by Gail Sattler
She could see it in her mind’s eye. Basic black, basic brown, white sneakers, and felt-lined boots for a person living in a snowbound winter climate. Exactly four. He didn’t even have to think about it. “You’re such a … a …,” she paused and waved one hand in the air, “a man!”
He blinked. “Is that bad?”
“Typical male,” she grumbled.
“Excuse me.”
Molly cringed at his sarcastic response. She did mean to tease him, but she hadn’t meant to insult him. She opened her mouth to apologize, but as he turned his head, his little grin caused her heart to skip a beat and start up in double-time.
“You’re teasing me!” she huffed and stared out the window again.
“Me?” He had the nerve to laugh. “Never.”
“That does it. We’ve seen enough of the landscape. You owe me dessert. And it had better be something chocolate.”
“Thank you all for coming. I’ll see you all again this time next month.”
Molly closed her notebook and stood as the board of directors did the same. She’d never been to an executive meeting, and she could sum it all up in one word. Dull. Although nothing could have been worse than the mayor’s speech at the Chamber of Commerce dinner.
She’d tried her best to take good notes, but out of the corner of her eye, she’d seen that Ken had also taken some notes of his own. To anyone who was watching, it wouldn’t have looked strange to see Ken writing with his right hand, but Molly knew better.
Once they had returned to their desks, Molly wheeled her chair beside him and immediately explained what she had written down, just in case he couldn’t understand her writing or had questions.
“I saw you writing too. What kind of notes were you taking?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Did you write down Malcom’s question? I can’t remember now exactly what he said, but I do know that whatever it was, I thought he had a good point and I wanted to take it up with Uncle Walter later.”
Molly paged through her notes, then pointed to the correct spot. “Right here.”
He nodded as he read, and while his attention was on her notes, Molly sneaked a peek at his. It was a single page, which he had pushed to the far side of his desk. But she could see it anyway.
There were only a few words on the paper, and they were printed in a large and almost illegible scrawl.
“That’s great. I wasn’t sure if you caught that. And what about …” His voice trailed off as he looked up and saw where she was looking. His mouth snapped shut. He grabbed the paper, crumpled it up with one hand, and aimed for the garbage can.
Molly grabbed it out of his hand before he threw it. “No, wait, let me see that. It wasn’t too bad.” Before he could protest, she smoothed it out in front of her.
“I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t write with the wrong hand—it was all I could do to print—and as it was, I struggled to do just a few words. It took so much of my concentration for each individual letter that I lost track of the meeting. It was like I was back in kindergarten.”
Molly giggled. “I’ll bet you were a cute kid in kindergarten.”
He tried to snatch the paper, but Molly slapped her hand on top of it.
“I was funny-looking and everyone laughed at me because I was the only one wearing glasses.”
“Glasses?”
“Yes, glasses. I wore glasses from a very early age.”
“You wore glasses as young as kindergarten?” Molly leaned closer to study his eyes. His gorgeous deep blue eyes. “I’ve never seen you in glasses. I don’t see that you’re wearing contacts.”
“I had that new laser surgery about a year ago.” He grinned wide. “No more glasses. What a difference, huh?”
She didn’t know what to say. She had never seen him in glasses, so she couldn’t tell. But he was mighty good-looking without them. He was probably just as handsome with glasses; in fact, they would probably add a touch of dignity, since he was an executive. Not liking where her thoughts were headed, Molly returned her concentration to the paper in front of her.
“I think my notes are fairly comprehensive.”
“You’ve done a good job, as usual, and we’re nearly done. How would you like to join me for dinner? I’m on my own tonight and have no intention of cooking.”
“Sorry. I’ve got something all defrosted. I’m cooking supper at home.”
“Oh.”
He looked so dejected, she couldn’t help but feel guilty, although she didn’t know why. Molly sighed. “Would you like to come over for supper?”
His sullen expression changed instantly into a hopeful smile. “That sounds great. We should be finished soon. I’ll follow you home.”
Molly tried not to groan.
Chapter 12
Ken followed Molly very carefully. Not only did she take a few shortcuts only the locals would have known about, but her driving was rather erratic. He’d already noticed that the population of the area in general tended to drive too fast and follow too close, to say nothing of aggressive tendencies, but it surprised him to see that Molly was no different.
He sighed and reminded himself not to be judgmental and that most likely after a few years of living here his own driving habits would change to match the general population.
Molly’s poor driving habits aside, Ken felt a strange satisfaction to know that even though they were in separate vehicles, they were headed for the same destination. Molly’s home. He smiled to himself as he dreamed about the possibility of one day being in the same car, driving home together after a long day at the office.
His original plan to buy a house shortly after his arrival had changed. At first, the delay was only due to the cast as there was no way he was going to be unpacking with one arm. Now, however, he had no desire to buy a house because he would have been buying it alone. When the cast was off and he could move out of Uncle Walter and Aunt Ellen’s house, he had decided to rent something instead. He wondered what it would be like to buy a home with Molly at his side, permanently.
Molly waited for him as he found a spot in the visitor parking, and she complained about the traffic the entire trip up to her apartment. He didn’t think he needed to add anything. She said it all, and then some.
The apartment was considerably less tidy than the last time he’d visited. He had a suspicion, which was further evidenced after observing the condition of her desk day after day, that what he saw of her home today was closer to its usual state than what he’d previously witnessed. He thought that Molly would probably appreciate a housekeeper more than most people.
“Is there something I can help you with, since you didn’t expect to be cooking for two?”
She shook her head as she washed her hands in the kitchen sink, then wiped them on the dishtowel. “No, you probably wouldn’t be that much help anyway.” Her hands froze. “I mean, with only one hand what could you do?” Her face flushed red. “I mean, no, I don’t want any help.”
Ken bit his lip. Once Molly opened her mouth, he always knew exactly what was on her mind. Yet as tactless as she seemed, Ken could appreciate it. Since she treated him with nothing but open honesty, he could simply relax and be himself. He hoped she was equally as relaxed in his company.
Rather than go into the living room to sit on the couch by himself, he pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down so they could talk while she prepared supper. He watched as she bustled about the kitchen. For one of the rare times since they had met, she was silent, probably because she was following the instructions on the box. Her back was toward him as she worked.
It felt rather domestic, and he liked it. His preference would have been to help her, and when he was out of the cast, he hoped to do that someday. His thoughts drifted to the picture of both of them tidying up the kitchen after supper, of washing and drying dishes together, as a couple. The next addition to the domestic picture in his mind was the addition of children and a dog or two.
Ken rested one el
bow on the table and leaned his chin into his palm as he slouched forward, still watching Molly. She held the lid above the saucepan, whose contents were now simmering, while she stirred.
“Have you ever thought about getting married?” he asked.
The metal lid crashed down, landing askew on the saucepan and tottering a few seconds until Molly straightened it. She turned to face him. “Married?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess so. When the right man comes along.”
“Tell me about your Mr. Right.”
Molly turned the heat down and stared at him like he was from outer space. “You want to hear about my Mr. Right? The man of my dreams I haven’t met yet?”
According to him, she’d met the man of her dreams, all right. She just didn’t realize it yet. He merely had to convince her of it. “Yes. Tell me about the qualities you want to find in your life’s mate.”
Molly crossed her arms over her chest, tilted her head, scrunched one eye, and stuck the tip of her tongue out the corner of her mouth. She looked up to the ceiling for a few seconds, then turned to him. “First, he’d have to be a Christian.”
Ken smiled. So far so good. “And then?”
Molly’s eyes glazed over, her expression became dreamy, and she turned to study a blank spot on the wall. “No matter what, he’s got to love me the same way I love him. Like, totally nuts about each other. Not love at first sight, I don’t believe in that. Like best friends, but with a major spark. You know. Romantic stuff. We’d both be in love totally and completely, faithfully, till death do us part, and all that rot.”
Ken smiled. He couldn’t have said it better himself, although he would have worded it differently.
Molly sighed. “A good job would help. But it wouldn’t really matter, as long as he’s ambitious and motivated. I expect to continue working. I wouldn’t even care if I made more money and became the major income provider. I took some business courses at night school, and I plan to work my way up.” She stopped staring at the wall and made eye contact. Her dreamy smile made Ken’s chest tighten.
After Ken’s cast came off, Uncle Walter was going to make the announcement that Ken was to be named as vice president of Quinlan Enterprises. That would begin the five-year transition leading to Uncle Walter’s retirement, and then Ken would take over as company president. Of course Uncle Walter would still be honorary chairman because he owned the company, but Ken was going to effectively run the entire corporation. That was why he went to college, and he’d excelled at all the courses he needed. When he started working for Quinlan Enterprises, he’d started at the bottom and worked his way up, not simply taking over because of his name. He’d worked, and he’d worked hard because he had to prove his worth—that he wasn’t being given preferential treatment because he was family. The respect he received from the employees was well deserved. He’d earned it the hard way.
Now everything was coming to fruition. Over the next five years, he was going to put both his experience at the working level and all his administrative knowledge into practical application. It was what he’d wanted to do from the time he graduated from high school. He wondered if that qualified as “a good job.”
He smiled. “And then what?”
Molly tilted her head and rested one finger on her cheek as she thought for a few seconds. “I wouldn’t care what he looked like. I mean, it would be nice if he was good-looking, but what’s in the heart is so much more important. I hate it when you meet someone who is so good-looking they’re stuck on themselves.”
While Ken knew he wasn’t the most handsome man to grace the face of the earth, he tried to take care of himself. He was careful with his appearance, doing the best he could with what God gave him.
“And he should be able to hold his own in a conversation and stand up for himself.” Molly’s cheeks reddened and her voice lowered. “I sometimes tend to dominate a conversation.”
“No!” Ken exclaimed, trying to feign shock. “Really?”
She stuck her tongue out at him and turned away. For once, she didn’t comment. Ken laughed.
“What about kids?” he asked, ignoring her silence. Besides, he knew it wouldn’t last. “Do you want to have kids?”
Molly nodded. “Of course. A nice house in the suburbs, 2.4 children, the white picket fence. I want it all!” She raised both hands in the air and twirled in a circle, the picture of glee, then turned back at him, smiling ear to ear. She lowered her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess that’s about it. What about you? Do you want to get married someday?”
Ken smiled. Not only did he want to get married, he wanted to get married soon, and he knew exactly to whom. “Yes, I do.”
That same dreamy expression appeared on Molly’s face. She dropped herself into the chair opposite the table from him, rested her elbows on the table, and cupped her chin in her palms. “Tell me about your Miss Right.”
He looked straight at Molly. “She’d have to be a Christian.”
“Yeah. I figured that. And?”
“Like you, I’d marry for love, nothing else. And if the perfect person didn’t come along, I’d stay single.”
Molly didn’t say anything, so he took advantage of it and continued.
“My position at Quinlan Enterprises is obviously stable, so it’s not important to me if the woman I marry works or not. If she wants to work, fine. If not, I’d like her to be involved in some kind of ministry function. Or maybe church secretary if that’s what she wanted, and that could be a volunteer position, because we’d be able to afford it.”
“You seem to have things pretty mapped out.”
He smiled. “No, not really. Those were just a few ideas. I’d also want to be part of a team in some form of ministry. We’re talking future dreams here, not necessarily reality, right?”
She shrugged. “I guess so. What else? What would she be like?”
He knew that without hesitation. She’d have untamable red hair and smoky green eyes, be bold and lively, and never lack for cheerful conversation. She would have a smile that lit up a room. “Looks aren’t important. What’s important is what’s underneath. Intelligence, ambition. Waiting for her Mr. Right, which would be me.”
Molly scrunched her eyebrows and cocked her head to one side. “Waiting?”
Ken cleared his throat. “Uh, you know. Not promiscuous.”
“I would think that most women aren’t promiscuous. It’s just that you see so much news about those that are, but really, it’s not the norm.”
“I know that. But I don’t know how many women are waiting for marriage nowadays.”
“Waiting for marriage?” Her voice trailed off. He could see the exact second she put two and two together. “Oh!” She snorted rather indelicately and laid both palms on the tabletop. “You know that really bugs me. Men expect that of a woman, but when the shoe is on the other foot, it’s different.”
Ken stiffened and leaned back in his chair. “Not always.”
Molly snorted again.
Ken rested his free hand on top of the cast, the closest he could come to crossing his arms while his mobility was so restricted. What he expected was not unreasonable, nor was it impossible. He was ready to let the subject pass when Molly’s mouth dropped open, she leaned toward him, and stared deeply into his eyes. At her scrutiny, his face heated up.
“Well, maybe not always, but …” She leaned closer, never wavering from a stern eye contact. Her eyes widened and her brows raised. “You’ve never …”
Now his ears burned too. It was a subject he felt strongly about, but he had never discussed it with another living soul, especially a woman.
“You’re saving yourself for marriage! That’s so sweet!”
What he really wanted to do was cover his face with his hands, but since he had the use of only one arm, he bent his head forward, pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head. He was twenty-seven years old, graduated near the top of his class in college, and was about to become vice president of a maj
or corporation. He had always been an active member of his church and took God’s word about love and marriage and chastity very seriously. For all his commitment to doing his best to follow God’s direction about avoiding temptation, the last thing he would have been expected to be called was sweet.
When he looked up, she was still staring at him. Molly placed one hand on his shoulder. “You know, just because a woman hasn’t been a Christian all her life doesn’t mean she would give herself away. There are lots of women out there who are waiting, you know.”
He didn’t know if she was speaking in general terms or if she was speaking of herself. He was afraid to ask.
Molly backed up a bit. “What about kids? Do you want kids?”
Ken cleared his throat. “Yes, I want kids. I’m an only child, and even though we had a large extended church family, I always wanted brothers and sisters. Or even a cousin would have been nice. When I get married, I want kids. I never thought about how many. Just more than one.”
“I have one brother. But when I was a kid, I wished I had a dog instead.”
He allowed himself to relax, since the conversation was drifting into more comfortable territory. “I had a dog when I was a boy. I’d like a dog too. But I wouldn’t allow my daughter to call it Missykins.”
Molly giggled. “Me neither!”
Ken smiled. “Well, I guess that makes us a perfect match, don’t you think?”
She laughed out loud, which made Ken doubt she took him seriously, even though he’d never been more serious in his life. Obviously the light touch wasn’t going to work.
The timer for the stove dinged. Molly spooned some kind of ground beef and pasta mixture onto two plates. “Another famous gourmet meal. Just read the instructions on the box.”
It took Ken a few seconds to realize that she was comparing it to the recipe for the stew they’d had yesterday.
After a few words of thanks, they began to eat. Ken had never eaten anything like this in his life, but it wasn’t bad, considering.
