Moments


Meet the Carters


As soon as they got comfortable, or at least as comfortable as one can in commercial airline seats for a long transatlantic flight, Jack leaned over and asked her, "So, how did I do?"

"Well…"

~A~

A few days ago…

"Okay, what's the verdict? Spill," Peggy ordered quietly, as soon as her sister-in-law Sylvia entered the kitchen.

This was the first time that the two of them could be alone. Sylvia's father, her father, her brother Benji, and Jack were fiddling with her father's new radio in the front room, and her mother was occupied with the baby – allegedly trying to put Peggy's niece asleep but judging by the coos and giggles coming down the hall that was going to take a while.

And so was the answer to her query, judging by Sylvia's exaggerated 'thoughtful' expression.

After pouring herself a glass of lemonade and taking a long sip, her sister-in-law finally mused, "Well… you certainly have a type."

"A what now?" Peggy blurted, as this was so not what she was expecting.

"Yeah, tall, blond and pretty," she replied, her hazel green eyes twinkling with mischief. They only seemed to twinkle all the more as she added with even more faux thoughtfulness, "It's a bit creepy though. He doesn't look like Fred so much as he kind of looks like Michael."

As soon as she computed that last bit, Peggy found herself choking on her own sip of lemonade. And wishing for something stronger. Brain bleach maybe.

Her expression must have been priceless, because Sylvia was struggling greatly not to laugh outright in her face, while she rubbed and patted her back soothingly and half-apologetically asked, "Oh? Did I just ruin your wedding night?"

(This was the problem with her brother marrying the girl next door – she could be more like a sister than one could want in an in-law at times.)

When Peggy quit coughing, Sylvia continued more seriously, "On a more pleasant note, I think he's the keeper. I have never seen you this happy since…well, I suppose, since the war started."

Peggy thought back over the years, and she had to agree. Smiling softly, she admitted, "I think so."

Sylvia eyed her for a moment, assessing the truth of that statement, and when she seemed to be satisfied, she gave her a decisive nod and declared, "Good. Because if you try to bail on this one, for whatever noble or ignoble cause, I will chase you down and hogtie you to the altar until you say 'I do'. I am not going to spend another six months listening to your mother bemoan yet another Great Escape."

~A~

The next day…

"Come away from the window, dear, and sit with me," her mother ordered, patting the seat on the sofa next to her. "The boys will be back before you know it."

Peggy sighed and turned from the window. It's not that she was anxious about being separated from her fiancé, nor was it at the fact that he was going to be on his own with her father and older brother. No, she was jealous to tell the truth. They were going off to watch the Oxford-Cambridge boxing match, and the only reason she was not downright furious at Jack for leaving her alone with her mother was because he promised to place a bet of her pocket money on the Cambridge contestant, even though he was rooting for Oxford.

What she was anxious about was having the inevitable conversation with her mother about her opinion on Jack. She was almost thirty, had been an intelligence operative in a war, and had taken on countless deadly enemies of democracy and freedom since then, and she was still terrified of her mother and needing of her approval. Peggy was afraid that she would never grow out of that.

Accepting that she could no longer avoid this conversation, she sat down next to her mother and finally bit the bullet, asking, "So what do you think?"

Amanda Carter gave her question considerable thought, pausing in her knitting even, before answering circumspectly, "Well, he's certainly personable…"

Peggy bit her lip, knowing that tone of voice all too well, and though she was afraid of the answer, she put her big girl panties on and prompted hesitantly, "But?"

With a great big disappointed sigh, her mother complained, "He's American."

Unladylike laughter burbled up, escaping her lips in a half-choked snort, she was so surprised by her mother's reply. When she finally regained her composure, she dryly pointed out, "Look who's talking, Mum."

Her mother waved her hand dismissively, "I know, but this is different. He's not staying here like your father did. Can't you two get transferred to the embassy here or something?"

She smiled gently, touched that her mother missed her so much and that this was the only fault she had found in her chosen life partner. "That's not in the cards right now, but maybe someday."

Reaching over and patting her hand, her mother declared, "I can accept that and hope for the best, dear."

When her mother drew away, Peggy thought that would be the end of it, but then her mother's face brightened as she gushed: "And just think! You two will make such pretty and handsome babies!"

Inwardly Peggy groaned.

~A~

Later that evening…

From her seat by the fire, Peggy watched Jack stumble into her parents' house and struggle to hang his hat and scarf on the coat-rack. Both fell to floor.

"Good lord! What did you guys do to him?" she hissed accusingly to her father and brother as they filed into the house behind Jack.

Thankfully, her mother had already gone to bed, or she might have recanted her approval of Jack being the father of her grandbabies.

Before they could defend themselves, Jack slurred in a hushed stage-whisper, "Shweetheart, I now know 'ow ya'can drink the boys-sunder - under - table. Yerr fam'ly has quiiite the conshi-too-shun."

And after that declaration, he then proceeded to throw his arm over her shoulder to tug her roughly to him and announce in her ear, "I'm goin' to bed now." And then sloppily kissing her on the cheek, he concluded, "G'night, Marge."

She glared at brother, who was doing a poor job of hiding his gleeful smirk at Jack's behavior and/or at Jack's favorite name for her, and ordered with false sweetness, "Benji darling, do make sure he gets there in one piece. Will you?"

Being a smart man, her brother, he quickly agreed saying, "Sure thing, Peg-leg," but he continued to grin, as he took Jack out of her hands to guide him up the stairs to his room, enjoying himself far too much.

In order to distract her from her worry-induced wrath, her father poured her drink from the decanter and observed, "I have to admit – I was surprised to hear that your new young man was the same coworker who used to give you such a hard time at the office."

"Used to?" Peggy snorted.

At this, her father arched an eyebrow, advising dryly, "Don't quit your day job for sales, dear."

She grinned, "Not a chance," and then more somberly, because she knew that her father wanted more for her than good genetics and a healthy bank account, she confessed, "I'm a strong-minded woman, and he keeps me in check."

Her father said nothing in reply to this, knowing her well enough to let her fidget and think in peace while she composed her defense. After a few minutes, she quietly shared, "I know I won't be an easy person to live with and that I need someone who won't fold when the going gets tough. Jack's proven that to me."

From behind her, her brother interjected, "And to us as well, believe it or not."

Peggy didn't. For that would have been too easy. Arching her own eyebrow, she scoffed, "Oh really? What did you do? Give him the prerequisite 'Don't-break-her-heart-or-else' speech?"

"Yep," Benjamin chortled, as he sauntered over to the other end of her sofa. Plopping down, he reported, "And he took it like a champ. Didn't do more than blanch a little and then declared and I quote: 'Well, thank you for explaining the consequences to me so thoroughly. I will have to remember that speech for when Marge and I have our own daughter one day. I don't think it is legal for me to even insinuate some of those things in my interrogation sessions'."

"Yes, and your brother was so impressed by this that, not only did he remember your young man's speech verbatim, he decided to reward him and get him schnockered to the gills," her father was quick to point out.

In true Julius Caesar-to-Brutus fashion, Benji protested, "Oh ho! It was just me was it?"

~A~

Present day…

"Well…you and that silver tongue of yours certainly charmed the pants off my mother," she finally answered.

Jack made a startled choking sound next to her, and while she patted his back he gasped out, chidingly, "Marge, please … refrain from using the words … 'tongue' and 'pants off' … in the same sentence as my … future mother-in-law."

Peggy grinned (and blushed), "Duly noted."

After the stewardess kindly supplied him with some water, Peggy resumed their conversation, noting, "Even my father was impressed, how did you manage that?"

Jack shrugged, before slyly asserting, "Oh, I just told him that if I was willing to take bullets for Howard Stark just to keep you from getting hurt, imagine what else I would be willing to do."

'Yep, if brother-dear confirmed his story, then that would do it', she thought to herself. To him, she sighed exasperatedly, "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

Instead of making some teasing retort or some snark about Howard, Jack shifted in his seat to interlace his fingers with hers, fixed her with his most sincerest of gazes, the kind that let her see into the very depths of his soul, and then declared with devout earnestness:

"No, I will never let you go."