happens if we agree and then it’s a disaster and the whole organization falls apart?”
Another member waved. “Why would it fall apart?”
“Because we’re not the same anymore. Men might think our worries are silly. My husband used to—” She looked at the newer ladies. “He died from a coronary thrombosis. Hecalled me a worrywart. He said I always looked for the worst. I thought I was being realistic. Bad things happen. They did to him when he died so young.”
Kelsey cringed. She’d talked to Ross about being practical. Realistic. Weren’t they the same? But his suggestion to be adventuresome, to take a risk, opened the door to a real date. Practicality had its merit but she had to admit that risk taking could also be exciting.
Diane raised her hand. “Look at us here, though. We have different opinions, but we still care about each other. We still support each other. That’s why I came back to this group. I didn’t expect everyone to agree all the time. And some will never participate, but that’s okay.”
The comment struck another chord with Kelsey. She and Ross wouldn’t agree all the time. That was reality. But they still supported each other and cared about their girls. The idea washed over her like a warm bath. That was comfort. “You’re right. We are different and have different needs, but we’re comfortable with that, and I think the men would realize that, too, when they saw how we work together.”
“Kelsey.” Ava stood this time.
She gave a nod. “Go ahead.”
“Could we open it to men on a trial basis? Make it clear that if they were uncomfortable—or we were—that they could start their own group?” She motioned to the new woman in the back. “Once men start to come, new ones will join and soon they could become DOSK.” She grinned. “Dads of Special Kids.”
Voices flew at her. “That will work.”
“I like that idea.”
“Let’s try it.”
For Kelsey, the idea fell flat, but it was better than nothing. “Is this what you want?”
Most nodded while only a few shook their heads. “Then let’s put it to a vote.”
A few hands shot up. Then others followed. Two people—including herself—struggled with the yes with an addendum, but the vote passed.
As the women filed out, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse, weighing the urge to call Ross now or wait until he called her about the date.
Date. The word made her feel giddy.
“You’re not really happy, are you?” Lexie’s hand rested on her shoulder.
“Better than a no vote.”
She nodded. “Ross will see it as good news.”
Kelsey lifted her hand to show Lexie her cell phone. “I’m going to call him.”
“Tell him hello from us.” She gave a wave and strode toward the exit.
Kelsey sank into a chair and looked at the phone. She should be smiling, but she felt uneasy. She closed her eyes, opened them and hit the contacts button. Ross’s number came in sight, and before she could change her mind, she hit Send. When he answered, air drained from her lungs. After she got out the yes vote, she had to wrap her mind around the condition.
“A trial period?” Ross’s voice rose in pitch. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy but—”
“I know. I feel the same way.”
“Thanks, Kelsey. I know that wasn’t an easy vote for the ladies. I hope I haven’t created a mess for you.”
“Don’t worry. They’ll get used to the idea.” She grasped at anything to lighten the mood. “It’ll add a little adventure to their lives.”
He chuckled. “Speaking of adventure, what about that date?”
Her spirit lifted. “What do you have in mind?”
“This Saturday about 6:30. Dinner at Clawson Steak House, and they have a dance band. We can talk and enjoy the music.”
“That sounds nice, Ross. I’ll get a sitter, or maybe Lucy can stay with Lexie. I’ll check. It works for me.”
“Great, and thanks for letting me know about the vote. I’ll give you a couple of weeks to adjust and