“Gerald, your house smells.” Helga said, wrinkling her nose.
Gerald, still living with his mother at age 41, was used to these kinds of statements.
“Yeah, Mother is still smoking.” He said, quickly opening a window and fluffing the pillows on the sofa. He noticed some candles on the mantle and decided to light them. Anything to help his girlfriend and mother’s first meeting.
“Gerald, do you contribute to the decoration at all in here? I hope floral couches and frill and scotch aren’t your kind of thing.” Helga said, taking in her surroundings in surprise. She was definitely not going to hide her distaste for this situation. She knew she wasn’t a prime catch either but living with a smoker who happens to be his mother?
“Well, not the frill or flowers anyway.” Gerald said, smiling at Helga. Her blonde pigtails gave her a much younger look; although she had crow’s feet around her eyes and her clothing made her look like a want-to-be-Army-brat. Her camo tank top and tan skirt clashed with her big black leather boots but that was Helga. Unconventionally gorgeous, although odd and whimsical in nature and style.
“Who’s this?” came a voice from behind them.
“Mother! Mother, this is the woman I’ve been telling you about. Mother, meet Helga. Helga, my mother, Agnes.” Gerald said, pulling Helga by the hand over to his mother to introduce them.
“Nice to meet you!” Helga said, holding her hand out and smiling. Agnes stared at the hand for a moment, looked Helga in the eyes just long enough to shatter all dignity, and then turned back to her kitchen without a word.
“Well,” Gerald said, staring after his mother, as Helga turned, wide-eyed in shock at Agnes’s rudeness, “I think that means she likes you. She didn’t throw anything this time.”
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