The Wolf in Sheep's ClothingOne Sunday afternoon as everyone was doing their post sermon meet and greet routines, a family friend introduced Becky to a man named David Gillespie. David was a short, stocky, fair skinned red head with black wire rimmed glasses. He was a twenty-six year old ex-cop who was currently the church’s bus driver and deacon, among other things. My mother fell for David almost immediately. David was the epitome of the lady’s man: romantic, charming and silver tongued. He and Becky had many fireside conversations that lasted into the wee hours of the morning. He took her to dinner quite a bit and even went as far as to take Katy and me to the St. Louis Zoo and to Six Flags. My mother was struggling financially at the time, so these gestures were a breath of fresh air to her. David used to take me fishing as well. He called it ‘Doing the guy thing.’ Fishing with him became an activity that I feared terribly. One cold winter evening in front of the fire place, David proposed to my mother. Although their courtship was brief, only a few months, Becky quickly accepted as tears of joy streamed down her face. If Becky only knew that in a few short months, she’d be crying all the time, just not happy tears. The result of her decision to marry David Gillespie had a lasting effect on me.
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