An Old Fashioned Romance

From Weathered Too Young by Marcia Lynn McClure

Tom smiled and went on. “Well, old Slater . . . he gets a might nervous when it comes to sparkin’ and flirtin’ and such . . . so he’s lookin’ around . . . feelin’ a little warm . . . and what he does is up and empties that cup of punch down his throat quicker than a wink. Then he starts into lettin’ all them perty little fillies kiss him. Blushin’ beet red all the while. Well, good old Johnny, he was quite a prankster you see . . . old Johnny fills up Slater’s little punch cup again with his own contents. So, at one point, Slater needs a break from all that smoochin’ and he picks up his cup. No sir, he ain’t payin’ a lick of attention to the taste of it, so he slams down another cup full of hard liquor. Now . . . as well you know, Lark . . . me and Slater, we don’t drink as a rule. So, bein’ so young and not bein’ used to the drink . . . well, that stuff starts takin’ hold perty darn fast. And it ain’t long before Slater starts plain enjoyin’ all that sparkin’! I look over and there he is wrappin’ them girls up in his arms and plantin’ big juicy kisses all over their faces and mouths.”

“All right! That’s it. Enough of that bull, Tom,” Slater grumbled, standing and finally turning to face the others.

Katherine started to giggle and Lark smiled as she said, “Finish it, Tom. Oh Lark . . . it gets better!”

Tom cleared his throat and looked right at his brother as he continued. “Well . . . to cut a long story into pieces . . . they had to throw him out of the social! He was dang near attackin’ everything in a dress that he could get his hands on! They asked him to leave all nice and polite . . . but he just kept kissin’ the girls! It was a sight to see! And sicker than a dog the next mornin’ . . . he was sicker than I ever seen him since!”

Lark burst into laughter with the others when Slater wrinkled up his nose and said, “You gotta trap bigger ‘n a wide mouth bass, Tom.” Then he walked over to Lark raised his eyebrows and said, “What are you a snickerin’ at? I was about yer age then. So, I don’t see what you think is so funny.”

Lark drew in a deep breath to compensate for what she had lost laughing. Then she stood to face him. “Well . . .” she began, trying to stifle her laughter, “I may be young . . . but at least I’m aware of what’s going on around me. I’d never fall into such a trap.” Then she burst out laughing as did the others.

“Is that so?” Slater asked, grinning slyly at her.

“Of course! Imagine . . . not realizing that you were drinking something other than punch! Not to mention getting caught under the mistletoe!”

“Really? And you think you’re smarter than that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as his smile broadened.

“Of course,” Lark stated.

Her own smile faded, however, when Slater raised his eyebrows and pointed upward with one index finger. The humor of the story had distracted Lark and she hadn’t realized until that moment that she stood directly beneath the sprig of mistletoe that Tom had hung from the rafters. Lark glanced up quickly. There it hung in all its glory. She looked back at Slater who was grinning mischievously down at her.

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