When George started college in Stillwater, Allan and Elaine called him, without fail, at nine o’clock every Sunday morning. Although the knowledge that he’d have to talk to his parents early the next day occasionally put a crimp in his Saturday-night activities, he never told them that he’d rather talk to them at, say, nine at night. The calls followed a basic pattern. He and Allan would discuss in minute detail the Cowboys’ latest football or basketball game, even if they’d already been at said game together (along with his grandfather Sam) the day before and had had a similar discussion after the game was over. Their discussions were longest and most intense about football, and during these extended conversations Elaine could be heard on the extension, breathing impatiently. When it was her turn she’d lovingly grill George about the state of his emotional and physical health, then move on to the books they were reading, interesting articles they’d read, and films they’d seen or wanted to see.
She’d conclude by relating the latest absurdity his grandmother had either said or done and the kerfuffle that resulted. This last almost never came as a surprise to George, since his grandmother had usually given her version of whatever outrage it was when he had a Sabbath dinner with them the Friday evening before, another regular occurrence. During his four years in Stillwater, at no time did it occur to George that his family was taking up an awful lot of his time. In fact, spending every Friday night with his grandparents was a good opportunity to invite his friends for a taste of real rather than dorm (and later, fraternity) food. That Gertie never liked any of the people he brought over, especially the girls, he attributed to the fact that not one of them was Jewish. She had been particularly outraged when he brought the girl he was dating sophomore year to their Passover seder and Melody came in wearing shorts, a somewhat snug T-shirt, and sandals. “Do you believe the rudeness?” George heard Gertie mutter to Sam. Did this cause him to break up with Melody shortly after the dinner? He had a suspicion it did.
The Sunday-morning conversations with his parents continued when George graduated and moved to Ann Arbor to begin dental school, but immediately after Lizzie and George got engaged they increased exponentially in duration. It turned out that Allan and Elaine now wanted to talk to Lizzie as well as their younger son every week. That took time. And now that George and Allan weren’t attending football games together, their conversations about the Cowboys (both the OSU and Dallas teams) intensified and lengthened. There was much sports news to discuss.
Roughly the first six months of 1995 were taken up with discussions about the wedding: where and when and what kind it would be. Once that was settled, the conversation turned to honeymoons. Lizzie loved these weekly phone calls with Allan and Elaine, but was glad to be done with the subject of weddings.
One Wednesday evening early in July, Lizzie and George were just finishing dinner, when the phone rang. Since Lizzie refused on principle to ever answer a ringing phone except when she knew it was Marla or George, she ignored it. It was George’s parents.
“Hey, Georgie,” Elaine said. “Daddy and I had a great idea about your honeymoon. Can we talk to Lizzie too?”
“Our honeymoon,” George mouthed as he handed Lizzie the phone and then went into the bedroom to get on the extension.
Elaine began. “I guess the first thing is, have you decided on where you’re going yet?”
Lizzie waited for George to respond and George waited for Lizzie.
“No, nothing really final,” George finally said. “We haven’t talked about it much.”
“We did think about Australia,” Lizzie said quickly, “since Todd won’t be at the wedding. The real wedding, I mean. I know he might come to Tulsa.”
Lizzie actually liked the idea of going to Sydney. It seemed to her to be a city that Jack would choose to live in. Maybe she’d find him there.
This diverted Elaine from the subject at hand. “Yes, and even if he does come we have no idea whether he’ll bring someone,” Elaine said. “I swear, he goes through girlfriends like we used to go through boxes of Cheerios when you boys were little. I can’t keep track of them.”
“He’s changed his name to Kale, did he tell you that, George? Legally changed it, I mean. I suppose that’s what we’ll have to call him, but I’m not sure I can do it with a straight face. Kale, a leafy green vegetable,” Allan said gloomily. “It might as well be chard or parsley. I hope he’s still wearing his retainer,” he added in a tone that conveyed the all-too-futile hope that this might be the case.
“Oh, stop, Allan, you’re getting off the point of the call. So, kids, we had this great idea, or at least we think it’s a great idea.”
There was a longish pause.
“Yes,” George said encouragingly.
Allan said, “We’d like to pay for the honeymoon as a wedding present.”
“No, Dad, that’s too much,” George immediately said. “You’re already giving us the party. You don’t need to pay for our honeymoon too.”
“Well, we do have a bit of an ulterior motive.”
“Uh-huh, an ulterior motive,” George echoed. “I should have known. And what might that ulterior motive be?”
“So”—Elaine took over—“you know that Daddy and I have always dreamed of going on a walking trip in Cornwall, right? The South West Coast Path is supposed to be really amazing.”
“You have? Since when? Why haven’t you ever mentioned it before?”
Elaine brushed off his incredulity. “Oh, years and years. I can’t believe we never told you and Todd—”
“Kale,” Allan interrupted. “We’ve got to remember to call him Kale now.”
“Yes, but he was Todd when we didn’t tell him, wasn’t he?”
George interrupted this potentially interesting but distracting discussion about names and verb tenses. “Look, Mom, Dad, we’re touched by your generosity, but please get to the point. I have to be at the office early tomorrow.”
“Okay, okay, here’s our idea,” Allan said. “If you two really haven’t any strong feelings about where to go on your honeymoon, how about if you come with us to Cornwall and we’ll go on a walking trip together?”
George’s chin hit the bottom of the phone, resulting in a loud thunk and perhaps internal injuries to his jaw.
“You want to come on our honeymoon?”
“Well, why not?” Allan said reasonably.
George’s voice rose. “Because it’s our honeymoon. Nobody’s parents—nobody’s sane parents, anyway—want to accompany their child and his wife on their honeymoon.”