"They're obsessing

     "They're obsessing on what we did," a man in a flak jacket and helmet stood up in his three foot foxhole and said.  He was shot in the chest with a sandbag tank arm.  "That's what he said."  I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to a new acquaintance's "the old man" since I'd left the tavern early.  People were impressed with his grit, casual clothes, sense of humor once he got on the same page in a story.  They also liked the way he and his wife could fall into ignoring each other spells while things mostly work themselves out.  "No need to worry that," was a phrase heard while potatoes were baking in a kitchen where people were re-creating "some Colonial thing or another." It went along with nobody's perfect, but you gotta try.

     "I hate Colonials," Sherry said.  It sounded loud because it was before the din of restaurant.  "Whaddaya mean?" Someone asked.  "MOM! Jeeees.  Speak for yourself." 

     "I am.  And I hate the whole Colonial thing.  Can you imagine spending one half of the day making butter and one half a candle so you can see the butter?" People remembered eat when you can, sleep when you can, poop when you can, and in an uncoordinated but group way started unwrapping butters and passing the bread around the table.  "But they," the man's mouth almost spit out tobacco juice but there wasn't any in there, "They knew how to take a stand." A prospective son-in-law had just bitten into a dinner role and struggled to swallow it and have a conversation.  "Not sure," he swallowed hard and slurped ice water, "Sir," more water, "If I entirely agree with you there on that point." 

     "What point?  I wasn't making a point."  

     Others filed past a buffet set up for people who needed to eat and go.  "When are they going to tell us Donald?" He turned his head and looked at her.  Radiant beauty.  He'd said something like Jesus and her; fish hooks to my roaming brain.  I just can't stop thinking of things I need to do until one of them touches my focus.  He put an arm, hand holding a glass of ice water, around her shoulder.  "Don't stress.  They're not, we're going to tell them.  If that's what we decide.  If that's what we're sure about."  She almost rested her head on his arm but popped it up strong before she sank sleepy.  "I'm sure." 

     Someone tapped on a water glass with a fork.