"I don't like it! It seems fishy. Lurch has never met the lady. For all he knows, she could be an old hag. And what woman would willingly marry a man she's never seen?"
"Now Uncle Fester, we should be supportive of Lurch. The poor dear has enough fears and worries as is. And besides, looks aren't everything."
Morticia sat in her chair, calmly knitting, while Uncle Fester stared anxiously out the window. The rabid thunderstorm had mellowed to a subtle shower and steam could be seen emanating from the hot ground. Fragments of sunlight were beginning to break through the clouds.
"Maybe she won't come now that the weather's getting bad," he said hopefully. Morticia gave him a knowing look before turning her attention to the movement descending the stairs.
"Oh Lurch, you look marvelous!" She sprang to meet him.
"I do?" He stood at the foot of the stairs with Gomez complacently at his side.
She emphatically nodded. "Absolutely! The green cravat and emerald cufflinks are the perfect complements to your lovely pallor."
"She's here!" The bombastic foghorn sounded seconds after Uncle Fester's excited declaration.
"Can't. Do. This."
"Lurch," Morticia quickly grabbed his sweaty hand, "she traveled all this way for you. Don't you think you could at least open the door and talk to her? Gomez and I will be right here."
Lurch turned to Gomez for reassurance, then looked back at Morticia and nodded. Cautiously, he inched towards the front door, turning every so often to make sure the couple was near. With tremulous hands, he turned the knob.
"Hello! I'm -" The delicate voice was cut off by the bang of a closing door.
Gomez and Morticia, who were standing a few feet behind him, looked at one another, confused about Lurch's sudden action.
"Lurch," Gomez spoke up, "you just slammed the door in that girl's face."
Lurch moaned, trembling even more than before. "She's... too... pretty."
"Too pretty? This I gotta see," Uncle Fester barged his way through the trio and opened the door. "Hiya! I'm Fester, Fester Frump. You must be Lurch's bride-to-be?"
"Yes, I'm Giselle Blackshaw." She flashed a smile of her perfectly white teeth, trying not to notice Uncle Fester's scrutinizing eyes looking her up and down.
"Uh – huh… err, I can take your bag."
"Oh, um, thank you."
The door was about to shut in her face once more when Gomez quickly caught it. "Miss Blackshaw is it? I'm Mr. Addams. Please, won't you come in?" He held out his arm for her. "I hope you can excuse Lurch and Fester. They were a bit excited."
The tall blonde's tenseness rapidly evaporated under Gomez's charm. "It's alright Mr. Addams. I'm rather accustomed to men…" she paused, taking the time to move closer to him, close enough to inspect his well-cut suit and expensive cigar. "Getting excited around me," she nearly purred.
"And this is my lovely wife, Mrs. Addams."
Giselle removed her arm from his, her smile fading substantially. "Oh. Hello," she said flatly.
"How do you do, Miss Blackshaw? Please, come sit," Morticia graciously welcomed. "I'm sure you are tired from a long trip. Lurch why don't – Lurch?" As if on cue, the first notes of a slow ballad began playing from the living room. She smiled, "that's him now." She led the young lady down the step, into the living room, and over to the grand harpsicord.
"Giselle, we'd like you to meet Lurch, the best harpsicord player we know," Gomez boasted.
"What a coincidence! I just adore the harpsicord - and especially men who play it."
The shaky butler suddenly lost his spot and the music came to a halt. He turned in awe to the woman who proclaimed such words. "You do?"
"Of course! What sensible woman wouldn't?"
A lopsided grin broke the austere face. As Lurch stood up, his confidence seemed to grow with every added inch. "Mrs. Addams, could we… have tea… now?"
Once everyone was seated, Giselle wasted no time in starting conversation. "Lurch, I've heard so much about you. You are exactly the sort of man I've always dreamed of."
"I am?"
"Yes. Tall, dark, handsome, talented, mysterious," she took a sip of tea, "rich. The stuff of novels, really." Lurch proudly took a swig of his own tea. He sat with the expression of a kid showing off an all "A" report card.
Morticia beamed at the couple on the couch across from her. "We are glad you think so highly of Lurch. He's such a sweet, gentle soul."
"I could tell he was the gentle kind the moment I laid eyes on him. When I was a pageant girl, you wouldn't believe how some of the men acted."
"A - pageant girl?" Morticia croaked.
"In my younger days, not anymore of course. I was runner up for Miss America a couple years ago." She uncrossed and re-crossed her long, slender legs, fidgeting with her mini skirt each time it crept up. "I mainly work as a model now."
"You definitely have the credentials." Gomez said, eliciting a shocked glance from Morticia.
"We hope you will find the guest room inviting. Though I do apologize, our vulture Zelda has been feeling a bit under the weather lately, so Gomez and I have put her in our room with us." Morticia shook her head and sighed, "She's always been such a comfort for guests…"
"A vulture?" Giselle nervously chuckled. "You have quite the sense of humor." But when neither Morticia, Gomez, nor Lurch cracked a smile she grew silent.
"Do you have any pets, Miss Blackshaw?" Gomez asked between casual cigar puffs.
"Oh no, no. Animals are so smelly and messy and, well frankly, a nuisance."
"I. Like. Animals." Lurch finally spoke.
"Yes, Lurch is wonderful with animals. You should see how well he gets along with them." Morticia took her last sip of tea before continuing on, "Oh and the bats! He just loves sleeping with the bats."
"Bats?" Giselle swallowed. "I – I like bats, though I - I can't say I've slept with them."
She finally took the time to allow herself to gaze around the room. The eccentricities of her hosts began to materialize. Sure, their mannerisms were a little odd at first, but Mr. Addams seemed normal enough. She sighed, it's too bad he was already taken. Lurch wasn't exactly what she had pictured, but he was quiet and easily swayed and, according to the letters, wealthy. But why would he need to live in a strange house like this, with all these other people? As for Mrs. Addams – she inwardly shuddered – she's sure she has never seen such a ghostly looking woman in all her life. And who wears a long sleeved, full length black gown during springtime?
"Would you like it as a wedding gift, Miss Blackshaw?" A male voice interrupted her thoughts. "I'm not sure how he'll feel about being separated from his other half, but for you and Lurch, we'd be glad to give you it."
Giselle's eyes widened, suddenly aware that she had been staring at a tail swinging from the backside of a mounted moose. Before she could respond, a large hand sprang out of the box next to Morticia's chair. "Gahh!" she gasped, nearly jumping into Lurch's lap.
"That's Thing," Lurch pointed out.
"Where's the rest of him?!"
Lurch responded with a low growl and a shrug.
"Why thank you, Thing." Morticia gracefully set down her cup and saucer. "Everyone, dinner is ready."
Giselle scrambled to her feet. "Do you mind if I use the powder room?"
"Not at all," Morticia cordially said. "The powder room is down the hall, second door to the left. If you've reached the swamp you've gone too far."