Pop goes to the door. It’s Tom, and Hilda is with him. I turn off the television set—I’ve lost track of what’s happening, and it doesn’t seem to be the grandfather who’s the spook after all. It’s the first time Hilda has been to our house, and Tom introduces her around. Then there’s one of those moments of complete silence, with everyone looking embarrassed, before we all start to speak at once.
“Hilda came to the beach with us,” I say.
“I told Tom we shouldn’t come so late,” says Hilda.
Pop says, “Not late at all. Come in and sit down.”
Hilda sits on the sofa, where Cat is curled up. He looks at her, puts his head back and goes on sleeping.
Mom brings coffee and cookies in from the kitchen, and I pour the rest of the popcorn into a bowl and pass it around. Tom stirs his coffee vigorously and takes one sip and puts the cup down.
“Reason we came so late,” he says, “Hilda and I have been talking all evening. We want to get married.”
Pop doesn’t look as surprised as I do. “Congratulations!” he says.
Tom says, “Thanks” and looks at Hilda, and she blushes. Really. Tom drinks a little more coffee and then he goes on: “The trouble is, I can’t get married on this flower-shop job.”
“Doesn’t pay enough?” Pop asks.