: Penelope, be wiser than your older cousin. Know your own heart as best you can before you attempt to discover whether another heart will match yours. It may take longer, but it keeps the scars and self-doubt to a greater minimum.
From: Luke Edgewood
To: Izzy Edgewood
Date: March 3
Subject: Emotions?
What are emotions?
Luke
PS: I cried during Bambi too. They used the word twitterpated.
* * *
Heart-to-Heart
Date: March 4
Izzy,
I’ve been called many names over the course of my life, some less flattering than others, but “Josie” has not been one of them.
Your matchmaking cousin sounds similar to my grandmother. Do you think there is a clinical diagnosis for obsessive matchmaking or do we chalk it up to overeager, loving family members with too much time on their hands? I think I prefer my grandmother making hand-knit sweaters in her spare time than attempting to knit up my future. Ah, that was an awful pun, but you get my point. Though I used to have a wealth of sweaters.
As far as books are concerned, I don’t think I could have voiced my opinion as colorfully as you. Books have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, and, yes, there is so much life in them that many times I have to remind myself that the characters on the page are not flesh and blood. I carried such agitation around inside me as I read The Count of Monte Cristo in my earlier days that my mother scolded me and threatened to take the book away before I could finish reading it. But I felt the injustice of Edmond’s plight viscerally. Needless to say, her threat cut me to my core and I endeavored to guard my sarcasm, though I failed miserably at brightening my countenance. My wrinkled brow inspired the nickname the Blighty Mastiff, which was affectionately reduced to only Blighty and is a term my brother calls me to this day.
I am sorry to hear of your parents’ passing but am glad to know you feel them near you when you read. It’s no wonder you’d find such solace and enjoyment in books. In part, I feel your reasoning quite well, as I lost my dear father not too long ago and he loved the written word. Perhaps there is something to a genetic love of books. My family, particularly my grandparents and parents, provided continual inspiration on that score. I suppose one could say that I lived among books and lovers of books, which may be why I present as such a quiet sort when it comes to speaking words. I’ve been much more accustomed to seeing them.
And, yes, I find nature a sure connection to a heavenly realm. It’s why I love my home so much. The air is clean, the breeze is constant, and the horizon never fails to remind me of my place in the world.
Would you mind giving me more details as to your blue mountains? My Google search has mostly landed me within the Blue Ridge Mountains of the eastern United States, though a few in Scotland arose as well.
Your comrade in bibliophilia,
Brodie (though if it makes you feel more comfortable, you can keep referring to me as Josie)
PS: Your Anne Frank quote was much better than my Keats. I raise you Lewis Carroll, since the mountains on my horizon are currently dusted with snow. “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and the fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.’”
PPS: No job opportunity should ever cost a person’s heart.
Text from Izzy to Penelope and Luke: I don’t think Brodie is Josie. I’m going to go prick my finger on the needle of a spinning wheel and sleep through this disaster for a hundred years.
Izzy: Unless Josie has suddenly developed a wonderful sense of humor and a kindred understanding of a reader’s heart, which she’s never had before, this Heart-to-Heart message cannot be from Josie. I’m forwarding Brodie’s message to you both. Does this sound like your sister at all? Please say it does. Somewhere? Maybe the sweater-knitting part?
Izzy: Did I really pour my soul out to a complete stranger? From an online dating community? What do I do now?
Izzy: It is a very good letter.
Izzy: Off to find an evil fairy named Maleficent.
Luke: I felt the same way about The Count of Monte Cristo. I think you ought to give old Blighty a chance. And just think how many books you’ll miss if you sleep for a hundred years .
Izzy: You are right. No amount of lifelong embarrassment is worth that sacrifice. Thank you for keeping me grounded.
From: Penelope Edgewood
To: Izzy Edgewood, Luke Edgewood
Date: March 5
Subject: Sweaters and Blighty
I love him!! I have no idea what The Count of Monte Cristo is, but his response to it and the nickname Blighty has me all aflutter. He’s so eloquent and charming. I’m sorry to say this, but I bet he’s old. Young, dashing men do not talk like that nowadays, unless they’re a part of some costume drama production.
They certainly don’t talk that way at the university.
Except my literature professor. But he’s wonderful. And old.
Love,
Penelope
PS: Why would he need knit sweaters if he lives in California? Isn’t it pretty temperate there?
PPS: I have decided to stop dating until someone in the possible relationship matures to the point of actually being able to date. I’m not that person, nor have I met that person yet. I actually think dates should involve conversations. Oh gracious, Izzy, I just sounded like you! I need to go buy some new shoes.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Penelope Edgewood, Luke Edgewood
Date: March 6
Subject: Brodie the Mysterious?
Penelope and Luke,
If I can work up the nerve to respond to his very charming note (and I’m still trying to muster up that courage), I have no idea what to say. What could I possibly write after having smeared my heart across the page to the wrong person? And then, to have him answer as if I’m not some unstable, book-maniac recluse? I can’t figure out if he’s . . . real! And if he is, what’s his angle? Why would such a man NEED an online dating service? Why would he want to continue corresponding with ME? Why would my attempt to call his bluff (or Josie’s) have no negative impact on this correspondence at all?
Penelope is probably right. He’s old. But how old is too old?
Why am I even asking that question? Clearly, Josie’s desperation is beginning to rub off on me. I need ice cream.
Perhaps I should indulge in some movie talk? That would give him away at once, wouldn’t it? As far as life-era?
Izzy
PS: He went to school in California. I don’t think he lives there now.
PPS: Knit sweaters are very stylish, especially sweater-vests.
PPPS: I’ve researched evergreen mountains that are currently snow-capped with a constant breeze. I think he must live in New Zealand, Scotland, Ireland, Iceland, or Greenland. I’ve narrowed it down to those, unless he really is a hobbit . . . at which point in time, my dream of fiction blending into reality has finally come true. That would actually make a lot of sense.
Text from Penelope to Izzy and Luke: Gauging someone’s age by movie choices isn’t going to help you, Izzy. Just think of my favorites. People sing in them. And wear pinstripe suits and tap shoes. And have a tendency to croon and say things like “dahling.”
Penelope: Wait, I wonder what that says about me?
Luke: Do you really want me to answer that?
Penelope: Shut up or I’ll find that photo of you as a yodeler.
Luke: Don’t start something you’re not prepared to win.
From: Luke Edgewood
To: Izzy Edgewood, Penelope Edgewood
Date: March 7
Subject: Re: Brodie the Mysterious?
Sweater-vests? Why does Mr. Rogers come to mind?
Which probably doesn’t help with the age thing.
Luke
PS: What is it with all the PPSes?
From: Josephine Martin
To: Izzy Edgewood
Date: March 8
Subject: Pie
Izzy,
I dropped a pie off at your apartment just now. Thanks for leaving your back door unlocked so I wouldn’t have to resort to edging on tiptoe to slide it through your window. However, I did notice what a disaster your kitchen was! Why on earth would you have a world map sprawled across your table with about fifteen thumbtacks holding it in place in one general area? Are you thinking of traveling? That would be wonderful. I think a change of scenery for you is exactly what you need! And think of all the new people you could meet!! I’m so proud of you for contemplating flying, Izzy. Despite your parents’ unfortunate situation, flying is still one of the safest ways to travel. (Where have I heard that before?)
And are you having someone over for dinner? I noticed your Irish cookbook lying open by the sink. Please say you’ve invited Steve over for dinner. You are a very good cook when you set your mind to it, especially when you’re trying out dishes from other countries.
Josephine
PS: My ultrasound is on the ninth. Then we will know whether to buy pink or blue! Patrick is excited to purchase tiny shoes.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Josephine Martin
Date: March 8
Subject: Re: Pie
Josephine (because of the pie),
Thank you. I accept your apology about the entire Heart-to-Heart initiation.
I’m not thinking of traveling any time in the near future, but I appreciate your concern for my kitchen’s tidiness. However, before you hear about it from Penelope or Aunt Louisa, I have signed up for a seminar about the business program at the community college. I think it’s time to start planning the future I want, instead of waiting for my future to happen to me.
And I am excited to discover whether nieces or nephews are in my future. Either way, you can be certain their first gift from their aunt Izzy will be a book. They make chewable ones for babies. I’ve already priced them.
Izzy
PS: How are you at knitting? Sweaters, in particular.
Text from Luke to Izzy: Stop procrastinating and write Blighty back.
Luke: I know you.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Luke Edgewood
Date: March 8
Subject: The Authentically Izzy Challenge
Luke,
I’ve decided to treat this entire “Hobbit Brodie, the Blighty Mastiff” situation as if it’s as fictional as it feels and sounds, which means I am determined to be as much myself as I possibly can. If I am, it will prove one of two things: he is as much a fraud as I’m afraid he is, OR he is as perfectly wonderful as I’m afraid he is. I’m not sure which I prefer, but I am determined to be brave and figure it out . . . safely from behind my computer screen. Does that still count as authentically me?
Befuddled,
Izzy
PS: Mr. Rogers wears a cardigan. Not the same thing. Sweater-vests can have either a sexy, cerebral sort of appeal, an arrogant-prefect appearance, or . . . an elderly, pipe-smoking chap with a dour expression and a dog on his lap look. It’s all about the wearer, of course. I think if you wore button-downs more often, it wouldn’t hurt at all. Girls like that. Respectably buttoned.
From: Luke Edgewood
To: Izzy Edgewood
Date: March 9
Subject: Re: The Authentically Izzy Challenge
You already know the answer. Stop doubting yourself.
Luke
PS: Never talk to me about clothes again. You’re terrifying. And confusing. “Respectably buttoned”?
* * *
Heart-to-Heart
Date: March 9
Brodie,
First of all, I need to apologize for thinking you were my cousin Josie (whose real name is Josephine, but I’ve been calling her Josie as punishment for the whole matchmaking fiasco).
As far as I can tell, you are not a married, pregnant, matchmaking woman with too much time on her hands, but since your profile picture only shows an adorable sheepdog pup (which I assume is Argos), then I have no way of being sure of this. Do hobbits have dogs?
My nickname isn’t as delightful as yours. Blighty has so much more character than Izzy. I had to google photos of a mastiff since my canine history involves a blue heeler named Sparky, Darcy the border collie, and a schnauzer named Abraham Lincoln—we called him Al for short. He was my cousin Luke's dog. Now I have Samwise and he’s a golden retriever. Dogs really are the most wonderful creatures, aren’t they? I’m contemplating getting a friend for Samwise so that he’ll have a companion while I’m at work. It only seems appropriate to name the friend Frodo, but I’m not sure what sort of dog will fit the name. I’m certain to spend too much time thinking about it. Names have power . . . or at least influence. As Anne of Green Gables said, “I don’t believe a rose would be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.” I’m not sure what a skunk cabbage is, but it sounds awful, which adds more proof to my point.
Oh, there I go, speaking nonsense to a stranger. Again, I want to apologize for my verbal tirade. I would have never indulged my inner Lizzie Bennet if I’d known you weren’t Josephine . . . or a complete fraud of some other sort. At this point I feel certain you aren’t Josephine. Once we determine you are not a sheepdog, perhaps we can disprove the latter.
The very fact you messaged me back has me intrigued. Would you happen to have an extremely emotional sister (or girlfriend) who prepared you for such a rhetorical explosion, because your response has been much too laissez-faire for a novice.
I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia in a small town near the North Carolina and Virginia line. Small towns are aplenty, but the closest city is about an hour away, which is fine with me because I prefer the serenity and quaintness of a slower pace of life.
What are your mountains like?
Izzy
PS: I raise your Lewis Carroll with Jack London’s, “But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as a man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called . . . for him to come.”
