\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2018369-Carol-and-Cooking-School
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by furoji Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Inspirational · #2018369
Modern day prodigal
Carol and Cooking School

    Carol had been thinking for some time after she graduated High School that she wanted to go to school to learn to be a chef.  She loved fixing dishes for her family and had taken to what some called “adventurous” cooking, changing ingredients or just adding something new to an old recipe to see how it would taste. She knew that in school she could learn all about spices and what they went best with and how various combinations tasted.  Her father, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure that he felt comfortable with Carol living so far away from home on her own.

    So, one morning, she worked up the nerve to tell her father that after careful thought she had decided to enroll in the cooking school in the big city, some 100 miles away. Her father scowled, just as she had realized he might. She went on and asked him to give her whatever she might inherit upon his death since her older brother would most likely inherit the lions’ share as was their custom.

    Her father owned many acres of land, grew crops to feed his herd of cattle and have some left over each year that he sold to others who had less land. He was comfortable and his herd had gradually increased. Some years he was able to buy more land to increase both his crops as well as the herd. Her brother would be a very wealthy man after their father died, which they both hoped was a long time from now. Her father called his son in from the field.

    “Clem,” he said, Carol wants her inheritance now so she can go away to cooking school.”

    Clem scowled, just as his father had.  Clem thought it was foolish for a woman to learn to cook beyond doing it for her future husband. Clem was rather old fashioned just like his father. The apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree, in his case at least.

    “Clem,” Carol began, “I really think I have a talent for cooking and just cooking for the three of us doesn’t give me the training I need if I am to become someday a professional cook in the big city.”

    “Carol, Clem and I will discuss this today and have an answer for you after dinner,” her father said as he and Clem walked outside.  They wandered around the barns, among the cattle and back to the barn, sitting down inside on a bale of hay.

    Supper that night was more quiet than usual. Clem and her father didn’t say much of anything and Carol held her tongue waiting for an answer.  After the meal was over, she carried the dishes to the kitchen, washed everything and put them away. Then, she joined them in the front room, anxiously muttering a prayer to God under her breath.

    “Carol, “her father began, “in order to grant your wish I’ll have to sell some cattle to raise cash.  As you know, I have been ploughing most of our profits back into buying more land and more cattle. We don’t really trust the bank anyway so we don’t deal much in cash outside of these purchases.”  He frowned.

    “So, Dad, what is your decision?” Carol asked, her voice more quiet than usual.  She noticed that Clem also had the same scowl he usually had so that didn’t tell her anything.

    “Well, I’ll sell some cattle and give you enough for you to go to cooking school and live there while you study. It will take a few days.  If you rush things like this you don’t get top dollar, you know!” he finally said, speaking slowly and looking into her eyes deeply.

      “Oh, thank you so much, daddy!” Carol said, jumping up and grabbing him around his waist, doing a little dance.

      “You’re welcome,” he said, looking like a fish out of water with her clinging to him like a small child. It had been years since her mother had died and after her death he more or less withdrew deeper inside himself. He never was a demonstrative father but she never doubted that he loved her.

    She looked at Clem and he stood there with his hands deep into his pockets, scowling and pursing his lips.  She walked over and put a hand around his strong shoulders and lay her head on it. He jumped out of his skin at that tender show of affection.  Like his father, since their mother’s death he had withdrawn more and more into his shell.

    “Thanks, Clem,” Carol said kissing him lightly on his cheek.  His face turned red as he spun around and backed away from her.
    “I’m totally against it, just so you know,” he said as he rapidly left the room.  His father sighed. He didn’t like conflict at all.

    Time passed slowly for Carol but soon enough her father came to her one day with a brown paper bag, handing it to her.  “Here is the money” he said, giving her a brief hug.

    Carol jumped up and down like a child without looking inside.  She ran to her room, shut the door and dumped the bag’s contents on her quilted bedspread. What she counted out was more than she had even seen before and she knew, from her research, would more than cover her tuition for the years needed to graduate and also would cover food and rent.  She sank down and sat on the bed, clutching her hands together.  All at once, the enormity of what she had asked her father to do hit her. But, she had no other way of reaching her dream to be a chef in a fine restaurant. Luckily for her, her small town had few eligible bachelors and she knew long ago that she wasn’t interested in any of them. Not because they were small town farmers but none of them sparked her fancy.

    Next morning, Carol packed her suitcases, hid the money safely inside her blouse in a silk purse and loaded everything into her old but reliable car and waved goodbye to her father sitting on the porch.  Clem was nowhere in sight. She signed to think that father would be all alone with Clem but they seemed content with each other.  As she glanced in the rear mirror, she saw her home slowly getting smaller and smaller before she turned onto the highway and started her journey to the big city.

    This big city wasn’t all that big but compared to her home town, it was a metropolis to her. And, most of all, it had a well thought of cooking school. She had researched all this before talking to her father.  She drove right to the school and filled out the papers to enroll. She would start next Monday. Her purse was lighter after she paid the first year’s tuition and even lighter after she made the necessary purchases of a cooking gown, hat and other necessary items. She had looked in the paper and knew where a decent and yet affordable rooming house for women only was located and soon, she was seated in her new home for several years. Even though a lot of her money was gone enough remained, if she were careful, to last the required time to graduate. She went to a local bank and opened an account, keeping a few dollars in her purse. That way, she knew, her money would be safe. This rooming house included meals so she went back there and ate her meal, getting to know a few of the others living there.  There was a public living room where some of them went after the meal and she talked to a few women, seeking someone to talk to about her dream. Soon though, she was in bed, sleeping away from home for the first time in her life. It seemed so strange not hearing her father or Clem moving about, banging doors or muttering to each other or themselves as they rattled about in her home so far away.

    Soon it was morning and she walked over to the school, went to the school store and priced the items she would need for class Monday morning, bought them and took them back to her room.  She tried the white clothing on looking at herself in the mirror she started dreaming of what her life would be like once she graduated.  She drove around town and found a small church and went there Sunday. Of course, she didn’t know anyone but the Pastor seemed friendly and she enjoyed his sermon. She felt closer to her new home now that she had a church to attend like her family did back home.

    Soon, it was Monday, her first day in cooking school. All of her life she had lived in the same town, went through the grades more or less with the same people. She had left behind her friends to follow this passion of wanting to become a chef. She looked around at all the new faces, imagining that among them she would find some she would draw closer to and some she would avoid. The first day went by at a dizzying pace, getting to know what was expected.  She was paired with another girl, Anna, who had long, dark brown wavy hair and a ready smile. The laughed a lot but had to hide it from the teacher who was very serious about his responsibility to teach them. At break and lunch, she and Anna compared their backgrounds and found that they both went to church, which gave Carol comfort. She, like Carol, was from out of town so she told Anna about the small church she had found and they agreed to meet there next Sunday. Then, they returned to their studies. The first day and then the first week spun by rapidly.

    Sunday, Carol waited outside the church and saw Anna coming in the distance.  Once Anna noticed her, she waved and walked faster. They sat together through the sermon and then agreed that a cup of coffee afterwards at the town coffee shop was just the thing. Like the two school girls that they were they shared their experiences growing up in a small town, the good and the bad things. It was nice, Carol thought, to have a friend to share things with as she walked back home to study.

    The weeks went by at a dizzying pace as they learned all about spices, tried new ways to make sauces and many other things. One day, there was a new face among the students. His name was Dillon she learned. He had the most beautiful smile she had ever seen on any young man before, thought Carol. At break, she asked Anna what she thought of Dillon.  Anna said she hadn’t noticed him, she was struggling with a new cooking concept so hard. At lunch, Anna and Carol were sitting outside at a table, talking and eating when Dillon walked up and asked if he could join them. What could they say?

      “Of course,” said Carol with a smile, moving closer to Anna so he had room to sit down at their small table. Soon, Dillon was telling them funny stories about his growing up in a large city among gangs, something neither of them had experienced. It sounded awful. Then, the bell rang and they all were back in class.

    Dillon walked over towards Carol as she left class that day and so Carol invited Dillon to join Anna and her Sunday at Church.

    “Oh,” Dillon replied with a frown.  “I’m not much into Church,” he said as he turned and walked away.

    That was something new to Carol.  Where she came from people all went to church. Yes, there were some that seemed like they only did it because their parents dragged them there but at least they went. Carol couldn’t imagine a life without church.

    After church that Sunday Carol was in the local grocery store buying some snacks to eat since she had breakfast and dinner with the Jones family at the rooming house. She heard this evil sounding laugh behind her and when she twirled around, there was Dillon shopping himself.  They talked about school and she agreed to meet Dillon at the coffee shop after they took their purchases to their homes.

    As she entered the coffee shop, she noticed a small group of young women surrounding Dillon who was telling them a story which they punctuated with laughter. Dillon was a very handsome young man, she thought. He noticed her and excused himself from the others and walked over and they sat down together at one of the small tables. She asked Dillon more about his home life and soon she sort of regretted it as he told her that his mother had him out of wedlock and he never had a father figure in his life outside of the baseball coach in High School. Her life was so different, she thought as she appreciated it, even Clem, her sullen brother.

    One Friday, much later, Dillon asked her if she had been to the local Lake to swim.  She, of course, answered no.  He described how beautiful it was and asked her if she wanted to have a picnic there on Saturday. She laughingly agreed and the next day, around 10:00 AM, Dillon knocked on the door of the rooming house and Mrs. Jones let him sit in the parlor while she went to tell Carol.  Carol came bouncing down the stairs in her Levis and a blouse with a bag of sandwiches she had prepared. They stopped at the grocery store and Dillon bought some pop and they were off. Carol admired the beauty of God’s countryside as Dillon drove them to the lake. Once off the main street, they drove down this gravel road until the found a place to park and carried their lunch to a grassy spot overlooking the lake. The smell of the clean air blowing off the lake made Carol think of home. When she told Dillon this, he spat into the lake and frowned.

    “Where I grew up there weren’t anything but houses, roads and buildings. There was a small park but it wasn’t safe to play there since kids from the gang hung out there. If you happened to walk through they’d come up and snap open their switchblade, grab a button on your shirt and ask you if you wanted it.  If you said yes, “They’d cut it off and hand it to you with a laugh.  If you said no, they’d cut it off and toss it away. Either way you found out it was wiser to go around their park.”

    Carol didn’t know what to say. She felt sorry for Dillon that his home life had been so bad.

    “What drew you to cooking school?” she asked with a smile, trying to change the subject.

    “Well, my Mom was always working or out with some dude so I had to learn to cook for myself. I figured, I might as well turn it into a career,” Dillon replied with a wide smile as he lay back on the grass.
    “I grew up helping mother in the kitchen, gradually learning more and more from her. Then, when all of a sudden she died Dad and my brother Clem naturally relied on me to prepare all the meals.  I knew how to cook the things my mother did but I wanted to learn how to do more than that. It seemed like I had some talent in cooking so I came to cooking school to see if I was right,” she said, warming to the subject.

    “You are really beautiful, do you know that?” Dillon asked sitting up and leaning towards her.

    “You are a smooth talker Mr. Dillon,” Carol laughed, suddenly not knowing what to do. She hadn’t dated in High School, busy with her home tasks and studying or going to Church.

    “Well, I’m glad I asked you out before you were taken,” he said trying to move closer to her.

    “We ought to eat or the ants might get our meal,” Carol said with a laugh as she moved to get the bag of food.  She spread out the towel she had brought from her room and started laying out their meal.  Dillon came over and sat on one side and her on the other.

    “Hey, this tastes good!” Dillon exclaimed with a mouth full of sandwich.

    “Of course, I’m a chef,” Carol said with a laugh.  Dillon asked her more about her childhood, which was so different from his and soon, it was time for him to take her home.  As they drove up to her rooming house, she turned and smiled at Dillon to thank him and before she got the words out of her mouth, his mouth was on her, his hand pulling her head in closer. She hadn’t been kissed by anyone except relatives before so she was suddenly tense. But, his lips did feel good and she slowly relaxed and kissed him back.  It was over it a few seconds but as she smiled, got out, waved to him and walked up the stairs to her room she could still fell his kiss on her lips
.
    She had problems going to sleep that night, the first of many to come as she and Dillon began spending more time together. She had come to anticipate, expect and long for his kisses. In the back of her mind, there was a bell ringing telling her “danger” but she tried to ignore it.

    Another weekend and Dillon invited her to go to the lake again. This time he bought the meal and it was from a restaurant and much more fancy.  He even bought a cloth to spread it out on. The weather was getting warmer, which somehow set a relaxing tone to their time at the lake.

    After eating, Dillon leaned up against a tree and they faced the lake with Carol curled up in his arms. He whispered in her ear a dare: “Want to skinny dip?”

    Carol whirled around to face him, her eyes big as saucers.

    “What?” she asked him, her voice louder than she had intended?

    “Oh, you can keep your underwear on if you want,” Dillon smilingly replied.

    Carol felt her face get hot and she imagined it was red too as she thought about swimming in her underwear with Dillon. Underwear was much like a bathing suit, after all, wasn’t it? Would Dillon wear his underwear too, she wondered, her face getting redder.

    “OK, you stay here and I’ll go behind those bushes and take everything off except my undies and get into the water first,” Carol said, her face even redder she knew.

    “Whatever,” Dillon said as he stood and started unbuttoning his shirt.  Carol felt nailed to the ground as she saw the rippling muscles of his body as he shed his shirt. He smiled as he unzipped his pants and stepped out of them. She could see that he was aroused. Oh well, she thought as she unbuttoned her blouse, standing facing him. Soon she unzipped her Levis and stepped out of them. With a laugh, she raced to the lake and ran in. The cold water shocked her back to reality. If her Dad saw her now she never would be able to go back home, she thought with a frown.

    “Oh, it’s cold,” said Dillon in her ear in the water behind her. He brought his cold body closer to her and then kissed her. She felt her body get warmer from his kiss. In the back of her mind, she realized this was a mistake but it felt good to feel his warm body up against hers. Then she felt his hand slip down and caress her butt. There was a mixture of delight and fear. Yet, it felt good. She kissed him back. All of a sudden she felt his tongue slip into her slightly open mouth. She had heard of this but had never experienced it. She didn’t know what to do so she slightly sucked on his tongue and heard him moan and felt his reaction. His embrace got stronger and it became hard to tell where her body stopped and his began. After a while, she drew back, gasping for air, still with her body pressed up against his, her mind clouded with a combination of passion and fear.  She pushed him away and walked out and used the cloth he had brought to dry her bra and panties before putting her blouse and levy’s on. She felt the Goosebumps from a combination of cold and passion. She liked the feeling and that worried her.  She turned and watched him come up out of the water, his wet briefs left nothing to the imagination. She felt her face get warmer and realized that she was blushing but her eyes were riveted on his body.  She handed him the cloth and he dried himself as best he could.  After he had slipped into his Levis his passion still showed as he buttoned up his shirt. His smile made her squirm.  They walked slowly back to the car, carrying their leftovers, arm in arm, their bodies touching side to side.

    When they arrived at her rooming house and he kissed her she parted her lips, expecting his tongue and greedily sucked on it, remembering how his body had looked all wet and how her body had felt as they hugged and kissed there in the lake, his hand holding onto her butt. She slid her hand into his lap and heard him groan with desire. She snapped her hand back as if she had touched a hot stove, pushed away from him and with a catch in her voice, kissed him on the cheek and went up the stairs as she heard him race away.

    That night, she tossed and turned, going over the day, the lake and her mounting desire for him. What was she doing?  She was here to learn to become a chef, wasn’t she? That was her passion. She couldn’t let herself be drawn up into this, what?  What was it really, between them? Lust? Love?  She wasn’t sure.

    Next week, at school, she avoided being alone with Dillon, finding excuses, spending more time with Anna.  She even went to a college age Bible study one night, just to fight down this mounting obsession with Dillon and lust. She had never felt like this before and didn’t know how to handle it except to avoid it. Dillon smiled at her during class and she smiled back, politely, avoiding looking at him for very long since her body started reacting all on its own when she looked into his eyes. The weekend was coming and she didn’t know how or really didn’t want to avoid spending time with him. She couldn’t bring herself to discuss this with Anna and had no one else she trusted to keep her secret. She thought about talking to the Pastor but didn’t feel comfortable with that either. Maybe she could talk to the Pastor’s wife? She played piano during services and spent some time in the nursery with the younger children. She had met her once but wasn’t sure if what she told her wouldn’t be repeated to the Pastor. She felt she needed advice from someone.  The cooking school didn’t have a counselor and since they both were enrolled there it might create a problem she didn’t want to face. She got down on her knees by her bed and prayed, unloading it all to God. He would know what to tell her. Of that, she was sure. But, she felt God wasn’t answering her. What to do?

    Each morning, she work from erotic dreams of making love with Dillon. This was something completely new to her. She had never been aroused like this before. Maybe she was just a farm girl after all. She knew from watching the animals how reproduction occurred but she had just thought of it as a fact, not something to dwell on. She hadn’t even thought much about getting married. She had never been attracted to any of the boys in school so had never dated. Falling in love hadn’t been on her “to do” list when she came here. All she wanted to do was learn enough to get a job somewhere as a chef and make her dad proud of her. She hadn’t thought beyond that. Of course, someday she would like to fall in love, get married and have a family. Didn’t every girl want that? But, most of all, and right now she had to concentrate on learning to be a chef! There was no time for Dillon and falling in love. Somehow, she must avoid seeing more of him. She had already crossed the line by swimming more or less in the nude with him. She realized she would lose control if she allowed their relationship to go any further.

    Still, when Dillon smiled at her in class she felt her face go red. Passion is like a consuming fire. Once it is aroused, it is very hard to tame this beast. All your attempts just focus more attention on it.

    As the weekend arrived she locked herself in her room and read her books. She asked Mrs. Jones if she could help her prepare any part of her meals.  Mrs. Jones was surprised but thankful for the help so Carol spent much of Saturday in the kitchen preparing desert and anything else that Mrs. Jones had in mind for her boarders. Carol was happy there in the kitchen. Her love of cooking had brought her here. Thoughts of Dillon were swept under the carpet as she focused on preparing a meal.

    Soon, it was Sunday and she walked to church and met Anna and they sat together. She asked Anna what she did for a living and Anna told her she was a waitress at Milly’s, a local diner. She asked Anna what the price range was and found out that it was an affordable place to eat. She asked Anna how her tips were and learned that her tips were putting her through cooking school because she lived at home in a suburb of the city. She and Anna went into the social hall to get something to drink in between services (this church had two back to back) and wonder of wonders, there stood Dillon drinking coffee and talking to an attractive young girl. He noticed her, winked and finished his conversation and came over and greeted Anna and her. All of a sudden Carol found a lump in her throat. She was excited to see Dillon, even if she didn’t want to feel that and she was surprised that this man who said he had no interest in God was there at all.

    “So, Dillon, how did you happen to come here today?” she asked in a rather clipped voice.

    “I thought this was open to the public. Am I not allowed to come?” he said with a sneer.

  Now, Carol felt embarrassed to be called out like that among people she knew and respected.

  “Of course, God loves everyone, Dillon. You know that, don’t you?” she replied, while avoiding his questioning look.

    “That’s good to know. I feel like I have been avoiding him and want to figure out how to make that right,” Dillon replied, smiling at them all, including the girl to whom he had been talking.

    “Hi, my name is Carol,” she said holding her hand out to the other girl she didn’t know.”

    “Oh, hi.  I’ve seen you around here before. My name is Cynthia.  I’ve gone here all my life,” she replied with a big toothy grin.

    “There are so many people her that I haven’t met them all yet.” Carol replied.

    Anna smiled at Cynthia and nodded as if she already knew her. Cynthia nodded back.

    “So, Dillon, do you want to come to Bible Study next?” Carol asked with a smile, thinking she knew what his answer would be.

    “Sure, why not?” Dillon said flashing his winning smile to them all.

    “OK, follow us,” Carol said, turning on her heel as she and Anna walked out the door.

    True to his word, Dillon sat by them during the Bible study, which was about sin and the consequences of it. He didn’t squirm as the leader talked about the various ways that we sin, some of them our society has begun to overlook so young people may not even see them as sins, like swearing and pre-marital sex. The study ended and everyone slowly left the room. Anna said she was off to work and smiled and left Carol alone with Dillon.  Carol told him that she thought she was going to eat where Anna worked and started to leave when Dillon reached out and took her hand, softly, saying, “Can I join you?”  His winning smile won her over and she agreed.  They left the church holding hands as they got into his car.

    “I’ve missed you,” Dillon said as he drove to the diner.

    “I’ve missed you to, Dillon.  It’s just that things sort of got too hot for me the last date and I needed time to cool off, “Carol said with a forced smile.  She could hardly keep from touching him. Her body felt like it was burning up. Luckily, they got to the diner in a short period of time. Dillon came around and like a gentleman, opened the car door for her. She couldn’t remember if that was a new gesture for him or not. Her memory seemed to focus on other things lately when he was around.  They went inside and asked to be seated at Anna’s table and she smiled as she seated and greeted them.

    When the menu arrived, Anna had been right about the prices being reasonable. Now, if the food was good this would be a real treat for them both. They ordered and their choices were as different as night and day. Dillon ordered a chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes with gravy and veggies and she ordered a hamburger with sweet potato fries. Of course, that was why most places had a pretty wide menu, people liked a lot of choices. For the cook though, that could be a challenge and for the owner it could reduce profits if some things didn’t sell. Owning a business, Carol thought to herself, was much harder than she would have realized if she weren’t studying cooking.

    “Earth to Carol,” Dillon said as she was staring off into space thinking about how tough owning a restaurant could be instead of paying attention to him.

    “Oh, sorry, Dillon,” she replied with a chuckle. “I guess I take my studies everywhere with me. I was just realizing up close and personal how hard it must be to make a living owning a restaurant when you have to be able to make such a wide variety of dishes.”

    “OK. Thought maybe you were avoiding me,” Dillon said with his winning smile.

    “I don’t think this is the place to talk about that,” Carol said, reaching over and touching his hand.

    “OK, how about after we finish eating?” Dillon said, a serious look on his face.

    “I’d like that. Anywhere except the lake,” Carol said with a wide grin.

    “OK. I’ll wait with baited breath,” he chuckled. His eyes flashed teasingly at her.

    Their food arrived and not wanting to talk with a mouth full, they concentrated on eating and smiled at each other as their chosen medium of exchange for a while.

    Dillon paid for the meal, tipping Anna nicely which brought a broad grin to Anna’s face as she invited them back again, soon! As they walked outside, their hands found and gripped each other in a natural manner.  He opened the car door and she slid in as he shut it and walked around to the driver’s side.

    “How about letting me show you where I live?” Dillon asked as he started the engine.

    “Sure,” Carol said not so sure inside.

    Dillon drove across town and turned into a large apartment complex and parked in his assigned car port. He walked around, opened her door and held out his hand to assist her in getting out.  Once she was out, he used his hips to shut the door, took her arm in his and walked towards the apartment house.  He led her to the elevator and they got off at the third and top floor. He had an end unit and as she entered the room she could see that he had a lovely view of the city from his window and that there was a balcony with a small table and two chairs. Nice place, she thought. He led her over to the sofa and asked if he could get her something to drink.

    “Just water please,” she said as he walked towards the refrigerator.

    He came back holding her glass of water and a bottle of wine and glass for himself.

    “What kind of wine do you like?” she asked with a smile, wondering if he drank a lot.

    “Oh, I went to a local winery at a wine tasting party once and found that I liked this Granny Smith apple wine,” he said with a broad grin.

    “I didn’t know they made an apple wine,” she said with a curious look.

    “Neither did I, until I went there. I found out that there are lots of fruit wines made from all kinds of berries. If you like fruit wine.  What kind of wine do you like?” he asked.

    “Actually, I’ve never had any wine. My dad doesn’t drink so we never were exposed to wine. Some churches use real wine for communion I understand but I’ve never been to one” she said with a more relaxed smile.

    “Do you want to taste this?” he asked holding his glass out towards her.

    “Well, just a sip,” she replied as she brought the glass up to her lips and sipped a bit. Surprised at the taste, she drank some more.  “That has a very nice flavor to it. I can taste the alcohol but it’s not as overpowering as I had imagined,” she smilingly said.

    “I’ll be happy to offer you a glass” he said. “You can pour it yourself so I don’t look like I’m forcing you or anything,” he said laughingly as he handed her and empty wine glass and the bottle.

    “OK,” she said taking them and pouring an inch or so into her glass. Then, she sat the bottle done and leaned back on the sofa, balancing the glass, not too sure how to do all of this.

    “Here’s to us,” he said as he took a small sip.

    “Here’s to us, whatever that means,” she said as she sipped a bit too.

    “I’m sorry if I upset you at the lake,” he said, sitting down next to her on the sofa.

    “I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never done anything like that before and just got carried away,” she said blushing.

    “You have a very beautiful smile and nice body too,” he said with a wink.

    “I don’t know how to reply to that without saying I liked the look of your body too,” she replied getting a bit flustered.

    “Maybe we better find something else to talk about,” he said, getting up to turn on some music.  As he walked back to sit down she couldn’t help but notice that he was excited again. She tried to tear her eyes away but blushed and couldn’t.

    The sat in silence for a while, sipping slowly the seemingly innocent apple wine and the music played.

    “What is the name of what they are playing?” she asked him to break the silence.

    “The afternoon of the faun,” he replied looking deeply into her eyes.

    “I think I’ve heard of that.  It is very soothing.” she said falling into his gaze as she sipped some more of the sweet apple wine. 
Soon, her glass was empty so she poured herself some more and handed him the bottle and he did the same.

    As the music ended, he got up, put on another record and came back to sit leaning towards her. She wanted to kiss him so badly but realized it was a slippery slope and she might lose control if she did.  She wondered what he was thinking.  They continued sitting there more or less in silence, enjoying the music and the wine. She felt herself growing tired and set the glass down on the coffee table and leaned back. He set his glass down and moved over to cradle her head on his shoulder. Soon, she was asleep. She woke in a little while to find him caressing her hair and lightly kissing her lips. It was more than she could resist. Her mouth opened, hungrily pressing it against his lips and her tongue slipped into his mouth as he had previously done to her. His kissed back and soon their passionate kisses were all consuming. She had her eyes closed and felt his hand softly cup her breast and she found her own hand pressing against his hand, pushing it harder against her breast. That was the last thing she remembered.

      When she woke up, she found herself naked in his bed beside his naked body. He was lightly snoring. How had this happened, she wondered? No wonder her father had advised her against drinking! She had let the alcohol remove her inhibitions. She slowly got out of bed, took her underwear, which she found on the floor, into the front room and put them on. She found her dress on the sofa and put it on too. She located her shoes and purse and dress and then let herself out of his apartment and walked to the elevator. Downstairs, she found that she had some difficulty walking at first but gradually control of her body returned as she walked briskly to Mrs. Jones and her own bed.  She needed the walk to clear her head and work the alcohol out of her system. She stopped by the grocery store to buy some breath mints to cover up any traces of alcohol on her breath before she got home in case she ran into anyone she knew.

    Once safely back in her room, she rapidly undressed, took a shower and got into her own bed. She was shaken by what she had let happen. Her desires had been held under control by her will power but the alcohol had pushed that aside, letting her desire take control. What if she were pregnant?  She was tired and soon was asleep. Her dreams weren’t something that she wanted to talk to the Pastor’s wife about. She was on her own here and would have to suffer the consequences, she feared.  The next morning, after eating a hearty breakfast from Mrs. Jones she walked rapidly to class and changed into her culinary clothing as she called it. It was all white, not at all like her soul she thought. Somehow, she got through the day, even though she saw and smiled at Dillon once or twice. She wondered what they had done and what he thought of her now! She was a good girl and good girls didn’t get into bed with someone unless they were married, did they? Not the way she was brought up. Of course, she was aware that society had changed but she was sure that God’s standards hadn’t and she knew that fornication was still on the “do not do” list!  She avoided Dillon and went home.

    The rest of the week she kept to herself, only talking to Anna. Of course, she didn’t confess her possible sins to her either. No more fruit wine for her it that was all it took to remove her inhibitions!

    Dillon didn’t press her and so she went to church on Sunday with a heavy burden on her soul. She needed to confess to someone that would understand and would be there for her. Who here was that person? She didn’t feel she knew anyone here that well. As she sat listening to the sermon and later in Bible Study part of her mind was going over and over her secret sin. Maybe she just fell asleep and nothing happened? Surely Dillon wouldn’t take advantage of her while she slept would he? She knew that she was thinking way too much about sex since she swam with Dillon. Before that it hadn’t been a major concern of hers. She had feelings, like everyone but she had kept those pushed back in a dark, locked corner of her mind up until now.

    The next morning as she went about washing and getting ready for school all of a sudden she thought, ‘I haven’t had my period!’ She was one of those you could set your clock on her period.  It was regular and not much of an inconvenience so far. Maybe she was just imagining it, she thought. But, when she checked her calendar she was already a few days late. Surely not? But, just to make sure, she went to the grocery store and bought a pregnancy kit and took it home. It seemed like it made her purse heavier although that wasn’t possible. Silly, she thought to herself. As soon as she got back home into her own rooms, she went into the bathroom and checked. She sort of sat down all at once on the toilet and kept staring at the indicator. Surely there must be a mistake, she tried to convince herself. She cleaned up and went back to the store and bought a different test kit and hurried home, praying under her breath that the previous one was defective somehow.  Once again, she tested herself and the answer was the same: pregnant. Carol somehow staggered into her room, fell down on her bed laying on her back looking up but not seeing the ceiling.

    “What will Dad think?” she said in her head.

    “Will he still love me after I’ve failed him?” was her next thought.

    “Oh, God, please forgive me of my sinful ways,” she cried out to herself in her mind.

    Carol lay there on her back, her hands covering her stomach as if she were protecting the child developing in her while she prayed over and over to God asking Him what she should do. She knew her options didn’t include abortion. She had heard about the “morning after” drug which was still a form of abortion. She didn’t believe in abortion: let alone killing her own first child! It was going to be hard enough to be a single Mom. She wouldn’t have time to complete her education as a chef. Maybe she could get a job as a waitress like Anna but eventually, she would have to stop working for the safety of her unborn but alive, child. She didn’t think she should tell Dillon yet. It takes two to create a child and she was as guilty as he. Blaming him wouldn’t change the present and she couldn’t go back and un-ring the bell so to speak. If she quit school now and worked as a waitress as long as possible she might be able to have enough money to get through the birth but after that she would really need help and there wasn’t anyone she could ask except her father. She had already confessed her sins to her Father in Heaven. Now, it was time to kneel before her earthly father and confess. She wasn’t completely sure but part of her thought he would understand and forgive her too. Her sin would reflect badly in the community on him, she unfortunately knew. He would have to be stronger than she was but her heart told her he would understand.  She decided to drive out to see him tomorrow morning, kneel in front of him and confess her sin, putting herself at his mercy.

    Her sleep that night was fitful, full of conflicting feelings. Part of her longed to tell Dillon without blaming him. Their child was his as much as hers and he had a right to know. Would he turn his back on her? Probably. But, she owed him that. She decided to wait until she had told her father and found out what he would offer her so that she wouldn’t look to Dillon as if she was begging him to help her. If he didn’t want to accept paternity, painful as it was, she would accept that. She was half of the problem: it wasn’t all his fault.

    In the morning, she felt cold chills and shivered as she showered. She turned up the heat on the water but it didn’t seem to change anything much. She complete drying and putting on the little making up she wore. She chose and packed a change of clothing for Sunday wanting above all to go to Church with Dad and Clem if they would allow her to do that. Finally, she walked down the stairs and ate breakfast with the other boarders. Nothing tasted good to her but she knew she had to eat for two now so she swallowed what she normally would eat. Mrs. Jones looked at her with a question in her eyes probably because she wasn’t her talkative self.  She smiled at Mrs. Jones and mumbled something about being a bit under the weather, receiving a pat on her hand in reply.  She went to her room, washed her face and slowly carried her bag down to her car and began the drive to home and her Dad and Clem.

    As she drove, almost on auto-pilot, she began going over how she would explain what happened and how much details to tell them.  She decided just to take her Dad’s hand and tell him, ‘I’ve sinned and gotten pregnant. It is all my fault and I’m sorry that this happened.  I didn’t plan it. If moving back home will shame you I’ll leave and try to figure out how to take care of myself. I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I ask you to anyway.”  Simple. True. Servant like, she thought.

    As she turned into the driveway she could see the combine in the field.  ‘Maybe it was Clem and she could first talk to Dad alone,’ she thought.  As she parked and got of the car she saw the door of the combine jerk open and her Dad jump down and run towards her. Tears welled up in her eyes, partly from love and partly fear of what had to come next.
    She began to tell her Dad what she had rehearsed, “Father, forgive me for I have sinned against God and shamed you…”

    But before she could get more than a few words out, her Dad put his strong arms around her, lifted her off her feet and hugged her to him. My, she knew he was strong but somehow had forgotten.

    “Daddy, I love you,” was all she could get out as he set her down on the path.

    “And, I’m so happy that you’ve come home!” he said with a smile.

    “Dad, can we take a walk? I have something to tell you,” she began again.

    “Maybe later.  Right now I need to get Clem to start a BBQ going for tonight’s dinner!  My baby is home,” he said with his eyes twinkling, partly filled with tears.

    “Clem” he shouted and soon, Clem came opened the door as they were standing on the porch.  He rushed outside, glaring at Carol.

    “Clem, their father said, “I want you to start BBQing right away.  Carol has come home!  I thought we had lost her but she’s back!” her Dad said, grinning from ear to ear.

    “Welcome back” Clem said but it didn’t sound sincere.  He turned and walked back in the house, leaving them alone.

    “Daddy, I need to tell you what happened,” Carol began again, sitting down on the glider on the porch.

    “Honey, there isn’t anything you can say that will change my love for you,” her father said as he sat next to her and took her hand in his.

    “But, Dad, I’m pregnant.” Carol blurted out.

    “Ah, that happens sometimes,” her father simply replied.

    “I made a mistake and I’m sorry!” Carol said, crying, clutching his hand.

    “Honey, you’re here now. We can discuss this sometime later. We can’t go back in time and change what happened. What is important is what we do next,” her Dad replied softly holding her hand between his two callused ones as he gazed deeply into her eyes.

    Carol simply sat there crying, knowing that her earthly Father was as forgiving as her Heavenly one was.

    It took some time for Clem to forgive her for wasting her inheritance but he learned from their Dad how to be forgiving, which made him a better man than he had been.

    The future, for Carol, wasn’t going to be smooth, she knew that. But, love heals a lot of wounds and somehow she would grow into a fine mother with a little help. That night, she knelt besides her bed as she had done as a small girl, put her head on the bed as she had then and opened her heart to God as she had learned to do from her mother
 
                                                                   
______________________________________________
© Copyright 2014 furoji (furoji at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2018369-Carol-and-Cooking-School