“Isn’t it beautiful, George?”
“Musician here,” requests George, who goes by that around other people generally. “Until we’re properly married anyway and tied the knot between us.”
“Oh George,” she said, and kissed him in front of the vanilla layer cake also tied with a knot, anticipating the big event. There’s no doubt they like each other a whole lot, probably a whole whole lot. But do they love each other? Now is the time to find out if ever.
“Now your turn, George.”
“Your turn, *Musician*, what? Your father is standing right over there.”
“My father has been dead for 10 years. That’s *your* father. Newt, remember?”
“Newt, right.” He remembered. He thought.
“And he’s been calling you George for I don’t know how long. Probably since we started dating. *Anyways*, kiss me again. Put on that new hud you got and let me have it. Newt’s too busy trying out the tea to pay attention. Plant a good one right on the kisser.”
Wait… that *was* her father. He said this to her as she puckered in front of him, making her think as well.
“Oh George,” she decided, “let’s not argue about relatives right here, right now. Let’s focus on us. Whatever family issues remain to be solved, we’ll be the stable point in the middle of it all — that’s the important thing. ” She then made the first move herself right when Newt — whoever’s father he was — put his own thing to his lips, synchronicity noted.
And let’s go with Shelley’s father. Too much lead up text to change if I don’t. It’ll work out.
(to be continued of course)