In-Laws

    She was heard before she was seen.  Consequently the bridesmaids, brothers of the bride and the bride disappeared like ninja into the inky blackness of a moonless night.  Two intrepid souls remained to face the onslaught of my sister’s soon to be mother-in law, my father and my wife.  My father remained mostly because everyone had disappeared before he did and my wife remained because she was intently fitting and altering bridesmaids’ dresses the night before the wedding.

    By the time the soon to be in-law was coming up the walk, everyone was gone, including me.  I had abandoned my lovely wife and father to this woman of …well, of questionable sobriety.  Actually there wasn’t really any question, she had been pretty well lubed at the rehearsal party and it appeared, by voice volume alone, that her consumption of spirits had not really slowed down much in the hour or so since then.  It wasn’t that she was not a nice woman or anything, it was just that she was somewhat, not there I suppose would be a good way to describe her.  Or perhaps she was there, it just wasn’t the ‘there’ that anyone else was.

    Now, she wasn’t completely whacked, just maybe 97% of the time.  Of course I had never seen her the other three percent, but people talk, you know?  She was well meaning, usually, just a bit loud, well really loud, and she had a habit of talking over people.  This is really a nice way of saying she never listened.  When her husband was present she didn’t really say much, nobody did, it wasn’t possible.  She had been one of my younger brother’s third grade teacher, so the family had known her and her family for some time.  Her son and my sister, a couple of years younger than me, had dated for…for a lot of years, I don’t know how many but it was too many, but also not long enough.  However I digress.

    My father, who in all the years I have known him, and it has turned into quite a few now, has never, and I mean never ever so much as uttered a bad word or gossiped about anyone.  He is a truly remarkable nice guy and quite handsome I am told.  Unfortunately I don’t look like him, I look like me, and that is nothing to write home about let me tell you.  Anyway my dad is a nice guy and has never shirked his responsibility as head of the household.  So, bravely he marched to his destiny with the soon to be in-law.  Really it was by default as everyone else was hiding with the efficiency of a chameleon blending into the jungle.  She reached the front door before my father and just came in.  He welcomed her and asked if she was in search of some one.  This turned out to be something of a mistake on his part.

    As she breezed into the house the unmistakable perfume ‘Ode de` Bourbon’ came wafting in with her.  “Oh Jerry,” she exclaimed, “I just had to come by and see if I could be of any help here.  Where is everyone?  Is there annnyyything I can do for you?” 

    I slipped from the den, passed them, and up the stairs, I wanted to be well behind the front lines.  In a sense I felt somewhat guilty, I mean my father was a full grown man very successful in his personal and his professional life.  But I could swear as I snuck by he looked like a cornered stray, desperately looking for a way past the oncoming dogcatcher.  But hey, he was a leader of men he could handle one sloshed 5’ 1” women in heels and a tight dress, tight dress as in too small, couldn’t he?

    “No, no Mitzi I think everyone has it covered here, Jan and the girls have the dresses well in hand and Andrea, my wife, is…is, well I don’t know where she is but I am sure it is important and she will be here any second.”

    I could hear my mother laughing in their bedroom.  I am pretty sure she wasn’t doing anything, let alone anything important.

    Within minutes Mrs. Beaumont had dad across the living room with his back to the couch.  While she was backing him across the room she was making rather suggestive comments.  It was really rather nervy considering there was a house full of people, although you wouldn’t have known it at the time, unless you listened carefully to the giggling.  The sewing machine tempo had steadily increased as my wife attempted to wish the lurid scene unfolding before her away.

    Mrs. Beaumont had my father on the couch on his back and she lay on top of him, his arms frantically signaling for help as his head weaved like a cobra’s in a vain attempt to escape Mitzi’s very red and very messy lips.  The eldest of my younger brothers was with my mom, she sent him to bring me to her.

    I snickered as I passed my father; he kind of looked like a tortoise rolled over on its back, except there were too many arms and legs waving spastically in the air.  As I approached my mom in my parents' bedroom she closed the door and said, “You have got to help your father.”

    “Me?  Why me?  I don’t even like her; I don’t like that entire family.  Come on Mom, you know I don’t like people and crowds and stuff and I was good at the rehearsal dinner and Jan made me promise to be good tomorrow at the wedding, cut me some slack here, send Mark, he is way more sociable than me.”

    “Send Mark?  Well first off Mark only has his learners permit…”

    “Yeah but it’s only a few blocks to their house.”

    “….and second she would eat Mark alive…”

    “Hey wait,” Mark interjected, “I can handle it.”  It was like a little light bulb suddenly went on over his head.

    I looked at Mark and then opened the door and saw my father valiantly fighting Mrs. Beaumont off.

    “…and third you are the eldest and I know you can do this Rick.”

    I looked back at Mark, “You don’t want any of that pal, really”

    My mother, the woman that gave me life, that had nurtured me from the cradle through childhood diseases and numerous broken bones struck me, on my shoulder, hard.

    “Hey!  What the heck?  What was that for?  Sheesh, I was just offering some brotherly advice.”  My own mother gave me stink-eye.  “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of it, sheesh.  No need to get violent.”

    I gingerly grasped Mrs. Beaumont by her upper arm and gently tried to peel her off my father.  The look of pleading and then gratitude on his face is something I will not soon forget.  With some fumbling I finally managed to more or less coax her into a semi-liquid vertical position.  My dad was gone before I could blink.  I had not seen him move that fast since I had called him an unsavory name in the seventh grade. 

    “Mrs. Beaumont, I think I’ll just take you home now okay.  It’s getting late and we all have big day tomorrow.”

    “Oh, don’th be thilly Wick, I am fine I can dwive myself home.”

    “Nah Mrs. Beaumont, I think maybe it would be safer if I took you home, come on we’ll just get you into the car and get you home.”  I tried taking a few steps leading her by the elbow.  She wasn’t walking particularly well, stumbled and ended up in my arms.  My wife finally looked up from the sewing machine, she was silently laughing at me.  Then, and I still shudder when I think about it, Mrs.’ Beaumont’s hand wandered down my back and she squeezed my ass.  I had never felt so violated in my life, it was terrible.

    This had to come to an end, my breaking point was very close, my wife was laughing out loud.  I could hear my parents and brother laughing, and I was probably a very bright shade of red.  I took Mrs. Beaumont firmly by the arm and walked/dragged her out to the car, and put her in the back seat.

    “Aren’th you going tho help me with my theath-belth Wick?”

    I slipped into the front seat started the car and put it in gear all in one fluid motion.  I wanted no part of reaching across her to ‘help’ with the seat belt.  “No, I think you can handle it can’t you Mrs. Beaumont?”

    “Well yeth but, hey, why am I in back and you awe in the fwonth?  Leth me join you up thewe.”  With this she attempted to climb into the front seat.  Between her inebriated state and some judicious accelerating, cornering and braking she never made it to the front seat.

    I pulled into the Beaumont’s driveway and went to help Mrs. Beaumont up from the floor of the vehicle.  We made slow but steady progress towards the front door, my mission nearly complete I figured I was home free.  I figured wrong.  At the front door Mrs. Beaumont felt it only fitting that I should come in and have a ‘dwinkey’ with her.  I politely but firmly, declined saying it was no problem seeing her home safe and that Jan was expecting me back. 

    “Well,” she said, “at leasth leth me give you a kiss fow bwinging me home”

    Before I could respond, even before the words registered, her arms were around my neck and she was pulling my head towards hers with what must have been all her strength.  Thinking coolly and calculating my odds of escape I quickly arrived at a plan to save both Mrs. Beaumont’s and my dignity, well I hoped mine anyway.  My entire plan hinged on one small factor that I had absolutely no control over.  If the front door was locked it would be ugly, very, very ugly.

    I turned her back to the door and pushed her up against the door as I grasped the knob and turned.  The door was thankfully unlocked and we started to fall back.  With one hand against the door jamb and the other around her back I stopped both of us from ending up on the foyer floor, which would have led to new and unwanted complications.  Quickly I got her more or less vertical and stable, told her good night, shut the door and fled for the car.  I was due some hazardous duty pay.