Second Chances

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

        “I’m going to ignore the man outside that was sitting a bit too close to you. I will not let you spoil my happy mood,” I heard Jason announce once I walked inside. “Instead, you’re going to say hello to my parents who have been gracious enough to want to see you before the big charity dinner. They are in the living room. Do not be rude.” With that final warning, he turned on his heel to the kitchen with Calpurnia.

        I peeked my head in the living room to see Mr. and Mrs. Welsh sit on our couch in all of their glory.

        “Hi,” I greeted with a timid smile. They shifted their bodies to face me.

        Mrs. Welsh glared at me from top to bottom. Her expression was cold and calculating. “So you’re still here,” she said.

        “Remember dear,” her husband said, soothingly while rubbing her palms, “We promised to give her a chance. Just because she came from Georgia doesn’t mean she is absolute trash.” I took back my earlier comments concerning them being pleasant.

        “Don’t just stand there, come over here and help us with the charity,” demanded Mrs. Welsh. She had her free hand fiddling with the pearl necklace resting on her chest.

        I realized how sloppy I looked compared to her. She was wearing a navy blue pinstripe skirt with a loose, white blouse. Her dirty blonde hair was in a tight bun that made her face more angular and sharp. I recognized the shoes as one of the many pairs she designed herself. With her husband by her side, they looked like an undefeatable team of super villains.

        I hurried over to them. They had pictures of different decorations and foods. “What is it that you need help with?”

        “Since this is your house,” she said, disdainfully, “you will be choosing the decorations and the food. You have to make sure that they are all prepared in time for the dinner. We need these guests to be happy if we want to raise money for that charity. What charity are we raising money for this time?”

        Mr. Welsh stared at her in concentration for a minute. “I think this one is over the baby seals or is it the African babies.”

        “I hope it isn’t the African babies, again,” Mrs. Welsh sighed. “They sucked enough money from us last year, when we had a charity dinner for them. Remember the media spectacle they created over their money.”

        “Ah yes, I remember why I stopped golfing with their president, Bob Millington. He was a cheater anyways,” informed Mr. Welsh.

        I bent over to grab the decoration and food pictures, anxious to get out of there. “Well, I’ll just go look at these in my room.”

        Mrs. Welsh grabbed my wrist. For an old woman, she had a strong grip. “Do you honestly believe we are going to let some hillbilly from Georgia have total control over something as important as this?” I gritted my teeth trying my absolute hardest not to say anything I would regret later. “You just sit you big butt down.”

        “Fine, what would you like to talk about first?”

        “Ugh, do you ever stop talking?” complained Mrs. Welsh. “Cal, Calpurnia, bring me some lemonade before this woman talks my ears off.” Calpurnia scurried in here with a glass and a pitcher of lemonade.

        As I Mrs. Welsh continued to complain about my talking, I remembered that I never sat down and talked to Jason’s parents. We never had a conversation before today. I remembered when I first started dating Jason, that it was weird his parents were avoiding me. He later reassured me by saying they were just busy people who barely had enough time for each other. I dropped the matter and never thought about it until tonight.