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    Chocolate for a Lover's Heart: Soul-Soothing Stories that Celebrate the Power of Love
    Chocolate for a Lover's Heart: Soul-Soothing Stories that Celebrate the Power of Love
    Chocolate for a Lover's Heart: Soul-Soothing Stories that Celebrate the Power of Love
    Ebook204 pages1 hour

    Chocolate for a Lover's Heart: Soul-Soothing Stories that Celebrate the Power of Love

    By Kay Allenbaugh

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Discover a Love as Sweet as Chocolate!
    The power of love -- it can move mountains, make our dreams come true, and comfort us on the darkest of days. Whether we're in a relationship with a special partner, in search of a perfect soulmate, or touched by this precious feeling when we least expect it, we've all fallen under its spell. Chocolate for a Lover's Heart is for any woman who has given in to love in its many guises -- tender and innocent, passion-filled and complex, endless and everlasting, courageous and healing. Kay Allenbaugh, creator of the bestselling Chocolate books, has assembled a collection of real-life stories with more variety than the biggest box of chocolate, all of them written by and for women. Chocolate for a Lover's Heart will delight and uplift you, make you laugh and cry, push you to reach for your goals, and remind you that love is something to be nurtured, cherished, and savored, and -- like chocolate -- to be shared!
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTouchstone
    Release dateJun 15, 2010
    ISBN9781451603262
    Chocolate for a Lover's Heart: Soul-Soothing Stories that Celebrate the Power of Love
    Author

    Kay Allenbaugh

    Kay Allenbaugh, creator of the Chocolate series, is a writer and speaker who is known as "The Caretaker of Stories for Women of the World." She lives in Lake Oswego, Oregon. Contributors to the Chocolate series include bestselling authors, motivational speakers, newspaper columnists, radio hosts, spiritual leaders, psychotherapists, businesswomen, and teenagers from all over the world.

    Read more from Kay Allenbaugh

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      Book preview

      Chocolate for a Lover's Heart - Kay Allenbaugh

      ALSO BY KAY ALLENBAUGH

      Chocolate for a Woman’s Soul

      Chocolate for a Woman’s Heart

      CHOCOLATE

      for a

      LOVER’S

      HEART

      SOUL-SOOTHING STORIES

      THAT CELEBRATE THE

      POWER OF LOVE

      KAY ALLENBAUGH

      A FIRESIDE BOOK

      Published by Simon & Schuster

      FIRESIDE

      Rockefeller Center

      1230 Avenue of the Americas

      New York, NY 10020

      Copyright © 1999 by Kay Allenbaugh

      All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

      FIRESIDE and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

      www.SimonandSchuster.com

      Manufactured in the United States of America

      3  5  7  9  10  8  6  4  2

      Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

      Chocolate for a lover’s heart : soul-soothing stories that celebrate the power of love / [compiled by] Kay Allenbaugh.

      p.  cm.

      A Fireside book.

      1. Love stories, American.  2. American fiction—Women authors.  I. Allenbaugh, Kay.

      PS648.L6C49   1999

      813′.01083543—dc21   98-31935

      CIP

      ISBN 0-684-86298-0

      ISBN 978-1-451-60326-2

      With my deepest love,

      I dedicate this book to Eric,

      My one-in-a-million man

      who blesses me daily as

      my teacher, my friend, and my lover

      CONTENTS

      Introduction

      I HEAVENLY SENT

      Reverence  Mary Zelinka

      Watching Over  Eric Debralee James

      Expect a Miracle  Patti Schechter

      A Hand to Hold  Veronica Lewis

      Message Received  Michele S. Wallace

      Elusive Love  Catherine Lanigan

      The Upward Spiral  Yvonne Clare Provost

      The Angel Tree  Marlene L. King

      II A LOVE FOR ALL AGES

      The Mother Load  Claudia McCormick

      Sex in the Eighties  Wendy J. Natkong

      Looking My Age … and Proud of It!  Candis Fancher

      A Gift Beyond Time  Ursula Bacon

      My First Kiss  Cher Laughlin McClintock

      The Uplifting Surprise  Judith Bader Jones

      III LOVING YOURSELF FROM THE INSIDE OUT

      Wild Heart  Michelle Carrington

      The Mirror  Sharon Kinder

      Dr. Bob  Donna Hartley

      The Popcorn Can  Laurie Wierbick

      Ten Again  Susan LaMaire

      Standing Ovations  Chris Clarke-Epstein

      IV DESIGNING A LIFE

      On a Scale of 0 to 10  Kay Allenbaugh

      Is Anybody in Charge Here?  Susie Troccolo

      This Is Only a Test  Kathlyn Hendricks

      August Love Song  Jo Ann Townsend

      My Counselor  Denise Allen Jakob

      Writing My Own Script  Barbara Arnstein McCormack

      Predicting the Future  Nancy Kiernan

      My Intimate Celibacy Adventure  Donna Marie Williams

      V WEATHERING THE STORM

      The Tip of the Pirate’s Blade  Kyla Merwin

      If That’s the Worst Thing …  Garnet Hunt White

      Buon Natale  Becky Lee Weyrich

      My Accidental Lover  Sue-Ellen Welfonder

      To Catch a Cop  Joanne McCall

      The Circle of Love  Polly Camp Kreitz

      VI LOVE IS A SPLENDID THING

      The Dance of Love  Lola D. Gillebaard

      Trophy Wife  Mary Northrup

      Always the Ocean Sheila  Stephens

      When Hayward Met Sherry  Sherry Gipson

      Meant to Be  Carole Bellacera

      The Right Bus  Dorothy Hutchins Klingbeil

      Jake’s Kittens  Christine Davis

      I Dare You!  April Kemp

      VII LOVE POTIONS

      For the Love of Teddy  Robin Ryan

      Yard Work  Marlene R. Jannusch

      Living with the Easter Bunny  Linda Ross Swanson

      Cupid’s Crooked Arrow  Judy Brand

      Overlooking the Obvious  Jennifer Brown Banks

      A Dime a Dozen  Terry Cohen

      Our Rescue Dog  Lynne Swartzlander

      Sailing Through the Storm  Jo Hinds

      More Chocolate Stories?

      Contributors

      Acknowledgments

      INTRODUCTION

      Love stories give us hope, make us feel whole, and allow us to see a reflection of ourselves in someone else’s eyes. When I collected the love stories in this volume, I intentionally sought out a rich variety of experiences. And so Chocolate for a Lover’s Heart offers up a bounty of all kinds of love: finding that perfect mate, loving ourselves enough to go after our dreams, endless love and unforgettable passion, sweet—and bittersweet—love.

      Just as women and chocolate go together, so do chocolate and love! That sigh of satisfaction you make after savoring a delicious piece of chocolate is akin to that feeling of wholeness when you experience a great, encircling love. The power of love—whether for another person or for ourselves—is what moves mountains, lets us soar to new heights, and adds richness to our lives.

      I am grateful that forty-nine women—including motivational speakers, therapists, bestselling authors, entrepreneurs, and homemakers—have shared their favorite true-life love stories in Chocolate for a Lover’s Heart. These contributors reveal all ages and stages of love, from that first important kiss, to passion still burning brightly into the twilight years, from divine messages of love that change your life, to seeing the beauty within yourself for the very first time. You will laugh, cry, and always remember these stories, stories with surprise endings and interesting twists and turns—all offered in love to warm your heart.

      Virtually all these stories remind us of a woman’s unique, enormous capacity to love, especially when it’s hard to, when it’s unexpected, and even when it’s meant to be.

      Chocolate for a Lover’s Heart is my heartfelt response to readers who demanded more chocolate after consuming Chocolate for a Woman’s Soul and Chocolate for a Woman’s Heart. If you’re like me, you might take great pleasure from treating yourself to as much chocolate as you can get your hands on and devouring all these stories in one sitting! But you can also savor them, one at a time, and prolong what I hope will be a very satisfying experience. Read these stories in sequence, or randomly select a story title that speaks to you that day, knowing you will always hear the perfect message when you need it most.

      I hope you enjoy these tales of inspiration as much as I enjoyed collecting them and getting to know the wonderful women behind each story. Chocolate for a Lover’s Heart is proof positive that if we nurture that part of ourselves that believes we deserve meaningful love, then love is truly available to us all.

      I

      HEAVENLY SENT

      What is important is that one is capable of love. It is perhaps the only glimpse we are permitted of eternity.

      —HELEN HAYES

      It’s in being known that we flourish.

      —JAN CAROTHERS

      REVERENCE

      His advertisement in the New York Times took me by surprise; I hadn’t thought of him or Missouri for such a long time. The Muse’s Refuge: Fine and Rare Books. Underneath a drawing of an overstuffed chair was a phone number and an address. As I remember, that street defined a very exclusive part of downtown St. Louis. Apparently, he’d done well.

      I first saw Daniel after he moved into his newly purchased used-book store in a run-down section of St. Louis. I had just started working at the First National Bank, a few blocks away, and had walked past on my lunch hour. He stacked books on shelves two, sometimes three, deep, and boxes overflowing with old books crowded the aisles. History, music, poetry, literature, romance, biographies, were all mixed together. A beautiful old copy of The Secret Garden sat on the shelf right next to a tawdry romance paperback.

      I wandered between the aisles, breathing deep that wonderful rich musty old-book smell. I’ve always loved used-book stores. I love to browse and run my fingers along the spines and wonder about the people who once held and read and loved these books. I must have closed my eyes and been dreaming, because I walked right into him and very nearly stumbled into the box he was emptying. I remember he laughed a kind, quiet laugh. Too embarrassed to say much, I didn’t even look directly at him. I used to be so afraid of people then!

      I went back. At least once a week, usually more. The Muse’s Refuge began to look like a real bookstore. Daniel told me his dream: He wanted to sell fine, very rare books. Someday. He had to start somewhere. Daniel called me by my name now, and he always looked up when I came in. I liked it that he always seemed pleased to see me.

      And I liked to watch him work. Organizing, putting away. He touched his books with such reverence. If you have the choice and can afford it, always buy the first edition, he instructed. I started paying attention to the copyright pages of used books.

      One day, I asked him if he had ever seen a copy of Jane Eyre with very unusual illustrations. I had seen one as a child and had been fascinated by the pictures. I’d never forgotten the mysterious allure of the artwork even after all these years.

      The Eichenberg set, he answered without hesitation. Woodcut engravings. I don’t have a copy, but I’ll look for one. The next week, he had a boxed set of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights with the Eichenberg engravings waiting for me. He wouldn’t let me pay for them. It’s a necessity, he explained. If you love a book, you should have it.

      One snowy day, I braved the icy walk on my lunch hour and found him sitting in his worn overstaffed chair, gently cleaning an old leather-bound book. I thought, This is what I would want for my life: to sit in an old comfortable chair, watching the world move by slowly through the snow, caressing a book, drinking a cup of hot tea.

      On that day, he kissed me. Daniel made me a cup of tea, and when he brought it to me, he leaned down and kissed the top of my head. His lips stayed there, tender and warm, for a good long minute. Then he straightened up and went to his chair and we sat together in silence. I felt that kiss throughout every pore of my body.

      We never talked about our lives. Only books and ideas. I knew he wasn’t married, but he must have known that I was, because of my wedding ring. I didn’t tell him I had a four-year-old son. And of course I didn’t tell him about my husband and his violence. I was too ashamed.

      We made love only once. Not long after that kiss on my head. In the thick of a conversation he got up to make tea, and I followed him up the stairs to his small apartment, talking all the while. That sun-filled bright room, the white snow outside reflecting through the heavy old window glass, silenced me. The room was so bright, so unlike, yet exactly like, the friendly dark of the bookstore below. Books were piled everywhere. Bright, modern art prints papered the walls. I stood still in that golden light that exists in St. Louis in the wintertime and thought: This is where Daniel lives. I looked over at him standing there by his stove. He was watching me. Yes, I whispered.

      I didn’t go back to work that afternoon and Daniel kept his shop closed. No one had ever touched me with such reverence before.

      I never went back to The Muse’s Refuge after that day. I don’t know why. Everything I had ever wanted existed in that room. I left my job the next week and didn’t venture downtown again.

      Years later, after I finally left my husband, I did go back to the store. Leaving the state and having no intention of ever returning to Missouri, I visited some of my past. The Muse’s Refuge wasn’t where I had remembered, so I looked it up in the phone book and found it a few blocks over in a slightly better area.

      The new shop featured mostly rare books. I found a copy of Mistress Masham’s Repose by T. H. White that I’d been looking for. I checked to see if I’d selected a first edition and then went to pay for it. I hadn’t seen him when I first came in, but now saw his worn overstaffed chair behind the counter. He had been sitting there, reading. He wrote out my receipt and put my book in a smart dark brown sack that said, The Muse’s Refuge in silver letters. He didn’t recognize me. Or maybe he did. I thanked him, put the package under my arm, and left the shop’s cozy darkness into the October crisp city air.

      This morning, before I put the Times out for recycling, I clipped out Daniel’s ad and stuck it between the pages of Jane Eyre. The Eichenberg set of Brontë books aren’t the finest or the rarest books I own, but they are my most dear.

      MARY ZELINKA

      WATCHING OVER ERIC

      On a scorching summer day in Arizona, I hurried to get to an appointment on time. Halfway there, I noticed the arrow on my car’s gas gauge sitting on empty. As I scanned the street in search of a gas station, I saw him. Head down, thumb out, he moved ahead. He appeared to be in his early twenties, unkempt and sweating from the heat. I gave him but a glance as I passed, and then I heard the voice. As clearly as if spoken by someone seated in the back of my van came the words, Stop, Eric needs a friend today. Many thoughts ran quickly through my mind, including the very real danger of picking up hitchhikers. Even though Eric is my oldest son’s name and this young man looked quite weary, I passed him by and turned into the next gas station.

      It seems that everything takes much longer when you are already late and so it was at the gas station. Finally fueled up after waiting in line at the pumps, I proceeded

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