A New World. Robert M. Keane
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The dining-room table was set with gleaming china. The goblets with the gold rims were out. When these saw service, Jim was not told to help with the dishwashing. It was no penalty. The flowers were at the center. Even the tablecloth, a good Irish linen one, was set out so that it fell in perfect folds at the corners. The silver setting was the most elaborate he’d ever seen. There were three forks, two knives, two spoons and a butter knife at each place. Where, Jim wondered, would she get all the courses?
Florence came in from the kitchen and rolled her eyes up in an expressive gesture of annoyance at Aunt Nora. She formed the words with her lips to Jim: “I wish she’d go home.”
Nora followed her in. She looked over the table setting. “Isn’t it lovely? Sure any boy who looked at that table would know he was getting an uncommon girl.”
Florence worried about the seating arrangement. “It’s much too crowded,” she said. There were twelve places set: Harry, Florence herself, Jim; Ralph, his mother, father, and aunt; Aunt Nora, Arthur, Cricket, Harold. Uncle Arthur, of course, was a doubtful guest, but a place had to be left.
“Why don’t you get Harold to play the violin during the meal?” Jim suggested.
Nora brightened. “That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” she said.
“No,” said Florence decisively. “I have Mantovani dinner music.” She continued to ponder the seating arrangement, talking to herself. “Daddy goes at the end; then the first two places will be me on one side and Ralph’s mother at the other side; then Ralph next to me, then his father next to his mother.”
“Oh no,” said Nora. “You want Ralph sitting opposite you and not next to you. He can see your eyes then.”
“He should be sitting next to me, shouldn’t he?”
“Of course not,” said Nora, “Your eyes are like stars today. You want him to be looking into them.”
“Jim, shouldn’t he be sitting next to me?”
“Why don’t you put him at the end near the door,” Jim suggested. “Then if anyone wants any extra gravy or anything, he can run out and get it.”
“Be serious, will you!” cried Florence. She was near tears.
Nora was rearranging the place cards.
“Aunt Nora, would you please leave those alone!”
Nora looked up angrily. Florence saw the sudden flush in Nora’s face. She tried to tone down what she had said and to explain. “I thought it over for a long time before arranging them that way.”
“Suit yourself, girl. Suit yourself,” Nora said in a tone that showed she was seriously ruffled.
“Take it easy,” said Jim to Florence.
“They’ll be here any minute,” said Florence, “And my father’s not even here to welcome them. I might as well be an orphan.”
“Aw, come on.”
“Why don’t you lay down for a minute?” suggested Nora.
“How can I lay down when they’re coming!”
There was a noise at the back door.
“That’s them!” cried Florence.
“Are they coming in the back door?” asked Nora, startled.
“That’s not them,” said Jim.
It was Jill. “I brought a cheese dip for your dinner, Florence,” she announced.
Florence came over to look.
“Wow,” Jill said when she saw the table. She had a white dress on, with rosebuds at the waist.
“They’re going to be here any minute,” said Florence. She took the foil off Jill’s dish. “I’ll put it in the living room on the table.”
“It would be better to put it in the refrigerator until they come,” said Jill.
“You’re right,” said Florence. She reversed direction and headed for the kitchen. “I’m so confused. My father won’t even be here when they come. What will I tell them?”
Jill thought for a moment. “Just tell them he went to see one of the priests,” she said. “He’ll probably be back before they come.”
“I hope not,” thought Jim.
Jill and Florence made a check to see if anything had been forgotten. Sure enough, something had: extra ice. “I’ll go get some,” said Jim. He was glad to get out of the house.
Chapter 10
Jim was on his way through the living room to go out the front door when he heard the crunch of car tires on the gravel in the driveway. He hurried to the window and parted the curtain. It was Ralph’s car. He dashed to the kitchen. “It’s them,” he cried. “They’re here.”
“Oh God,” said Florence softly.
“I’d better leave,” said Jill.
“Stay,” said Florence, casting about for support.
“No, I’ll come in later,” she said and she went out the back.
Nora suddenly sang, “I love you,” in a high, crooning brogue.
Florence walked with measured, deliberate steps to the living room, and then to the foyer, and stood at the front door. Nora followed. Jim was third in line.
The bell rang.
Jim felt his heart would stop at the energy in the room.
Florence wouldn’t answer the first ring. She let the seconds tick by until there was a second ring; then she reached for the knob.
The door swung open. Ralph was in front, a big smile on his face.
“Hi ya!”
He swung his head forward to kiss her; she swung her head forward at the same time.
They cracked heads, forehead on forehead, nose on nose.
They reeled from the impact.
“I’m sorry,” he cried. He had horror on his face. Florence laughed gaily, as if it were the most delightful thing that had happened to her all day. She held her nose. “How silly,” she said.
“How stupid of me,” he said.
They both paused. Florence looked at him expectantly.
“My folks,” said Ralph. He leaped to the side to let his parents come forward. He slammed his back against the door and the door hit the wall with a heavy thud.