Thanks to Mostera1, Mokkelke, Kalamazoo707, and Persephone9906 for their help, suggestions, and encouragement. I especially want to thank PostScriptor for his editing and suggestions.
If the story seems to move too quickly, please remember this is a fictional SHORT story and as such is compressed into a very short time period.
*~*~*
Three young girls sat rigidly on the hard oak pew and intently watched the man pace in front of them. Their mother sat next to the youngest who was only six. All four had their hands clapped together in their laps and were dressed in their Sunday best.
The man was dressed in black and clutched a Bible in his hand. His dark, deep voice extolled the virtues of moderation and modesty.
The man lifted the Bible and turned and looked at the woman with her young daughters.
"The Lord made the man the head of the household because the man knows what is best for his family. The Lord knows 'he that sparest the rod' spoils the child. The Lord said this so that the man would know it not only right but necessary to discipline the child." After a moment the man continued, "And the Good Book says, 'If a husband suspects his wife is impure, he is to take his wife to the priest.' I am the priest in this family. I am the final authority on how this family should conduct themselves. You, each of you, will obey me!"
The man, the father of the three little girls, slammed the Bible on the make-shift podium in the make-shift church. The little girls jumped; the smallest whimpered. The woman looked defiant but only for a fleeting moment before she lowered her eyes.
Each Sunday after the 'service' was over, their father sent the girls to their room to read the Bible until he said they could come out. Often their mother was commanded, as she was today, to remain in the garage with their father. Their father had not been happy the day before with their mother's choice of clothing when she went to her part-time job at the local grocery store.
Once, one child thought, she could hear her mother screaming. Later when dinner was ready, she thought her mother had been crying, but couldn't be sure.
She knew not to question either her mother or father.
*~*~*
David ordered a bottle of wine after the waiter placed a menu down in front of each of them. As Abby went to pick up her menu, he reached across the table and covered her hand with his. Her eyes widened and she quickly looked around. She tried to discreetly pull her hand from beneath his but he didn't seem to notice the discomfort she obvious felt.
"Have I told you lately how much I love you?"
"David," she started as she tried again to move her hand away from his. "Yes, you've told me and I love you too, but I can't see my menu if you won't let me pick it up."
"You always order the same thing," he chuckled but lifted his hand from hers and picked up his own menu. "Tonight I think I'm going to get something different. I think I'll try the chicken Parmesan."
"Mmm. Everyone says it's the best here. But ..." she hesitated for a moment as if she might order something different. "I'll have ... the manicotti."
David laughed, "Big surprise!"
"I can't help it. I always think I'll try something different but then I just can't because I love their manicotti."
The waiter returned with their wine, took their orders and for a few minutes they sat in a companionable silence; then David took a sip of his wine and asked his wife how her day was.
Half listening to her, he thought about the next two days. He had spent a lot of time planning this weekend and prayed it would turn out as he hoped. Abigail Ann Marks Lindstrum was in for a big surprise. He smiled and nodded and made the appropriate remarks but his mind was really somewhere else.
They had been married six months and Abby still had problems undressing in front of him — hell, she wouldn't undress in front of him. If he wouldn't leave the bedroom, she took her clothes to the bathroom to dress. She wouldn't make love anywhere but in their bedroom with all the lights off and to his dismay the slightest display of affection in public upset her, even something minor as letting anyone see him touch her hand as he had only minutes before. And heaven forbid if he should want to hold her hand while strolling in the mall, sitting in darkened movie theater, or walking into church. Coming from a family that openly kissed and hugged one another at every occasion, he found this behavior foreign.
Meeting Abby's family the very first time should have given him a hint regarding her strange behavior, not that it would have stopped him from pursuing her. No, there was something the first time he noticed her that made him want her. He felt her parents — specifically her father — held the key to her inability to show any kind of affection in public.
They had been dating for five months before Abby finally took him to meet her parents, shortly after he had asked her to marry him. They were cool towards him and nearly the first words from her father's mouth were they were 'not rich people and wouldn't be able to help much with wedding cost'. David had replied that it wouldn't be necessary; he and Abby would pay for their own wedding. David even ended up paying the cost of her sisters' bridesmaid's dresses although it was obvious that her parents could have afforded that, at least. But they didn't volunteer, and David didn't ask.
Abby was embarrassed but David had assured her it didn't matter, he could well afford it.
Neither parent congratulated them on their engagement; neither hugged their daughter when she told them. David was stunned but he thought he hid it well. In the following months, David never saw Abby's parents displaying any affection to any of their daughters.
They had dinner with Abby's parents on Sunday afternoon once a month and David still called them Mr. or Mrs. Marks as he had not yet been invited to call them anything more intimate or less formal.
Abby's older sister Felicity was, he thought, a duplicate of Abby's mother ... cold and untouchable, and her younger sister Charity was so timid that she rarely spoke. Both girls were attractive but like Abigail dressed in a way to understate their looks. Although neither could hold a candle to Abby, Charity would be very pretty if she dressed more fashionably, wore even the smallest amount of make-up ... and smiled once in a while.
But Charity would have to be someone else's problem. Right now he was more concerned with his own wife and teaching her that showing affection was okay — even in public. It wasn't as if he wanted her to let him pull her into a public restroom at the courthouse and screw her or anything like that.
But
he would like to kiss her if they met for lunch or hold her hand when they went out together.
*~*~*
Abby looked around, confused, "This isn't the way home."
David took his eyes off the road for a moment and took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. He could feel her stiffen slightly and look around. He smiled and wondered who would see them inside the car this late at night — and who would care if they did see him kiss Abby's fingers?
"No. I have a surprise for you, an early anniversary present."