You arrive in the middle of their dinner...yet they don't seem suprised, or even perturbed.
"We've been waiting on you." Delores says, even though you can see a few gravy-splatters on her blouse, and the half-demolished remains of chicken-fried steak are behind her, at one of the three empty places at the table.
"This is my husband, Trevor." You say, and you watch as Delore's behavor changes completely. "Cold Shoulder" doesn't discribe the reaction adiquitely, but you suddenly know what your husband was talking about.
"We met." Delores says. "But I didn't get your name before. Welcome...I'm sorry, dear." She says to you, smiling again, acting again. "I didn't think to tell you...my husband and I...most of our little town, in fact...have a poor history with outside law."
You blink. Town?
Trevor echos your thought aloud, and Delores tells you, while leading you both to the table.
"Oh, Chambers is so small, its almost a sneeze on the map. As in, sneeze, you miss it? I think you may have had to file everything in Auburn...the thirty minute drive to another town is what keeps Chambers small. We don't even have a lybrary. Just a church, a gas station. Why, Trevor, you might even have filled your gas tank there, a few times!"
Delores is obviously babbling, but her husband slowly and methodically rises to get drinks for both you and Trevor. Delores sits you down and begins shoveling food onto both empty plates. Chicken fried steak, mash potatoes, green beans, and so much gravy you could choke a cat with it! You've never seen so much food on a single plate, much less had to eat it. And now Delores is moving on to the corn.
Both you and Trevor hold up your hands with a protesting "I'm fine!"
"Oh?" She says. "Alright. But maybe more for later...you're both going to be very hungry...later."
Don brings back two glasses, one full of red wine, the other with some amber liquid. Don puts the whine in front of you, the amber liquid in front of Trevor.
"It's apple cider." He says, sitting down. "I figured that Trevor, being a policeman, wouldn't want to be drunk tomorrow."
You aren't much of a drinker, and Trevor has been known to put back more than his share on a work night. He isn't even working, tomorrow. But neither of you protest, and as one you both sip your drinks. Trevor sets his down with a smile. "Cider." He says, as if he had any doubts.
You sip yours. It's exelent wine, with only the slightest bitter aftertaste...unpleasantly mettalic, to be sure, but wine is wine. You'll feel like hell in the morning, take two asprin and you won't insult your new neighbors. An inelegant, but useful solution...and this wine really is exelent.
Don smiles. "Oh, I'm sure Trevor knows his own appitite, Delores." He says, taking a bite out of his steak. He chews, swallows, and waits until you take a bite.
"However, I think you, ma'am, will probably be very hungry. Very."
You don't understand. But you don't care. You're eating your dinner beside the greatest man in the world, and if all you have to survive are the weird neighbors...who cares?