Chapter 9

It was only 8:30 Friday morning when Lois knocked on the Elias family's front door.

"Am I too early? Oh, I know I'm too early! But I couldn't sleep in that damned motel, and I couldn't wait to see you!" She gave Paul a hug that would have caused his knees to buckle -- if he'd had knees.

Paul Sr. had already left for work, but Paul's mother was right behind her son, at the door, waiting to be introduced. "You're not too early!" Marjorie said, opening her arms to Lois' embrace. "We're up! We still have breakfast on the table! Paul's dad has already left for work! You're not too early."

Lois was flushed with excitement. She'd carried her own suitcase to the front door from the car, no doubt hoping to avoid fighting with Paul about whether he would be the one to carry in her luggage. For the moment, the lone suitcase was left stranded and forgotten on the front porch.

Lois' display of joy in reuniting with Paul wasn't lost on Marjorie Elias. Paul's mom didn't miss much. She quietly registered immense satisfaction with this young woman. Marjorie's confidence -- confidence that, at least, her cruelly maimed son was loved by a good woman -- was growing.

"You want some breakfast? It's already on the table!"

"Yes! Yes, I left the hotel before their restaurant was even open! And coffee! You got any coffee?"

"Oh, we got coffee," Marjorie said. "C'mon in the kitchen."

Paul Sr. was called on his cell phone and it was agreed that he'd make a short day of it and try to get home early to meet Lois.

After a get-acquainted breakfast, Marjorie excused herself, went to her bedroom, and later emerged dressed to go out. "You and your father didn't get nearly all the food I needed from the store," she announced. I'm going to have to go again. And I need to run a couple' other errands. I likely won't be back until, oh, at least until 12:30 or 1," she said.

Instantly, she was out the door.

Paul laughed. "It's amazing," he told Lois. "She gave my dad a grocery list yesterday that was longer than a pool cue, and he and I went to the supermarket and practically emptied the shelves. Now she says we didn't get anywhere near everything she needed."

"I think she's just trying to give us a little time alone," Lois said.

"You're so smart, you ought to go to law school," Paul said, laughing. "Yeah, I figured that out, too!"

"You think we have time to take a little nap?" Lois said.

"Baby, we aren't gonna need much time! I've waited so long, I'm pretty sure I'm only gonna be good for about thirty seconds, anyway!"

"That might be enough," Lois said. "C'mon, race you to the guest room!"

It wasn't much of a race, although Paul was going at top speed. By the time he got there, Lois was naked as the day she was born.

True to her word, Marjorie didn't get back with her surprisingly modest purchases until 1:15.

Everything seemed normal, but she thought that perhaps Paul seemed more relaxed than he had been in recent days.

"We've been talking about my job possibilities," Paul told his mother.

"Paul showed me the opening chapters of his autobiography," Lois said. "I think it's wonderful!"

"Well, you're kinda biased in my favor," Paul said, "and I'm kinda shaky, now that I'm into writing it, because I don't know if I've got enough to say to fill up a whole book!"

"And he told us that he needs an ending," Marjorie told Lois.

"Yeah. He'll need to tell his readers what happens next," Lois agreed.

"Maybe I can make it a mystery," Paul joked. "Just say, 'I wonder what happens next? -- THE END."

"That'll make for a pretty short book," Lois said.

"Got a long title, though," Paul said. "Two Strikes, and You're Out."

"I don't know, Paul," Lois said. "That 'You're Out' part is pretty pessimistic, isn't it? I thought you were going to write an inspirational story."

"Well, how inspirational it'll be will depend, I guess, on how I'm able to wind it up. Whether it has a happy ending."

Marjorie had been listening to all this with interest. "Seems to me, with a girl like Lois around, a happy ending is almost guaranteed!"

"Your mother's a sweetheart," Lois said, beaming at the unexpected compliment. "I want to adopt her."

"Maybe that could be arranged," Marjorie said, looking at her son.

"She might make a pretty decent mother-in-law at that," Paul agreed, "but I'm not making any marriage proposals until I've gotten some kind of work."

"Did Paul tell you he got offered a job here?" Marjorie asked Lois. Marjorie knew there was no chance that Paul would stay in Pikeville, but she was proud that he had at least been offered a job in his home town.

"No, he didn't mention it," Lois said, looking at Paul expectantly.

"I don't plan to stay here," he told her. "But I sure do wish I knew what I did plan to do, instead."

They all agreed that Paul's book title, "Two Strikes and You're Out," should be shortened to simply "Two Strikes."

Their late lunch consisted of a light cold salad that Marjorie had prepared as soon as she had returned from her shopping trip. "This'll just tide you over until we have a real early supper with your father," she told Paul. He's coming home early, and we'll eat around 5:30 or 6 -- is that OK?"

"Sure, Mom, that's fine."

Paul and Lois retired to the parlor. They had enjoyed a strenuous, and mutually satisfying, if brief, round of lovemaking in the late morning. Before that, Lois thought that her initial meeting with Paul's mother had gone wonderfully well.

But now, Lois wanted to tell him about her recent thinking, about his career opportunities. "Paul, what about writing? You're doing this autobiography, which I think was a fantastic idea. But before I even knew about that, I started wondering: What about, maybe, journalism?