CHAPTER 33

I had just finished when Sara walked in from the kitchen with a bowl of chips and salsa. "Be careful, John—the salsa is hot. Your mom and I tried it in the kitchen. I'll be right back with the drinks. Your mom is making a pot roast and I'm helping her."

"That's great. I love her pot roast."

"I'm glad," she said as she kissed me again before turning away.

Dad followed her with his eyes. "I like her, John. Daisy was drop dead beautiful on the outside, but she was rotten as hell on the inside. Sara is very attractive on the outside even though she's no Daisy, but her best is inside her…who and what she is. I think you'll be very happy. Can we expect grandkids in the future?"

"As soon as humanly possible, if I have anything to say about it." I smiled broadly as Sara reappeared carrying two big glasses filled with PBR—Pabst Blue Ribbon--the beer of my youth and Dad's favorite, too.

She noticed our huge grins. "What? Oh, I get it, talking about me, were you?"

I rose to take the beer she offered, sweeping her into my arms for a long deep kiss. "Guilty as charged," I whispered just loud enough for Dad to hear. Sara laughed then kissed my cheek as she walked back out to help Mom. Dad and I spent the afternoon watching college football. Dinner was served at six exactly, following a family tradition that had existed as far back as I could remember.

The pot roast was as delicious as I remembered. So were the mashed potatoes and homemade gravy. In fact, the entire meal was a smashing success. It was clear that my parents loved my fiancée and she loved them, too. We left around nine and were in the car for about five minutes when I asked, "What was all that laughing about earlier?"

Sara smiled as she explained. "Your mom guessed that there was a little bit more to how we got together than your explanation so I told her. Once she began to laugh I couldn't help but join her. It really was funny, you know."

I reached for Sara's hand and brought it to my lips. "I'm just glad you got along with my folks."

"I think your mom is just great. Your dad is a bit more reserved, but he seemed to like me, too."

"He does. He told me that while you're obviously very attractive on the outside what you are inside is even better. I agree completely. He also asked if grandkids were in the immediate future. I told him they were if I had anything to say about it. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind? That's what I've been praying for. We can start planning the wedding tomorrow when we see Mom and Cara." We talked all the way home about what kind of wedding and when. Turns out Sara didn't care if it was big or small just so long as it was soon. Once again, we agreed completely.

After a long and exhausting night making love we slept in and grabbed a couple of bacon and egg sandwiches on a hard roll from the deli in the village. We sat on a bench in the park that abutted the harbor, coffee on the path between our feet as we ate. Sara was sitting as close as humanly possible; any closer and we'd be arrested for having sex in public. It was an unusually cool day, but fair with a strong breeze so I appreciated the closeness of her body.

She must have read my mind because she paused for a moment to whisper, "Sorry, but that will have to wait until later. I think I'll shave you again in the shower and, to be fair, I think you should do it to me, too. I've always loved the soft smooth texture of where I've shaved and I think it will be even better if I'm completely naked there. I'm getting wet just imagining your tongue sliding over me." Sara may have been getting wet, but all this talk was having an effect on me, too. I had finished eating five minutes before I was able to stand and walk without embarrassment.

We left around 2:00 that afternoon, going in the right direction for a change, south on Sunken Meadow Parkway to the Expressway east to Coram where Sara's mom had moved after her mother had sold her house. Even though much of Long Island had become thoroughly suburban over the last few decades, Coram remained mostly rural. It was far enough from New York City that few people wanted to commute and there was no nearby rail station. There were many more people living there than twenty years ago, but it was still much fewer than in nearby towns like Selden and Centereach.

Sara gave me directions and forty minutes later I pulled into the drive—barely. The house was tiny with only two bedrooms and a single bathroom and no garage. Cara's car was right behind what I assumed was her mother's so I pulled up as closely as possible behind hers. Sara leaned over to kiss me and reminded me not to be nervous. I wasn't, not at all. I opened the door for Sara then reached into the back seat for the small paper bag with gifts for her mom and sister.

The house was a Cape Cod with the second floor unfinished. We walked straight into the living room with an eat-in kitchen off to the right. Cara greeted us with hugs and kisses and then I met their mom. "Nice to meet you at last, Mrs. Sinclair, although I feel that I know you well through Carefirst, and now Sara." I helped Sara out of her coat and she put her gloves into the pocket. That's when Cara saw the ring.

"OH. MY. GOD! You did it Sara! John actually proposed! I don't believe it!" I was quickly forgotten as both women began to examine Sara's ring and then her bracelet and other jewelry. I put our coats on a chair while they "oohed" and "aahed" over everything.

Finally, Sara's mother came over to hug me. "I apologize for ignoring you, John. It's not every day that my daughter becomes engaged. I also feel that I know you very well and…please…call me Natalie. Cara, would you please put the coats in your old bedroom? May I get you something to drink?"

"Thanks, Coke or Pepsi would be great or ginger ale if you don't have either of them."

"Pepsi, it is then. Sara, why don't you help me?" I found myself alone for a minute so I looked around. The room was sparsely furnished and the furnishings were obviously old, but they showed signs of excellent care and the room was as neat and as clean as my house was after the cleaners had spent half the day working and scrubbing. Mostly, I was pleased to see a bookcase filled with books, some of which obviously dated back to when Cara and Sara were still in school. There were more than a dozen of the Nancy Drew series and others geared to young girls. In contrast, the TV was an older model with a cathode ray tube instead of a newer flat screen. Clearly, reading was more important here than wasting time watching the idiot tube.