When I got inside the house, Calla was leaning over the banister, reciting the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet. That was normal.
What she was wearing was not.
"You like?" Calla asked, spinning around. She was wearing black lace-up boots (that had belonged to Mother in 1921), very, very, VERY short shorts (that had NOT belonged to Mother in 1921), and my gold and black robe from Korea.
"Calla." I shook my head. "What am I going to do with you?"
She clomped down the stairs. "You're going to take me outside to meet my father."
"How'd you know he was here?
"No one in this family owns any type of Chevy, if you don't count the '55 model Dad says will work 'any day now'." She jumped off the final step and pranced out into the porch. I followed, shaking my head.
Calla flung open the door. Hawkeye was trying to put back up our "Velkommen" sign by banging a nail into it with a stick.
"It, uh, fell out," he said sheepishly.
"It does every day," Calla said. "Grandma nearly went ballistic when I slammed the door yesterday."
"Well." I wrung my hands. "Calla, this is Hawkeye. Hawkeye, Calla."
"Pleased to meet you, my fair lady," Hawkeye said in a fake British accent.
"Chaaaaaaaaaahmed." She curtsied.
"All right, now that you have the sarcasm out of the way..." I prompted.
There was silence as the two sized each other up. Calla was only three inches shorter than Hawkeye.
"It's true," Calla said. "We do look alike."
Hawkeye nodded. "You really are my daughter."
"You doubted?"
And, to my absolute delight, they hugged.
I sat down on the steps and took a deep breath. My daughter and my husband were finally together.
Husband?
Ex-husband.
"Well," said Hawkeye, "let's go meet Julia Waters."
I opened the door, and the three of us filed inside.
Mother was standing by the television set, dusting. (Dusting what, I don't know. We had cleaned the place, as Hawkeye would say, "within an inch of its life.")
"Hello," said Mother. She eyed Hawkeye. "You must be Benjamin."
"If I'm not, I don't know who is."
"I want you to know I do not approve of this," Mother said. "You've just come here to disturb our life."
"It wasn't my idea," Hawkeye said through gritted teeth. "And you don't have to like it."
Eyes widening,Mother turned to me. "This was YOUR idea?"
"Yes it was," I told her.
"Jaclyn Waters, you are ruining your life."
And with that, she stormed out of the living room.
"What got shoved up her-" Callastarted to say, but stopped as Dad came into the room.
"Great," Hawkeye whispered to me. "I'm not going to come out of here with my head attached. You can put 'King Louis' on my tombstone. Wanna be Marie Antoinette?"
"Hawkeye!" I jabbed him in the ribs.
"So this is Hawkeye," Dad said. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Bernard Walters."
Dad extended his hand, and Hawkeye shook it.
Just as Dad opened his mouth to say something, the door to the porch opened and in came...
Stockton's Harmony Homemakers Club.
Myrtle Lundin, Marlys Larson, Helga Larsen, Kath Nelson, Marge Erickson,Ida Lundquist, Emma Finch, and Alice Halquist bustled in.
"Jaclyn, how are you doing today?" Marge asked.
"Very well," I said uncomfortably as I shoved Calla behind my back. If the Harmony Homemakers saw what she was wearing, they would have multiple heart failures in our living room.
"And who is this handsome young man?" Myrtle inquired, looking at Hawkeye.
"Ben Pierce," he replied.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh," they said collectively, and the room's tone seemed to completely change.
"We'd better go see how Julie is doing."
"Did you bring the lemon cake recipe, Marlys?"
"Yes, that was wonderful when you made it for Tabor's potluck."
"Did you see what Bethene was wearing this Sunday?"
In three seconds, they'd cleared out to the kitchen, and I let Calla loose.
"What did they think I was going to do, get down on one knee and propose?" asked Hawkeye as he burst out laughing.
"No one knows what happens in the Harmony Homemaker's minds," Calla intoned. "It's going to be what my science competition project is about."
A/N: Hardly any of the Harmony Homemaker bits are made up.
I'm serious.