To Love Again

By John (Jack) Callahan

TO FIND A NEW LOVE IS A SPLENDID EVENT
A NEW LOVE COULD ARRIVE WITH A GENTLE BREEZE.
OR ARRIVE JUST BEFORE THE LAST RAYS OF A BEAUTIFUL SUNSET.

A LOVE IS MEANT TO LAST A LIFETIME, BUT WHAT IF IT DOESNT?
SUPPOSE ONE OF THE PARTNERS UNEXPECTANTLY PASSES
THE REMAINING PARTNER IS SHOULDERED WITH YEARS FILLED WITH DESPAIR AND GRIEF.

TO LOVE AGAINis all about how Clint Watson accepted his partners youthful passing. His grief lasted far beyond normal, and it became almost impossible for him to let his love for Angela go.

As the pages fold forwardClint meets and is attracted to a most unusual woman. He strives to make his newfound love with Elizabeth Madison a lasting affair, but unusual events occur causing his plans to run eschew.

A second true love comes by so rarely. This story chronicles Clints best efforts to make his second love as precious as his first.

TO LOVE AGAIN is a page-turner, and a love story worth remembering.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524675110

John (Jack) Callahan

John (Jack) Callahan author of eight previous books My Slice of Life ** Success in Motion ** Locker # 12 ** Theo Love’s me ** The General is Missing ** Emily ** Valiant Journey ** The Princeton Connection ** And now…To Love Again ** About the author… A survivor of the Great Depression, a Navy veteran of World War II, a self-starter, an entrepreneur, a world traveler, and a family man. John now shares his adventurous life by way of his novels.

Book preview

To Love Again

JOHN (JACK) CALLAHAN

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2017 John (Jack) Callahan. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/07/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5246-7512-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-7510-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-7511-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017903526

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

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

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

ALSO BY JOHN (JACK) CALLAHAN

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MY SLICE OF LIFE

SUCCESS IN MOTION

LOCKER # 12

THEO LOVES ME

THE GENERAL IS MISSING

EMILY

THE PRINCETON CONNECTION

VALIANT JOURNEY

…. AND NOW….

TO LOVE AGAIN

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Dedicated with love to….

Frances my wife, sons and extended family

To love again…

Prologue

TIME PASSES BY SO UNNOTICED… season after season eclipse, and the years vanish into obscurity. Angela’s illness claimed her eight years ago leaving Clint Wilson’s life in shambles. During the years following her passing, he hadn’t been able to return to the person or life he lived before. Previously, his life as a history professor, and hers as a dress designer, was a life envied by their many friends.

Years passed… Clint sat in front of his computer, dejected and unsure about how to manage his future without Angela’s love to guide him. He’d tried various ways to live his life without Angela by his side, but he always slid back into the lonesome life he resigned his future to live. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years without a change in his behavior. Emptiness dwelled in his heart, and insecurity filled his mind. As he hadn’t dressed for days, he fidgeted with his pajama collar while seeking an answer to his anguished downfall. His life as a Stanford history professor was now a chapter in his past.

Thinking back… It all happened when Clint requested a sabbatical extension to continue care for his dying Angela. While flailing his arms in an effort to make a reasonable case, he accidentally struck the Chancellor’s face, knocking his glasses to the ground where they broke into countless pieces.

Clint attempted to pick up them up while apologizing for the accident, but the Chancellor would have no part of it. At that defining moment he realized he was no longer the mild, self-controlled person Angela married years before, but a self-deprived, angry, and impatient man doing his best to make it through another day. He winced at the Chancellor’s angry parting words, You’re no longer welcome to teach at this university.

His appointment to a Professorship at Stanford was the pinnacle of a journey that began back in high school. Over the years the Chancellor’s cruel words continued to resonate through his tired mind. Those harsh words ultimately ended his Stanford career.

As time passed, the impact of that afternoon continued to ripple through his mind. He often thought about the day he left the Chancellor’s office. It was raining rather hard, and he was well soaked by the time he reached his car. He recalled the events so easily, and often wondered why he couldn’t shed this bad experience. It happened this way: His pulse jittered somewhere in the 160 range. He cleared his throat in an attempt to settle his frayed nerves. It continued to rain rather hard as he sat alone in his car, too upset to move. An hour passed before he gathered his wits together to accept what happened with the Chancellor. After he started the car and backed out of his parking space he realized his bleary eyes were not clear enough to drive safely. He pulled back into the parking space, wiped his eyes dry, and sat in silence for a while before starting the car again. When he arrived home he rushed to the couch to smother his disappointment. Angela ill, his job gone, and he was now lost in a sea of despair. What now? He asked himself?

Years passed…before he gained enough confidence to once again seek a position to teach history at a major university. Searching on his computer netted him nothing but disappointment. Unbeknown to him, his former Chancellor had posted negative remarks throughout the academic world about his fitness to teach at any level, and that he shouldn’t be hired under any circumstances because of his violent nature.

His mind focused on a single goal—secure a Professorship at a major university somewhere in California. Just to live in his home and teach again at a major university were his ultimate goals.

When friends came to visit the once renowned history professor, they found a floundering man lost in a quagmire of depression, and a person un-willing to accept a new way of life. Over time their visits became less frequent, and soon they quit calling altogether, except for his long-term friend from elementary school. Harper Ellison wouldn’t accept the daily rejections from Clint. Harper owned a new car dealership, and for months he coaxed Clint to work as a salesperson in his showroom, but Clint wouldn’t leave his home to consider doing anything except to teach at a major university. He’d worked hard to get his Doctorate to teach history, his one and only true passion, and no matter what, he needed to follow the passion that drove him to become a professor.

Frustrated and angry at not being able to secure a Professorship at a major University in California, he finally gave in to Harper’s daily harassments.

Clint was hired as a salesman by Harper Ellison the owner of the dealership instead of by the General Manager, causing a conflict between the two men. An ongoing battle continued unabated between the two men. Instead of Clint learning the trade to become a better salesperson, he spent hours recalling his college professorship at Stanford. Their daily interchanges grew more heated, where in time, they could no longer talk civility to each other.

When evening came and he returned to an empty house and a TV dinner, he explored ways to change his depressed life. He frequently asked himself, Could I love another woman as I loved my beloved Angela, and if so, how could I go about finding a well-educated, bright, athletic, sophisticated, nurturing person, as endearing as Angela, or was this pie-in-the-sky thinking burdening my mind and soul. Or would I continue the lonesome life I’ve lived since her passing?

His mind sought solutions to change the misguided life he’d allowed himself to slip into. Two in the morning, three in the afternoon, or the wakened hours after midnight, the question of how to manage his life roamed unchecked through his mind. If so, how could he find an answer to those ever-lasting questions? Could he continue to live his lonesome life— or would he be brave enough to venture out of his closeted world to seek the love of another, and if so, would he have the courage to take on such an adventurous undertaking?

Months pass… the questions about his future continually sought an answer, and remained upfront in his mind. Waking during the night, pacing from room to room while seeking a way to change the dull life he’d mired himself into since Angela’s passing, his evenings and nights became unbearable. He became a hermit without realizing it. Deep within him, he needed to accept the desire to have another companion, and then to move on with a new venturous life; however, his love for Angela lingered within him, making it almost impossible to let her spirit go, and to accept a new companion in her place.

His highly educated mind couldn’t find an answer to his ongoing dilemma. A plan was needed—basically; was he capable of entering into a relationship with another woman, and if so, how would he go about meeting a woman much like Angela? He thought, maybe I am setting the barrier too high to find another woman as engaging as Angela. His marriage to Angela came about by a happenstance meeting. They met at a time when they both were seeking intimate companionship, and they became immediately enthralled with each other. It was a most unusual experience—it wasn’t planned—it just happened.

Most of Clint’s friends had drifted away after Angela first became ill. Truthfully, they were mostly Angela’s friends and not his own. Had it taken him this long to accept the simple truth that he didn’t have many friends, and no women friends at all?

Harper’s encouragement no longer motivated him. He went to work with a chip on his shoulder and every person he encountered left him with a bitter feeling. He asked for a transfer into the office or some other position besides being a salesman, but it never worked for him. He always ended up in the showroom working for the Sales Manager who continually found fault with his approach to the incoming customers.

Chapter One

AND THE STORY CONTINUES…Since Angela’s passing Clint Wilson filled his daylight hours as a high-priced car salesman, and his evenings were filled with despair and longing for his beloved Angela. No matter how unsuccessful he was as a salesperson, Harper, his childhood friend, encouraged him to improve his sales techniques and to move on with his personal life. However, selling unneeded costly features to add profits for the dealership was revolting to his nature, and his plan to find a woman friend, someone as perfect as Angela, wasn’t happening.

Unable to reengage in his most loved occupation—being a history professor at a major University— he spent countless evening hours on his computer seeking his most desired teaching position, only to receive denial after denial for his efforts. Not understanding why he was being turned down so frequently just added to his determination.

Selling new cars became a way to make a living, a way to get out of the house, and a way to leave his loneliness behind during his work hours. Trained by the General Manager to add value to the sales ticket, Clint loathed being a salesperson and considered it merely an in-between job until he could find the teaching position he so desired. Each day became more laborious.

When the showroom was without customers, Clint’s mind would drift to his life as a history professor at Stanford—a profession he felt born to achieve, and a passion originating in high school when his history teacher took a special interest in him. Throughout his college years his parents patiently paid his way through eight years of schooling while overlooking his wayward indiscretions along the way. His Doctorate degree enabled him to apply for a college professorship at a number of major universities, and when he was accepted as a history professor at Stanford, his ultimate dream became a reality.

It was Monday, the slowest day of the week, and nearing the end of the month when the push from his Sales Manager became intolerable. Clint hadn’t sold a single car during the month, and earlier in the day, he and his Sales Manager had engaged in a shouting fracas over how to approach prospective customers entering the showroom. After the argument reached a stalemate, the Sales Manager gave Clint a final ultimatum: Sell three cars before the end of the month— otherwise, he was fired regardless of what the owner had to say.

It was his turn to approach the first customer of the day. Still fuming over losing the argument, Clint sipped his coffee while contemplating a change in his customer approach—an approach completely different from what his manager approved. The showroom door opened, and an attractive middle-age woman approached the first car in the showroom. In the past he always greeted each customer in the same manner— a huge smile with his hand extended to greet the incoming customer—a greeting the Sales Manager insisted he use, but it hadn’t worked for him. At the last minute, and for some unknown reason, he decided to change tactics.

He approached the customer with his hands in his pockets and casually remarked, Since you’re our first customer of the day don’t expect us to give you a free car— instead, I’ll let you pick the outside and inside colors without an up-charge. Consider yourself fortunate. I don’t do this for everyone.

You will, will you? How does a former Stanford professor lower himself to selling cars?

Beg your pardon? Allow me to introduce myself or would you rather see another salesperson, perhaps a lady salesperson? My name is Clint Wilson.

I know who you are, and you’ll never sell a car using that lame approach. You were a good history professor, and I question if you are well- suited for being a car salesman, especially using that casual approach on me.

How is it you know me? Clint inquired.

You were the only professor who ever gave me a grade above a B. I certainly couldn’t forget your generosity, could I? Oh God, you don’t recognize me, do you? I hope I don’t show my age that much.

No, no, you’re a very handsome woman. You got me, sorry, I don’t recognize you.

Beth Madison. You were my history professor ten years ago, or was it eleven, at Stanford. Does it ring a bell now?

I’ve been through a lot during those years, sorry it doesn’t.

I’m here to buy a car this morning. If you have one the right color and with all of the bells and whistles I’m looking for, then you’ve made the first sale of the day, or is it the first sale of the month?

You’ve got me. Is it that obvious? True, I haven’t made a sale this month, but maybe you can change my fortune today. I’ll show you around and you could tell me what you are looking for, and I will find the right car just for you. Let’s start with the outside color. I suggest a red exterior with a black interior would best suit you.

You’re right on with the colors so far, but how did you know?

I’m psychic—I guess? She laughed. Clint forced a smile.

With that in mind, here’s a list of special features I need.

Clint scanned her list and called a driver to take them to the storage lot. Not much was said on the way, but Clint noticed Ms. Madison’s perfume was the same Angela used for years, and she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

Here we are. This car was made for you. It has everything on your list and it’s the right color inside and out. He handed her the keys and asked, Would you like to take it for a spin?

Sure. You may ride along if you promise not to give me a sales talk on the way. I know it’s hard for a salesman to be quiet very long, but spare me, please.

They got in and Beth started the car and tromped on the gas, pinning Clint to his seat. He looked at her, her green eyes sparkling, her red hair blowing away from her face, and she was grinning from ear to ear. Clint’s smile widened too.

What was that all about? Clint inquired.

That’s the way to put your former history professor in his place.

Clint laughed. I’m sure you’ve been waiting a long time to do that.

Life is good, and I enjoy each day as it comes along. How about you, do you enjoy each day too?

He paused while thinking, but couldn’t answer. His thoughts turned to the last time he laughed out loud— it had been so long he couldn’t remember.

I wanted to see if you had a sense of humor, and by the looks of it— you do. I mostly remember the corny jokes you told the class to get us to loosen up and listen to your lecture.

My wife Angela would pass them on to me from her work. They were that bad, huh?

Your sense of humor lightened up the subject quite a bit. It got me to pay attention to your lectures.

We’re back. I enjoyed the ride with you.

You’ve sold me, I’ll take it.

I didn’t really sell you this car, did I? You sold yourself, or was it because I hadn’t sold a car this month?

Not true. Don’t make me out as an angel, because I’m not one of those holier than thou people. You picked the colors for me. I’d made up my mind about the extras before I came in.

I did, didn’t I? How can you say you’ll take it when I haven’t told you the price yet? You appear to be the type who would grind me down, and then walk out of the showroom leaving me in trouble with my Manager.

There you go not talking like a salesman. By the way, I’m not the type you have molded me into. That’s the word you used, isn’t it? I’m not the haggler you accused me of being. Everyone needs to make a profit, otherwise—they would go out of business. I’m confident you will give me the best price possible.

You should be the salesperson here, not me. You can count on the best price ever if you’ll come to my place for dinner this evening.

What did you say?

I invited you for dinner at my place this evening.

Well, you’re beginning to sound like a Don Juan instead of a car salesman. How do you know I’m not married or engaged?

I noticed you’re not wearing a ring, and I haven’t remarried or even gone on a date since my wife passed. I’ll admit, it was a bit forward of me to ask, but I did give you a good grade in your history class, and I’m about to give you the best price ever for your newly purchased car.

There you go again sounding like a car salesman. Give me your address and I’ll be there at seven. You better be a good cook or…

Or what? Clint laughed. Are you trying to scare me? What’s your favorite dish, and I’ll tell you if I can cook it or not.

I enjoy food, especially home cooking. Fix it and I’ll eat it. Finish your job so I can leave.

Good, because I can only cook a few things.

Clint had the car washed and the paper work finished by the time her purchase was returned to the showroom. He slid the finished papers across the desk for Ms. Madison’s inspection. Her forehead furrowed as she read through the figures. Clint braced for a rebuttal.

Those extras are more pricey than I thought. Oh well, it is what I wanted, so I’ll have to pay the piper.

She looked up and smiled. A radiant smile that warmed Clint from head to toe. Being unsure of himself, he fumbled with his pen while not being aware of how to respond.

You can smile back, it’s okay. I said, I’ll buy the car. Call me Beth now that we know each other again. Besides, I’m your first and only customer who bought a car from you this month.

You’re belittling me now. I admit to my salesman faults, but other than that, I’m a good guy.

I know you are, otherwise, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Your price is a little more than my bank authorized. May I write a personal check for the balance? Would that be satisfactory with you?

By all means. It appears you’ve bought yourself a car. Do you have another car to trade in? If so, I could make it well worth your while.

No, I don’t. All I need is your address for dinner, then I’m out of here.

Clint’s invitation for dinner was a lark, but she took him up on it. He nervously wrote his address and phone number on the back of his sales card, and helped her inside her new car. She drove away.

Hours passed and Clint spent his time fantasizing about the upcoming dinner with this very smart, good-looking woman. His manager interrupted his thoughts.

Clint! Quit daydreaming. You’ve sold your first car in a month, or did the customer sell herself? Remember, you’ll have to sell two more before tomorrow night or you’re outta here, and where is your paper on the sale?

You can’t wait to see me gone. You fire me and you may be firing yourself. I’d slow up with your threats because I’ve heard them all before.

We have hard-fast rules around here and nobody and that includes the golden boy is allowed to break them. You know all price considerations must be signed off by me or the General manager, and I haven’t see any of the paper work on your sale. You may think you’re someone special, but I think you’re a lousy salesperson. I’m supposed to approve all sales before the customer leaves the showroom, or did you forget that? Now, get off your butt and greet this next customer. We’ll settle this matter later.

Greet him yourself! I’m done here. I’ve never liked this job, and I don’t like you riding me all of the time. Take my badge—and shove it, I’m leaving.

Clint walked out of the front door with his head held high. This moment had been coming for some time. He wasn’t cut out to be a car salesperson and Beth Madison recognized his faults in less than a minute. He sat in his car cooling off before he started the engine. Then the thought struck him full force. What had he done? And what would he do now?

What now? He mused.

He stopped at a stoplight. It was then he thought about dinner with Beth Madison. He must decide what to fix. His cell rang.

Clint, it’s Beth Madison. I won’t be able to have dinner with you tonight.

What! You promised.

I know. Sorry, something’s come up.

I’m a poor cook anyway.

Are you saying you want to call off our date?

I didn’t think it was a date, just dinner at my place. You know, a chance to get to know each other. Maybe, make plans for a future date.

You want to date me?

Where are we going with this conversation? Are you enjoying yourself?

I’m having a little fun. Why are you so uptight?

I’m a lousy cook. I invited you thinking you would turn me down. We could meet somewhere. A restaurant of your choice, or one of my favorites.

Okay, that suites me, I’ll be in touch. Click.

Clint closed his cell, disappointed, but relieved he wouldn’t have to cook dinner. The thought of his conversation with Beth had put him back on his heels, but it also lightened his spirits. He drove home with a smile pasted on his face, and a happy feeling in his heart. It had been a long time since he had an interesting conversation with a woman. A woman who was sharp with her words and appeared to be quite intelligent, and someone who wanted to date him.

Days passed, then weeks with no word from Beth Madison. While he was making his bed or washing the dishes, his mind visited her interesting face. She was an intelligent woman with a happy spirit. He desperately needed a woman in his life. She was the only woman he knew, and she wanted to have a date with him.

In the meantime, Clint applied for teaching jobs at seven small colleges, and during that time he was living off the insurance proceeds he received from Angela’s passing. Each interview he applied in person, and they always came back with the same answer— ‘We have no openings at this time.’

Meanwhile Clint’s loneliness continued. But then his house phone rang. He rushed to the phone, thinking it was one of the colleges he’d applied for.

Hello Clint, it’s Beth Madison. Remember me? Sorry it’s been a while, hasn’t it? How about dinner this evening?

Dinner? This evening?

Yes, we did talk about it a while back.

That would be great! It’s good to hear from you. We could meet at seven. There is a low price restaurant on Vermont and Ashley streets by the name of Mike’s Place. Do you think you could find it?

Of course, do you think I’m a country girl right off the farm? I’ll see you at seven. Click.

They make the best Irish stew, because I eat there quite often. I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s the only thing Mike serves, Clint said before he realized she had already signed off.

Clint finished shaving and splashed a generous amount of good smelling after-shave lotion on his cleanly shaven face, hoping Beth would notice. He viewed himself in the mirror— a huge smile erupted—one he hadn’t seen for a long, long time. He was going on a date— a date with an attractive woman. He arrived at the restaurant early and selected a booth off the main aisle and waited.

Seven o’clock came and went—Beth didn’t show. Clint’s breathing accelerated. Was she coming, or not? His mind went crazy with questions. Another ten minutes passed. It was almost 7:30 when Beth appeared in the doorway. He waved to her, and when she saw him, she rushed down the aisle like a breath of fresh air, youthful in the spring of her step, coupled with a radiant smile directed toward him.

Sorry! I received a last minute call I couldn’t turn down. I work on my own, you know.

Clint, unsure how to greet his date, hesitated, then positioned himself to greet her with a kiss on her cheek or by extending his arms to hug her.

Neither came to pass, because she immediately sat down. Confused with the modern way of greeting a woman he reached across the table to momentarily hold her hand. She responded with her hand and a huge smile.

Did you just step out of the shower, or is it your after-shave lotion?

You noticed, huh?

Couldn’t help. Did you use the whole bottle? Beth laughed.

Clint blushed.

Didn’t mean anything by that. I like it. Well, we’re finally having the dinner you promised way back when.

I thought you moved on and forgot about me. It has been some time.

A girl has to make a living. Yes, it has been a while, hasn’t it? Sorry about that!

Tell me, what kind of work do you do?

I’m a International courier. I travel a lot, and do whatever needs to be done to make a living. It keeps me quite busy. It’s something I enjoy, and it is a good way to make a living.

Does it pay well enough for you to live on? I would think the field would be overcrowded with individuals who want to travel.

Live on? You’re funny. Maybe you should wake up to the world. I do all right on my own. I’ve been at it for some time now. I generally make myself available 24 hours a day. Shall we order? I’m famished.

Of course. Mike doesn’t have a menu. He only serves Irish stew. I eat here quite often because I don’t like to cook, and it gives me a chance to get out of the house.

Clint raised his arm for service.

It’s so funny.

What’s so funny? Mike not having a menu, or my not getting out of the house?

God, you’re uptight. You take every word I mutter as a put down. Let me rephrase. I didn’t mean anything bad.

"Forget it. It’s true. I’m edgy these days.