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  Chop, Chop

  Book One

  By L.N. Cronk

  Published by Rivulet Publishing

  Smashwords Edition

  Smashwords Edition License Note:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Photography by Hugo Chang.

  Spanish translations provided by Vicki Oliver Krueger.

  Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION ®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.

  Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION ®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984

  by International Bible Society.

  Used by permission of Zondervan.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2011 by L.N. Cronk. All rights reserved.

  www.LNCronk.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ~ ~ ~

  LACI AND I did not have a typical engagement. Four years of living on a college campus and watching couples all around me had taught me what a typical engagement was like. They usually go something like this:

  1. Guy buys ring . . .

  2. Guy proposes and “surprises” girl with ring . . .

  3. Guy and girl hug and kiss (crying is optional) . . .

  4. Girl sticks ring in faces of all of her girlfriends (squealing in delight is not optional).

  Laci and I didn’t do any of that (except for maybe step three). Our engagement went more like this:

  1. Guy and girl suddenly find themselves reunited after over three years apart . . .

  2. Guy and girl make all wedding plans while living over four hours away from each other and trying to finish college . . .

  3. Girl insists that she doesn’t need a ring – the money should go toward more important things . . .

  4. Guy is stupid enough to listen to girl regarding ring.

  This is what I was thinking about as I drove around Scottsdale (five days before our wedding), looking for the house that Laci shared with her roommates. I’d never been to Scottsdale before and her street address wasn’t showing up on my GPS so I finally had to call.

  So much for surprising her.

  “Hey, David!”

  “Hey, Laci. Where are you at?”

  “In my room . . . studying.”

  “Where exactly is that?” I asked.

  “Where’s what?”

  “Your room.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I drove four hours to see you and I can’t find your house anywhere . . . I can’t even find your road.”

  “You’re here?!”

  “I don’t know where I am,” I said.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to see you . . .”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “It would be if I could find your house . . .”

  “Where are you?”

  “I told you,” I said. “I don’t have any idea where I am.”

  “Well, what do you see?”

  “I just drove by a Pizza Hut.”

  “You’re not even close,” she said. “Just go back to the Pizza Hut and wait for me. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you sure everything’s alright?”

  “Positive.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll be right there.”

  I didn’t even see her pull up because I was looking for her in the wrong direction. Before I knew it she was opening up the passenger door of my car and climbing in.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, smiling at me and giving me a big hug.

  “I was going to try to spy on you – you know, make sure you didn’t have some other guy on the side or anything . . .”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Come on,” she said. “Why are you here? Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

  Two actually . . .

  “Are you hungry?” I asked, ignoring her.

  “No,” she said. “I already ate. Why are you here?”

  “Can’t I come see you if I want to? Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  “Of course I’m glad to see you,” she said, grabbing my hand, “but I’ve lived here for four years and you’ve never come to see me before.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  She rolled her eyes again.

  “Have you had dinner?” she asked.

  “I’m okay,” I said. I hadn’t had dinner, but my stomach wasn’t feeling great.

  How ridiculous is it to be nervous about proposing to someone you’re all set to marry in five days?

  “Can we go somewhere and talk?” I asked.

  I saw a look of concern cross her face and I knew she still wasn’t convinced that everything was alright.

  “Sure,” she said. “There’s a nice park not too far from here.”

  We pulled out of the parking lot and she told me where to go.

  “So I guess I’m never going to get to see your house,” I said as we drove along.

  “Trust me,” she said, “you’re not missing anything.”

  “You might feel differently after we get to Mexico.”

  “Have you found anything new worth looking at?” she asked. We’d been working with a real estate agent in Mexico City over the Internet. He’d found us a lot of houses that were close to the orphanage where Laci would be doing much of her work, but only about three of them were big enough and within our price range at the same time.

  “No,” I said. “I think it’s going to come down to the one with all the trees in the front yard or that pink one.”

  “It’s not pink,” she said for the hundredth time. “Turn here.”

  We drove up a long, blacktop road until we reached the parking lot. Only two other cars were there.

  We walked over to the swings and each sat down on one. A young couple pedaled into the parking lot and began securing their bikes to the back of their SUV. Not too far from the swings, another young couple pushed the merry-go-round as their little boy rode in a circle.

  “Are you done with exams?” I asked.

  “Just one more on Wednesday,” she said, pushing off and starting to swing. Her class was graduating on Friday night, but she’d be at our rehearsal dinner instead of attending. “What about you?”

  “I’ve got two tomorrow and one on Thursday,” I said. My class was graduating on Saturday, but I’d be getting married that day instead of attending.

  “You’ve got TWO exams tomorrow?” she asked, clearly appalled. “You should be back at school studying!”

  I waved my hand at her dismissively.

  “I’m serious, David! You’ve worked hard for four years. I don’t think you need to be blowing off your exams!”

  “I’ll do fine,” I said. I felt pretty ready anyway, plus I already had a job lined up. I doubted they were going to renege their offer just because I didn’t ace an exam or two.

  She stopped swinging.

  “Something’s wrong,” she said.

  “No,” I said, standing up. I stood in front of her and took her hands in mine and pulled her up to me. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  I hugged her tight and then kissed
her.

  “Do you know that we’ve hardly spent any time together?” I asked quietly.

  She nodded.

  “I just wanted to spend some time with you before we get married . . . okay?”

  She nodded again, but I could still see doubt. I dropped one of her hands and tugged on the other one toward the walking trail that circled the park.

  It was about a half of a mile long and by the time we got back to where we’d started the young couple and their kid were gone and it was almost dark. We sat down on the merry-go-round and Laci began pushing against the ground with her foot. We started to go around and around and after about three passes I started to feel dizzy so I laid down. That just made it worse.

  “Stop!” I said. “I feel sick.”

  “Yeah, right,” she said, pushing extra hard.

  “Stop, Laci . . . I’m serious . . . I get motion sickness.”

  She dragged her foot on the ground until we stopped.

  “You get motion sickness?”

  I threw my arm over my eyes and nodded.

  “How can I not know that about you?” she asked.

  “See? I told you. We’ve hardly spent any time together.”

  She lay down next to me and put her head on my shoulder.

  “I’ve known you forever,” she said quietly.

  “Is this thing still moving?”

  “No.”

  “It feels like it is . . .”

  “Do you want to go sit under that tree?” she asked and I nodded.

  We walked over to the tree and I sat down. Laci sat in front of me and leaned back against me. I put my arms around her.

  “You didn’t get sick when we flew to Mexico, did you?” she asked. That had been almost eight years ago and I could tell she was trying to remember.

  “No,” I said. “It’s just roller coasters and boats and stuff.”

  “And merry-go-rounds?”

  “Apparently.”

  “So we’re not going to an amusement park for our honeymoon?”

  “No.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Nice try,” I said, “but I’m going to have to be a whole lot sicker than this before I tell you that.”

  “Are we flying?”

  “Of course we are,” I said.

  “Well we could be going someplace around here . . .”

  “We’re flying.”

  “Out of the country?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Oh, come on, David. At least tell me that much.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Yes . . . it’s out of the country.”

  “Mexico?”

  “Are you serious, Laci? Do you honestly think I’m going to Mexico any sooner than I have to?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “About what?”

  “That you don’t want to go to Mexico.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, kissing the back of her head. “As long as you’re there with me I’ll be fine.”

  “I wish you were happy about it.”

  “I’m happy that we’re getting married,” I said and she leaned her head back onto my shoulder.

  “Me too.”

  “You know, Laci,” I said, “it’s really important to me that you understand something . . .”

  “What?” she asked, shifting around so that she could face me.

  “You know I’m only going to Mexico because I know it’s what God wants us to do . . .”

  She nodded.

  “But that’s not why I’m marrying you,” I said. “I mean, I know God wants us to get married, but I want to marry you. I’m not doing it just because God wants me to. Do you understand what I mean?”

  She nodded and I could see her smile slightly in the fading light.

  “Do you want to marry me?” I asked quietly.

  “Of course I do! Why would you even ask me that?”

  “Well . . . because. I know that God told you that you were supposed to marry me . . .”

  “He did, David, but I’m not marrying you because I feel like I have to. I love you. I want to marry you.”

  That made me feel very good. She kissed me and that made me feel even better.

  “I never even proposed to you,” I said.

  “You didn’t?”

  “Uh-uh. We just kind of started talking about it. I mean . . . I never officially asked you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Laci?”

  “What?”

  “Will you marry me?”

  In the faint light I could see her smile broadly at me.

  “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said.

  “I’ve got something for you, but you’re going to have to move . . . it’s in my pocket.”

  “David . . . I thought we decided not to do that.”

  “No, you decided not to do that and then I decided that you were wrong. Now move.”

  She moved and I dug the ring out of my pocket.

  It was just a single diamond . . . nothing pretentious. Laci would never go for pretentious.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said as I put it on her finger. “Thank you.”

  “It’s too dark for you to see it,” I said. “How do you know?”

  “Because, I just know,” she laughed. “It’s perfect.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I love it,” she said. “I can’t believe I actually thought I didn’t want one.”

  “Are you going to show it to all your girlfriends?”

  “Of course I am!” she said. “I can’t wait!”

  I decided that there was a lot to be said for a typical engagement.

  “Are you still feeling bad?” she asked.

  I told her no and then I wrapped my arms around her and held her for a long time.

  I’d never felt better.

  Six days and one wedding later, I woke up beside Laci. She was still asleep. I started brushing her hair from her face with my fingers until her eyes opened.

  “Good morning,” I said. “It’s time to wake up.”

  She smiled at me and rubbed her eyes.

  “Good morning,” she said. “How’d you sleep?”

  “I didn’t sleep. I just laid awake all night and watched you.”

  “You did not,” she laughed. “What time is it?”

  “About eight . . .”

  “What time do we have to be to the airport?”

  “We’d better get there by noon,” I said.

  “Then why do we have to get up?” she asked. The airport was only about ten minutes from our hotel.

  “I didn’t say it was time to get up . . . I said it was time to wake up.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “WHAT ARE YOU thinking about?” I asked. We were sitting at the airport, waiting for our flight to be called. She still didn’t have any idea where we were going for our honeymoon.

  “Just wondering about what kind of surprises are in store for us in our future . . .”

  I looked at her skeptically.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I don’t think there’ll be a whole lot of surprises . . .”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” I said, shrugging “just that you’re pretty predictable.”

  “I’m not predictable!” she said. “What are you talking about?”

  “Laci, are you serious? You’re probably the most predictable person I know!”

  She stared at me with her mouth open and didn’t say anything.

  “You don’t think you’re predictable?”

  She shook her head at me.

  “You wanna hear how it’s gonna go?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Okay,” I said. “We’re going to fly to . . . to somewhere today, and when we get there you’re going to complain about how much money it must be costing and how we could be saving a lot of hungry children or something with all that money instead of ‘
wasting’ it on ourselves. I’ll spend the first three days trying to convince you to relax and enjoy yourself and you’re going to be so anxious to get to your new job in Mexico that your mind won’t even be with me. How’m I doing so far?”

  She pursed her lips together because she knew I’d pegged that just about right.

  “Then,” I continued, “we’ll arrive in Mexico and decide on our house. Of course it’s got to be a BIG house because you’re going to want to have about ten or twenty babies, plus we’ll want lots of room for the kids when they come to our house for the outreach program.”

  She was going to be working for a Christian outreach organization . . . the same one we’d volunteered with when we’d gone to Mexico on our mission trip the summer before we’d started high school.

  “We’re going to have Cheerios and lollipops in the carpet and we’ll never get to have any good furniture or dishes or anything because all the little rugrats will destroy anything nice.”

  “Our rugrats or the outreach rugrats?” she asked.

  “Both.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Go on.”

  “I’m right so far, aren’t I?” I asked.

  She bit her lip and gave me a tiny smile.

  “Maybe.”

  “There’s no maybe about it,” I said. “I’m totally right and you know it.”

  “Well, keep going,” she said. “What else?”

  “Okay. Well, let’s see. You’re going to be taking the youth groups to the orphanage about twice a week, right?”

  She nodded. We hadn’t done that when we’d gone down there . . . we’d only ministered to children who had lived in a landfill.

  Lived in a landfill.

  “All right then. I suspect I’ll be getting a lot of calls from you at the orphanage. ‘David? Do you think you could come over here and try to fix this door? David? There are some wires sticking out of a wall and I’m afraid one of the kids might get shocked. Would you come and take a look at them? David? They really need me to stay late . . . would you mind picking up some Chinese take-out?”