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We went into the kitchen to help her mother cook supper. Actually, Mister Mason and I were there to offer immoral [sic] support until we were drafted into making the tossed salad. We cut vegetables merrily slicing and dicing like we knew what we were doing. Mister Mason might have. I didn’t though I didn’t let that keep me from cutting big things into little things.
Missus Mason looked over my shoulder and said, “Brad, that brings to mind a whole new picture when the words, cut up, are used in this house. Save some effort. Your finished pieces should be four times the size they are now.”
That brought Karen over for a look. She grinned. Lover, you have cut up the salad veggies like you love, thoroughly and completely.” She stepped back to her mother. She said, “Mom, do you realize that man has made me faint five times from loving me!”
Missus Mason blushed. “I thought Don was the only man who could do that! Isn’t it wonderful, dear?”
Karen was in shock. She recovered a moment later. “Yes, mom, it’s quite wonderful!”
She gave her father a quizzical look. Don simply continued to placidly cut vegetables for the salad. After a minute or so, he said, “The only thing about great performances is that women expect that they should be easily repeatable.” He didn’t crack a smile and I knew that I wanted to emulate that relaxed posture. In its way, it was a hundred times cooler than cool.
Missus Mason said, “What are you wearing to church, dear?”
“I am debating. I brought two outfits and Brad is familiar with both. One is a gray skirt and a deep blue silk blouse. The other is a green dress that’s a little more scandalous. It’s shorter and lower.”
“Wear the green. It will give some of the old fogies’ hearts a charge. They need it. The new pastor who was appointed last June is unsure of himself and therefore is a bit stuffy.
“Seeing a beautiful couple who are hot for each other and have enough left over to light fires all around them might help people realize that we are supposed to be alive.
“I want you to find opportunities to tell people that you and Brad have established a tradition already of holding hands and praying at every meal. Make a little spectacle of yourself by showing everyone how happy you are. I can see it in your eyes and even more when you look at him. It’s obvious in the way you touch each other.
“Karen,” she stopped and looked at both of us and her husband. “I’m not sure getting married in our church will be what I want to suggest. If Pastor Dan was still here, it might have been different. Since it’s a double wedding, no one’s nose can get far out of joint if it’s not at our church. Talk to Brad, Melissa, and Paul. The four of you need to make a joint decision. You like that church at school?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s where all four of you are comfortable. That’s where Brad proposed. Don and I want you to think about your memories. We are thrillingly proud of you and will love you forever. We want you to be true to you.”
Mister Mason said, “Helen is right, Karen. It’s your wedding, not ours. We are happy to participate in it and proud for you. Where it happens is not very important. What happens is important.”
Karen said, “I will reserve my decision until after tomorrow morning. You two are probably right as usual. That’s one reason we’re here. Oh, Melissa and I talked and the second week in June is the target. The first weekend would not have been good for her. Neither of us will wait beyond then.”
Mister Mason said, “We will circle that weekend in gold. Where do you live in relation to the college, Brad?”
“Further up the Interstate and a little west.”
“What about Melissa and Paul?”
“I believe Melissa is due west. Paul is due south. That does suggest that the college is a central point for all the families.”
Missus Mason said, “If you guys are finished cutting the salad, we’re ready. Karen, get your dressing out. We’ll have the salad and then serve plates.”
Karen took a jar from the fridge. She set it down and took up two large salad spoons and tossed the salad gently. “Lover, drizzle the dressing as I toss it. The object is to spread the dressing evenly through the salad items with everything mixed thoroughly.” I must understand drizzle well enough. I quit when told and put the top back on the jar though there was almost nothing left. Missus Mason took the jar and handed me four salad bowls. I spread those in front of Karen. She filled two and I took them to the dining room table. By the time I returned, the other two were ready. I took them in while the bowl was placed in the sink. The other three filed in behind me and we all sat down. Mister Mason prayed as we held hands around the table.
The salad was delicious. I knew it wasn’t our cutting of the greens. “Love, you made the dressing?”
“Yes. Is it okay?”
“It’s delicious. Is it your recipe?”
“Yes, Lover.”
“Great. We can have it in the future.”
We finished our salads and I helped Missus Mason serve our plates with spaghetti. She didn’t put out any Parmesan cheese. I asked about that and she said, “We have it but try it first.”
“Sure.” I carried two plates while she carried the other two. We set them before the others, sat down, and dug in. It was delicious and different. I’m glad I listened to Missus Mason and said so. I added, “Is this your recipe?”
“Yes, Brad. If you want, I will give it to Karen.”
“Yes, ma’am. Please do. It’s great.”
We talked of innocuous things during the remainder of the meal. It was a relaxing time. An interesting subject was the story we were writing for our English class. Mister and Missus Mason were interested in our premises and the way we were writing it. Once we moved to the living room, I got out my tablet and let them read what we had thus far.
Mister Mason said, “You’ve made it interesting. Considering your ages, you have caught some of the issues of older people.” He thought for a second. “Actually, even not considering your age, you’re doing a good job.”
Missus Mason said, “Karen send us a copy of it when you’re done. I like that you’re taking turns writing chapters from the different perspectives.”
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