Stay With Me

by Astfalk, Carolyn

  “So that’s what the kids are calling it these days.” Father John grabbed the menus from where they were leaning behind the ketchup bottle and handed Chris two.

  “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Hey, can I ask you something quick before Rebecca gets back?”

  “Shoot.”

  Rebecca was nowhere in sight, but Chris lowered his voice anyway. “I’m going to ask Rebecca to marry me.”

  “I thought that might be happening soon. Good for you. When are you going to ask her?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but there’s something I’d like your opinion on. I asked Alan, but I don’t know if I agree with him.”

  “Uh, marriage proposals aren’t my area of expertise, but I’ll give it a shot.”

  “It’s not that. I’d never given it a whole lot of thought, but I always figured that when I asked a girl to marry me, I’d ask for her father’s blessing first. I don’t even have a relationship with Rebecca’s dad. Frankly, I can’t stand him, and I don’t think I’m overstating things by saying he hates me. My first inclination was to bypass him completely, but then I thought maybe I could engender some good feelings between us by asking.”

  Father John stared a couple seconds, tapping his fingers lightly on the menu. “No. Don’t ask him. It’s a nice enough custom if you want to ingratiate yourself with your future father-in-law, but I wouldn’t put it past him to withhold his blessing. Then you’re in the position of defying him, which would make matters worse, not better.”

  “Alan said the same thing. I guess I’m trying to hold onto the hope that he might reconsider his opinion of me.”

  “Here’s the other thing. If this guy is abusive, you don’t want him to think he has more power than he does. Rebecca is a grown woman. It’s her decision to marry you or not. He has no say in the matter. Don’t let him think he does. He’s her dad, and he can offer her counsel, for whatever that’s worth, but that’s about it.”

  “Okay. I agree. It’s between me and her. Thank you.”

  “Glad to help.”

  Rebecca walked back to the table, and Chris rose to let her slide into the booth next to him. “Miss me?”

  “Always.” Chris swung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.

  Father John rolled his eyes. “I’ve got my dentist on speed dial.”

  Chris laughed.

  “Your dentist?” Rebecca’s eyes darted back and forth between them.

  “Never mind,” Chris and Father John answered in unison.

  “I think for Father John’s sake we might want to dial down the syrupy sweetness a notch.”

  “If I remember correctly, Father John, you actually had a thing for sweets. I seem to remember you with an ever-present package of Swedish Fish on you.”

  Father John smiled. “That was that summer, huh? I do still like those.”

  “Good to know.” Rebecca smiled and then stopped as she listened intently to the music coming from the overhead speaker. “This song—is it Dave Matthews?”

  Father John listened to a few bars. “Isn’t this one of those American Idol guys? He had one of those redundant names. Chuck Charles or William Williams?”

  Chris laughed. “Phillip Phillips. He’s been compared to Dave Matthews a lot.” He turned to Rebecca and patted her leg. “You’re getting warmer.”

  Finally the waitress arrived and took their orders for drinks and lunch.

  “Hey, Father John, how did it turn out with that tough decision you were telling me about?” Chris didn’t want to say too much since he didn’t know how much Father John would want to share with Rebecca. The last time they had spoken it had seemed like it was weighing heavily on him, and he didn’t want Father John to think he had forgotten.

  “Hmmm? Oh—that.” He looked at Rebecca and explained in a way that wouldn’t exclude her from the conversation. “I had someone come to me for pastoral counseling, but what she really needed was professional counseling.” He turned to Chris. “I steered her in the right direction.”

  It seemed like an awfully pat answer to a problem that vexed him and had him philosophizing about the nature of right and wrong. Before Chris could follow it up with a question, Father John changed the subject.

  “So, I’ve been charged with doing the preliminary interviews for a new youth minister. What do you think I should be looking for?”

  And just like that they were on to something else. Either he had worked it all out, or he didn’t want to talk about it. If Chris had to guess, he’d say it was the latter.

  ***

  The fall weather had been perfect for day hikes, and that’s what Rebecca and Chris had been doing every Saturday for the past month. Chris knew where all the good trails were, and they had hiked through Saint Anthony’s Wilderness, a couple of state parks, and even some sections of the Appalachian Trail. After a few rugged climbs, Rebecca realized falling in love with Chris had the unexpected result of getting her in the best shape of her life.

  To her surprise, Chris had sold his newly-repaired motorcycle several weeks earlier, so the time they would have spent on the back of his bike cruising two-lane roads along corn fields and apple orchards was freed up for hiking. Today’s hike had a steep incline with a series of switchbacks that Chris promised would pay off with a spectacular view of the Susquehanna River north of Harrisburg.

  He wasn’t lying.

  When they reached the top, Rebecca flopped onto a big, cold rock and stared out at the wide, shallow river as it snaked through the valley. Tiny islands dotted the center of the river, and mild riffles created small patches of white in the green water. Jagged rocks jutted from the shores. The trees covering the mountain on the western side of the river were magnificent in their fall brilliance. Reds, oranges, and yellows melded into a pageantry of all that was autumn. As if it knew it couldn’t compete with the trees’ opulent display, the sky filled with bleak, billowing clouds characteristic of November, a patch of denim-colored sky exposed here and there. Rebecca inhaled the musty fragrance of decaying leaves and savored the unique bittersweet beauty that was fall.

  She pulled her water bottle out of her small pack and drank half of it in seconds. Chris took a seat next to her as she pulled her legs up in front of her on the rock. He bumped her playfully with his shoulder. Well, she assumed he meant to be playful, but it left her teetering on the edge of the rock and putting a hand out for balance.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” she said, bumping him back. It didn’t have the same effect. He didn’t budge. She raised her water bottle to her lips as she continued to look out over the river.

  “Will you marry me?”

  She did a spit take, coughing and sputtering as Chris’s palm smacked her firmly on the back. “You okay?”

  Rebecca nodded and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. He had her full attention now. “Come again?”

  His eyes weren’t kidding; they were dead serious, and he stretched a hand out and stroked her cheek.

  “Will you be my wife?” Seconds passed. His voice grew softer. “Bear my children?” More seconds, and this time his voice cracked. “Grow old with me?”

  Blinking slowly, she stared. If he was trying to surprise her, he had succeeded. “How can you be so nonchalant?”

  He withdrew his hand and rubbed it on his pants. “Is that how it’s coming off? Because I’m dying inside.”

  After a few seconds to process what was happening, she recognized his apprehension. His brows knit in worry and his eyes searched her face, looking for some indication of which way this was going to go. “If you need some time to think about it . . .”

  Her answer tumbled out over his words. “No.”

  His expression didn’t change. “No, you don’t need time to think or no, you won’t marry me?”

  Poor Chris. She needed to think straight and make sense. “No, I don’t need time. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  He relaxed his posture and let out a breath. He smiled
at her then, enough for his dimples to show. “Let’s make it official.”

  He slid off the rock and dug in his pants pocket, then knelt on one knee in front of her. Taking her left hand, he slid a white gold band with a huge princess cut diamond onto her ring finger. She covered her mouth with her free hand as she continued to stare at the ring that was so obviously bigger than his salary would allow.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful, but it must have cost—”

  “Uh-uh.” He shook his head as he took a seat beside her on the rock again. “It’s taken care of, and I’m not bringing debt into our marriage.”

  Our marriage. Her heart skipped. “But Chris—”

  It dawned on her then—the only way he could come up with the cash. “You sold your motorcycle for this ring.” He didn’t deny it, and she knew it was true. “You loved that bike.”

  He shook his head again. “I love you.” He slid his hand along her neck, behind her ear and wound his fingers through her hair.

  She closed the small distance between them and kissed her fiancé for the first time. After a couple of minutes, the fiery kiss that started to burn out of control was interrupted by a “Who Let the Dogs Out” ringtone in the distance followed by the sounds of boys’ laughter. Chris ended the kiss and looked behind them.

  “Cub scouts,” he grumbled. “I know their motto is ‘be prepared,’ but I doubt they have a contingency for finding a couple making out at their hiking vista.”

  “Probably not.” Rebecca grabbed her bottle that had rolled to the ground and stuffed it into her pack. It didn’t matter if they headed back down. Whatever the elevation, she knew her head would be in the clouds for days, maybe weeks.

  Eight boys in matching orange tee shirts mounted the summit and streamed around the large rock, exclaiming at the view. As Chris and Rebecca vacated the boulder, the boys climbed atop it and hurled small rocks and twigs ahead of them over the mountainside. A couple of haggard-looking middle-aged guys finally caught up with the boys, quickly dropping their packs and their bottoms onto a log. The boys discussed which bones were likely to break if a person fell from the overlook onto the ledge. One of them pointed skyward and yelled, “Look—it’s a bald eagle.”

  Rebecca thought they had most likely mistaken a red-tailed hawk for an eagle, but sure enough, a bald eagle circled the sky above them.

  Chris adjusted his pack at the shoulders. “That is cool,” he said in her ear.

  “Maybe it’s an omen.”

  “About what?”

  He nuzzled her neck, and she had trouble thinking. “Our marriage.”

  “Well, it symbolizes courage, strength, faith in God. I guess we’ll need all those things.”

  Before she could respond, a small voice said, “Lady, your boot is untied.”

  A boy about Ricky’s age, thin and tow-headed, pointed at her boot.

  “Oh, thank you.” She stepped out from under Chris’s arm and walked over to a small rock where she could prop her foot while she re-tied her laces. It took her three tries because she kept being distracted by the rock on her ring finger sparkling in a sunbeam that poked through the trees behind her.

  Chris spoke to another boy a couple of yards away just loud enough for her to overhear.

  “See that pretty girl over there tying her boot? I just asked her to marry me.”

  “Did she say yes?”

  “She did.” She could feel the happiness radiating from him when he said it, and she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

  “Are you going to kiss her?”

  Rebecca glanced over and saw the boy looking up at Chris. The boy scrunched up his face as if it were the most repulsive idea imaginable.

  “She might have cooties. Should I?” Chris darted a look her way and winked.

  “Yeah!” So much for the revulsion; his head bobbed up and down and his little face lit.

  “Is that a dare?” Chris asked.

  “Yeah. Double-dare.”

  Chris made an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, but only because it’s a dare. A guy can’t be too careful about cooties, you know.”

  She stood and waited for Chris to reach her.

  He grabbed her fingertips and squeezed. “I have to kiss you. I was dared.”

  “Double-dared.” The kid meant business.

  “Oh, well, if it was a dare . . .”

  Chris leaned in, and just before his lips touched hers, he pulled back.

  “You don’t have cooties, do you?”

  By now four or five of the boys were gathered around, and the tow-headed kid whispered, “He’s going to kiss her.”

  “No. No, cooties. But I have been bitten by a bug. The love bug.”

  The boys groaned at her corny joke, and she laughed.

  “I’ll take my chances,” Chris said, before pressing a soft, sweet, and chaste kiss on her lips. Then he whispered in her ear. “It’s hard for me to stop at that anymore. We’d better go before we get in trouble.”

  Then he turned to the boys, stepped in front of Rebecca and waved his hands. “Show’s over, boys. No cooties here. Have a good hike.”

  They smiled at the scout leaders as they headed toward the trail that would take them over the other side of the mountain.

  “Did you really just get engaged?” the shorter, stockier of the two men asked.

  “Yes, we did,” Chris answered him.

  They both offered their congratulations, and the taller guy apologized if the boys had ruined their celebration. “Not at all,” Chris said, “they made it even more memorable.”

  He and Rebecca got back on the trail, and when they reached the switchbacks, they took a break. Rebecca leant against a big oak tree and admired the light playing off her diamond.

  Chris held her hand. “It looks a lot better on your finger than it looked in the case.”

  She smiled and then felt it fade as she remembered. “Chris, your motorcycle. I don’t need a big ring. Something small and simple would have been fine.”

  Chris dropped her hand and rested his arm against the tree. “It’s not just the ring, Rebecca. It wasn’t cheap, but it’s not worth as much as the motorcycle. I don’t expect your dad to foot the bill for our wedding when he likely won’t even approve of it. I’m sure my parents will want to help out, but I still probably can’t give you the wedding of your dreams. I’d at least like it to resemble that though. Not to mention I want a long honeymoon with you. At least ten days.”

  “But Chris, I don’t need—”

  He stopped her with a hand laid gently over her mouth. “It’s not up for discussion. I will happily go along with almost anything for the wedding and the reception, but what’s done is done. I’m not willing to reconsider.”

  When she nodded, he grinned and took his hand away. “Now that you’ve said ‘yes,’ which I hoped you would, I have something else I want you to consider.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Once we get married, whether we live at my apartment or your apartment or somewhere else, our expenses shouldn’t go up much. Rent and utilities are about the same for one or two; I can support us on my income. You don’t have to decide now, but I’d like you to think about quitting your job and going back to school. Culinary school or pastry chef school—wherever it is people learn to bake fancy desserts.”

  Her heart swelled with love for him. “You would do that for me?” Her eyes grew all watery again.

  His hand stroked her cheek. “Yes. Rebecca, I want to make all your dreams come true.”

  “You already have. And I don’t need time to think about it. I’ll do it. I want to make you proud of me. Baking is something I can do as much or as little as we want when we have children.” She threw both arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too….hey, let’s get down this mountain so we can go tell our families.”

  “Okay.” She wiped a few tears from her eyes with her fingertips. “Abby is going to be so
excited.”

  “That reminds me. I do have one non-negotiable stipulation about the wedding and reception.”

  “What’s that?”

  “At no time is your sister to have access to a live microphone.”

  Rebecca laughed. “No argument there.”

  22

  Some Devil

  “Dammit, Rebecca. Why did you have to get so good at that?” Chris paced her apartment, alternately running his hands through his hair and drying his palms on his jeans.

  “Maybe kissing is one of my hidden talents,” she said from the corner of the couch where she fluffed the cushion and rearranged the pillows they had squashed.

  Chris stopped and sighed. “I may as well take my pillow and sleep in the confessional for all the time I spend there.”

  “I thought I was the one with hang-ups. You don’t have to run off to confession every time we kiss.”

  “No,” he said on another sigh. “I don’t. It’s just—” What could he say? She would be his wife in less than two months. He could say the truth.

  “There’s a certain amount of lust tangled up in my love for you. And, well, I need the extra shot of grace.” There. That was most of the truth. Getting so turned on he couldn’t see straight and then going home to an empty apartment. She got that, didn’t she? He didn’t need to elaborate.

  He turned back toward her and saw that she got it—if not all the details, she got that despite the fact that they had each committed to the idea before they met, waiting had become difficult for him.

  “I’m sorry.” Rebecca uncurled her legs, rose from the couch, and placed a hand on each of his arms. “It’s not that this doesn’t get me going. Believe me, if we were already married, I would have already torn every inch of fabric—”

  “Not helping, Rebecca.”

  “Sorry. Again. I was trying to say I understand. It’s not easy for me either.” She paused a second and spoke with obvious reluctance in her tone. “Maybe we need to lay off a little bit. No more marathon kissing sessions. We should go out and do something instead of hanging around one of our apartments with nothing to entertain us but each other.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.”