justprompts - Right
“Our son is getting married.”
I turned my head as Jonathan sat down beside me on the couch. One look at his wounded expression and I closed my laptop, pulled off my glasses, and placed both items on the coffee table in front of us. “Yes,” I replied, with a faint smile. “Our son is getting married.”
He just stared blankly ahead, as if the realization was finally sinking in. “Our son is getting married.”
I chuckled, then crawled onto his lap, kissing his forehead. “Well, at least he’s getting married and he hasn’t just…gotten married, like last time.” This prompted a steely glare from him. “Oh, come on. He’s being responsible now. We have to give him credit for that.”
He shook his head. “Hey, now, don’t play the role of calm, collected spouse with me. You were just as bad, if not worse, when he told you.”
“I recovered quickly,” I insisted, with a hint of defensiveness. “You, however, have been sulking like a child for the past two days. So what’s the deal? You like Eirene.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I like Eirene. I like her a whole lot as his girlfriend, but fiancee is a whole other story.”
“Jonathan, he’s happy.”
“He’s too young.”
“We were exactly his age when we got married!” I exclaimed, on the verge of laughter.
“Different time,” he scoffed. “It was the ‘80s. Things were…well, different.”
“You’re deluding yourself, buddy,” I said, my arms circling his neck. “Do you remember when we decided to get married, and you went to ask my father for permission?” He merely grunted in response. Not a particularly pleasant memory. “You and I know better than anyone how hard it is to have someone try to stand in the way of our happiness. Don’t let this be like that. Don’t be my dad. They’re good kids, they deserve better. We don’t want to be the in-laws from hell. We want them to actually talk to us after they get married.”
A long, drawn out sigh as he leaned his forehead against mine. “I just want him to be careful, Martha.”
“I know you do, sweetheart,” I answered, softly. “But we have to trust him. He knows what he’s doing. This is right. And look at the role models he’s got.”
Jonathan lifted his head a little to smile at me. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Mrs. Kent. If he follows our lead, he’ll really have something to look forward to in twenty-five years.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
I turned my head as Jonathan sat down beside me on the couch. One look at his wounded expression and I closed my laptop, pulled off my glasses, and placed both items on the coffee table in front of us. “Yes,” I replied, with a faint smile. “Our son is getting married.”
He just stared blankly ahead, as if the realization was finally sinking in. “Our son is getting married.”
I chuckled, then crawled onto his lap, kissing his forehead. “Well, at least he’s getting married and he hasn’t just…gotten married, like last time.” This prompted a steely glare from him. “Oh, come on. He’s being responsible now. We have to give him credit for that.”
He shook his head. “Hey, now, don’t play the role of calm, collected spouse with me. You were just as bad, if not worse, when he told you.”
“I recovered quickly,” I insisted, with a hint of defensiveness. “You, however, have been sulking like a child for the past two days. So what’s the deal? You like Eirene.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I like Eirene. I like her a whole lot as his girlfriend, but fiancee is a whole other story.”
“Jonathan, he’s happy.”
“He’s too young.”
“We were exactly his age when we got married!” I exclaimed, on the verge of laughter.
“Different time,” he scoffed. “It was the ‘80s. Things were…well, different.”
“You’re deluding yourself, buddy,” I said, my arms circling his neck. “Do you remember when we decided to get married, and you went to ask my father for permission?” He merely grunted in response. Not a particularly pleasant memory. “You and I know better than anyone how hard it is to have someone try to stand in the way of our happiness. Don’t let this be like that. Don’t be my dad. They’re good kids, they deserve better. We don’t want to be the in-laws from hell. We want them to actually talk to us after they get married.”
A long, drawn out sigh as he leaned his forehead against mine. “I just want him to be careful, Martha.”
“I know you do, sweetheart,” I answered, softly. “But we have to trust him. He knows what he’s doing. This is right. And look at the role models he’s got.”
Jonathan lifted his head a little to smile at me. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Mrs. Kent. If he follows our lead, he’ll really have something to look forward to in twenty-five years.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.