head.
“ I think I’d better go do it, right now.” he insisted teasingly.
“ Okay.” she said. Then she suddenly realized what she’d agreed to. She’d never carried a tray in her life! What if she dropped it? How did one carry so much?
She gingerly picked it up, and found that it wasn’t heavy; but the coffee seemed to swish around in the cups like a tempest in a teapot. She grimaced, and inched her way toward the terrace door, suspiciously and fearfully staring at the coffee cups. She made it though the swinging door, and out through the dining room. At last she was on the terrace, and put the tray on the table with a sigh.
She looked up to find Philip’s eyes gently assessing her.
“ How are you this morning, young lady?” he asked with genuine interest.
Tasha shrugged, unsure what to say. Her usual self-assurance was far away. “Fine. Confused.” she admitted, blushing. “I don’t understand anything that’s happening to me.”
“ You will.” he promised. “Just trust Gary, and submit yourself to him. He’ll take good care of you.”
“ Submit? What do you mean, submit myself to him?” she asked in a brittle voice.
Philip smiled unconcernedly. “It’s very simple, Tasha. Just let him take the lead. Give in, when he makes a decision. Trust his judgment. And try to do the things he asks you to do.”
“ That’s archaic! Reverend Brooks, I am an independently wealthy woman, and I don’t have to submit to any man!”
He smiled broadly. “No, you don’t. But you will learn, Tasha. I think you’ll even want to.”
Gary entered the scene with his steaming cup of coffee. “What’s the scowl for?” he asked warily.
“ Nothing.” Tasha snapped.
Philip Brooks smiled. “Tasha finds the thought of submission distasteful. I fear I struck a nerve.”
Gary grinned. “I could have told you that.” he agreed, flashing a bright smile her way. “Don’t worry about it, honey.” he advised, chuckling. “Everything is going to be fine. Do you think I could persuade you to cook us some breakfast?” he asked hopefully.
“ Oh ... of course.” she answered woodenly. She was disconcerted by the quick change of subject. She got up, and walked back into the kitchen without further ado.
She hunted around until she found a frying pan, six eggs and a pound of bacon. The freezer yielded frozen juice, and she found a pitcher under the stove. There was fresh bread in the bread box. Once she had the butter out, she stood and looked at the stove in complete alarm.
Gary walked in to find her white as a sheet, staring at the stove with something akin to panic in her eyes.
“ Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked worriedly.
She whirled and turned eyes full of self-doubt up to him. “Gary, I don’t know what to do. I ... I mean, I’ve never cooked anything in my life. I’m sorry, I don’t know where to begin!” she admitted tearfully. “I didn’t mean to let you down.”
He blinked, and stared down at her. “You’ve never ... cooked anything?” he echoed in disbelief.
“ No!” she wailed quietly.
“ Oh, my gosh.” he chuckled. “Tasha, I had no idea. Honey, I’m sorry. I’ll show you, it’s easy.”
He started the bacon, and got out the toaster. “You see how easy it is to submit?” he asked teasingly. “You wanted to please me so badly that you tried – though you had no idea what to do. You know, it’s not just a male-female thing, honey. It’s a way of life for all of us, submitting to those God has placed in our lives for balance and guidance. It’s about trusting one another and being willing to do what’s needed by others. It’s
“ I think I’d better go do it, right now.” he insisted teasingly.
“ Okay.” she said. Then she suddenly realized what she’d agreed to. She’d never carried a tray in her life! What if she dropped it? How did one carry so much?
She gingerly picked it up, and found that it wasn’t heavy; but the coffee seemed to swish around in the cups like a tempest in a teapot. She grimaced, and inched her way toward the terrace door, suspiciously and fearfully staring at the coffee cups. She made it though the swinging door, and out through the dining room. At last she was on the terrace, and put the tray on the table with a sigh.
She looked up to find Philip’s eyes gently assessing her.
“ How are you this morning, young lady?” he asked with genuine interest.
Tasha shrugged, unsure what to say. Her usual self-assurance was far away. “Fine. Confused.” she admitted, blushing. “I don’t understand anything that’s happening to me.”
“ You will.” he promised. “Just trust Gary, and submit yourself to him. He’ll take good care of you.”
“ Submit? What do you mean, submit myself to him?” she asked in a brittle voice.
Philip smiled unconcernedly. “It’s very simple, Tasha. Just let him take the lead. Give in, when he makes a decision. Trust his judgment. And try to do the things he asks you to do.”
“ That’s archaic! Reverend Brooks, I am an independently wealthy woman, and I don’t have to submit to any man!”
He smiled broadly. “No, you don’t. But you will learn, Tasha. I think you’ll even want to.”
Gary entered the scene with his steaming cup of coffee. “What’s the scowl for?” he asked warily.
“ Nothing.” Tasha snapped.
Philip Brooks smiled. “Tasha finds the thought of submission distasteful. I fear I struck a nerve.”
Gary grinned. “I could have told you that.” he agreed, flashing a bright smile her way. “Don’t worry about it, honey.” he advised, chuckling. “Everything is going to be fine. Do you think I could persuade you to cook us some breakfast?” he asked hopefully.
“ Oh ... of course.” she answered woodenly. She was disconcerted by the quick change of subject. She got up, and walked back into the kitchen without further ado.
She hunted around until she found a frying pan, six eggs and a pound of bacon. The freezer yielded frozen juice, and she found a pitcher under the stove. There was fresh bread in the bread box. Once she had the butter out, she stood and looked at the stove in complete alarm.
Gary walked in to find her white as a sheet, staring at the stove with something akin to panic in her eyes.
“ Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked worriedly.
She whirled and turned eyes full of self-doubt up to him. “Gary, I don’t know what to do. I ... I mean, I’ve never cooked anything in my life. I’m sorry, I don’t know where to begin!” she admitted tearfully. “I didn’t mean to let you down.”
He blinked, and stared down at her. “You’ve never ... cooked anything?” he echoed in disbelief.
“ No!” she wailed quietly.
“ Oh, my gosh.” he chuckled. “Tasha, I had no idea. Honey, I’m sorry. I’ll show you, it’s easy.”
He started the bacon, and got out the toaster. “You see how easy it is to submit?” he asked teasingly. “You wanted to please me so badly that you tried – though you had no idea what to do. You know, it’s not just a male-female thing, honey. It’s a way of life for all of us, submitting to those God has placed in our lives for balance and guidance. It’s about trusting one another and being willing to do what’s needed by others. It’s
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