The meal was served in the grand dining hall, a richly appointed room with an ornately painted ceiling, something you might expect in to find in a church, in Rome.  There was an enormous crystal chandelier hanging precariously over the table.  I wondered how on earth any ceiling could safely hold such immense weight. 

Her grandfather noticed me staring at it.

"It's from Russia," he proclaimed proudly. "It took'em two months to ship it here and another three weeks to put it up. We needed new beams put in to support the weight." 

The house had two dining rooms, one for small events and another one for large gatherings like tonight.  This evening there were so many guests that the children were in the small dining room which had a table set for twenty.

In the main hall, Betty's grandfather sat at the far end of the table in front of the largest turkey I had ever seen.  Betty and I sat at the middle of the table so that each person could easily say some snide comment about how if I hurt Betty they'd kill me, or they'll put me in the foundation of the next high rise they were building, or, and this one was my personal favorite, they'd sell me as a white sex slave to a savage African tribe.  The guy said he could get three ivory tusks for someone like me.  "Honestly," he said, "I really could."  Betty couldn't help but laugh at most of them.

"I hope they're not scaring you away," she whispered to me, semiseriously.  "I would understand if you never wanted to see me again."

"Did you bring me here to get rid of me?" I asked, "Because if you did, your plan has backfired miserably."

Betty seemed pleasantly surprised.  "Really?" she asked.  "You like my family?"

I winked at her.  "I did much worse to my older sister's boyfriends.  That's why she was so eager to run away to Texas."

Betty smiled.  She had a beautiful smile that lit up any room.  I suddenly realized how lucky I was to have her in my life.

"Did somebody say Texas?" Her uncle Tex hadn't been able to hear a word we were saying.  No one could have, I assumed.  Yet when he heard the word Texas, well I swear I saw his mustache smile.

"I did," I replied.

"What about Texas?" he asked. 

"My sister married an oil prospector from Texas," I answered.

"Oil, you say.  What's that man's name?"

"Teddy Braggs."

Tex paused deep in thought.  "Teddy Braggs....never heard of him.  Before you go I'll give you my personal phone number.  Give it to Mr.  Braggs and have him call me.  I'll show him where the serious prospecting is at."

"That would be very kind of you, sir," I replied.

"Aw, to heck with Sir; call me Uncle Tex."

"Alright, thank you Uncle Tex."

All at once the entire table stopped their conversations and stared straight at me.  Even Betty was shocked.

Tex looked around the table, then back at me.  "Son, I was just kidding.  You have to call me sir" he said as he slowly moved his hand down to his pistol.

The table burst out in laughter until Irma stood up, yelling at her husband.

"This is no way to treat a guest!  Now apologize to the nice boy."

Tex sat silently in his chair, belligerent to Irma so she slapped him across the back of his head.  "I said apologize to the boy!"

He lifted up his face slightly.  "I'm sorry," he sheepishly said to me.

Betty's grandfather stood up at the end of the table.  "I suppose by now all of you have met our guest and Betty's date for the evening, Adam." He looked at me.  "Adam would you like to lead us in grace?"

I was far too nervous to say another word at this table.  "Sir, I'm flattered by the request but," Betty whispered in my ear before I had a chance to finish my sentence.

"Say grace," she told me.

"I'd be honored to," I replied.  Before I could start, the young boy that was watching the football game earlier came running frantically into the room.

"Mommy, cousin Alex spilled juice all over the carpet."

Betty's grandfather called out for one of the servants.  "Ingrid, the children should never have to come in here to tell us about some mess.  Take care of it."

Betty got up from the table to comfort the small boy.

"Now go back in there Billy and look after your cousins." She kissed him on the forehead.

"Ok, mom," he replied. Betty nervously glanced back at me.

Did he just call Betty Mom?  She was a mother?  This was her...son?  She had never mentioned a kid before.  Needless to say I was in a state of shock as Betty waited for a reaction from me.  My face had to show that I was surprised but I think that it was the next reaction that she was waiting for.  I felt strangled as I loosened my tie and got up from the table.  Betty tried to follow me but her father stopped her.

"You didn't tell him about Billy?" he sternly demanded.  "The most important person in your life and you never mentioned him!" The harshness of his voice showed his immense displeasure. 

That's all I heard as I left the dining room, went through the main kitchen, then past the maids kitchen that opened to the laundry room where there was a door that led out to an enormous patio.  I had to think very carefully about what I just saw because I knew that my next words to Betty would determine our future, if there was indeed going to be a future.

I stood outside and leaned over the railing where I witnessed the most splendid sunset I could have ever dreamed up. If I only I hadn't just been sideswiped by Betty and her son I would have enjoyed it fully.  Instead   I nervously breathed in the cool evening air. After a few deep breaths I  felt my heartbeat slow down.  My head on the other hand was actually blank, I couldn't think about anything.  I suppose that was a good thing because I tended to make horrible decisions when I was in this sort of state. My Pa used to tell me that when you speak in anger you'll make the best speech you'll ever regret. I never practiced those words of wisdom. I was used to letting my emotions take over but thankfully Betty gave me a few moments to let everything sink in.

I continued to breath deeply. After a few more minutes the fresh air was finally able to clear away the fog that had filled my mind.  My first thought was that Betty's father was absolutely right. How could she not tell me she had a kid and who the heck did she have it with? She's too young to have a boy of five, or did she lie about her age as well? Every thought that entered my mind condemned her even further. There was no way she could talk herself out of this one, and then I heard Betty's sweet voice call out from behind me. 

"I'm so sorry," she said as she made her way closer. "That's why I didn't want your mother here tonight.  I wanted to introduce you to my son."

I remained leaned over the railing, in my thinking position.  "We still haven't been introduced," I sarcastically said to her.

"I know.  I wanted to tell you earlier in the evening but there were always so many people around."

"You had months to tell me about him," I reminded her.

"Adam," she now put her hand on my shoulder.  "I like you, and I have since the moment you stole my seat at the bar.  I couldn't just say to you that I got married at eighteen years old, that my husband died fighting in Vietnam, and by the way, I have a five year old son.  That isn't much fun to hear the first time you meet someone.  They tend to look at you and think, poor girl and then they forget about you because nobody is interested in a twenty four year old with baggage."

I had to admit, she was right about that.  I probably would never have dated her a second time because when a girl has a kid you automatically think that what she wants is a serious relationship and God only knows that I didn't want that at all the first time we met.  I just wanted to feel her beautiful body, kiss those luscious lips and admire her sexy long legs.

"Why didn't you tell me about him afterwards?" I asked.

"I was scared.  I really like you Adam." She removed her hand from my shoulder and backed away.  The next move was mine.

My father believed that there are a few times in your life when God tests you.  Like any smart kid, I asked him "if God created everyone and knows everything then why does he test us?" His answer was interesting.  He said that God created each of us with certain abilities; therefore he knows what we'll do in those situations.  That's not a test, that's a given.  A test is when we're forced to choose whether or not to do something that's out of our comfort zone. Now I'm not the biggest believer in God, but I found myself recalling my father's words while looking out over the vast city of Los Angeles.

I realized that right now I was being tested.  What I couldn't figure out was what the right answer was.  If I accept the situation then am I in fact telling Betty that someday we'll be married?  If I don't accept it, will I regret it later?  Will I want her back only to find out that she's moved on?

I know full well that I've done many rotten things to women, but none of them were serious.  So I lead a few of them to believe that I cared for them when all I wanted was a night of pleasure.  Every guy has done that at least a few dozen times in his life.  My only crime would be that I was better at it than most.  Betty shouldn't be treated that way.  Forget about the fact that she has a kid.  She's a sweet, sensitive, well meaning woman who truly cares about me.  That should be reason enough to end this now.  I'm insensitive, selfish, untrustworthy and thoughtless.  I shouldn't put her through this.  She deserves better.  But on the other hand, she is gorgeous and rich.  I could have everything in life and I'm sure I could make her happy, maybe.

I pushed myself off the railing and turned to face Betty.  She looked sad. Here eyes spoke volumes as if they were saying sorry and please give me another chance. I had to turn away from her to keep myself from tearing up when I inadvertently spotted Billy watching us from the living room where the main entrance to the patio was.  Instead of saying anything to Betty, I waved Billy over.  He quickly came running out.

"Have you got a football we can toss around?" I asked him.

His face lit up like a pinball machine.  "I'll be right back!" he said as he ran back into the house.

I had made my decision.