The Princess (Montgomery/Taggert 10)
“I think you look swell,” Dolly said, smoothing over the awkward moment. “Let’s get this cleaned up and get downstairs. There won’t be anything left to eat by the time we get there.”
Aria was in her element as hostess. She quietly made sure everyone had enough to eat and that no one’s glass was ever empty. It was a little difficult coping without servants but she managed. She caught Dolly watching her a few times and smiled.
J.T. arrived for dessert.
“Here’s the bridegroom,” Gail called. “Move over, Mitch, and let J.T. sit by his bride.”
“This is fine,” J.T. said, moving toward Bill and Dolly. “Anything left to eat?”
“No more meat but there’s coleslaw, potato salad, shrimp salad, whatever, over there. Help yourself.”
J.T. gave Aria a hard look. “My wife will fix me a plate.”
For a moment the group was silent, then Aria put her plate aside and stood. “Larry, would you like more apple pie?”
“No thanks, Princess, I’ve had more than enough.”
“Princess?” J.T. asked.
“It’s my nickname for her,” Bill said pointedly.
Aria took a plate and began filling it with food.
J.T. moved to stand across the table from her. “American women wait on their men. They are also good hostesses. Did you make demands that everyone serve you? You didn’t use a knife and fork on your hamburger, did you?”
“Lay off her,” Bill hissed. “She’s doin’ just great. Real nice party, Princess.”
“Does this please you, master?” Aria asked, handing J.T. a plate heaped with food.
“Don’t get smart with me, I’m—Oh, hello, Dolly.” He took his plate and left.
Dolly stood for a moment watching Aria, then took her arm. “Let’s you and me get together Monday and have a nice long girl talk.”
At that moment, someone put on a Glenn Miller record inside the house and Bill asked Dolly to dance. One by one the couples went inside and began to dance in the living room. Only Mitch, J.T., and Aria were left outside.
“Mrs. Montgomery, may I have this dance?” Mitch asked. J.T. never looked up from his plate of food as Mitch escorted Aria inside the house.
Her first encounter with American dancing was shocking to Aria. Even the man to whom she had been engaged had never held her this close.
“Come on, honey, loosen up,” Mitch said, holding Aria’s stiff body.
“Are American wives, as you say, loose?”
“Where are you from?”
“Paris,” Aria answered quickly.
“Ah,” he said, and tried to pull her closer but she wouldn’t bend. “If you’re French, you ought to know a little about love.”
“Absolutely nothing,” she said quite seriously.
Mitch laughed aloud at that and hugged Aria. “I’ve always wondered about ol’ J.T.”
Dolly pulled Bill to dance by Mitch and Aria. “You’d better behave yourself,” Dolly said to Mitch, nodding her head toward the back door where J.T. was entering.
The other couples held their breaths as J.T. strode purposely toward Mitch and Aria. But he walked past them as if he didn’t see them. “Bill, you got a minute? I want to talk to you about installing the radar.”
“Now? This is Saturday night.”