Marriage Seasons 03 - Falling for You Again

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Authors: Catherine Palmer,Gary Chapman

BOOK: Marriage Seasons 03 - Falling for You Again
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and about Gary Chapman at
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Falling for You Again
Copyright © 2007 by Catherine Palmer and Gary Chapman. All rights reserved.

Cover illustration copyright © 2007 by Doug Martin. All rights reserved.

Authors’ photograph by John Capelli/Capelli Photography. All rights reserved.

Designed by Jennifer Ghionzoli

Edited by Kathryn S. Olson

Scripture quotations are taken from the
Holy Bible,
King James Version.

Some Scripture quotations are taken from the
Holy Bible,
New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the authors or publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Palmer, Catherine, date.

Falling for you again / Catherine Palmer and Gary Chapman.

p. cm.

ISBN-13: 978-1-4143-1167-8 (sc)

ISBN-10: 1-4143-1167-2 (sc)

1. Married people—Fiction. 2. Older couples—Fiction. 3. Marriage—Fiction.
4. Missouri—Fiction. I. Chapman, Gary D., date II. Title.

PS3566.A495F35 2007
813’.54—dc22
2007024430

Printed in the United States of America

13 12 11 10 09 08 07
  7  6   5   4   3   2   1

Contents

NOTE TO READERS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

FOUR SEASONS
WINTER TURNS TO SPRING

FOR AUNT PEGGY AND UNCLE AL CUMMINS.

Thank you for loving me and my family so many years.
I’ll never forget the “three-ring circus” at Ngara Road, the laughter down the
hall on prayer meeting nights in the house on Ol Donyo Sabuk Road, Uncle
Al’s booming voice preaching at Parklands, and Aunt Peggy’s sweet Texas
accent teaching me what being a young lady truly meant. From one member
of the “girl Cummins” to my dear “boy Cummins” family, I love you.
C.P.

Ruth and I are happily incompatible.
BILLY GRAHAM,
when asked
the secret of being married fifty-four years to the same person
A good marriage is the union of two good forgivers.
RUTH BELL GRAHAM

NOTE TO READERS

There’s nothing like a good story! I’m excited to be working with Catherine Palmer on a fiction series based on the concepts in my book
The Four Seasons of Marriage
. You hold in your hands the third book in this series.

My experience, both in my own marriage and in counseling couples for more than thirty years, suggests that marriages are always moving from one season to another. Sometimes we find ourselves in winter—discouraged, detached, and dissatisfied; other times we experience springtime, with its openness, hope, and anticipation. On still other occasions we bask in the warmth of summer—comfortable, relaxed, enjoying life. And then comes fall with its uncertainty, negligence, and apprehension. The cycle repeats itself many times throughout the life of a marriage, just as the seasons repeat themselves in nature. These concepts are described in
The Four Seasons of Marriage
, along with seven proven strategies to help couples move away from the unsettledness of fall or the alienation and coldness of winter toward the hopefulness of spring or the warmth and closeness of summer.

Combining what I’ve learned in my counseling practice with Catherine’s excellent writing skills has led to this series of four novels. In the lives of the characters you’ll meet in these pages, you will see the choices I have observed people making over and over again through the years, the value of caring friends and neighbors, and the hope of marriages moving to a new and more pleasant season.

In
Falling for You Again
and the other stories in the Four Seasons fiction series, you will meet newlyweds, blended families, couples who are deep in the throes of empty-nest adjustment, and senior couples. Our hope is that you will see yourself or someone you know in these characters. If you are hurting, this book can give you hope—and some ideas for making things better. Be sure to check out the discussion questions at the end of the book for further ideas.

And whatever season you’re in, I know you’ll enjoy the people and the stories in Deepwater Cove.

Gary D. Chapman, PhD

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

So many people affect the writing and publication of a novel. For their beautiful example of a long marriage, I honor my parents, Harold and Betty Cummins. I also thank the many missionary families I grew up with in Kenya whose enduring marriages I have tried to emulate. For sharing both laughter and tears, my longtime friends are treasures I cherish. Janice, Mary, Roxie, Kristie, BB, Lucia, I love you. My prayer support team holds me up before God, and I can’t thank you enough, Mary, Andrew, Nina, and Marilyn.

I also thank my Tyndale family for all you have meant to me during these past ten years. Ron Beers and Karen Watson, bless you for making this series not only a reality but a pleasure. Kathy Olson, I can’t imagine having the courage to write a single word without you. Your careful editing and precious friendship are truly gifts from the Lord. Andrea, Babette, Mavis, Travis, and Keri, the amazing sales team, the wonderful design department—thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Though I often leave them for last, first on my list of supporters, encouragers, and loved ones are my family. Tim, Geoffrey, and Andrei, I love you so much.

Catherine Palmer

CHAPTER ONE

F
all always brings changes to Deepwater Cove,” Charlie Moore said as he sat at Patsy Pringle’s styling station in her Just As I Am beauty salon. “And I don’t mean the good kind.”

“Now you stop talking like that, honey,” Patsy chided, brushing the back of Charlie’s neck. “Especially on a Friday afternoon in my favorite month of the year. There’s nothing like a September weekend to lift a girl’s spirits—and I won’t have you trying to squash ’em flat.”

Patsy finished brushing the wisps of hair off Charlie’s neck. Then she turned him around and let him have a look in the mirror.

He checked to see that his sideburns were even; then he nodded.

“Good work, Patsy. You always fix me up right.”

She smiled and patted his shoulders. “I have a feeling this autumn is going to be one of our prettiest in years, Charlie. The leaves are starting to change colors already, and a cool breeze is blowing in off the lake. I don’t know why you’d think we’re in for a rough season.”

Charlie shook his head. “History, Patsy. Look at our history. A year ago, the last of the Hansen kids went off to college, and, well … you know things got pretty difficult for Steve and Brenda.”

“What else happened in the autumn, Charlie?” she asked. “I’ve owned this salon for umpteen years, and I can’t remember a single bad thing.”

“That’s you, Patsy. The eternal optimist.” He leaned back in the chair, adjusted his glasses, and began. “Last fall, we had the Hansen problem. The year before that, flu took two of our widows—one in September and the other in early November, as I recall. And don’t forget the year the pizza restaurant went belly-up, the main bank in Camdenton shut down its local branch, and the new tavern set up shop—all of them right as summer ended.”

“Well, I have to admit I’m no fan of Larry’s Lake Lounge. Why is it that bars never go out of business? That rankles me,” Patsy declared, whisking the cape from Charlie’s shoulders and helping him from the chair. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the young woman was trying to hurry him along.

Charlie started for the cash register. “I’m with you on that one, Patsy. Too many young guys waste the better part of their time and their money there. Never understood it myself.”

“And don’t forget the fall colors,” Patsy said. “I know folks enjoy going on tours to look at the leaves changing along the East Coast and up toward Canada, but land’s sakes, why don’t they open their eyes right here? The Ozarks has some of the prettiest fall colors God ever painted on a tree.”

“Sumac,” Charlie said as he tugged his wallet from his pocket. “Now there’s a red you won’t often see in nature.”

“See what I mean? Fall is a wonderful time of year.”

Charlie chuckled. “I reckon you’re right, Patsy. Plus, most of the out-of-towners are gone, and we don’t have to put up with all their fireworks, speedboats, and barhopping.”

“I love the excitement and fun the summer crowd brings, but I don’t mind too much when they leave. There’s a kind of peace that settles around us—even though we’ve still got plenty to do. Fall festivals, bake sales, church hayrides. And the high school homecoming parade, trick-or-treaters, Thanksgiving—”

“All right, all right,” Charlie sputtered, holding up a hand. “If I stay here any longer you’re going to talk the blues right out of me, Patsy Pringle. I was just working up a good head of melancholy and pessimism, but you’re fixin’ to ruin the whole thing.” He shrugged. “You’ve plumb worn me down with all your zip-a-dee-doo-dah. I won’t have any choice now but to be in a good mood, which means I’ll go home and infect Esther, who’ll get all chipper and talk my ear off.”

“Esther’s due here in about twenty minutes for her weekly set-and-style,” Patsy said. “In fact, I was surprised you didn’t come together.”

“I’m not going to sit through that ordeal again. I did it once and believe you me, once was enough. Nope, I think I’ll head home and start putting the vegetable garden to bed.”

Patsy sighed as she studied him. “Charlie, I just want you to know that every time I see you and Esther together, I feel like there’s hope for the world. You’re both so kind and helpful—and sweet as apple pie to each other. How long have you two been married?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Well now, that takes some figuring. My seventieth birthday is just around the bend, and I was born in …” He paused, lifting his eyes to the ceiling as if the numbers were written up there in the wallpaper border. “And we got married in . . . hmmm . . .” He calculated some more. “Good gravy, we’ll be coming up on fifty years before we know it. Who would have thought?”

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