"The Proposition" - Short Story - April 2012

  “You’re trying to be funny, but I’m not amused.  I suppose they would likely miss the sight of you more than me.”

   “Glad you think that much of me, but trust me, they want to eat.  The sermon may have filled their spirits, but I don’t believe it did a thing for their appetites.”

  “You saying you went to church tonight?”  I had to look directly at him despite myself and almost laughed out loud. 

  “Maybe…  Not.”

  “I figured as much,” I said through quiet giggles, but settled myself when I accidently met eyes with the pastor across the room and shivered.  His collar was as crisp & stiff as the lines on his face. Abel didn’t even notice.

  “Come on out with me,” he said after a moment, nodding his head in the direction of the exit.  “I promise I’ll be good.”

  “You shouldn’t lie in the presence of…”  I glanced towards the pastor.

  “I’m sure he’s heard worse.”

  “Hearing a thing and seeing it are two different things.” 

  “Then maybe we should do something different.”  He reached for my hand but I pulled away. 

  “I’m not ready for that,” I said a little too fast. “You’re not ready either.”

  “How do you know what I am ready for?  How do you know you’re not?”

  “Cause I’m not.”  I suddenly felt a little off-guard for a moment but I knew I was right.  “Some things just shouldn’t be rushed.  What we have for now is how it should stay.  Isn’t that enough?”

  “Maybe for you.”  He had the nerve to smile at me again.

    “Oh, Abel.” I spoke his name so sincerely I should have pinched myself.

  “Damn, I love it when you say my name.”

  “Should I go back to calling you something else?”  I had a few choice words already on the edge on my tongue.

  “Not until I can get you somewhere in private.”

  “Is that all you have on your mind to say?”

  “No.  But something too serious is bound to spoil the mood.”

  “I don’t mean to do that.  You know I don’t mean it.”

  “Then let me hold your hand.  Or is that a little too much to ask?”

    “So you’re really going to do this?  Right here in front of everyone?”  My resistance was dropping so low I didn’t know what to say.

  “Pretty much, but I’m not forcing you,” he said pointing toward the waitress at the register.  “Your order has been ready since we got here.”

  “Oh. Then I guess I should go,” I said calmly, hiding my immediate shame with a tiny smile as I started away.  “Glad you got to see me.”

   “And it was very good to see you too,” he said sweetly behind me.

  I had started out the door when the notion hit me to look back for him, but he was already nowhere in sight.  The collection of faces I did see caused my imagination to run a little wild and the thought of someone suddenly casting stones (or dinner rolls) didn’t seem that far out of reach. 

  Outside across the parking lot, it didn’t take long to figure just where Abel had gone.  Finding him leaned up against my car with his arms folded across his chest and grinning from ear to ear was just the move I should have previously suspected.  To be honest, I was sort of counting on it.

  “One – You’ve got a lot of nerve playing the game with me in public without warning.  Especially the church public.” I poked him in the ribs for effect.  “Two – You approached me without speaking to me first.  Three - The use of your hands went beyond a simple friendly greeting.  So Four – There was nothing new for either of us to learn from the experience.”  I pushed him to the side and unlocked my car.  Before I could open the door, he pulled me around to face him and pressed his body against me.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said as he kissed up and down my neck.  “One – Courting in public is exactly what you need to loosen your fears of emotional and physical expression.  Public or otherwise. Two & three – Speaking with my hands is a form of flattery shared by many men in concern to the one they so desire.  So four, I think we both learned for sure that I will always come to you regardless to what may stand in my way.”

  “So peer pressure, religious indignation, or even embarrassment, none of that really bothers you?”

  “What bothers me is not being able to pull you out of your shell.”

  “Old wounds are hard to heal,” I said fighting my emotions as he took me in his arms and held me close.  “But you know I am trying.  I really am.”

  “I know,” he said with a kiss to my head.  “That’s why I am still here.  But you really need to know that every living person knows or would like to know the feeling of being loved and wanted.  Showing affection, within reason, is as easy as breathing.  That is the point I was trying to make. What we do in private is strictly just about us.” 

“Well I guess that’s it then,” I said a little breathless, loading my food into the passenger seat.  “You bring the dessert and I’ll see you there.”

  With that same familiar smile that I could hardly resist no matter what he said or did, he gave me a quick kiss and jogged back into the restaurant.  He was only going to be a minute behind me, I knew, because that is how it has always been.  Thing is, though we didn’t officially belong to each other, what we had for the moment was still the best that we could be.  Because;

                    ♫ The only one who could ever reach me.  Was the son of a Preacher man.  ♪ 

                       ♪ The only boy who could ever teach me.  Was the son of a Preacher man. ♫  

Yes he was.  He was.  Oh yes he was…