Clean Romance: Loves of Tomorrow (Contemporary New Adult and College Amish Western Culture Romance) (Urban Power of Love Billionaire Western Collection Time Travel Short Stories)

by Unknown

  The little girl’s mother pulled her arm and tugged her body away from Chuck and Kayla. “Leave these nice people alone. We don’t have to bother them.”

  Chuck waved a dismissive hand at her. “Oh, she’s doing no harm. How are you sweetie? Are you having a good day?”

  She pouted and curved her lips into an unhappy face. “My day is bad. Mommy and I need money to visit Uncle Roy, who is in the hospital. We don’t have any money, so we can’t go.”

  Kayla’s heart sank and she was even more depressed that she didn’t have any cash to give the little girl. Kayla was a plastic lady and never had any actual cash on her.

  Chuck had some cash, though. He didn’t hesitate to reach into his pocket and pull out money for her. She distinctively noticed that he had $80 in cash. He handed over everything he had to the little girl. “Here you go honey, this should help.”

  At that very moment, Kayla’s heart beat with joy and love. She saw a new part of him – that he was 100 percent altruistic and loving. That quality hit her hard and the seed of romantic feelings was finally watered.

  The little girl’s mother started crying. Chuck was uncomfortable with how to handle it. He extended his hand and offered to help her. But as a guy, he wasn’t the atypical male who was a master at dealing with sad emotions. “Uh…You don’t have to thank me. Just visit the uncle, okay?”

  Kayla knew how to deal with it. She hugged the mother and rubbed her back softly, then finally got her calmed down. When the mom and daughter walked away, she looked over at Chuck with glowing eyes. There was newfound appreciation and attraction. It was a feeling she hadn’t permitted herself to have for a long time.

  “Sure, I’ll come to the YMCA. I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes” he hung up the phone and readied his workout clothes.

  She wanted things to grow slow and to be positive. She calculated and planned every move she made. When it came to going to the YMCA, she thought about it for fifteen minutes before asking him. She wanted something light and fun, that wouldn’t add a lot of pressure.

  She threw her workout clothes into a duffle bag and took off. She was thinking about her life. That wasn’t abnormal. The abnormal part is that she was growing deeply skeptical and pessimistic.

  She thought about how her father used to beat her. She ran her newly-manicured fingers under her shirt as she thought of the scar that was there. It was the scar that her dad had left when he violently beat her. She couldn’t quite figure out why she hated him, but was sad when he passed away just eighteen months ago.

  There were some nights where he beat her so hard that she couldn’t get to sleep because of the bodily pain. She groaned as she thought about it, then shook her head to try and get rid of the thoughts. Bottom line – it just plain sucked.

  Then she thought about Stephen. It emotionally crippled her that such a young boy was injured so badly in the accident. Was he to blame? To some extent, yes. He ran out into the road to get his ball. He was hit by a vehicle, and badly injured. He shouldn’t have run into the road.

  She didn’t think he was totally at fault though. She knew the driver of the vehicle. Much like most people that knew him, she regarded him as a useless dirt bag. Although she could never prove it, she suspected he was probably drunk, high, or maybe even both.

  If that was the case, Stephen most certainly was not to blame. No way. Then there was her father – another dig bag, albeit it a different type. He was the type of guy that would literally beat and brutalize a defenseless little girl. On the ‘immorality disgust list’ that ranked pretty high.

  So, what’s the deal with God? Why didn’t he do anything to prevent these two things? Did he care? She sarcastically wondered if he just took a nap and was asleep while everything was happening. Is God even real?

  She got pissed off at herself for even thinking that. Of course God is real. What kind of a stupid question was that? She had spent years telling people that he was real and that he should be worshipped.

  When she pulled into the YMCA and checked in at the front desk, she found Chuck sitting on a mesh, steel bench waiting for her. She waved to him and he smiled. He walked over to her, and like a gentleman, asked if he could carry her bags. She refused. She didn’t like being the recipient of the old-fashioned type.

  They kissed softly on the lips and gave each other a hug. “Thanks for inviting me,” Chuck remarked.

  She playfully patted his belly and smirked. “Well, we’ve got to get this hardened and in shape.”

  He cackled and walked with her to the changing room. She went into the ladies’ room, and he went to the men’s room.

  They met at a treadmill and started powerwalking together. He took a sip of his Gatorade and looked over at her. She looked cute. She was swinging her arms from side to side while she walked. She knew that it helped her burn more calories. It was old fitness trick that she had been using for years.

  She turned her head and caught him staring at her. When she did, he pulled his head in the other direction and looked away. “I caught you looking,” she clamored as she laughed.

  He didn’t initially say anything, but just winked at her. Finally, he spoke: “How did you know I was staring? Did you get a supernatural clue or something?”

  He wasn’t anti-Christian, but he wasn’t a believer either. He was agnostic. He didn’t see it as something that was necessary for him to have so that he could have a great life. He wanted the usual things that people seek: love, marriage, an education, and a quality job.

  She slowed down the treadmill speed, so she could concentrate more on the conversation than the workout. She was still walking at a slower rate. “It’s funny you mention that. I was just thinking about God earlier today.”

  Chuck likewise slowed his treadmill down, and listened attentively. “Yeah?”

  She continued walking, and continued talking. “I guess I’m not understanding why so many bad things happen in the world. I really hate questioning my faith, but sometimes I do.”

  He just put it plainly, mainly about how society works. “Well, time changes a lot of things. It sometimes can even change our priorities, principles, or even religious beliefs.”

  He didn’t point out anything stupid or wrong. What he said was of course, true. She wanted more advice from him though, and pressed him for answers. “So, what specifically do you think about God allowing evil? Can he stop it?”

  He shrugged his shoulders quickly, then raised his right eyebrow. “So, he’s God and has endless power and ability. Correct?”

  “Yup.”

  He started with his index finger, then moved it to his middle finger. “And he knows everything about everything. Correct?”

  She again answered in the affirmative. “Yes.”

  He moved over to his ring finger and told her exactly what he was thinking. “If those two things are true, then how could he not stop evil?”

  She wasn’t a clergy person nor was he. He wasn’t even a guy who was well-versed, or well-studied when it came to religion. He just took the facts and presented them based on how he perceived and interpreted reality.

  When he asked her that question, she paused and thought it over. In short, she didn’t have an answer for him. She didn’t see any need for evil to exist or prosper. She ruled out any kind of notion that God couldn’t stop it. She came to the conclusion that God wouldn’t stop it.

  When their workout was over, they kissed each other goodbye and she drove home. She would go home, make herself dinner, then go to sleep. It was easy.

  But, was Stephen’s life easy? Was her life easy when she was being beaten by her father? Obviously, not! When she went to bed that night, she prayed as she always did. She prayed to God and asked for peace and understanding. Her grief and sadness was wearing heavy. It started to throw punches at her long-standing Christian faith.

  Before she closed her eyes and snoozing off, she thought about what Chuck had said and visualized him pointing to his ring finger. She calculated that sh
e would never again look at his ring finger the same way. She was right.

  *****

  “I do!” said Kayla as she smiled into her new-husband’s eyes. She was giddy about the fact that she finally met the man of her dreams and that they would get to spend the rest of their lives together.

  She and Chuck walked down the aisle and left the church. Doug, Sheila, and even Stephen smiled over at her. Stephen was a few years older, but he was still widely regarded as a wonderful child of God.

  When they left the church, they went home together for the first time and shared the bed. As is custom in Christianity, the two did not live together before the marriage and saved themselves for sex after the knot was tied.

  When they left for their Cancun honeymoon, Doug and Sheila presented them with a $3,000 check that they said wasn’t a big deal. It brought tears to Kayla’s eyes, though. “Oh, my gosh! $3,000? You didn’t have to do that!”

  Doug gave a quiet chuckle and dismissed her objection. “I want you kids to have a nice time. Just go and have fun.”

  They did exactly that. They went to Cancun for a few weeks, then came back and started their lives together. They shared dreams and inspirations with each other. They were truly in love, and it showed.

  Chuck got his dream job – he worked as a Vice President of Operations at a marketing company. Kayla was looking forward to being a mom especially since she was two months pregnant. Given that it was only one year after the marriage, it came quickly. Not that it mattered. She was happy and didn’t care.

  Her happiness and optimism didn’t last long. Something was wrong with Chuck and it was getting worse. It began with him having mild headaches, then the headaches slowly got worse. Then he had trouble sleeping at night and found himself getting easily confused.

  It was a new problem. He didn’t have any major headaches when he was younger and didn’t seem to have any bouts of depression or confusion. At Kayla’s pesky insistence, he finally agreed and visited his doctor.

  “How long has this been going on? Do you have any other symptoms? Have you had any respiratory or digestive issues?”

  Those were just a few questions that Dr. Korick asked him. Just a few. Korick asked a ton of questions which made Chuck wonder what he was thinking. Part of him was truly annoyed. He just wanted to be given pills, go home, and then take the pills to feel better.

  To his great annoyance, that’s not what happened. They scheduled him for a CAT scan, which he had a few weeks later. In the meantime, he was given some meds that only helped to some degree – Oxycodone, among others.

  Then he got a phone call from Korick. It was stunning, horrible, and frightening all rolled into one. He held his cellphone to his ear and froze into place when the news was delivered. “We have found a mass on your brain. You have brain cancer. I’m so sorry. I was hoping I could deliver better news.”

  He asked a few follow up questions, just to inform himself to make decisions about how to move forward. “What kind of treatment is available?”

  Korick nailed him with more bad news. “This is the type of cancer that we can treat with both surgery and chemotherapy. I really hate the fact that the odds of the treatment succeeding are low, though. There’s still at least an eighty percent chance of fatality. Actually, it’s close to ninety percent.”

  “And how long do I have if I don’t get treatment?” he asked as he sighed.

  Korick tapped his fingers over his desk because he felt terrible that he couldn’t deliver any good news. “Without treatment? Just weeks. I would give it less than twelve weeks.”

  “Thanks, doc,” he hung up the phone while the doctor was still speaking.

  He wasn’t mad or angry at the doctor. He just needed to let it sit in and think about how to tell his wife. Not only would she be losing him, she would be losing the father of her unborn baby.

  He grilled hamburgers that night and he plopped the burger onto a thick, white bun. He saturated it with ketchup, mustard, and then piled on some onions and pickles. The 1/3 pound of meat was medium rare, and it juiced a mouth-watering feeling.

  He bit into his burger and took a few chomps. He tried to act normal and not reveal anything, but he just didn’t do well. Women, especially Kayla, have a skill of detecting trouble and bad feelings. “You look dreary. Is something bothering you?”

  He took another big bite of his burger and chewed deeply on it. He had only a few more seconds that he could stall. He would then either have to lie to her, or tell the truth – which was also awful. After a strong gulp, he reached across the table to gently take her hand.

  She grew anxious and started asking herself what he would say. Would he confess to her that he was having an affair? Would he tell her that he wanted a divorce? She had no idea what was coming, and it was even worse than she could have imagined. “So, the doctor called…”

  She looked into his eyes, with her beautiful, blue eyes. “What did he say?”

  He gave and held a gentle squeeze over her hand. “He said that I’ve got brain cancer.”

  She dropped the fork that she was holding in her other hand. She wasn’t sure what to say, but her first inkling was to breed denial. “No, he’s not right. There must be some sort of mistake.”

  That was always one of her character flaws. When something awful happened, she would deny that it was true. It somewhat irritated Chuck, and he tried to gently lead her into reality. “It’s not a mistake. That’s what they found from the CAT scan. I have it. It’s real.”

  Her lower lip began to tremble and tears sprung out of her eyes. Yet again, she saw herself as the victim who received a punishment that she didn’t deserve. It was unfair to her. She was a good person, who tried really hard and loved God. Why then, would he do this to her?

  She closed her eyes in attempt to hold back the tears, then took a deep breath. After a few more seconds, she reopened her eyes and asked the ironically killer question. “How bad is it?”

  He pulled his head to both sides – left, then right. He tried to make the explanation clear, and plain. “Well, I asked about that. The doctor said that we can do surgery and chemo, but it has a low chance at success. Without treatment, he gave me just two to three months.”

  She inhaled, and then exhaled deeply. “So, when does treatment begin?”

  He pulled his eyes away from her for just a second, then put them back on her. “I’m not going to get treatment. The thought of suffering through something that probably won’t work, just to delay the inevitable – doesn’t make sense to me.”

  She angrily shot up from her seat, and pointed her index finger at her slightly protruding stomach. “And what about this?! Does staying alive for your baby make sense to you?”

  He looked at her finger pointing at her belly and felt guilty. Of course, he wanted to know and love his baby. The problem is that he saw the world through only a basic lens. If he took the treatment and lived, say, another year. The baby would develop, but not to a point where it would even remember him. As a practical matter, it didn’t make a difference for him – at least not to the point where he would change his mind.

  Rather than arguing or get nasty with her, he stood up and walked away from the dining room table. He retreated into the bedroom and quietly closed the door. There were many thoughts racing through his mind. For his liking, it was way too many. He liked concentrating on just one major issue at a time. Nothing less, and nothing more.

  She took her ceramic plate and slammed into onto the countertop – shattering the ceramic. God had again handed her a major tragedy that she didn’t deserve. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She thought about the people on Earth who tripped and stumbled their way into success, and others who failed no matter how hard they tried.

  She pulled out her phone and dialed a familiar number that she kept for years – her pastor. She got through to him after just two rings. “This is Pastor Rick.”

  She sobbed loudly into the phone and tried to hurl out the importa
nt info. She couldn’t sensibly gather it into one sentence. “Rick! Chuck…has got…cancer. The brain…cancer!”

  Rick moaned and hated these type of phone calls. He didn’t hate them because he hated the person, he just couldn’t always find the strength to reason through them. “Kayla, I am so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need my help?”

  She told him that she was hurting, which was absolutely true. She just made it clear what she wanted from him. “Can we meet? I need to talk to you.”

  She didn’t have to ask twice. He told her to stay put and got in his car to go meet her. When he arrived at her home, he noticed she was alone and was sitting silently at the dinner table. He thanked her for letting him come over.

  He looked around the room and noticed something obvious – Chuck wasn’t there. He pointed into the empty air and remarked, “Chuck’s not here?”

  She shook her head in disagreement. “He’s here. He just went into the bedroom. I want to talk to just you, though.”

  He energetically bounced his head up and down in a nod. He sat on a chair in the dining room and hunched over and pressed his palms to his kneecaps. “You can start whenever you’re ready. I’m listening.”

  She angrily gritted her teeth together, then released. “I’m mad at two people. I’m mad at him for refusing treatment. I’m also mad at God. Right now, I’m too pissed to know who I’m madder at.”

  He shot his head back and flashed quick blinks through both eyes. He was stunned to hear her say that she was mad at God. He sure didn’t expect to hear such a thing come from her. He saw her to be one of the most faithful Christians he knew. “You’re mad at God? Because of what is happening to Chuck?”

  “No. I’m mad at him for a lot more than that” she said as she slapped the back of her right hand against her palm.

  “Then, what else?”

  She ran her fingers through the soft scalp of blond hair, and blurted it right out. “I’m mad because I spent years getting physically abused. I’m mad because Stephen is going to be severely injured for the rest of his life. Then, yes, I’m mad because of what is happening to Chuck.”