The Webber Inquisition
This takes place in mid-April, the night after the Induction Ceremony of the last chapter.
Jeff Webber's comfortable, New-England style dining room was about to turn into a battlefield. And what's more, he knew it.
As commander-in-chief against the forces of terror, Jeff sat solidly and stoically at the head of the large Queen Anne table, his hands firmly folded and his eyes staring straight ahead as he waited for the total pandemonium that would undoubtedly ensue. His wife bustled about in the kitchen, taking the lasagna out of the oven and getting the rolls out of the toaster oven.
When nations went to war, they were courteous enough to serve unambiguous notice. After Pearl Harbor, as he thought it fair to assume, it was highly unlikely that the President and his advisors sat around scratching their heads and musing, "Now, what the heck do you suppose they meant by that?"
But when a daughter – a formerly reliable, practical, logical daughter - metamorphosed into a typical teenage daughter, she did so in secret conspiracy, deliberately choosing not to advise her loving, protective father that she had decided it was time to take all his reasonable rules and toss them out into the rose bushes.
However, Jeff had already received a clue as to his daughter's newfound temperament. On the drive home after the induction ceremony, he had innocuously inquired as to what Elizabeth's relation was to that nice young man, as Caroline referred to the deviant, only to have the entire conversation spin rapidly and perilously out of control before he could put up any reasonable parental road blocks to stop the runaway train.
Elizabeth was vague, which was reason enough to be suspicious – his daughter didn't even know the meaning of the word. Every opinion she held was carefully crafted and considered, and once realized, she wasn't the least bit hesitant to share it with anyone within a ten-mile radius that asked. So when she mumbled, "I don't know – it's kinda complicated," the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Trouble was brewing, he had decided as he nervously twiddled his thumbs over the steering wheel. By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.
His wife had obviously decided that when there was an elephant in the corner, the best thing to do was to give it a good, sharp crack of the whip. "Are you two going out?" she had asked, a question so couched in innocence that Elizabeth only blinked and he himself almost forgot that it was his cue to begin retching and searching for a hemlock to swallow.
His eyes had been on the rearview mirror as soon as the words left Caroline's mouth. So carefully had he been watching his youngest for her answer that he had almost not noticed the red light in front of him, giving him only about twenty yards to bring his vehicle to a screeching halt.
Elizabeth had been staring out the window, nibbling on her lip. It was never a good sign when she did that. Ever.
So considering that alone, why did the fact that she said, "I guess we kind of are," make his hands tighten on the wheel until his knuckles turned white?
His wife had prattled on about how lovely the situation was, and how lovely a boy Jason was, and how lovely the two of them looked together – proving once again that women had no business using the English language. Roses were lovely. A sunny day was lovely. A hormonally-charged teenage boy gawking over his sweet little girl was anything but lovely.
So he had lovingly – and reasonably – suggested that maybe it wasn't such a hot idea for her to get too involved with anyone, as she still had to finish out the school year and was looking forward to college the following year.
However, neither of the two women in the car thought his paternal wisdom was loving or reasonable. His wife had huffed in disbelief and folded her arms, leaving the arguing and flipping out to his youngest who, as usual, didn't disappoint. By the time they arrived at their house, he felt more hen-pecked than the lone rooster at an egg farm.
Elizabeth had stomped up to her room immediately, refusing to speak to him, and Jeff was only too grateful that his wife didn't order him onto the couch. Women were irrational and high-maintenance, but he had to live with them anyway.
His daughter had run off to school the next day, sure to spend more time than appropriate with the miscreant, and his wife hadn't been too pleased with him either as they drove to Mercy. During the day, however, she had forgiven him for the horrible transgression of looking out for his daughter.
So Caroline wasn't the problem anymore. But the little girl upstairs still was.
Elizabeth's footsteps could be heard as she descended the stairs at 7:00 on the dot for dinner. For all her sudden erratic behavior, Jeff had to admit that his girl was highly disciplined for her age. On the rare evenings when both he and his wife were to be home for dinner, Elizabeth was sure to be downstairs at exactly seven, and she'd even help if she didn't have too much homework.
Jeff's hands curled into two fists in his lap as her bare feet trudged up the carpet on her way across the adjacent living room. Easy does it, Jeff, he told himself. Just hold steady, old boy.
For as soon as Elizabeth came down, he'd be sure to be subjected to the silent treatment for the first fifteen minutes. Then, one of two things would happen: either he'd be stupid enough to say something disagreeable, thus causing his daughter to flare up like a garbage can fire and therefore beginning World War III, or his wife would release some sort of barbed statement that would instantly remind his daughter of why she was mad at him, and therefore beginning World War III.
He'd heard similar horror stories from his brother as he dealt with his two teenage twins, his own nephew that everyone called Lucky, and his niece Leslie. He had laughed then, saying that neither of his daughters gave him any trouble – both were too busy with school and music and extra-curriculars to have time to behave erratically.
Well, karma had decided otherwise. And karma was a bitch.
Because try as he might, there was no way that Jeff would be able to escape another epic battle between the forces of good and the forces of the teenager.
Elizabeth appeared in the dining room and immediately poked her head into the kitchen. Jeff noticed the guilty set of her shoulders as she saw that her mother had already prepared dinner without her help.
"Oh, honey, there you are," Caroline smiled, picking up the lasagna and the tray of dinner rolls from the counter. Elizabeth had come home late from school that day and had immediately run upstairs to shower and change before coming down to eat. "How was school?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she dutifully took the two trays from her mother and moved to set them on the table before her father. "Painful."
Caroline's eyebrows crinkled in amusement. "Oh? How so?" She had left the kitchen and was pouring three glasses of water for everyone at the table, and Elizabeth had already slid into her usual seat next to her father. Her grandfather and grandmother were off playing badminton with some of their friends at the gym, so it was only the three of them tonight.
"Well, the paper was supposed to go out yesterday, or so I thought," Elizabeth explained as she began cutting the lasagna into individual servings. "But I got to school early this morning and Ms. Bedford and Ryan were sitting at his computer completely re-doing the Sports page because the computer totally ate it."
"Oh, no," Caroline clucked at exactly the right moment as she passed Jeff his silverware. "What happened?"
Elizabeth shrugged as she carefully lifted a piece and put it in her mother's place before serving her father. "No idea. But it had to be re-done. And Ryan was horribly sick today, too, but he came at six to work on it, and he left when school started, because technically, he wasn't supposed to be on campus at all. And then it turned out that all of the pages had some problem or another, so we all ended up staying after school until 6:00 to finish it and save it on the disk. It was a nightmare."
Caroline was following this conversation more closely than Jeff was, but in his defense, Jeff was still far too surprised that the conversation had nothing to do with the fact that he was supposedly the meanest father in the world.
And he liked it.
So, if Elizabeth wasn't going to torture him with silence or cause his eardrums to explode with her arguing, he wasn't going to do anything to set her off, either.
"Pass the salt, please," he cut in cheerfully, smiling at his daughter when she obliged.
"Sometimes I wonder why I joined the paper in the first place," she continued, passing the wooden saltshaker without taking her eyes off her mother. "It's just so much work."
Wait a minute…
"It's been a good experience, though, don't you think?" her mother asked helpfully, spearing a noodle with her fork.
Elizabeth nodded emphatically, her wet hair slipping into her face before she had the chance to brush it back into the loose bun she had constructed. "Oh, definitely. I've learned so much about stuff I never thought I'd have to use – I know Pagemaker like the back of my hand, and I've never even used it before being an editor."
Jeff frowned. So far, none of the conversation had been directed at him, which was highly unusual. Perhaps he had been too hasty in his judgment – maybe she was awarding him the silent treatment. Time for the sure-fire test.
"Besides, you're always saying how you've met so many wonderful kids because of the paper." If that didn't work, nothing would – his daughter adored all of her five hundred friends, all of whom, he was sure, had at one point or another been over at his house to eat his food.
"Mm-hmm," she agreed, taking a sip of her water. "Yeah – under normal circumstances, I never would have hung out with Ryan or Brendan or Jeff, and yet I manage to spend twenty hours a month with them in the office."
Jeff smiled to himself as his wife continued the conversation. Elizabeth was talking to him. Crisis averted.
Maybe he was going to be all right.
"It's kind of funny, though," his daughter continued musing, poking her fork at the ground beef that had spilled out from the neat layers of pasta and cheese. "I've met so many people this year alone that I never would have really hung out with before. And yet we've been in the same classes, or we've had lockers in the same part of the hallway, or we're involved in the same clubs and whatnot. So many people that I didn't even know existed before this year, as terrible as that sounds."
"Oh?" Her mother asked, raising her eyebrows as she took a small sip of her water. Her green eyes bore into her daughter's dark blue ones, and the message was clear: Now. "Like who?"
Jeff chewed away happily, content to participate in this conversation merely as an onlooker. He was off the hook, and he wasn't going to spoil it.
"Rose, for one thing." Elizabeth played with her fork, almost done with her small portion of dinner, and reached for a roll. "She's a sophomore this year, and she's the only editor that isn't a senior. I never would have known her otherwise because I just don't hang out with the underclassmen or have any classes with them, but she is such a great person. She's smart, she's sweet, she's funny, she's got great taste, and she's a phenomenal writer." She shook her head. "Wow, I'm so glad I got the chance to know her."
"She's the girl with the bobbed hair, right?" her mother asked, tapping her unpolished nails on her glass.
"Yup," Elizabeth nodded.
"Who else?"
"Well, Charlie, for one thing," she replied. "He's Syd's boyfriend, and he's got to be the nicest guy alive. His last name's Bucheit, so we call him Charlie Bucket."
Her mother laughed, and even her father smiled.
"He's a junior, though, and the only reason I got to know him was because Syd would sometimes invite him over when we were at her house."
"He's a nice boy," her mother agreed. "I remember when he came over with her last week."
Elizabeth laughed, finishing off her roll. "You mean when Syd baked oatmeal cinnamon cookies for all of us? Yeah, that was nice of them. She was just bored and made them for all of us – she and Charlie dropped some off for Sonny, Bren, and Jason, too."
"Jason," her mother repeated, furrowing her brows. "That's right – you know, honey, come to think of it, I don't recall hearing his name before now, either."
Jeff's lips pursed into a thin line as he chewed. He didn't like the direction this seemingly harmless conversation had suddenly taken. It was dangerous territory, and he was only too certain he'd slip somewhere along the way.
"You didn't," Elizabeth answered simply, trying to keep her voice normal and the conversation casual. She didn't even bother to glance at her father, instead keeping her eyes on her mother. "I didn't meet him before this year, either."
"Really?" Caroline inquired, her voice carrying just the right amount of surprise.
Her daughter nodded, taking in her last mouthful and setting the fork back on the empty plate. "Yeah. It's kinda strange considering that he and Sonny have been best friends since they were little."
"And you've never seen him when you and Sonny were together?"
Elizabeth considered the question a moment before answering. "Well, whenever Sonny came over and hung out with us, it was just us girls and a couple of the boyfriends. And when I hung out with Sonny, like over the weekend or something, it was usually just him and Brendan or Bobby or something. And whenever we went to a party – or when he threw one – there were just so many people there that I may have seen Jason a couple of times, but I never talked to him."
Her mother took a minute to think over the new information. "So for all intents and purposes, you just met him this year?"
She nodded. "Yeah, pretty much." Jeff was frowning darkly at his glass of water, and looked up when he heard Elizabeth laugh. "It was actually pretty funny – the way we met, I mean. I was standing around with Sydney and Lexi and one of their friends – his name's Johnny and he's a junior – was horsing around, and I think he tickled Lex or something, because she bumped into me and I fell on the floor." She was giggling now, shaking her head as she recounted the story. "It was so random – all of a sudden, Jason was behind me and he pushed the others away and helped me up and picked up my books, and then he walked away with one of his friends. But we kinda started talking a bit more after that, and I'd see him all the time with Sonny. To be honest, I think Sonny and Bren shang hai'd me into that, but that's okay. He's just a really nice guy. A gentleman, I'd have to say."
She took another sip of her water, her eyes wandering around the room in an effort not to meet her father's. She hoped he'd at least trust her when she said that Jason was a gentleman, because he was. And there was no need to bring up their Clover trip where he'd 'attacked her', as he put it, in the thicket. He was a gentleman regardless.
"He seems like a nice boy," her mother agreed, leaning back in her chair. "Very polite, very charming. Do you have any classes with him?" She knew the answer to her questions, but played along and asked them anyway.
Elizabeth nodded, knowing that hearing that Jason was an honor student as well would improve his standing in her father's eyes. "Yeah – we have AP Calc together this semester and had AP Psych together last semester."
"What other things does he do?" her mother inquired for Jeff's benefit. Her husband had ridiculously high standards for himself and his own friends, and those standards were only all the more lofty when it came to the young men that wanted to spend time with his daughters. Sarah's boyfriend, a genial man by the name of Clint, went through several rigorous tests of character before Jeff warmed up to him. The two had been together since their senior year of high school despite the fact that he was studying in Wisconsin and Sarah was at Johns Hopkins.
"Well, he's part of the National Honor Society, he used to be a junior class rep in Student Council last year, he plays clarinet, and he's the co-captain of the boys' cross country team."
"They just won second overall downstate, didn't they?" Elizabeth was almost unable to conceal her grin when her father's voice cut into the Jason-centered conversation. This was definitely a good sign.
"Yup. And Jason won first in the individual 1600 relay."
Her father's eyebrows shot up and he resumed poking at his near-empty plate in an attempt not to show how impressed he was. But both Elizabeth and her mother knew better.
"So," he began slowly, finally setting his fork down. "About this boy…"
"He has a name, Dad," Elizabeth replied sweetly, sitting back in her chair and folding her legs underneath her. "The least you could do is use it."
Jeff rolled his eyes but obliged, not wanting to start yet another fight. Because if he did, one thing was for sure: Caroline would not hesitate to put him on the couch this time. "Fine – Jason. Now, what other classes is Jason in?"
"AP Calculus, AP Psychology, Journalism, Marketing, and AP Physics," Elizabeth ticked off, smirking at the memory of Jason's sex fun AP Physics shirt.
"Who are his friends? Do I know any of them?"
"Duh, Dad – like I said, him and Sonny grew up together."
"Does he drink?"
"Dad!"
"What? Does he?"
"No! Of course not – he's a runner."
"Drugs?"
"Jeff-"
"No, Dad."
Jeff was about to launch into another round of questions when the phone rang. He noticed Elizabeth and his wife exchange some sort of secret glance before Elizabeth announced, "I'll get it!" and typical to the way of teenage daughters, ran off to destroy lamps and run over grandmothers on her way to the ringing telephone.
As soon as Elizabeth had left the room, Caroline turned a displeased eye on her husband.
"What?" he exclaimed helplessly. "What have I done now?"
She just shook her head at him. "Sometimes. Jeff, I just don't understand you." Before he could get out a word in protest of the fact that his daughter was deliberately growing up and that he didn't recall giving anyone permission to grow up, Caroline effectively silenced him. "I don't want to hear it, Jeff. Last night, you were totally out of line, and you're not doing much better right now."
"Last night?" he exclaimed. "I thought we were past last night!"
She rolled her emerald eyes at him, her lips twisting into a sour expression. "You're pushing it, buddy, when you go all Spanish Inquisition on her. Did you not expect that one day, Elizabeth would find some nice boy that she'd want to spend time with? Sarah did, and you weren't nearly as bad with her. Sure, you practically gave Clint a heart attack on numerous occasions, but you never railed against Sarah."
"That was different –"
"Why?" his wife inquired. "Because she's Sarah? Because she's the oldest? Is that it?"
"No," Jeff denied vehemently, so vehemently that Caroline knew she had guessed right.
"Then what, Jeff?" she asked, deciding to humor him. "Why in the world are you so worked up over this?"
"What I can't believe is that you're not!" her husband exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "You're just sitting there, perfectly willing to give up our daughter to some strange boy, and not even thinking of what we should be doing – checking out all girls' private schools called Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow or something."
Caroline had to laugh at that, knowing that Jeff wasn't serious but giving in to his sometimes-humorous tendency to exaggerate, just like when he had refused to call Jason anything but "the enemy". The man had even come home after that disastrous car ride and searched for his commander hat and chipmunk rifle, which she had hidden years ago because it gave him war nightmares.
"Honey, I love you, but you're crazy."
She rose from the table and stacked up the dishes before carrying them into the kitchen. Jeff twisted in his chair to watch her retreating form.
"You think I'm overreacting, don't you?"
Knowing he couldn't see her expression, Caroline rolled her eyes as she set the plates in the sink. "No, dear, of course not. Your concerns are completely legitimate."
"Thank – wait a minute. Stop patronizing me." He was pouting now, like a child, and his light blonde hair had fallen across his forehead.
Unable to wipe the smirk from her face, Caroline patted his arm soothingly as she took up her chair next to him again. "Wouldn't dream of it, darling."
He sulked in the cushioned seat, and she had to make a conscious effort to control her laughter. It was all fun and games right now, but if she laughed at him, he'd really get his panties in a twist.
With a sigh, Caroline picked up her paper napkin and twisted it in her fingers, twining it through her long digits. She might as well start now, without Elizabeth, who could barely be heard from the other room as she chattered away on the telephone.
"Do you want to talk about it, honey?"
His light blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Not if you're going to patronize me."
She smiled warmly at him and nodded once. "All right. I won't. So go ahead – why are you so upset over this? It's completely natural, dear. Don't you remember yourself at their age?"
Jeff sank his head into his hands. "Of course I do," he replied, his voice sounding as if it was being filtered through sandpaper. "And it's precisely because of that memory that I'm convinced that there's no such thing as a nice teenage boy."
"Oh, Jeff," Caroline scoffed. "If ever there was a nice teenage boy, Jason is it. He's an honor roll student, a state conference runner, he's been volunteering at the hospital since he was ten, and remember last summer? He saved that dog from the burning train car."
"Boxcar," Jeff corrected her even though it was irrelevant. "Interesting word choice, though – if ever there was a phrase to describe boys his age, 'burning train' is it."
"Jeff, I'm warning you, either you get serious or-"
"Fine, fine," he sputtered, flattening his palms against the table. "I don't want her to mess up the rest of the school year or do something else she regrets just because she's too wrapped up with some boy." His wife opened her mouth to interject, but he pushed ahead. "I don't want her grades to slip because of this – we've never had to worry about her before when it came to school, but she could very easily be distracted from what's important if she spends too much time with Jason. And what if she misses out on doing some of the things she's wanted to do – during school and over the summer, even – because she's too busy with him? She's always classes over the summer for art and photography – what if, because of spending too much time with Jason, she decides that she doesn't want to anymore? What about her music, and the scholarship she's been working for over the last four years? What about all of that? "
Caroline waited patiently until he had finished his almost incoherent rambling before gently closing her hand over his. "I understand what you're saying, Jeff, but you're missing a very important point. I'd be worried, too, if Jason wasn't the person he is. He's a smart, friendly, understanding, and considerate boy, and I honestly don't think you have any cause for worry when it comes to them."
"What? There is always a cause for worry when there's a boy sniffing around one of my daugh-"
"He's not just any boy, Jeff," she spoke above his ranting. "He shares the same interests that Elizabeth does. He's obviously very serious about school, just like our daughter, and after graduation, you can bet that he's not just going to flip burgers down the block. He's focused and he's driven, the two words you've always used to describe Elizabeth. College is in his future just like it's in hers. And besides school alone, they have more in common. He understands her commitment to the paper, obviously, because he made a similar one to the cross-country team. Remember back when the kids were babies?"
Her voice was softer now as she remembered the days when Sarah and Elizabeth, both wearing Winnie the Pooh or the Cabbage Patch Kids or the animated fad of the week with the red leather tap shoes they insisted on wearing everywhere. "We always talked about how, when they grew older, we'd try to get them to join as many activities and clubs as we could. Not only for the extra learning experience and the chance to meet new people, but the fact that kids who are involved in those sorts of activities have less idle time in which to use drugs or drink or make other bad decisions. Fortunately, neither of our daughters have. Both did well in school, just like Jason does. Both were members of one club or another to which they devoted a good chunk of time, just like Jason does with his track team. And both our daughters play musical instruments, just like Jason does."
She tapped her fingers over his hand and he had little choice but to admit she was right.
"They share the same interests, Jeff, and I honestly don't see how Jason would lead her away from all of the things she loves. He understands that because he's as active as she is, if not more so. And thankfully, because of running, he doesn't drink or do anything that we've forbidden our girls to. And besides," she quirked an eyebrow at Jeff and his weakening resolve before continuing. "Don't we believe that Elizabeth has enough self-esteem and personal integrity to do the things she wants to do despite what other people think she should? I know I do."
She was indirectly referring to Jeff's pressuring their youngest to attend Johns Hopkins, but that was a battle for another day. For now, she'd be happy if he just admitted there was nothing wrong with her and Jason spending time together, and if he'd lay off the hysterics whenever the boy was in the vicinity.
Jeff sighed heavily, and the set of his shoulders told her she'd won. "You're right," he admitted. "But I also think you're underestimating peer pressure. I just don't want Elizabeth to get hurt by this – any of it."
Caroline's brows pulled into a deep V. "What do you mean?"
"College is a few months away," Jeff explained, cupping his chin in his hand as he looked at his wife. "Who knows where all these kids are going? Who knows if Elizabeth and Brenda will even stay friends, or Elizabeth and Sonny? Who can tell? No one. I don't want her to get too involved only to have to let go in a few months."
"Isn't that part of life, though, Jeff?" Caroline asked softly. "Meeting people and then letting them go?"
He didn't reply, choosing instead to stare into the living room ahead of them.
"Remember back when the girls were young and they wanted a dog? You told them that a dog wouldn't like our house, but the real reason was that you didn't want them to have to deal with the death of a pet. I know that's because Minnie died when you were fifteen, and you didn't want the girls to go through that. And then finally, we got them a bunch of goldfish, and they all died after a month. Sure, it was easier on the girls because they weren't as personally attached to the fish as they would have been to a dog, or as you were to Minnie, but regardless, death and loss is a natural part of life. We can't protect them from it – they can deal with it, Jeff."
"Elizabeth's never had to deal with that before," her husband pointed out. "Everyone she loves is with her. She didn't have that many friends back in Colorado because there just weren't very many kids in our neighborhood, so fortunately, the move wasn't that bad. But what if she really gets attached to Jason? Long distance relationships usually don't work, and I don't want her to have to go through that. Not every couple is like Sarah and Clint."
Caroline sighed. "So you're more prepared to write her and Jason off and protest this whole thing than giving them the benefit of a doubt and letting them explore their relationship, if it even becomes a relationship? Don't you think you're being a bit rash?"
"No."
"Well, I do. It's up to her and Jason if they want to be together. It's up to them if they want to break it off before college – again, assuming there is an it – or if they want to stay together. We can always give her advice, honey, but this isn't our call."
She could tell by the defeated look in his eyes that he accepted her arguments, but Jeff had more to say.
"What if she gets in trouble like…her cousin?" Jeff's voice was hushed now. The topic of Elizabeth's cousin in Pennsylvania was somewhat taboo. Leslie had gotten pregnant during her senior year of high school, and the news sent shockwaves through the entire family. It didn't matter that the father of the baby was her boyfriend of three years. It didn't matter that he was interned at a business firm and had a scholarship for college. It didn't matter that he was willing to help support his child and Leslie. Eventually, both families had agreed on adoption, and that was that. The incident was brushed under the rug and Leslie went on to college and was just beginning her first year of graduate school.
Caroline didn't know what she could say to Jeff's question, so she remained silent for a long moment. Whereas his other gripes with the boy had been harmless in nature, she knew this one was genuine. And it wasn't even about Jason anymore – it was a concern that most parents had for their adolescent children.
She exhaled deeply and shrugged. "We've taught them well, Jeff. Sarah and Elizabeth both. They're good kids, and I guess that's good enough. We've done all we can, and I don't think we could have done any more, or that we even need to do any more. They're smart and they're responsible, and I really don't know what else to say to make you feel better."
He shrugged. "That's okay. It was unfair of me – I didn't expect you to have an answer. You're right, though. Every parent wonders the same thing. It's not personal or meant as an affront to either of them." He slapped the table with his palms. "Well, I've exceeded my quota for depression in one day. Let's talk about something else."
Caroline quirked a smile at him. "It'll give us an excuse to see Alan and Monica more regularly." She laughed when her husband rolled his eyes – he wasn't too fond of Alan after his comment about being in-laws. "We've never had a chance to sit with them and talk like we used to before we went to Mercy."
Jeff nodded. "I do miss them. And at least we know the parents."
His wife pumped her head enthusiastically – now they were getting somewhere. "Exactly. And we know they're nice people."
"Actually," Jeff smirked. "I would have preferred it if they weren't so nice. I mean, if she was a professional wrestler and he was a prison guard, I wouldn't be so worried when Elizabeth went over to their house or something."
Caroline laughed and closed her fingers over his hand. She was rewarded with a soft squeeze, and it seemed as if Jeff Webber had been roused from the anti-Jason funk that had enveloped him for the last day.
Elizabeth strolled back into the dining room, undoing her bun and combing her fingers through the wet curls.
"Hey," her mother smiled at her, not removing her hands from her husband's. "What was that about?"
"Nothing," Elizabeth replied, picking up two water glasses from the table and moving toward the kitchen. "It was Johnny. He wanted to know if I would do something for the talent show with him and Luke."
Her mother grabbed the remaining glass and followed her daughter into the kitchen.
"Talent show?" Jeff asked, his eyes lighting up. "I took part in a talent show back in high school. I still remember it – I played the accordion. That was what was considered hip back in the day. Not like that music you people play now – a mix between hard rock and extra loud. No, sir, in our day, we played accordions. And I was the king…"
Elizabeth and Caroline both snickered as they placed the glasses in the sink. Their backs turned to Jeff, who was still waxing on about his accordion playing skills, Elizabeth leaned into her mother and whispered softly.
"How'd it go?"
Caroline's smile was quick and bright. "Worked like a charm."
