"When he comes home, I will bake them up fresh for him. You seem to be in better spirits," Marcy said, sitting across from her daughter.
"Did you know that these cookies are responsible for making Donavon fall in love with me?" Faith asked with a grin.
"Oh, really? Do I want to know what they did?"
"Maybe not all the details, but yes!"
* * * * *
Faith began her story with the bicycle ride she took around the neighborhood over five years ago. It was early November and she was feeling particularly invigorated by the crisp, fragrant air, jewel colored leaves and a general sense of well-being that comes with feeling alive. She zoomed happily around the tree-lined streets and through piles of leaves, not paying attention to the giant wall of man-flesh that ran in front of her bike as she skimmed tightly around a corner.
It happened so quickly. She was snatched from the seat and lifted into the air just as the bike crashed into a large hedge. The man holding her stared into her face with a look that spelled both concern and anger.
"Are you nuts, little girl? Sidewalks are not for bicycles. And where is your helmet?"
"I am not a little girl. I happen to be twenty-two. Will you please put me down?" Faith demanded, finding if difficult to break eye contact from the towering Neanderthal. "Sidewalks are not for running, either."
"Sidewalks are for pedestrian traffic. Here's your bike," the man said, yanking it from the bush. "Do you live around here?"
"With my folks about five blocks up. You?"
"Stationed over at the amphib base. Seal unit. I just bought a little place a few blocks that a'way," he thumbed. "Name's Donavon Fuller."
"Faith Hope Trust." Faith reached to shake his hand.
"You're kidding me. Is that really your name?"
"Yeah. My parents are big into believing that good things can happen to those who wait."
"Well, I must admit that bumping into you has been a good thing for me. Do you mind if I walk you home?"
"You aren't shy, are you? I'm not done with my ride."
"Oh, yes you are. I don't want to see you riding without a helmet again, Faith. It's not safe."
Faith stared at the rugged man in surprise. His words made her tremble. He reeked of virility, but there was something more primal, predatory. She felt like he looked at her as a snack, and she was ready to hop onto his plate and let him indulge. She did not believe in love at first site, but there was plenty of room for lust! Her lady parts were certainly in agreement on that account!
"What will your wife say if you escort me home, Donavon?" Faith asked slyly.
"No wife and no girlfriend. You? Got a linebacker for a husband I should look out for hiding behind one of these bushes?"
"Worse. I have a daddy who is a retired police office and I am the only girl with four older brothers." Faith grinned. She liked Donavon's smile, with his bright, white teeth gleaming against a darkly tanned face. She tried not to appear obvious as she scanned the rest of his body, the bulk of which was hidden under baggy sweat pants and several layers of t-shirts. She suspected he wore a high-n-tight under his bright blue, knitted ski-hat.
"Then I suspect Daddy will be very interested to know his little girl-child was riding on the sidewalk without a helmet."
"Ha-ha. Are you from the south? I thought I heard an accent."
"Just a tad. Lived in Cherry Point, North Carolina until I turned twelve and then pop got transfer to Quantico."
"Oh, and what did he say when you broke Marine Corps tradition and went to the squids?" Faith teased, allowing Donavon to pushed her bike next to him as they chatted.
"Traumatized the old geezer," Donavon laughed. "But he consoles himself by reminding me that the Marines are an elite branch of the Navy. It really blew his ego when I was commissioned. He's a Master-Sergeant."
"You are quite the rebel, aren't you?"
"A bit. Mmm, something smells good..." Donavon murmured, lifting his nose to the air as they approached a large, white washed Victorian surrounded by a neatly kept yard.
"Mom is baking her special spice cookies. It means either Daddy has had a crappy day or she is going to make it crappy by springing something on him. Would you like to come in and have some? They are my favorite of the season."
"Maybe I shouldn't. If your dad..."
"Nonsense. Mom! Look what I found hanging around in the street," Faith announced cheerfully, entering the house with Donavon on her heels.
"Please tell me it's not another dog. We... oh, hello!"
"Donavon, this is my mom, Marcy Trust. She is the one responsible for that heavenly scent. Mom, Donavon rescued my bike from a terrible demise. So sad..."
"What did you almost run into this time, chittlins?" another voice piped up.
"A nasty hedge! It attacked me, but this big sailor dude came to my rescue." Faith smiled, kissing her father's weathered cheek. "Daddy, this is Donavon Fuller. He is new in the 'hood."
"Good to meet you, Mr. Trust." Donavon extended his hand.
"Please, call me Nicholas. Did you have your helmet on at least, Miss Faith?"
"Of course..."
"No, sir, she did not." Donavon grinned as Faith wrinkled her nose,
"My little law-breaker. One day, you are going to meet a man who won't think these shenanigans are as cute as you are."
"Oh, please," Faith giggled. "We both know nothing is as cute as I am."
"Very true," Nicholas chuckled, squeezing Faith's hand. "Or humble. We must not forget humble. Just ask her and she will gladly share. What do you do besides rescuing helmet-less bikers from crashing into lethal hedges, Donavon?"
Donavon explained his job in Seal Recon and his hopes to one day become a field survival instructor, eliciting comments from Faith that her idea of field survival meant holing up in a Hilton hotel. Nicholas attempted to convince the young sailor that no amount of persuasion would alter the fact that Faith would never sleep on the ground or eat anything that was not purchased at the market. As they chatted, Faith's four brothers entered the house, also lifting their noses in the air as they sought out the infamous confections. Faith introduced each to Donavon, explaining that they had taken a detour on their way home from work in order to snatch a handful of the first cookies of the season.
Faith brought the six men coffee as Marcy presented a large tray stacked with the hot treats. They dove in like starving waifs, silence filling the room except for happy moans. Marcy puffed with pride as their guest sunk his teeth into his cookie, rolled his eyes and groaned.
"I think I have died and gone to heaven, Marcy. I should have warned you that I am a sucker for good baking and you might not be able to get rid of me if you keep this up."
"Now you see why I married her. Of course, this means that she will probably spring something on me later today and the cookies are bribery." Nicholas grinned, kissing Marcy's cheek.
Donavon turned to Faith, smiling as she affectionately watched her parents cuddle. "I should warn you, Miss Trust, that if you learn how to bake like this, I am going to marry you."
* * * * *
Marcy laughed as Faith repeated the tale of that first day with Donavon. He had left the house with a stomach full of cookies and a plate for later. That was on top of asking Faith out on a real date.
Donavon had arrived promptly at 6:00 the following evening, smartly dressed in a gray suit with a black shirt and plum colored tie. Faith's brothers deliberately presented after work to grab the opportunity to tease their sister and her date. It was then that they warned Donavon of Faith's quirk regarding flowers, advising him that the roses he brought would end up hanging upside down before they ever opened. Marcy fussed with his tie, telling him how handsome he was and to ignore the antics of the rambunctious family. Nicholas agreed, praising Donavon's bravery to return to the Trust home. Donavon promptly assured him it had nothing to do with bravery, but that it was the temptation of Marcy's special cookies and their lovely, daredevil daughter.
Fa
ith shook her head as she emerged from her room, privy to hearing all the comments delivered by her family. She was genuinely surprised that Donavon felt so comfortable around so many strangers, especially those like her brothers. She entered the room as her father was explaining her name.
"Both Marcy and I come from very large families. After four boys, we were ready to try again when we found out Marcy had uterine cancer. We were devastated, needless to say. She had gone in for pre-op testing when we discovered she was pregnant. The doctors immediately recommended terminating the pregnancy with a hysterectomy, but Marcy said no." Nicholas pulled his smiling wife to sit on the arm of the chair he was in. "She said that this was our miracle child and she had faith that God would see the birth through. She also clung to hope that the cancer would neither spread nor affect the baby. She delivered Faith Hope via c-section one-month early. Happy, healthy and whole."
"And the cancer?" Donavon asked with genuine concern.
"No sign or symptom for twenty-two years," Marcy said, kissing Nicholas' forehead. "And there is our miracle baby. You look lovely, darling."
Faith blushed as Donavon stood and stared at her.
"Wow. You're beautiful," he stuttered. He handed her the roses, "I got these for you."
"I think she scared him," Charlie announced in a stage whisper, pointing to his kid sister.
"I'd be scared too, if I had to be alone with her," Doug whispered back.
Faith scowled at them. "All of you are going to have something to be afraid of if you keep this up. Mom, do something with your litter, please."
"Boys, stop teasing your sister and act like adults," Nicholas scolded half-heartedly. "Donavon, I want her home by ten."
"Daddy, be real. We'll be home when we are done. Don't wait up."
"That is not going to happen," Nicholas grunted. "It's my job to stay up, pace the floor and worry. Don't you go taking that away from me."
"Not to worry, kids," Marcy chuckled, "I have ways of distracting him from the time."
"Mom!" a chorus of five voices exclaimed together.
"Hey! We are old, not dead!" Marcy defended herself.
"That's true, " Charlie said, "They still get that warm, fuzzy feeling, they just can't remember why."
"Let's get out of here before it gets worse," Faith urged, grabbing Donavon's arm and dragging him outside.
Faith discovered that Donavon was the youngest of six boys, explaining his ease with her easy-going family. His parents were retired and had recently moved to Arizona while his brothers were scattered over the globe serving in the various armed forces. He pulled out his wallet to show her pictures of the large family, including fifteen nieces and nephews of various ages and genders.
"You must have a blast at Christmas!" Faith exclaimed. "They are so beautiful. All you boys look so alike. How did your folks tell you apart?"
"Are you kidding? My mother forgot our names every time she started hollering for us. We are all between one to two years apart plus two sets of twins. Yeah," he chuckled, looking at the pictures, "we gave the poor woman a run for her money. Pop would just sit back and laugh as she ran through the list of all our names until she finally found the one she was ticked at."
"My brothers like you. I can't remember the last time I brought a guy home where they voluntarily shared mom's cookies. You do realize that those things are like sacred gems in our home, don't you?"
"I do now," Donavon said, laughing.
"Our holidays are pretty chaotic. I have four nephews through Charlie and Doug, and a baby on the way with Larry. We are hoping for a girl," Faith sighed. "It's getting to be a bit overwhelming being the only female besides mom and my sisters-in-law."
"So everyone lives close by?" Donavon asked, opening the car door for her to exit once they arrived at the restaurant.
"Yeah, all within about a ten minute drive. It must be tough for you having your family so far away," Faith said sympathetically.
"We try to have a yearly reunion, but yeah, especially during the holidays. If I can't take leave, then I take duty. It's easier than being alone."
"Well, Lt. Fuller, this year you will join us. Don't argue," Faith shook her head. "My mind is made up. Besides, these cookies were only a taste of what my mother can do in the kitchen."
"You're a bossy little thing, aren't you?" Donavon asked with amusement, holding her chair for her as she sat.
"Got to be. What are you staring at?"
"You. I've never met anyone so open and real before."
"Don't forget cute. That is my selling point." Faith giggled.
"You are definitely cute. How tall are you? 4 feet?"
"Ha-ha. Five even. And yes, this mess of red hair is my natural color. Daddy said I looked like a pixie plucked from the bogs of Ireland and was given a double shot of the temper that came with the hair."
"My mom was Irish. I inherited her temperament, I hate to say." Donavon chuckled. "When she went on a rampage, us boys knew to run and run fast. She would start throwing Gaelic curses at us when she was really riled up. She is a no-nonsense type of lady, with little patience for playing head games or excuses. I really think you would like her."
"She sounds like my mom. Okay, you keep staring at me. What is going through your brain?"
"Your bike ride. I was serious when I said you best start wearing that helmet. You are too pretty to get your head bashed next time you challenge a hedge."
"I hate helmets. They are annoying and hot. I like to feel free, and they are too restraining."
"You will wear a helmet, Faith. Not negotiable."
"Oh yeah?" Faith grinned, leaning forward with a smile, "How are you gonna make me?"
Donavon raised his eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Unbelievable. Our first date and already you are challenging me? Your dad is right, you are an Irish pixie."
"I like challenges. It keeps life interesting," Faith giggled.
"Very well. Assuming you want to continue to go out with me after tonight." Donavon leaned forward to whisper across the small table, "I will exercise means to keep you safe and sound, little one. You want to know how I handle challenges?"
"I'm listening." Faith snickered, her nose close to his.
"I will put you across my knee and spank the tar out of your backside. Guaranteed you will think twice before you ride that bike without a helmet again."
Faith visibly trembled as her mouth went dry. Her green eyes locked with his brown ones. "You wouldn't dare," she croaked out in a husky voice.
"I think you know better than that," Donavon said with a smile, stealing a kiss before leaning back in his chair. "What would you like to eat?"
Donavon's words reverberated in her mind through the rest of the meal. Faith found herself drawn to the man like a moth to fire, as excited as he was about the instant connection they both shared. They walked along the dark pier, huddled under warm jackets as they talked softly. Small amber lights hung between the light poles, and glowed like fireflies in the light fog. The lapping of water against the pylons sounded distant and hollow, broken only by the creaking of the wood dock as it rocked beneath their feet.
"You're curious, aren't you?" Donavon suddenly asked, his large arm around Faith's shoulders.
"Curious about what?"
"Being spanked. I could tell by how you reacted. Let me get you home; it is freezing out here."
"It's early yet. I'm not ready to go home."
"Do you want to go to my place for some coffee?"
"I would love that."
Faith squealed with delight as she entered Donavon's home. It was warm and inviting, and decorated with a Cape Cod nautical theme. Antique sextons were mounted on the wall, along with a polished ship wheel and a rudder. On the far wall was a fishing net from which driftwood, sea glass and shells were suspended. A giant bronze diving helmet was mounted on a wooden pedestal next to the net.
"I love your place. It feels so... so homey. It is very much you."
"Thanks. These ar
e my reminders to steer true and follow a set course," Donavon explained, touching the wheel. "The net has stuff I bring home from my dives. My dad made me do this when I first got certified. It's dumb, but..."
"I love it. I really do. Oh, thank you," Faith said, accepting the cup of hot coffee from him.
"Sit down. I'll get the fire started."
Faith watched as Donavon stripped off his coat and tie before squatting in front of the large, stone fireplace and igniting the gas. His broad back rippled as he tossed in a couple of logs and moved them around to catch fire. Once again, she felt her mouth go dry.
"Comfy?" he asked, wrapping a soft blanket around her shoulders before sitting next to her.
"Yes, thanks. I'm really glad I almost ran into you," Faith admitted, sipping the rich beverage.
"I am too. You are a special lady, Faith. I would enjoy getting to know you better. Would you be willing to go out with me again?"
"It depends..."
"On what?" Donavon looked surprised.
Faith placed the mug on a coaster on the coffee table before turning to meet his eyes, "On whether or not your threat was serious."
"Are you still thinking about me spanking you?"
"Yeah," she blushed, "It has always been a fantasy of mine. Ever since I was a kid, I dreamed of being spanked for one thing or another. I can't believe I am telling you this. You must think I'm nuts."
"Not at all. I am a firm believer in domestic discipline. It is what kept my parents’ marriage strong and my brothers’ wives happy."
"You're joking, right?"
"No, I am dead serious. Dad couldn't always disguise the times he punished my mother when she threw a fit. Anymore than he could disguise what happened afterwards," Donavon chucked.
"TMI," Faith laughed, "I don't ever remember hearing my parents argue about anything. I want what they have."
"Let's just do this and see where we go from there."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm going to spank you."
Faith's eyes widened to the size of saucers as these words left his mouth. Fantasy and dreams were one thing, but this was real!
Eight Little Letters (I Love You) Page 2