MARRIED... and facing the real world (Part 47d)

I have no memory of that week at all. The only thing I remember of Friday was that Elle’s parents were still up when we pulled into the driveway. For us to have gotten home that early I must’ve cut my afternoon classes. I don’t think I was all that nervous when we walked in the front door but I know Elle was. I remember standing outside waiting for her mother to open the door and her shivering. It wasn’t that cold and we’d just come from a warm car so it had to have been nerves.

The first thing out of her mother’s mouth was to ask if she was OK. Elle had never come home without first talking to to her. When she finally spoke I remember her exact words... “Mom... I’m married!” It wasn’t “we’re married” but “I’m married”. I remember looking at her father’s face and I really don’t remember his expression changing. Her mother, on the other hand, ran straight to Elle and threw her arms around her. Other than that I don’t remember much until Elle’s father suggested that we all sit down. The only thing I truly remember saying was that we were definitely finishing college. Other than that it was all Elle and her mother until her father said he was going to bed. After he left I remember Elle’s mother asking me/us if we’d told my parents.

That was the real problem. I’d gone over a whole bunch of scenarios trying to anticipate what might actually happen. When We finally went upstairs to bed I couldn’t sleep at all. I was awake for all three of Elle’s toilet visits. She was still in bed when I went downstairs. I’d heard her father leave for work just as it was getting light. Her mother was baking in the kitchen when I walked in. I was surprised when she walked up to me and hugged me. Then, still holding on to me, she looked up at me (she was only 5’1“ and I was 6’1”) and reminded me about finishing college. I promised that we would both finish and then she gave me another hug.

When Elle finally came downstairs she came up to me and whispered that she just couldn’t go with me when I went across the street to tell my parents. We’d discussed it in the past and she’d warned me that she might not be up to it so it wasn’t a big surprise. I could see the shades were up over at my house and that’s when I started to get nervous. I think it was around 9am when I finally headed that way.

When I got to the kitchen door I couldn’t breath. I walked in and my ftaher was sitting on a stool with the newspaper spread out on the counter in front of him. My mother was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette and with a cup of coffee. I stepped inside and shut the door. My father turned and looked at me but didn’t say anything. My mother, who could always read me “like a book” had a look on her face that told me she knew something not very good was about to happen. In my mind it seemed like an eternity before my father spoke. I don’t remember what he said but when I didn’t answer him my mother spoke up... “Is Elle pregnant?” My jaw probably dropped when I heard her say that and the next thing I knew my father was in my face. “Is she?” He spit the words at me and I could see his face was all red. I still didn’t answer and he stepped back. When he did I could see that he had both his hands balled up into fists. I truly thought he was going to hit me. From the corner where my mother was sitting I heard “ANSWER HIM!” Somehow I managed to get out the words “We’re married” and with that my father stepped back another few steps. He glared at me said but two words... “YOU BASTARD!” and then turned and went back to the stool. Once there he turned around and, much calmer, said “You’re on your own now. Get out!” I reached for the door handle and as I opened the door I heard him say that I had to go tell my grandparents. Somehow I’d managed to forget about that even though the whole situation was precipitated by their view that Elle wasn’t worthy of me. As I walked back to Elle’s I started worrying about what I’d say to them. The ordeal wasn’t over.

That evening, after supper, Elle’s father was the one to bring up the $1,000. He asked what we palnned to do with it and I know he wasn’t pleased when I/we told him that it was going to be used as a down payment on a “trailer”. We probaly spent a half hour trying to describe what it was like. But, in their minds only “gypsies” lived in a trailer. I made a little headway with them when I explained that if we used it for rent we’d have nothing when it was gone. At least we’d own something when it was paid for. I know I impressed Elle’s mother with that thinking. She was the one who paid the bills and was a “saver”. By the time we went up to bed I felt we had won over her parents. Her mother was going to notify the local papers and send out wedding announcements. She was sure that some of her friends would help us out with gifts. Honestly, I never gave that angle a thought but it was nice to know of the potential.

Sleep was, again, elusive. On this night it was the thought of stopping to tell my grandparents. In the case of my parents I was more scared of what they might do than anything else. For my grandparents I was feeling badly because, even though their reasons for not approving Elle and I together were wrong, I knew the news would hurt them. Being old and set in their ways I was concerned that they might just shut me out of their lives. Also, in the case of my grandfather it was how his relationship with AJ and the horses would play out for me.

Elle wanted to get back to school fairly early. She hadn’t brought much schoolwork home with her and didn’t want to go to classes the next day unprepared. I figured the best way to handle telling my grandparents was to stop on our way back. It was about 10am or so and when I walked in my grandfather was sitting at his desk typing something. My grandmother, as always, was sitting in her rocking chair, knitting. It was obvious that my parents hadn’t told them I was home because they were really surprised to see me. The first words out of my grandfather’s mouth were... “Is everything OK?’. As nervous as I was I don’t remember how I told him or what I said. But, after I did I do remember him just turning back to his typewriter and ignoring me. I stood there for a few minutes and finally said ”Good bye“ without getting a response. I don’t think my grandmother ever stopped knitting.

To be continued...