GINNY HAD TO STAND AND BRACE HERSELF OUTSIDE HER FRONT DOOR, inhaling deeply to preserve her composure. Both her parents had already settled down for the evening, she expected, and herself and Bill were about to enter the lion's den. She swiped her hands over his shoulders to rid them of gathered dust and reached up to smooth his wavy hair back with her hand, where she caught a knot that tugged his head back. He looked down his nose at her, asking, "What'cha gonna do if they hate my guts?"
"I'll tell them I'm a grown woman and I'll do what I like," she said, trying to radiate little to no concern despite the trepidation she was feeling beneath her façade. She straightened his collar, "They can take a walk."
She knocked on the door with as much confidence as she could muster, and her mother answered, wearing the yellow rubber washing-up gloves that she herself had been wearing that one time Bill knocked on her door. The look on the woman's face was one of confusion and surprise when she saw her daughter standing alongside an American that afternoon. "Mother," she declared, holding her head up, "This is Bill. It's his last day in Melbourne today. I told him he could come to our house for a farewell dinner, so we bought a ham."
"Ma'am," was all Bill said, holding up the ham that he had been carrying sort-of awkwardly.
Rather than suddenly reeling off all the reasons why Ginny shouldn't have been fraternising with a Yank, the ham preoccupied the thoughts of her mother. Her eyes the size of dinner plates, she gasped, "Where on Earth did you get this? It isn't black market, is it? I would have sold an arm for something like this a week or so ago," she took the ham from the American and smiled gently, "Why thank you, Bill, this is ever so generous of you. My name's Annie — I'm Ginny's mother. Head on in and make yourself comfortable."
Like a proper solider, Bill nodded. She noticed his hands clamped together behind his back, and he stood straighter than she'd ever seen him before. Where had all the lethargy of the real Bill Smith gone, and who had he been replaced with? He exclaimed, "Thank you kindly," before passing both women and heading inside as if it were his own home. Ginny feared that he'd meet her father as soon as he entered the living room, and wouldn't have any support from her whilst the enounter happened.
In his absence, her mother's leer was stern, cool and sharp blue eyes like daggers dipped in ice. She hadn't seen her mother look like this since Violet Memory Day when Ginny got chewing gum stuck in her hair. She crossed her arms, and her yellow washing-up gloves reflected the setting sunlight offensively into her daughter's eyes. She said warningly, "I hope you've got your head screwed on properly, Ginny. You told us this would never happen. You told us we didn't have to worry about these Yanks worming their way into our lives. Your father is going to be less than amused with welcoming someone like this man into his midst. Where did you get him from?"
