A Day Out with Melissa

This is a silly little fun story...I'm a big goober and I'm not ashamed to admit it...

The chill of the frosty morning was fading away, big plump dewdrops hung on blades of flowing grass, transforming it into a green glassy sea. I sat nervously on the front porch swing. Tiptoes planted firmly on the porch, I tipped slowly forward and back, the wind caressed my face, and twirled my ringlets into a dance. The cool freshness dried the sweat bead across my skin, but did nothing for the gooseflesh rising on every orphace of my body. I tried to quiet the butterfly wings in my belly. I tried desperately to think of other things, but my mind always walked back to the thought that brought such excitement, such anguish upon me.

Today was the day I was going to hang out with Melissa Gilbert! Pulse raced at the very thought of it! I had written her a letter, never imagining she would write me back. This journey had begun with three sheets of stationary with scribble emotions from a very passionate girl. Those notes struck a chord with Melissa, and now I’m sitting here trying to control the little pools that keep welling up. I don’t want to make a fool of myself, or make a bad impression; after all we are going to be spending the day together.

My heart thuds as I see a black SUV pull up to the front drive, park, and kill its engine. I take a deep breath anticipating an assistant of Melissa’s to step out of the car. To my surprise Melissa, in faded blue jeans, a yellow tank with little golden flowers, a brown spring jacket, red hair pulled up in a loose ponytail, light make-up, steps out instead. She walks casually up the walk toward me.

I try to steady my heart as I plant my feet firmly on the wooden planks of the porch. Closing my eyes I take a deep breath, and stand carefully to make sure I do have my legs underneath me. Certain I won’t fall I open my eyes just as she graces the top step. Reaching her hand out to me she says with a slight smile, “I’m Melissa!” I respond with a light chuckle, “Well, I’m Melissa too, and it is a pleasure to meet you.” We both laugh and the tension is eased. “Are you ready?” she says turning her body to head back down the steps. “Sure am.” I follow her down and head for the backseat of the SUV. “Um, Melissa, why don’t you sit up here with me!” Melissa points to the passenger door. My face reddens as I hoist myself up beside her. “I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to be driving.”

We travel along winding roads as cool conversation floats from our mouths. The uncomfortable strain of nerves is slowly easing as our conversation continues, light and airy. We share experiences of work, talk casually about men or rather “boys”, nothing to personal, nothing to intimate, just a casual getting to know you time. By the end of the drive I feel like I know Melissa even better, and a certain confidence of what would unfold was sure to be magical.

We stopped in a soft colored little café. They served us warm earl gray in chipped china cups with bubbling red flowers around their waist. We sat neath a large window and the warm sun melted away the last chill of nerves I had. We chattered merrily about life. I shared my narrative with her. I included all the big things such as college, work, family, and friends, and some of the more intimate moments such as fond memories as a child camping. She also gave freely of her narrative and I was blessed and held every morsel as if it were gold.

Intimacy mixed with good food and great atmosphere. We talked way into the afternoon about movies, what our favorites were and why, music, books, and the like. Of course I shared with, or at least tried to articulate in words, what Little House on the Prairie meant to me, and why I love her movies such a Zoya, Seduction in a Small Town, Choices of the Heart, and many others.

This was the only time I saw her fold up a little within herself. I mean of course she was gracious, and loved sharing fond memories from the set of Little House, but she was uncertain how to take the praise for who she was and what she did. She seemed far more content on sharing our experiences as women. I changed the subject by asking her about the boys and Bruce, the light poured back into her eyes, and the muscles in her back and face relaxed. She gushed for hours about her family, and I commented on the love I felt for my own.

When three rounds of tea, ice water, sandwiches, soup, and dessert were safely tucked away in our belly we rose, stretched, and satisfyingly walked out of the café…both our bodies and souls fed.

The sun was slightly setting on our drive home, cascading across the sky rich orange, purple, red, yellow, and blue bled into one another. Melissa turned the radio on and we said very little on the way home, listening to the soft tones coming from the speakers I drank the moment in completely.

Once more she pulled the SUV in front of the house and let the motor die underneath her fingertips. She got out and I stepped from the height of the car as she was coming around to my side. She caught me in a hug, something she rarely does with those she doesn’t know well, and thanked me for a wonderful afternoon. From her satchel she produced a small envelope. We said our goodbyes with, dare I say, tears in both our eyes. She said, “You know Melissa, I was nervous about meeting you, but this day has proved to be a much needed rest for me.” My heart fluttered at the mutual felt feeling. As she got in the car and drove away, I held the card she gave me close to my heart, and the memory of that day melted into my soul!