[Critique Group 1] FW: submission for 6-14-17

[DQ Noriega]

For Kevin if you are still missing cleora's story

-----Original Message-----
From: Group1 [mailto:group1-bounces at bluegrasspals.com] On Behalf Of sitting.duck at springmail.com
Sent: Wednesday, June 07, 2017 7:14 PM
To: DeAnna (Quietwater) Noriega
Cc: Critique Group 1
Subject: [Critique Group 1] submission for 6-14-17

There wasn't a reminder but according to my notes we should submit our pieces today for the 6/14/17 critique session.
This is my first attempt at a romance short story.
It just doesn't seem to be right somehow. Missing something perhaps. I don't know.
All comments welcome.

2375 words
Conflicts of the Heart
by Sly Duck

"Say yes, Mom," said Paul and Debbie in unison.
I looked at both my kids and wondered if he asked in front of them on purpose. No question they approve, but I'm not so sure, There are other things to be considered and, after all, the decision has to be mine.
Don sat in front of me, is hand holding mine tenderly, his soft grey eyes gazing hopeful and lovingly into mine.

It had been two and one half years and this was Don's third proposal. He was kind I knew. Not like Phil, my first husband, who had struck me several times and was probably the reason for my back and hip problems. This would be the second go around for Don as well. 
His first wife had cheated on him. He had gotten suspicious and followed her. After she left her alternate love nest in a small apartment above a garage, he had knocked on the door of the landlady's house and showed her a picture of his wife.
"Oh yes," the landlady said. "That's Mrs. Jackson. Her and her husband Ben rent my garage apartment.  She is a lovely lady. She spends as much time here as she can, but she goes out of town a lot because of her work."
That night he had caught them in bed together. In spite of her infidelity, he had begged her to leave her lover and come back to him and their two boys, but she refused and so he felt he had no choice but to divorce her.
My own marriage had ended after eight years. My son, Paul, had been five and Debbie seven when I found out Phil was cheating on me. Phil had not fought the divorce, and he cared nothing about the kids. Occasionally he sent the child support. 
After the divorce, I finished getting my teaching certification and was hired by a small local school as a Kindergarten teacher. The kids were in school nearby so I could pick them up on my way home.
I was down to 98 pounds after the divorce and all the stress.
There was this little place called The Grill on my way home, so hoping to gain back a little weight, I had been stopping off for a milkshake.
One day I noticed someone new. A young man about my age was standing next to the owner. They exchanged a few words and he came over to take my order. 
I recognized that look of interest. I acted disinterested. I had my teaching career and two kids to worry about. I didn't need a relationship complicating my life.
I ordered a strawberry milk shake and busied myself with a notepad from my purse.
In a few minutes, he reappeared with my milk shake and sat it down in front of me.
"There's a Burger Barn not far from here," he said. "They make great hamburgers and a caramel fudge milkshake that is not to be believed. Would you like to go get one? Say, about six when I get off?"
"I don't have a babysitter for my two kids," I said knowing he would vanish like snow on a hot grill when he found out I had two kids.
"We can bring the kids along," he said. "I have two boys of my own and the restaurant has a play room."
My mouth dropped open and I stuck my straw in it and sipped my milk shake to cover my surprise.
"Okay," I said after a few minutes. "I know where it is. I'll pick up my kids and meet you there."
After we ate, Don and I watched the kids play while we talked and sipped on our drinks.
That's the way it began. Whatever we did, we brought the kids along. If it was a movie, the kids sat down front and we sat in the back where we could see them and watch the movie.
If it was miniature golf, we all competed for the lowest score and the winner got a donut with his or her filling of choice.
One year at the fair he bought us all double scoop ice cream cones. Debbie was bumped by some kid running through the grounds and fell into Don spilling her cone. There was a big chocolate stain on his sweater and the ice-cream fell on his shoe.
"I'm sorry," She whimpered; tears already welling up in her eyes. She cringed waiting for the blow or at least loud scolding words that would have certainly come from Phil, my former husband. 
Paul stepped up quickly. "It was my fault," he said. "I bumped into her.”
"it's ok," said Don taking her in his arms and using his napkin to wipe away her tears. Then, after asking the concession attendant for some napkins and cleaning off his sweater and shoes as best he could, he bought her another cone and we went on to enjoy the fair.
I suppose this was when feelings of love for this tender and caring man first stirred within me.
I offered to clean the sweater and he brought it to me at The Grill next day.
I learned He was working at The Grill while he was going to school at the local Theological Seminary. This raised a red flag since I knew there were differences in what we believed, and I had always been taught not to marry outside my faith. I thought about Phil. I had met him at church. We had grown up together. Still, ...
Don proposed the first time after we had been seeing each other regularly for about 2 years. I declined pointing out that he was still in school. I didn't mention that not only did I have no desire to be a preacher's wife, I also didn't believe the same way.
Plus, I had met and gone out with Tom, a fellow from my church, a couple of times.
Tom had been married twice before. He and his first wife had divorced. His second wife had died. Our kids got along great. In fact, on a couple of occasions the kids had even asked us why we didn't get married.
I don't know. I like Tom. I just don't hit it off with him as well as with don. On the other hand, he is of the same faith and isn't studying to be a preacher. 
When Don asked the second time, about six weeks ago, I said I wanted to think about it. Now, we were down to the wire. If I turned him down this time, he probably would not ask again.

* * *

Don sat quietly watching the slight unbelievably beautiful woman across the table from him. He smiled at the hopeful looks on the children’s faces and welcomed their encouraging words. He knew she was concerned that they were of different religious faiths. What he hadn't told her was that he was not all that sure about what he had been taught. At school they would read a scripture that sounded pretty straight forward to him, but then the instructor would say, "I know what this sounds like it says, but that's not what it means." He would then proceed to tell them what their faith believed it to mean.
If God doesn't say what He means in the Bible, how do the teachers and leaders know what it is supposed to mean? He hadn't shared his questions with anyone. If they knew he was having these questions, they might kick him out of the seminary. But, what about her faith. How was it different? What about his sons. So far they had been brought up in his faith. How would his uncertainty affect them? He knew she had been dating someone from her own church. But, nothing serious seemed to be happening. Was he about to lose her? He had come to love her very much and when they went out they looked like the perfect family. 
The doctor had told him after his second son was born that if his wife got pregnant again, it would kill her so he had had a vasectomy. Was that why she was hesitating? With her two and his two that would be four children but did she want another?
He felt her other hand on his and once again focused his attention on her.

* * *

I looked at Paul and Debbie. Their hopeful faces smiling up at me. I put my hand on Don's looked into his eyes, and said "Yes."
The kids began to cheer and bounce around excitedly in their chairs. The rest of the people in the restaurant, some with disapproving glares, started looking in our direction.
Don had a huge grin on his face. He looked right back at all of them, spread his arms wide, and shouted for all to hear.
"She said yes!"
With that, cheers, whistles, and applause erupted from the other customers.
Then, our waiter brought out one of those big cookie cakes with leaves of blue and green icing around the edge and "YES!: spelled out in pink icing across the middle.
"How about next June?" he asked. "The kids will be out of school and I will have finished at the Seminary."
"Agreed," I said. 
I looked down at our hands clasped in the middle of the table.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
I didn't know how to bring it up. I took a deep breath and turned to the kids. We were in one of those rotating restaurants that has a viewer on the top. I gave each of them two quarters. "Why don’t you kids go up on the roof while Don and I talk." 
They looked at each other. They knew I had something serious I wanted to talk to Don about. Solemnly they got up and went toward the elevator.
"What's wrong?" asked Don.
"You know we have a problem."
"Is it because I can't have children?" he asked.
"No, That doesn't really matter to me. I already have two children and you have two. That is more than enough for us."
"What then?"
"We have never really talked about it, but I know we go to different churches. Can we really have a successful marriage if we don't agree on what the Bible says? And, either way, I don't want to be a preacher's wife."
Don looked down at our hands and was quiet for a long time.
Was this going to be a deal breaker?
I waited for him to speak.
"I've never really mentioned this to anyone," he began, "but, I'm not really that sure about what I been taught all my life. I mean, it doesn't seem to agree with what I read in the Bible. I'm going to the Seminary to learn what the Bible teaches. I was wondering what you believe."
Over the next few months, we read the Bible together. He came to church with me a couple of times and I went with him and we asked questions in the Bible classes we attended. After a while he dropped out of the seminary and started just to attend church with me.
He met Tom, the fellow I had dated for a while, and they got to be good friends. 
It was a great relief to me for us to be united in our faith in God. We grew closer and I felt certain that I had made the right decision. Our two broken families would be made whole in each other.
Don left his job at The Grill and started a little donut shop.
By the way, Don is the only name in donuts. 
Sorry, just had to slip that in.
No, it wasn't all wine and roses for us.
One little bump in the road was that Don didn't believe in letting children believe in Santa Clause. It's kind of a long story but what it comes down to is that he was so disappointed when he found out his mother had lied to him by telling him that Santa Clause was real that he refused to let our kids experience that fantasy. I tried to explain that it was just one of the fun things about being a kid, but he was adamant. So, no Santa Clause for us.
Actually the kids were a little old for that anyway, but they still liked the idea.
He was amazing at Easter though. Apparently the Easter bunny wasn’t part of the fantasy taboo. Somehow, he made little cream filled eggs out of donut batter and fried them so they had a hard sugar glaze around the outside. He wrapped them in foil and we hid them around the park for the kids to find.
They had a ball and we had even more fun cracking them open to eat.
The kids are grown now with children of their own.
Today is our fiftieth anniversary. 
I know Don and the kids are up to something. They get quiet when I come into the room. 
The kids and grandkids agreed to meet us at The Grill for our Jubilee; It is strange. We seem to be the only ones here. This place is usually pretty full at this time of day.
Don led me to a table in the center and everyone gathered around.
He pulled a small box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a gold pendent with a band across the numbers 50. The words wonderful years was engraved on the band. There was a small diamond chip at either end of the words.
“Will you marry me again?” said Don.
“Say yes, Mom/Grandma,” they all said in unison.
“Yes.” I said without hesitation.
Our grandson Paul, Jr., who just happens to be a minister, brought out a cookie cake and sat it in the center of the table; this time, there was the figure of a man and woman in wedding apparel in the center and leaves of gold icing around the border.
So, we did it again, then and there, with all the kids to help us celebrate.

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