*Putters around the kitchen, checking recipes and measuring
ingredients. Reads the next line, measures out some flour,
pauses, reads the line again. Why will nothing stay in his
head this evening?*
*Pours flour back in bag, wipes hands on "Kiss The Cook"
apron.*
Hey, Ange? I... think I could use a little help in here...?
------
So, the trip out to Missouri to introduce AJ and the kids to the
extended family went pretty well, all things considered. There was
some minor stress that first night when Mom insisted I sleep in the
living room while Ange and the kids got a guest room -- really, you'd
think after 42 years and a divorce I'd be done "protecting" my "honor"
-- but I managed to make it up to Maddox, at least. The day after
Christmas, we had a boys' camping night down in the living room, me
and Mads and a couple of the younger boy-cousins, which mostly
consisted of building a fort out of the couch cushions (don't tell
Mom) and the boys pleading with me to make up a story about
superheroes with names like "Poodlemancer" and "Chatgirl". (I drew
the line at "Buttman and Throbbin'", though, and the young man who
suggested it got hung upside down by his ankles and tickled, which may
have been his plan all along. Everyone knows Unca Brad is always good
for a little tickle torture.)
The whole family just ate up the kids. I knew Dad was hooked for
life when he picked up little Zed and she immediately grinned and bit
his nose. Well, gummed his nose. And Mads, who is a smart, not-shy
kid who knows an easy mark when he sees one, charmed the hell out
of Mom. She's been asking me for grandkids every Christmas for years
now, and I think she's even happier with them than she thought she
would be. (Although somehow I never noticed her horrendous taste
in baby clothes when it was my siblings' kids who were dressed in
them. But trust me, Zahara was NOT made for a frilly pink checkered
thing that looks like it came out of the
Dixie Stampede....
Which, come to think of it, it might have....)
Ange was a champ who deserves every ounce of that acting Oscar for her
brave performance in Not Laughing At The Frilly Pink Thing. Also for
Not Mocking The Day-After-Christmas Potluck Which Consisted Almost
Entirely Of Pie, Fried Chicken, And Things Made Out Of Potatoes; for
Calmly Bringing Up Her Fun On The Shooting Range And Her Knife Collection
When The Crazy NRA Talk Started; and for Going To Wal-Mart With My
Brother And Enjoying It. Doug and Julie both love her. So does
Grandma, who has a soft spot in her heart for feisty, free-spirited
women (she couldn't understand why Juliette and I ever broke up) and
who has no trouble seeing how happy I am with Ange. So does
my gun-lovin' cousin, of course, though I'm not sure his kind of love
was quite what we were aiming for. (Ange, if you suddenly find yourself
with a gift subscription to "Soldier of Fortune", you'll know who it's
from.) Even Mom and Dad, who are naturally more reserved about such
things, are really warming up to her.
[blocked from Angelina and Jen]
Mom in particular was a tough sell, but she's getting there.
She still doesn't really understand why Jen and I split. She loves
Jen, even admitted to still calling her with some regularity, "just to
make sure she's okay." I told her that's fine with me -- I really do
like how caring Mom is, and hell, I'd probably be calling Jen too if I
thought it'd do more good than harm -- but that I would appreciate her
not spilling the details of my life and ESPECIALLY Ange's and our kids'
lives to my ex. I think she got it.
Then she asked when Ange and I are getting married. Of course. It's
her way. I told her the truth: that Ange has had bad luck in
marriage, and I respect her desire not to be pushed into anything that
holds such bad meaning for her. The commitment she's already given me
is enough. And if she ever changes her mind, I'm ready.
Then I showed her the rings.
I think that put her mind at ease more than anything else short of an
actual engagement announcement could've. It was even worth Ange
almost
finding out about the rings. (She'd wig if she knew I had them. But
when she's ready, I want her to know that I'm ready, too.)
When that was settled, I explained to her that bringing up or even
hinting about marriage was exactly the WRONG way to get Ange interested
in the idea. Boy, did Mom take that to heart. I think it took five
minutes flat for every person in the house to get the message that
they were under NO circumstances to ask about marriage or engagement,
because "it would be rude to our guest." Yep, Mom still knows all
the right buttons to push.
[/blocked]
We've got a warm invitation from everyone to come back next year.
There was even some talk of going to Branson. I told them we'll see
know whether I can handle that kind of excitement. (By which I
mean that kind of excitement. Did I mention the Dixie
Stampede dress? *shudder*)
It was fun, but it's good to be back in Malibu. Happy New Year, y'all.
------
*grinning, watches Ben and Ange carry the last of the greasy dishes
into the house to wash* *sighs happily and stretches in a "this is
the life" kind of way* *kicks open cooler with one sneakered foot
and grins at Matt*
So is she a wizard with the grill, or what? We really should do this
more often, man. You want another beer?
------
OMGSQUEEBABIEEEEEYAYE!
*ahem*
Sorry for the uncharacteristic girlish exuberance, but I figured since we
have some new
people with us,
I should speak in a language everyone can understand.
(Translation for those of you who speak "guy": Behold my mighty sperm!
*thumps chest* *scratches self*)
We're absolutely thrilled.
Love you, Ange.
Jen, I'm sorry
people
are such assholes.
------
*leans in front doorway, arm around Ange, waving to Matt and Ben as they depart*
*shuts door, gives Ange a squeeze*
Well, that was fun. Now what say we go pull one of the cushions off our tastefully modernist sofa and beat me about the head and chest with it?
*grins sheepishly, sighs, buries face in Ange's shoulder*