September 11th, 1990

September 11th, 1990

At home, England

Dinner with mum and dad, followed by 32, 814 questions from mum about my time with David in London!

“So, when are we going to meet him?”
“I don’t know, mum.”

“Will it be soon?”

“I just said I don’t know!”

“Karen!”

“Sorry, dad.”

“When is David going to Germany?” Mum asked.

“You’re not coming with me!” I said, glancing at dad as he tried to suppress a smile.

“I know that! I was just thinking he could come here beforehand.”

“No, he’ll be flying straight to Germany from LA.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not entirely but I can’t imagine he’d want to split up the journey if he doesn’t have to.”

“Uff,” she sighed. “I just want to meet him.”

“Jesus Liz, will ye give it a rest!” Dad said, rolling his eyes.

Mum made a little huffy sound but didn’t skip a beat. “Tell us about Lorna and Klaus’s wedding plans.”

“What would you like to know?”

“What do you think she’ll wear?”

“Something white I imagine!”

“There’s no need to be like that, Karen,” Dad said, on his way out of the kitchen.

“Sorry. Ehm, she said she wants the works, whatever that means.”

Mum raised an eyebrow. “That means the whole kit and caboodle.”

I laughed. “Yup, that sounds about right for Lorna.”

“She’s a bonnie looking lassie, she’ll look stunning.”

“I’m sure she will.”

“As will you, hen,” she smiled.

“Mum! I am not getting married!”

“I meant at Lorna’s wedding. You’ll look stunning at Lorna’s wedding.”

“Oh,” I uttered, but the seed was already planted and I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to the type of wedding I might want.

 

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