Finally -- Dale Gets Married, part two

Bob was sitting in his chair, smoking his pipe and reading the newspaper. He always seemed to be calm about such things. Leta alternated between walking around the room and looking out the window. As it was late afternoon and even though the sky was dark with thick thunderclouds, she had the drapes still open.

“Please, Leta,” Bob said after a few more minutes of her restlessness. “Please sit down. They’ll get here when they get here.”

“But I’m so nervous,” she said, stepping away from the window. “Dale has never brought a girl over to meet us before.”

Bob had pulled the paper away from his face, but he still held it up. “He never even seemed to have a girl before,” he clarified.

“And now he does!” Leta noted. “What if I don’t like her?”

Bob sighed. “You’ll like her.”

Leta crossed the room and sat on the chair. She reached toward her thighs to press down her dress and gasped in surprise.

“What?” Bob asked.

“Oh, Lord,” she moaned. “I’m still wearing my apron!” She stood immediately. “Why didn’t you tell me that I was still wearing my apron?”

“You’re always wearing an apron,” he answered shortly.

“I can’t wear an apron to meet my son’s girlfriend,” she charged, walking quickly toward the kitchen while loosening the bow she had tied in the back.

Bob growled in frustration and returned to his paper.

Leta checked the beef roast she was cooking, removed her apron, adjusted her dress, and checked her hair. She was just returning to look out the front window once again, when the front door opened.

“Ma, we’re here!” Dale called.

Leta and Bob met them as they entered the living room.

“Welcome, welcome,” Leta said, offering her hand to the young woman. “I’m Mrs. Fields, Dale’s mother. Glad to meet you.”

The young woman took her hand limply and smiled back. “How do you do?” she said confidently.

Dale interrupted the greeting by initiating his own introduction. “And this is Bob, I mean, Mr. Fields.”

The young woman shook his hand, as well.

“You can call me Bob,” he said. “I don’t mind that at all.”

She turned to Dale and nodded her head toward Leta.

“What?” he asked.

She widened her eyes imploringly and nodded even harder.

Suddenly Dale understood. “Aw, crimony!” he cried as he slapped himself in the forehead.

“Ma, Bob, this is Kate—Kathryn—Peer.”

To be continued.