story time

In honor of National Ice Cream day or Sundae Sunday I am going to be giving you guys a sneak peek at my mother-in-laws newest endeavor. She's started writing cute little romantic short stories that she is going to eventually compile into a book with 365 stories! Also, she will be starting her very own blog soon where she will be sharing her stories. So, here's the story she wrote just for this special occasion. Let me know what you all think!!!

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Sundae Sunday
by Deborah Belford

“Did you know the third Sunday of July is National Ice Cream Sundae Sunday?” Mark asked looking up from the newspaper he was reading.  “We should make homemade ice cream and invite some friends over.”  

“I didn’t know you knew how to make ice cream, sweetheart,” Annie replied.  

“The ladies at church are always making ice cream in the summer!  How hard could it be?”

“If you want to throw an ice cream social, Mark, I will support you any way I can. BUT you have to make the ice cream.”

“I bet you think I can’t do it,” Mark responded to her challenge.  

“I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t think you had superhuman capabilities that far surpassed the skills of every other male on the face of the planet.”

Later that evening, after Mark had spent a little time pondering the challenge, he came to Annie with his idea.

“I think we should turn this into a contest for our Sunday school class.  Every couple has to design their own sundae, and we can have the children’s department pick a winner.  We guys have to make the ice cream, and you gals will have to design the sundaes.”

“I like that idea,” Annie had to admit.  She was always surprised by how Mark was always finding ways to get people stirred up and involved.  They had met during high school when she first moved to town.  Her family had joined the little church where he went, and even then he had leadership qualities that showcased his talent for good, clean fun.

“Do you think there will be enough notice?” Mark worried.

“If we don’t do it next Sunday, we will have to wait a whole year. It’s just an old fashioned ice cream social with a twist,” she assured him.  People who didn’t know Mark better would be surprised by his little waves of insecurity.  He always overcame them, and Annie knew that he was worrying for nothing.

The next morning was Sunday, so they didn’t have long to wait to find out if the idea was going to fly.  As Annie suspected, Mark’s idea was a big hit.  Their Sunday school teacher had his wife go to the children’s department immediately to let the director know that there would be a contest between the couples in our class, and we would need judges.  We also had to invite everyone to stick around after church to help us eat up all the ice cream.  

It was billed as the Sundae Sunday, Eat Desert First Challenge.  An announcement was made from the pulpit, and everything was all set.  

At this point Annie was just as excited about her part of the challenge as Mark was about his.  She visited Martha Stewart’s website for ideas.  Then she checked Paula Dean, and Rachel Ray, and even Hungry Girl.  What had started out as an off-hand remark was turning into a big production, and Annie didn’t want to let Mark down. 

Mark went to his mother for advice about ice cream.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time?” chuckled Melissa, Mark’s mom.  “We leave town for one weekend, and you turn into the Good Humor man!”

“Just tell me how to make ice cream, Mom,” he begged, imitating his six-year-old self as best he could.  “Annie absolutely refuses to help.  She says she doesn’t know how.”

Melissa gave him a raised eyebrow look of skepticism.

“I agree, Mom.  I think she is holding back on me, too, but this has turned into a top secret enterprise.  Annie has been on line trying to get the edge, but she isn’t telling me any of her plans.  If my ice cream isn’t the best, I am going to let her down.  I’ll probably have to move back into my old bedroom.  You’ll have to move your sewing room back down into the basement.  Dad will have to put his work bench back in the garage, and your new car will get dented in the next hail storm because you have to leave it in the driveway. Are you going to help me or not?”

“When you put it that way, how can I refuse?” Melissa replied as she opened the cabinet with all her recipes.

Annie ended up making miniature pie shell that looked like stars from the top.  Mark was totally surprised by the cleverness of her contribution. She placed slender brownie planks whose tips had been dipped in red, white, and blue candy coating finished off with red, white, and blue nonpareils.  Next came Mark’s French vanilla ice cream which was not holding its shape very well, so Annie had to work fast.  She topped the ice cream with her homemade strawberry preserves, whipped cream, and finally a gummi Crabby Pattie. She didn’t want to risk losing the children’s votes.  

It was a tiny work of culinary art.  Mark just looked on with amazement as his wife of just one month (to the day), blew away all the competition.  

Waiting at the stop light on the way home, Mark reached out and took Annie’s hand.  “You do know this will probably turn into an annual event?”  

“Oh, I hope so,” Annie replied as she gazed at their certificate of achievement.  “It was a great idea. Simple! Fun!  What more could you want?”

“I’m just worried,” Mark admitted.

Annie had been admiring his hand over hers, so she missed the teasing look in his eye.

“What could you possibly be worried about?  Even Arlene Everett was having a good time, and she never likes anything fun.”

“I’m worried that you won’t be able to top today’s performance. What are you going to do next year?”

Annie knew what she would see when she looked up into his eyes.  He pulled her hand up to his lips for a quick kiss while the light turned green. His eyes were twinkling as she suspected.

“You worry too much.” 

“I love you!”

“I love you, too!”