Eli's Present: The Do-Over

By Scott Jameson Sanders

ELI'S PRESENT is the story about a trouble middle-aged man who prays for a second chance at life. Upon waking up the next morning, Eli finds himself back in college, but with the wisdom and memories that he had from his previous life. He vows to make the most of this opportunity by making better decisions and correcting many of his past wrongs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887936369

Scott Jameson Sanders

Scott Jameson Sanders is the author of six published books including "The Box Salesman", "The House of Remember When", "Call Me Cecilia", "Driving Through Shaker Heights" and "The Point of Life". He is a musician and an avid pickleball enthusiast. Scott has worked in the food packaging business his entire career and is the composer of over 200 original songs. He lives in the Cleveland Ohio area and has two daughters and a very sweet dog named Ginger.

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Eli's Present

The Do-Over

Scott Jameson Sanders

Copyright © 2023 Scott Jameson Sanders

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88793-623-9 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88793-636-9 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Prologue: The Do-Over

The Do-Over

Chapter 1

The Flight

Chapter 2

The Beginning Again

Chapter 3

The Comedian

Chapter 4

The Hookup

Chapter 5

The Breakup

Chapter 6

The Divorce

Chapter 7

The Party

Chapter 8

The Hangover

Chapter 9

The First Date

Chapter 10

The Road Trip

Chapter 11

The News

Chapter 12

The Confession

Chapter 13

The Dinner

Chapter 14

The First Meeting

Chapter 15

The Announcement

Chapter 16

The Kissing Disease

Chapter 17

The Big News

Chapter 18

The Arch

Chapter 19

The Accident

Chapter 20

The New Job

Chapter 21

The Florist

Chapter 22

The Reunion

Chapter 23

The Therapist

Chapter 24

The Wedding

Chapter 25

The Rejection

Chapter 26

The Goodbye

Chapter 27

The Greatest

Chapter 28

The Priest

Chapter 29

The Return

Chapter 30

The Sleepover

Epilogue: The Toast

The Toast

Characters

About the Author

Prologue: The Do-Over

The Do-Over

Throughout my life, I have pondered the existence of God. Like everyone I know (and maybe that means everyone in the world), God has been a focus of exploration for them. Does anyone really know God and what He is like and how He feels about us? My parents were Episcopalian, which is an English version of the Catholic Church. Apparently, Henry VIII wanted a divorce, but the Roman Catholic pope wouldn't approve of it. So he declared himself to be the English pope and dismissed his first wife. As bad as that may sound, he went on to divorce another wife and behead two others. Henry VIII was a bit of a jerk, but he was also a very devout Christian and even wrote religious songs. (I think he is supposed to have written Greensleeves, but that sounds wrong to me. I love that hymn.)

Other than Jesus, a lot of the heroes of the Bible were not necessarily always good people. Moses was a murderer (he killed an Egyptian), and so was King David (he killed Bathsheba's husband and then married her). Solomon focused on riches and women despite being the wisest person that ever lived. Noah even got drunk and slept with his own daughters. Yet all these guys are profoundly praised in the Old Testament, and we declare that Jesus was a direct descendant of David through Joseph (even though God was Jesus's real father, not Joseph).

There are different versions of creation in the Bible, and even the gospels provide alternate accounts of the same event. All this is puzzling, but the Bible remains the best-selling book of all time. To have survived that long, there has to be something special about that book, but it seems to me that you have to study it pretty hard to make sense of it at times. And I haven't done that.

So most of my life has been spent wondering who or what God is and how I am supposed to live my life. It seems to me that Christianity makes a lot of sense as Jesus was a pretty cool guy. He loved sinners and talked about how we only have to ask for forgiveness and our sins would be blotted out. That is quite a relief compared to the Hindu alternative of having to come back and live another life as a cow or something like that. But still, the idea of living my life again appealed to me. I always used to think that the sport of golf would be far more fun if you could attempt each shot or putt two times. I used to call this a do-over, and some in golf call it a mulligan. So if you hit your putt too far to the right, you can try again and correct the misjudged alignment and improve the chances of the ball going in the hole the next time.

That's what I often thought about and wished for in my life. If I could only have a second chance at making decisions about love, work, and other things. I had made so many mistakes and poor decisions, and it seemed like they all led to heartache and despair. What if you didn't go right off to college and worked instead for a year or two? What if you had studied harder in school? What if you had gone out with that very nice girl instead of the mean pretty one that you pursued so fervently? You could go on and on, and the idea really appealed to me. It appealed to me so much, in fact, that I prayed many times to God that I would get another chance or a do-over. If given that chance, I would make the best of it and live a better life. That's what I used to think, anyway.

Chapter 1

The Flight

The Boeing 737 was cruising along smoothly at thirty thousand feet. My twin sister, Sarah, and I were sitting in very cramped opposite aisle seats in row 10, and I was drinking my favorite drink, a Dewar's scotch on ice. Sarah was drinking a diet Coke, and we were talking about the upcoming celebration of my father's seventieth birthday. I had packed light for this trip as I didn't intend to stick around for more than two days. But I did have one thing packed that meant a lot to me, and that was the gift I purchased for my dad. It was a Rolex Perpetual Datejust watch that I picked up on one of my trips to Europe that year. I bought it from a small jewelry store in Milan from a genuinely nice saleswoman named Cecilia. The silver watch was a few years old, but it was in good condition, and I knew that my father would be thrilled with it. I even purchased the winding contraption you would need to use when you weren't wearing it. This type of Rolex watch was kinetic and would stop if you let it sit. And I heard that sitting is not a good thing for a Rolex.

What did you get for Dad? Sarah asked as she daintily sipped her diet drink.

I got him a Rolex, I answered proudly.

You did not! Sarah replied in surprise.

I did. I got it in Italy. You can't engrave them as they have this metallic sticker on the bottom. That is the proof you need to know it isn't a knockoff.

Rolex watches, in those days, were copied by the Chinese, and the Asian made time pieces were remarkably similar and good-looking. I had one of those fake ones, and it had a battery in it. You had to open it up to tell that it wasn't real. I paid thirty dollars for it and wore it a lot until it stopped working. The minute hand had also fallen off and was trapped within the crystal facing. I still wore it from time to time just to make people think I could afford a nice watch. But the truth was, I couldn't afford much of anything at that time. I was in between jobs again, and my finances were tight.

How did you afford to get him a Rolex? my sister asked.

It is used, but it still looks good. Dad always wanted a nice watch.

I know, but aren't you close to going through bankruptcy? I mean, I don't mean to be critical here, but you should be conserving your money these days. Don't you think?

It's for his seventieth birthday, Sarah. Come on. It is time to splurge on the old guy. What did you get him?

I got him a dress shirt and a tie.

I took a long sip of my Dewar's as I tried to think of a clever response to this revelation. This is what I came up with: Guess I love Dad a lot more than you.

That was a good one. Sarah had money, and her husband was very successful. This was her second marriage, and I don't know how she landed this guy. He owned a string of hardware stores in the Houston area and did very well for himself. We were both living in a suburb of Houston at that time, and she was not happy with her job situation either. Sarah did not have any children of her own, but her husband, Lawrence Paul, had four from his first two marriages. They were all in their twenties now as Lawrence (or Larry as I called him) was a good ten or eleven years older than Sarah. She never seemed to want kids, so inheriting young adults was okay with her. But I could tell from how she talked about him that this was a loveless marriage. My guess was, they were both lonely and figured, what the heck, might as well be lonely together.

I was in the process of getting divorced myself. My wife of twenty years, Katrina, had recently become involved with another woman. I suspected that she was having an affair, but I was shocked when I learned that her name was Elizabeth. I knew they were close friends, but I had no idea that it went any further than that. Some of my friends said that this was better than discovering she was with another man, but I don't know why they said that. To me, it was the same. She had been unfaithful. But that was true of me too on one occasion, so getting divorced was in the cards for both of us. Thankfully, like Sarah, Katrina and I didn't have children either, and that would hopefully help the separation and divorce go more smoothly.

What's the deal with you and Katrina? Are you guys still living in the same house? my sister asked.

Yeah, I can't afford to move out just yet. But Kat and me are getting along okay. I sleep in the basement, and she and her friend live upstairs.

Elizabeth lives in the house with you? That's fucked up, Elijah.

It isn't so bad. We pretty much stay out of each other's way, and now there is another person to help walk the dogs.

You have dogs?

Yeah, three of them. Little shits. I hate them all. Elizabeth brought them with her. They pee all over the house, and I trip over them constantly. One of them bit me on the face, right here, I said, pointing out the very small wound on my cheek.

Eli, you are awful. I'm sure they are very cute.

Dogs need to be at least fifty pounds to qualify as a real dog. These little boutique dogs are more like gnarly rats. They bark all the time and drive me crazy.

I think a dog would be nice, but Larry hates dogs. So we have cats.

Cats are worse, I said. They don't do anything. I would rather have a rat-dog than a cat.

Our cats are fantastic. We have two Maine Coon cats, and they are huge and hysterical. I love them to death.

Do they still have their claws? I asked.

Yes, why?

Because every time I go to hold a cat with claws, they end up ripping off some part of my shirt or jacket. You should have their paws removed.

You don't remove their paws. Just their claws, Eli.

I know. It would be funny to cut off their paws though. Don't you think?

You have a sick mind. You know that?

I know that.

I ordered another Dewar's from the flight attendant, who gave me a steely look. I think it was my fourth one, and maybe they aren't supposed to serve that many to one person on a short two-hour flight. But I needed them. I had just lost another job because of a cost-consolidation effort at my company. I thought I was doing well at work, but when you are part of the company that has been recently acquired (like mine), your days are often numbered. This was not the first time I was without work. Seemed like every time I was starting to make a good reputation for myself somewhere, I was caught up in some kind of consolidation. And when that happens, your results don't matter. Just the cost savings that can be reported back to the board of directors. I hated my job anyway, so I figured I would look for something else that might suit me better.

So you are still looking for a job? Sarah asked.

Yep, I'm getting close on one, but the market sucks right now. Recession and everything.

There is a recession going on? I had no idea.

Actually, I don't even know what that means, but that's what everyone is saying.

What are you doing for money?

Elizabeth and Kat are handling the mortgage payments, and I am using my retirement funds to get by. I'm almost tapped out but not yet.

They tax you, and you have to pay a penalty on that, right?

Yep, I said, but I have no other money.

Good thing Mom and Dad paid for our flights, Sarah said.

Yeah, I didn't argue with that. Wish they had sprung for first class though.

You are ridiculous.

I know, but with my bum leg, I need the extra space.

What's wrong with your leg?

I was riding my bicycle on the Old Spanish Trail and hit a speed bump and got thrown off, I said as I finished off another Dewar's.

Did you go to the hospital?

No, I went home, but I think I might have broken something.

Go get that checked out. You'll just make it worse.

A broken foot would be the least of my worries right now. I'm in a bit of a funk.

I know. Me too.

What's going on with you, Sarah?

Larry is cheating on me.

Again? I said in surprise. I thought he said he would never—

Once a cheater, always a cheater.

That sucks, sis. Are you going to leave him?

And go where? I'm fucking stuck with him. For better or worse, as they say. And now it is the worse part.

Was it ever for better?

Not really.

Asshole. I never liked him.

Yes, you did. You were always sucking up to him. You were impressed with his money.

That's 'cause I thought he might hire me.

He would never hire you. He won't even hire his own children.

Really? That's brutal.

He is an asshole, Sarah said as she pushed her seat up back into landing position.

That's what I just said.

I know. You are right. He's a cheating shit.

Once a cheater— I said, imitating Sarah's voice inflection.

Well, so are you, you know? You weren't exactly a faithful husband. You were with that woman from your job, right?

That was only one time, I said.

It's still cheating.

Yeah, but in my case, it was because my wife didn't want to have sex anymore. Men need it, you know? We get really grumpy if we don't.

Women need it too, idiot. And Larry and I haven't had sex in years.

The flight attendants attired in their navy-blue uniforms were going through the aisle now taking trash and telling us to put our tray tables up and seats backs. I don't really understand why they do that. If the plane is going to crash, how is having your seat in the upright and locked position going to help? And I would rather the tray table just slice me in two than survive the crash with some debilitating injury. I would probably rather be dead than crippled at this point in my life.

Are you going to be okay, Elijah? I'm worried about you, Sarah said as she complied with the flight attendants' requests. My seat was still fully reclined.

I don't know. I have fucked up my life so bad. If I could go back and do it all over, I would be so much better.

What would you do differently? Sarah asked.

Well, first, I would have married someone nicer than Katrina. Sweet girls are out there, but the mean ones make us marry them.

Again, not true, Sarah said curtly.

It is true. I could have had plenty of nice girls, but I ran off to be with Katrina, who treated me like dirt.

She did?

Not at first, but as soon as we were engaged, she changed. She got mean.

She was mean to you—that's true. I hate the way she talks to you.

I know. I even told her, you don't have to respect me, but please don't disrespect me.

How is that not the same thing?

It isn't. She puts me down and makes me feel like an idiot.

You can be sorta dense at times, Elijah, like when you tried to wallpaper the bathroom.

Sarah was right. I told my wife that I could do the work myself and proceeded to buy some cheap wallpaper with too little adhesive on the back. Nothing was sticking, so I bought some extra wallpaper paste to help hold the corners down, but that only made the seams look uneven. Then I had the brilliant idea of shoving the wallpaper behind the wall-length mirror, so I didn't have to cut it to the edge. But in loosening the decorative screws that held the mirror in place, I felt the weight on the three-quarter-inch-thick mirror start to shift. It was then that I knew that the heavy mirror was going to come crashing down on me if I didn't jump out of the way.

As predicted, the mirror eventually dislodged from its moorings and came crashing down on the porcelain sink and toilet. Both toilet and sink were destroyed, and I narrowly escaped being crushed by the mirror myself by jumping into the bathtub. When Katrina heard the crash, she came running, and I think she might have been disappointed that I hadn't been killed. I turned a simple $200 project into a $3,000 nightmare. We had professionals do the handiwork in our house from that time on.

I should have gone on and gotten a degree in creative writing, like I wanted, I said to Sarah as the flight attendants took their seats up front.

Why didn't you? she asked.

I don't know. I wanted to get married and make money right away. I planned on going back someday to get an English degree, but I never did.

You still could, right?

I guess. I don't know. I'm forty-seven now. I'd look so stupid in a college class.

That's the same reason, I never went to medical school. I wanted to get married. Such a dope and now look at me.

As the plane was descending and starting its approach, there was a loud noise from below us and then a thumping noise. I couldn't be sure, but it sounded like the landing gears were jammed. And then the pilot came on the overhead and said, Ladies and Gentlemen, please make sure your seat belts are tightly fastened. We are having trouble engaging the landing gear and might have to make a landing without it. Please don't panic, but we need all of you to get into crash positions immediately. I will alert you when we are about to touch the ground. Please don't panic. Everything is going to be okay.

Shit, shit, shit! Sarah said as she took hold of my hand.

It's going to be all right, Sarah. This is not our time.

How do you know that? she said as a tear ran down her cheek.

Because I'm not that lucky. That's why.

Chapter 2

The Beginning Again

Eli! Eli! Wake up! It's time to go to class!

What class? What the hell are you talking about? I asked with my eyes still shut.

Get the fuck out of bed, dumb shit, the voice said as I rolled over to face the wall. Okay, suit yourself, idiot. Next time, don't ask me to wake you up if you don't plan on going!

The voice sounded faintly familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place it. Yet I was awake now. I hated it when anyone woke me up out of a sound sleep. I love sleeping, and I have always been a person that dreams incredible dreams. To be woken up in the middle of a great sleeping experience always made me grouchy, and that was the case for me that day.

Might as well get up now, I said as I opened my eyes, but there was no one there in the room with me.

The first thing I thought was where the hell am I? It was a small ivory-colored cinder block room with two small wooden desks and three small closets. I was lying in the middle rack of a triple bunk bed. I rubbed my eyes and blinked several times, but nothing changed. Then it occurred to me. This was my dorm room from college. I must still be dreaming, I thought as I sat up in the bed. But when I did, I somehow knew that I wasn't dreaming. I was awake, and this was real. At least it seemed real.

What the fuck? I said aloud.

I got up and rushed over to the mirror, and there I was. It was me, but I was younger, much younger. I was twenty-something years old, and boy, did I look good. My hair had not yet receded, and I was so much thinner. I looked down at my flat stomach and rubbed it. It felt so good to be skinny again as I had really let myself go after I turned forty. I looked around the room, which was a mess. Clothes were scattered all over the room and crumpled papers littered both desks. I saw a stack of books in what I remembered to be my cubbyhole. There was a pile of blue jeans on the floor in front of the tiny closet another pile of clothes inside. I got up and picked up a pair of jeans and saw that the label