sample chapter:

molly mommy?

Chapter 1

“Molly, this is for you.” Mrs. Schultz, my boss and manager of the Idaho State University Bookstore, handed me a white envelope during a rare slow moment at the cash register. Then she turned around and walked back into her office. The fall semester had started two weeks earlier, and traffic in the bookstore was finally settling down to a manageable flow.

Kassie, my coworker and salvation during those hectic afternoon hours, leaned over from her register next to mine in an attempt to get my attention. “What was that all about?”

I shrugged my shoulders as I turned the long white envelope over and over in my hands. A sense of dread began to settle deep within my stomach. Was I being reprimanded, or worse, fired? That would be awful. As newlyweds and full-time students, Gordon and I were barely surviving on ramen noodles and macaroni and cheese. Okay, I’m exaggerating—a little. We also ate a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and homemade potato soup. How could we possibly make ends meet if I lost this job?

“Are you going to open it or just stare at it?” Kassie asked.

“Okay, okay,” I replied as I slid my finger under the corner flap of the envelope and began to rip the seal.

As I pulled out a folded piece of pink construction paper, my stomach quickly settled, and my heart began to swell. I immediately noticed that familiar handwriting on the outside of an obviously homemade card.

“Sooooo, what is it?” Since there weren’t any customers at the moment, Kassie had walked around her register and was now standing at my side.

I showed her the front of the card, and she read it out loud. “Happy Anniversary.” My friend and co-workers voice suddenly elevated in pitch. “Oooooh, how sweet! I had no idea it was your anniversary today.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s not.”

“Then why the anniversary card?” I could hear the confusion in Kassie’s voice but could only offer one explanation.

“That’s just Gordon.”  I opened the card and read the words to myself.

To My Molly on our “Triple-3” anniversary. The past three months, three weeks, and three days have been the best of my life.  I swapped schedules with Todd so we could celebrate tonight. I’ll pick you up as soon as you get off work.

I love you, Molly.

Yours, Gordon

“Well?” Kassie asked.

“He loves me,” I replied and began to read the contents of the card for a second time.

“And…?” Over the past two months of working with Kassie, I had learned that the girl was a hopeless romantic. And impatient. She was obviously fishing for details, so I decided to take her out of her misery and handed her the card.

Mrs. Schultz walked out of her office again, so Kassie, with card in hand, wandered back around to her register and tried to look busy. I could tell, however, that she was dying to read the card.

Classes must have let out because the bookstore suddenly became busy. A line soon formed at my register, and for the next twenty-five minutes I hardly had time to think of anything beyond scanning textbooks, school supplies, and other student paraphernalia. These moments were both welcomed, and dreaded. Staying busy like this definitely made time pass by quickly, but it was also monotonous work—you’ve scanned one textbook, you’ve scanned a million. It certainly helped to keep my educational goals in perspective; I didn’t want to be standing at a register for the rest of my life.

Finally, with fifteen minutes left until closing and an almost empty store, Kassie and I wandered over to the magazine and candy racks to straighten things up and, of course, talk.

Kassie withdrew the card from her apron pocket and handed it back to me with a sigh. “I would love to find a guy like Gordon to write me love letters and sweep me off my feet.”

A Snickers bar was sitting in the Milky Way box, so I returned it to its proper place while responding, “What about that guy you went out with last week? What was his name?”

“You mean Bruce?” Kassie rolled her eyes as she said his name. “I highly doubt I’ll be seeing much of him again outside of our Psychology class.”

“Why? He seemed pretty nice when he came by to pick you up. Not so bad looking either.”

Kassie put her hands on her hips while shifting her weight. “Where should I start? When he put his wad of chewed-up gum on the edge of his dinner plate, and then plopped it back in his mouth after eating a barbeque beef sandwich? Or how about when I caught him picking his nose and then wiping it on the floor of his car—disgusting!”

“Everyone picks their nose, Kassie. I’m pretty sure even Gordon does.”

I laughed.

Kassie didn’t.

We headed over to the office supplies and started straightening the pens and markers. “I want somebody romantic,” Kassie continued. “Somebody who will switch his work schedule so that we can celebrate our ‘Triple-3’ anniversary.”

I looked over at Kassie and couldn’t help but be reminded of myself only a year earlier when I was attending BYU-Idaho in Rexburg. I was so caught up in the notion of what I thought it would be like to fall in love, so caught up in who I thought the man-of-my-dreams was (and I was wrong, by the way), that I almost didn’t recognize him when he literally “waltzed” into my life in our ballroom dance class. Gordon has been one big surprise after another since we first met.

“The best advice I can give you,” I said, “is to expect the unexpected when it comes to falling in love.”

“That sounds like a cheesy trailer for a chick-flick.”

I shrugged my shoulders because I certainly didn’t have the answers. The only thing I knew for certain was that I loved Gordon, and he loved me. The rest of our life together would have to find a way of working itself out.

At 6:00 p.m. Kassie and I and the other employees left the ISU Bookstore while Mrs. Schultz locked up. I was thrilled that my shift was over and beyond thrilled that I wasn’t scheduled to work again until Monday. My homework was already starting to pile up, and I definitely needed the weekend to get a handle on things.

True to his word, Gordon was there to pick me up, and in his hand he held a wrapped box with a little bow on top.

“You got me a gift,” I said, as Gordon handed over the box. It was then that I noticed the wrapping paper was actually the comic strip section from the Sunday newspaper that our landlords, the Kendalls, gave to us every Monday.

We lived in half of the Kendalls’ basement, which had been transformed into an apartment. They had six children, and the apartment gave them an extra income while allowing Sister Kendall to be a stay-at-home mom. And for us, the apartment—which we lovingly referred to as The Cave (the lighting wasn’t so great), was simply our little piece of heaven. It had a living room (half of which doubled as a dining area), a hallway-like kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom, and a very large walk-in closet off of the living room which we transformed into an office.

“Hey, special days call for special gifts,” Gordon said while giving me that impish grin. Even though we’d been married an entire summer, Gordon could still make my heart flutter. Possibly because now that we were man and wife, I hardly ever saw the guy—especially since school started.

Between our respective class schedules and my job at the bookstore and Gordon’s jobs tutoring and stocking shelves at Albertsons, sometimes we were together only when we were asleep. To aid in our attempt to stay connected, we kept a journal of sorts—a fifty-cent spiral notebook—on the kitchen table so we could at least communicate in some form. This evening, however, all of our communication would be in person. What a treat!

After giving Gordon a huge hug and kiss, I held up the gift. “Can I open it now?”

“Of course.”

Never being one with much patience, I ripped off the wrapping paper to unveil a beautiful box of fudge-covered Oreos—my favorite cookie in the universe. I could hardly control my enthusiasm and gave my husband an enormous hug and kiss outside the bookstore, this time a little longer on the kiss part. Thank goodness my boss and fellow employees had left and the hall was relatively empty.

“I have two more surprises.” Gordon said with enthusiasm. “The last one involves a candlelit dinner featuring my spectacular homemade tuna casserole with crumbled-up potato chips on top.”

“Mmmmmm.” I patted my belly, although I was skeptical about the crumbled potato chip part.

“And the second one is at the gym. We’ll have to drive over so I can show it to you.”

“You sure are going all out for some hugs and kisses tonight.” I said with a smile.

“Actually, I was shooting for the dutiful-and-attentive-husband angle. But now that you mention it…” Gordon raised his eyebrows twice, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’ll get more kisses soon enough,” I replied. “Let’s go see what this gym business is about. You have my curiosity piqued.”

Gordon’s rusty old suburban was parked outside, and in no time we had pulled in front of the Reed Gym, with its huge mascot, an orange and black Bengal tiger statue, standing guard outside.

As we held hands and walked to the entrance, I speculated on this surprise—an almost frightening experience. With Gordon Nelson involved, anything was possible. “Let’s see, you reserved the dance studio and we’re going to relive our ‘Fred and Ginger’ days?” Last year at BYU-Idaho we were ballroom dance partners—a fate I will be eternally grateful for.

“Nope. A nice thought, but when did we ever need a dance studio to do a little tango?” Gordon spun me around in the parking lot so I was facing him, but we only got a few steps into our spontaneous little dance before a car started to back out, heading right toward us. Gordon quickly pulled me out of harm’s way, and we decided to save the dance for a little later on.

We were only a few feet into the gym when Gordon led me toward a bulletin board and pointed to a notice.

“What do you think?” He prodded.

It took a while for me to say anything because I had to read and then reread the paper. Then I had to digest its contents.

“You really think I should do this?” I asked.

“Why not?” Gordon replied with confidence. “You were the star of your high-school basketball team, and you’ve beat me at every game of one-on-one that we’ve ever played. You can even beat me at Horse.”

“No offense, sweetie. But…well…you’re not exactly Michael Jordan, and neither am I. There’s no-way I’d make the cut on the ISU women’s basketball team.”

Gordon tapped the paper. Look! It says right here that there are two walk-on positions available. I don’t see why one of them couldn’t be you. You’re a natural athlete, Molly. Go for it.”

“And when will I fit all the practices into my schedule?”

“You can quit the bookstore. I’ll get another part-time job.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do anything to make my Molly happy,” Gordon replied, but this time the smile was gone. I knew he was serious.

After giving Gordon yet another kiss, I started leading him back toward the door. “We’ll think about it, okay. Now let’s go have some tuna casserole. And did you mention something about candlelight?”

Gordon’s blue eyes lit up. And once again, my heart fluttered.