Authentically izzy, p.3
Authentically, Izzy, page 3
You don’t have to worry about making a fool of yourself in front of him when you spill a milkshake down the front of your blouse just before going onstage for dress rehearsal for your debut part as Flower Girl #1 and then watch him cozy up next to the girl who beat you out of the lead role of Eliza Doolittle.
See? I bet you’ll never have something like that happen with an online relationship. (I recognize my comment about authenticity may sound hypocritical since I still have my Julie Andrews profile photo up, but, as an actress of stage productions, I realize the crazies that are out there. In fact, I’m on stage with a few of them.)
Penelope
PS: He did trip over one of the flowerpots on set and got potting soil stuck on his perfectly straight teeth. (And before you ask, this time it was not my fault.)
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Penelope Edgewood
Date: February 23
Subject: Steve the Audiologist
Penelope,
I’m so sorry about the play and the boy. It sounds as though he wasn’t a good fit for you anyway. Your Flower Girl #1 outshines any Eliza Doolittle, I am certain. Men are so fickle; that is why I feel all the more resolute in my choosiness. Especially after he-who-left-me-at-the-altar (HWLMATA). And why not? If I’m almost perfectly content on my own, why would I long for halfway content with another person JUST to claim I have a boyfriend? No, singleness (with all of my fictional friends) is preferable over a poor choice.
As ridiculous as Josie thinks it is, I’ve always found a lot of truth in romantic fiction. What’s wrong with expecting a man to treat a woman well? To share excellent conversations? To have similar likes—even unusual ones? To experience mutual respect and humor? Why do those kinds of things seem more frequent in popular novels and Hallmark movies than in real life? Is it wrong to wait for a relationship like that?
I know in-person relationships haven’t been my forte, especially the ones Josie chooses, so maybe this online thing DOES have some perks. I think this is Josie’s seventh blind date for me in three months. Seventh! I am NOT that desperate.
As far as Steve the Audiologist goes? Medical encyclopedias. Those are the books he collects. And though I find historical books, of any persuasion, valuable and worthy of protection, I never imagined I’d meet a man who enjoyed discussing the facts within a century-old medical book ad nauseam.
Tell me, Penelope, am I as overbearing as that when I discuss my fictional loves? Please say no. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the suffix “itis” more times within a thirty-minute conversation in my whole life. This is not what I want for my future.
Josie has already messaged me and I can’t bear to answer her. Do you think I should pretend to be sick to avoid seeing her at church? No, I suppose not. If I am to be anything like my sword-wielding Éowyn, I must act brave enough to meet my pregnant, misled, matchmaking cousin face-to-face. But Steve the Audiologist? Has my vibrant life of fictional wonders dissolved into the choice between spinsterhood and medical encyclopedias?
Izzy
PS: Sea urchins have no discernible face and can live up to two hundred years. I don’t think there is a direct correlation between those two things. I just find them interesting.
From: Josephine Martin
To: Izzy Edgewood
Date: February 24
Subject: Stop ignoring me
Izzy,
I know you are ignoring me. Steve told Patrick that he enjoyed your dinner together, though you were a quiet date. Oh, why do you resort to your shy self with everyone except our family? You are much more interesting when you talk instead of sit there like a statue. No wonder strangers think you are aloof! Do you remember how long it took me to convince the youth pastor at church that you were not mute? You say it was because he wouldn’t let you get a word in, but I don’t believe you. I had no problem speaking to him at all. It just required a little extra volume.
It’s one thing to be a good listener. It’s quite another to not respond at all except with those large, unsettling eyes of yours. You must get over this shyness and force yourself to engage in others’ lives for your future’s sake, Izzy. Regular people tend to talk about more things than books, movies, and the pleasure of nature. Maybe you could find a book on audiology? Or golf?
Josephine
PS: I know I will see you at the library fundraiser. You can’t ignore me there.
Text from Izzy to Josephine: Steve the Audiologist had a very fine nose.
* * *
Heart-to-Heart
Date: February 26
Izzy-for-now(?),
Blue mountains? Are they cold? Sad? (So sorry. Very bad pun.) I’m afraid my conversations improve with familiarity, though it takes some time to get beyond the notoriously imbecilic initiation or my unnerving silence (for fear of sounding imbecilic, I resort to speechlessness). My mother refers to my awkwardness as “lovely” and “an acquired taste,” but mothers are required to say such things, I’m told.
I remember seeing sepia-colored, jagged mountains when I studied for a year in California, but blue ones? Now I’m intrigued.
We have beautiful mountains here. Most are eternally green. Very Shire-like. But I agree about natural light and a window view. I am currently renovating my own place and one of my goals is to ensure I wake to a view to help start my day with a proper perspective. As Keats said, “The poetry of earth is never dead,” and there is something inspiring about seeing the world around us in all its beauty, isn’t there?
As far as Argos, I feel he will live up to his mythical namesake in speed, if nothing else.
Do you have other favorite books besides Tolkien’s classic?
Brodie
PS: Tolkien is enough to study for a lifetime, but there are so many great books to enjoy and I get the sense you’re a kindred spirit in that way.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Luke Edgewood
Date: February 27
Subject: Josie at work
Never mind my previous question for “my friend.” I’ve decided to end all communication. He quoted Keats and called me a kindred spirit.
It’s a trap.
Izzy
PS: Josie is behind it all. I can smell her Rose d’Amour from here.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Penelope Edgewood
Date: February 27
Subject: It’s all a trap
Penelope,
I’ve decided to end all of my communication on Heart-to-Heart. How silly I’ve been! I’d actually begun to look forward to Brodie’s messages, checking as soon as I got home from work and smiling when his name popped up in my account, just like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail.
And then Brodie quoted Keats. And referred to his own social awkwardness . . . and I knew it all had to be some horrible farce.
I can’t do it anymore. It’s too perfect. Good, single men don’t join online dating communities, do they? And quote Keats and call me a kindred spirit?
So the only options are that he’s a fraud OR Josie has played some horrible trick on me to get me to fall in love with medical encyclopedias and fine noses. Do pregnant women become more ruthless as their babies grow? And if she’s having twins, does that mean she becomes doubly ruthless?
I suppose I should try another date with Steve. At least he reads. The three previous dates she set me up with hadn’t picked up a book (other than comic books) in years. Besides, he’s an audiologist. He ought to be a good listener, right?
Izzy
PS: Evergreen mountains? I looked up geography with evergreen mountains and there aren’t any in the United States. Do you think he’s lying? Josie has a lot of explaining to do when I see her at the library fundraiser tomorrow. How on earth could she pretend with such . . . believability? Do you remember when she was in the church Christmas play? She had trouble making the innkeeper's wife sound remotely authentic!
PPS: Sea urchins do not have brains. I’m not sure what to think about that.
From: Josephine Martin
To: Izzy Edgewood
Date: February 28
Subject: What is wrong with you?
Izzy,
You did not act like yourself at the library fundraiser. I appreciate your special attention to me and Patrick (the cushion on my chair was a nice touch), although I can’t help but think something is very wrong. I could tell you were trying hard to be talkative, even to Steve, but your heart wasn’t in it. Was the turnout for the fundraiser not what you’d expected? Mother said it was the largest the library had in its history, which is in no small part due to you. You have so many wonderful talents that go unseen.
Are you in love? Are you a sulky sort of in-love person? It doesn’t become you at all. Your smile takes on some sort of dangerous tenseness like a mad dog. Patrick did not seem to notice, but I did.
And I’m still not sure who you were talking about when you mentioned my friend Brodie? I have no friends named Brodie. Patrick has one named Bradley, if you’ll remember. I tried to set him up with you two months ago, but you had an aversion to his cologne and his propensity for wearing waders.
Are you having second thoughts about him? I must say I prefer Steve to Bradley.
Love,
Josephine
PS: If you continue to look pale, I’m going to be forced to come visit you and personally make sure you’re eating.
* * *
Heart-to-Heart
Date: March 1
I saw your profile picture on Heart-to-Heart. You are so cool. I’ve never seen anyone look so much like a real movie character before. You are awesome. I’d love to chat with you.
Marcus
* * *
Heart-to-Heart
Date: March 1
Marcus,
I think you may be too young for this web community.
Izzy
From: Luke Edgewood
To: Izzy Edgewood
Date: March 1
Subject: Re: Josie at work
Izzy,
What does Keats have to do with anything? This “friend” of yours would allow a dead writer to dictate her future? I think your friend is made of stronger and wiser stuff than that. If I recall correctly, kindred spirits are worth knowing.
Luke
From: Penelope Edgewood
To: Izzy Edgewood
Date: March 2
Subject: Puns & profile pics
Izzy,
I know you are depressed when you begin making horrible puns. I’m studying for an exam right now and will write more later.
I will say that the most ruthless acts I’ve noticed in Josephine lately have been about food, so I think you may be safe with Keats and Heart-to-Heart. What if Brodie is exactly who he seems to be? You once told me that authenticity is one of the most beautiful characteristics of a person. I’ve not seen a lot of it on the university scene, except when people are intoxicated or sleep-deprived. Oh, and also my drama professor, Dr. Lincoln—no one can wear that shade of pink without being completely authentic.
However, I don’t want my only moments of authenticity to be while intoxicated (which has never happened, BTW) or when sleep-deprived. Now that I think about it, I don’t want my most authentic self to be the one that comes out when I’m sleep deprived. I think I’m more like a Living Dead personality.
But anyway, isn’t loving someone being comfortable with who they are by being exactly who you are? What a wonderful idea . . . and definitely not seen in the drama department often (Dr. Lincoln excluded).
Oh, I need to run!
Penelope
PS: I noticed you changed your profile picture to one of those old-fashioned authors. Why would you do that? Isn’t that the author who cut off her ear and mailed it to someone? You are not being authentic, Izzy. Or at least I hope you’re not. Your ears happen to be one of your best features. I hide mine with my hair.
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Luke Edgewood
Date: March 2
Subject: This day we fight
You are right, as usual.
This friend is made of stronger stuff.
Keats is no match for her.
I will come to the bottom of this like an impassioned and somewhat irrational Nancy Drew, or even better, Miss Marple.
Izzy
From: Izzy Edgewood
To: Penelope Edgewood
Date: March 2
Subject: Glorious authenticity
Penelope,
I have decided to shower Brodie (or Josie, as the case may be) with the real Isabelle Edgewood. Why not? It will teach Josie a lesson and hopefully curtail any of her future matchmaking madness.
This day I fight!
Besides, the one sure way to run a fraud away is to beat him with . . . utter authenticity. Frightening authenticity.
Quote Keats?
Oh, I can do so much better than that.
Izzy the Valiant
PS: I have no knowledge of an author who cut off her ear and mailed it to someone. You are referring to an artist. The profile photo is of Charlotte Brontë. It’s my attempt to garner my strength for the verbal tsunami to come.
Chapter 3
* * *
Heart-to-Heart
Date: March 3
Brodie,
Do I enjoy other books besides Tolkien? Does Charles Dickens love commas?
As Louisa May Alcott said, “She is too fond of books, and it has turned her brain.” I’m afraid my cousin Josephine would agree. But I believe books have only served to turn my brain in a direction of constant wonder, appreciation, and imagination. You see, I’ve never traveled very far from home. The thought of flying terrifies me. But books have provided me continual journeys and adventures that my bank account could never finance. Besides my faith, stories became the catalyst to draw me out of the heartache and lostness I felt from my parents’ deaths when I was twelve. They loved books, and somehow I felt them near me when I opened the cover to another new story, as if they journeyed alongside me. As false as the Mirror of Erised, I know, but the idea brought, and continues to bring, a special kind of comfort that nothing else has. I don’t know if you can genetically acquire a love for books, but if so, I was doubly impacted. That should give you fair warning enough, but I have more.
Of course, I love nature too. I find in it (as so many authors describe much better than me) a remarkable and changing beauty, an ability to reset my perspective, and a reminder of a plan much bigger than my own. Though I tend to enjoy it more from a window, a car, or a front porch, at least once a week I venture out of my “reclusive” cave and breathe in the free air of a hike and the all-encompassing awareness of not being alone in the world.
Anne Frank, a very nonfiction person, captures it best, I think:
“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.”
Doesn’t she say it so well? I feel certain my dear cousin Josie could benefit from recognizing the grandness of God’s plan in His children’s lives, instead of feeling compelled to dramatically and too frequently intervene in the lives of others who are mostly content. How can I feel alone for too long when there is such a world!!
Stories have been powerful agents in my heart my whole life. Yes, I’m an introvert. My cousin might even refer to me as a recluse, but that’s an exaggeration. I just find that the world and wonder of fiction provide ample imagination for a large portion of my life. Yes, I love being with my family (most of the time, but as with all family dynamics, some occasions and conversations are happier than others), but I am not a fan of my cousin’s constant matchmaking schemes because, besides being an incredibly uncomfortable experience, they always seem to prove my cousin’s thorough misunderstanding of who I am.
For example, she’s not chosen one man, in all of her attempts, who is bookish in the least little bit. Not one can discuss the depths of human depravity shown in Frankenstein, or the excellence of Jane Eyre’s upright and determined spirit, or the power of friendship on full display in The Lord of the Rings books.
I thought, perhaps, when she’d matched me with a youth pastor from a neighboring town, that I’d at least have someone with which to discuss thoughtful theology and the beautiful way in which God, creation, and love are displayed in fiction (both in written form and cinematically), but no, the poor man insisted on discussing politics, and not just any form of politics, but church politics. Clearly, there was some latent hostility rising from his previous church position, which made it perfectly clear this man was not for me.
I recognize my romantic history is a patchwork of mismatches and ill-fated decisions, which may lead my cousin to intervene, but I can assure you that if I’d known Dean only wanted help with passing his literature courses and he-who-left-me-at-the-altar only wanted a position with Uncle Herman’s business instead of a lifelong commitment, I would have chosen differently.
Despite my family’s usual disagreement (except for Luke and Penelope), I find, in fiction, remarkably accurate portrayals of the human heart, for good or ill. I learn and grow from what I read. I see in myself the pride of Lizzie Bennet, the misperceptions of Anne Shirley, the arrogance of Dorian Gray . . . and seek grace to become a better person without the same heartaches.
So, there you have it. If anyone in the grand, wide world is going to build a friendship with me, they must understand that they share my attention with hundreds of books, thousands of fictional people, a dog named Samwise (who is much more social than his owner), a love for nature, a devout faith, and a deep, though faltering, desire to become a better human in the small part of the world where I’ve been placed.
