The Imperfect Marriage novel · Chapter 24 of 24

Chapter 24: The Morning After

The singing turned out to be my father.

He had brought half the yard back to the house in two pickups.

They carried in a casserole, a folding table, and a banjo that nobody could explain.

They sang for twenty minutes in the front hall, badly.

Then Pru shooed them into the kitchen.

I lay in bed with my head on Ross's chest and listened to a crowd eat casserole below us.

"We could stay up here," Ross said.

"My father is down there."

"Your father is the reason."

"Exactly."

We got up at last around seven.

I pulled on the old Duluth Dukes shirt, and Ross found his jeans.

We went downstairs with our hair every which way.

The kitchen was full.

The crew chief sat at the head of the table in his silver beard, holding a mug with both hands.

Two welders were washing dishes.

Pru's son lay under the table in a pillow fort, eating a banana.

My father sat in the best chair in the house, with his feet on a stool and his pump in its bag at his hip.

"Morning, newlyweds," Arne said. "Some of us have been up since five."

"You've been up since five?"

"I'm old and I have a battery. Sit down. Your husband is going to make toast."

"He's going to burn the toast," said Pru.

"It's tradition," said the crew chief.

Ross put two slices into the toaster with the grim face of a man defusing a bomb.

I took a mug of coffee from somebody's hand and found a seat at the table.

Someone was already sitting at the far end.

It was Faith, in a plain sweater, with her hair pulled into a short ponytail and no makeup on.

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