A Rather Humble Beginning

"Just calm down, be yourself and let the conversation flow," Donovan said to his fiancée Delilah as they rode to the fifth floor of the apartment complex for senior citizens.

"What if they don't like me?" Delilah replied nervously in her squeaky, high-pitched voice.

"What's not to like? You're amazing!" Donovan reassured her. He pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

He straightened his fire engine red bow tie, a token of love that had been given to him by the woman of his dreams. He looked affectionately at Delilah, who was attempting to smooth her wild, wavy brown hair that had significantly more volume than length to it. He bent down and kissed her on the top of her head.

"We're here," he announced to her when the elevator door opened.

They both took a deep breath and proceeded to apartment 503.

Donovan's knock on the door was followed by 45 painfully long seconds of silence. Finally, he heard the dead bolt being released, which was the signal for him to enter.

"Hey Aunt Betty!" he said as they entered the quaint living room. "Hey Uncle Dirk!"

They stood there, hand-in-hand, basking in their love-struck splendor; 6'6" Donovan - barely 165 pounds - in his black suit, red bow tie and matching red dress shoes and Delilah, a 5'0" stout woman, wearing what looked like a red high school prom dress.

"Uncle, Auntie, I want you both to meet my future wife, Delilah. I proposed to her yesterday and she said yes. We look forward to spending the rest of our lives together, being fruitful and multiplying."

There was an awkward silence as the elderly couple sat on the sofa and stared at them for what seemed like an eternity.

"Looks like one of ya has already multiplied," Uncle Dirk finally mumbled as his wife jabbed him in his side with her elbow.

"Ow!" he hollered, moving as far away from his other half as he could on the large sofa.

"What did he say?" Delilah whispered to Donovan, wishing the comment had been audible.

But Donovan knew exactly what his uncle had mumbled. "Nothing," he whispered back. "He mumbles a lot, but it's because he's old. Just ignore him and smile."

"Well, you two don't have to stand there all day," Aunt Betty said, extending a not-so-warm invitation to the couple to take a seat.

The elderly couple continued to stare at the 40-year-old lovebirds as they sat on the crème-colored love sofa on the opposite side of the cocktail table. Aunt Betty had on her favorite pink housecoat and house slippers. She wore her silver hair in a French Roll. The Playboy Bunny tattoo on her left ankle was a stark contrast from her overall conservative appearance.

Uncle Dirk had on a white tank undershirt and a pair of black sweatpants. He had a head full of snow-white, curly hair, which he wore in a ponytail to show off the tiny diamond in his left earlobe. On his right arm was an elaborate tattoo of a king sitting on his throne, his outstretched arms draped in diamond bracelets. At the top it read, "King of Bling."

There was another moment of awkward silence. Then without warning, Delilah shifted into gear and took off:

"Oh my God, Donnie has told me so much about you all and how you raised him from the age of 10. He said that you used to be a model Aunt Betty and that you love to go fishing Uncle Dirk. You both remind me so much of my best friend Lorrie's grandparents. I know you're not grandparents but we hope to give you some grand nieces and nephews real soon. We're not getting any younger and I'm already at an age where pregnancy is pretty risky."

"I mean, I'm not expecting just yet but we're going to start working on that as soon as we're married. We're looking at getting married in April. It'll be a small wedding and you'll both be invited."

Donovan shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Aunt Betty stared at Delilah above the rim of her reading glasses while Uncle Dirk began to doze off.

"Well aren't you a talkative little thing," Aunt Betty said dryly, jabbing her husband in his side once again.

"Girl talks too damn much," Uncle Dirk fussed under his breath as he adjusted his posture on the sofa.

Not understanding what Uncle Dirk had said, Delilah just flashed her dimpled smile and nodded her head.

"You ever been married before?" Aunt Betty asked her.

"Oh, no" Delilah laughed, fanning the air. "I've had my share of male suitors but I've been so busy with my career that I haven't had time for love. I work at a bakery downtown. It's called Beautiful Buns Bakery. Sounds kind of perverse but the title alone has drawn millions of customers over the years. You name it, I can bake it. I even plan to bake our wedding cake."

"I see," Aunt Betty replied as Uncle Dirk leafed through the latest copy of Playboy Magazine that he had taken off the end table beside him.

"I'll betcha ya can't do this!" he said as he turned the magazine toward his nephew and future niece-in-law, proudly revealing a nude centerfold in a very provocative position. He flashed a huge, sneaky grin as he proudly showed off the centerfold - just before his wife snatched the magazine from his hands and hit him over the head with it.

"Oh, my!" Delilah gasped.

"Don't mind him," Aunt Betty said to her. "He never had any good sense. I only married him for his money."

"If I had any money, we wouldn't be in this Hell hole," Uncle Dirk said, frowning.

"Auntie, Uncle, I just wanted you both to meet the woman that I love and plan to marry," Donovan said, abruptly rising from the love sofa and gently tugging on his fiancée's arm. "We'll visit longer next time," he lied.

"Okay!" Uncle Dirk said. "Still got my purple suit from 1975. I can still wear it too. I look just like that singer Prince when I have it on. I'll be at your wedding with bells and whistles. Just let us know the exact date. I'll drag the Misses along. Might even sing a song or two for ya when I get there."

"We will be at your wedding. Both of us will be tastefully dressed and your uncle will be on his best behavior," Aunt Betty said as she cut her eyes at her husband.

Donovan and Delilah walked over to the old couple who remained seated on the sofa and bent down to give parting hugs and kisses before they left the apartment.

As soon as they were in the elevator, they both began to laugh hysterically.

"Those are my folks," Donovan said, shaking his head and adjusting his glasses once again. "Welcome to the family..."