Bygones Read Online Free PDF Page A

young, and that we wouldn't do like so many yuppies do, and both of us work until we got so independent that things began mattering more than having children. So none of this was nearly as much of a shock to us as it is to you. We're happy, Dad, honest we are, and I do love Mark very much.”
    Lisa sounded wholly convincing.
    Michael looked up at Mark, still standing behind Lisa with his hands on her collar. “Have you told your parents yet?”
    â€œYes, last night.”
    Michael felt a shaft of disappointment at being last to learn but what could he expect when Mark's family was, apparently, still an intact, happy unit? “What did they say?”
    â€œWell, they were a little surprised at first, naturally, but they know Lisa a lot better than you know me, so they got over it and we had a little celebration.”
    Lisa leaned forward and covered her mother's hand on the tabletop. “Mark has wonderful parents, Mom. They're anxious to meet you and Dad, and I promised them we'd introduce you all soon. Right away Mark's mother suggested a dinner party at their house. She said if you two are agreeable, I could set a date.”
    This isn't how it's supposed to be, Bess thought, battling tears, Michael and I practically strangers to our future son-in-law and total strangers to his family. Whatever happened to girls marrying the boy next door? Or the little brat who pulled her pigtails in the third grade? Or the one who did wheelies on his BMX bike in our driveway to impress her in junior high? Those lucky, simpler times were bygone with the era of transient executives and upward mobility, of rising divorce rates and single-parent homes.
    Everyone was waiting for Bess to respond to the news but she wasn't ready yet, emotionally. She felt like breaking down and bawling, and had to swallow hard before she could speak at all.
    â€œYour dad and I need to talk about a few things first. Would you give us a day or two to do that?”
    â€œSure.” Lisa withdrew her hand and sat back.
    â€œWould that be okay with you, Michael?” Bess asked him.
    â€œOf course.”
    Bess deposited her napkin on the table and pushed her chair back. “Then I'll call you, or Dad will.”
    â€œFine. But you aren't leaving yet, are you? I've got dessert.”
    â€œIt's late. I've got to be at the store early tomorrow. I really should be going.”
    â€œBut it's not even eight yet.”
    â€œI know, but . . .” Bess rose, dusting crumbs from her skirt, anxious to excape and examine her true feelings, to crumple and get angry if she so desired.
    â€œDad, will you stay and have dessert? I got a French silk pie from Baker's Square.”
    â€œI think I'll pass, too, honey. Maybe I can stop by tomorrow night and have some with you.”
    Michael rose, followed by Lisa, and they all stood awkwardly a moment, politely pretending this was not a scenario in which parents were running, distraught, from the announcement that their daughter was knocked up and planning a shotgun wedding, pretending this was merely a polite, everyday leave-taking.
    â€œWell, I'll get your coats, then,” Lisa said with a quavery smile.
    â€œI will, sweetheart,” Mark offered, and went to do so. In the crowded entry he politely held Bess's coat, then handed Michael's to him. There was another clumsy moment after Michael slipped his coat on, when the two men confronted each other, wondering what to say or do next. Michael offered his hand and Mark gripped it.
    â€œWe'll talk soon,” Michael said.
    â€œThank you, sir.”
    Even more awkwardly, the young man faced Bess. “Good night, Mrs. Curran,” Mark offered.
    â€œGood night, Mark.”
    Unsure of himself, he hovered, and finally Bess raised her cheek to touch his gingerly. In the cramped space before the entry door Michael gave Lisa a hug, leaving only the mother and daughter to exchange some gesture of good night. Bess found herself