STORIES TO ENTERTAIN YOU. If You Get Bored on Your Wedding Night

Twenty-nine stories of humor, love, mystery and contemporary situations.

From "VIDO TOGETHERNESS MEETS ITS MATCH"

"Mom, this is my date," I said with my arm around Thelma's waist. "I think you know her."

My mother gaped. I enjoyed the awkward pause to the hilt, but Thelma had too much heart to let it continue. "Hi, Pat. You have a charming son."

"You're going out with Bernard?" gasped my mother.

"That's right, Pat. We have a lot of fun together. We are thinking of going to Palm Springs next weekend."

My mother's eyes bulged. She fought for polite words to say but could find nothing better than a weak "Oh." I did not intend to tell her about the bridge tournament at Palm Springs. After some refreshments, Thelma bid my mother good night. I followed her out the front door and give her a long and heavy kiss that my mother would hear and also see from the crack in the curtains of the open living-room window.

Down the street and out of earshot. "Bernard, I'm not really happy about the trick I played on your mother. I went along with you to express my thanks for taking me to the club, where I met some very nice gentlemen in my age bracket. But, I'm going out with a new partner after tonight, and that includes the Palm Springs tournament."

My face in the street light glare would have showed my disappointment. I was looking forward to playing this scene on my mother a few more times. Besides, I enjoyed playing bridge with a partner as skilled as Thelma. "You're supposed to be my true love, yet you're dumping me," I whined.

Thelma grinned. "Bernard, Carl plays better bridge than you do and he has taken me out for dinner several times. He is a little more mature than you. I'm afraid that scene at your mother's house was our last togetherness."

Chastened, I returned to the house where my mother stood, if not actually with arms akimbo, but with an attitude clearly reflecting that stance. "Bernard, you can't be seriously interested in that woman. Why, she is almost my age. You can't marry somebody as old as your mother."

I had a role to play, and I played it fully. "Why not? She's a good-looking woman. She is college-educated, easy to talk to and is well paid as office manager for the County Democratic party."

My mother gave a good Republican snort. "But, you won't be able to have children. You will outlive her for twenty years just when you men need looking after." She glanced at my father who had joined the conversation.

"Mom, we can adopt children. I can always remarry if I'm widowed young. Thelma is my true love. You said you would most certainly like whomever I chose from taking advantage of that gift certificate. I am very grateful to whoever sent it to me. Without it, I would not be dating Thelma."

"I never expected this to happen," my mother said weakly sitting down.

"What do you mean by `expected', Mom?"

"I thought that when I got you that certificate you would pick somebody of your own age."

"So you did buy that certificate. You told me a lie."

"Only a small one, Bernard. I got the old goat to write the check, especially since it was half price. You know how he loves bargains."

My father spoke. "Pat, I told you that meddling like this would get you into trouble. Now that you have got Bernard dating, you should leave well enough alone. If he wants to marry Thelma, it's his choice. She seems a very nice person and I look forward to her visiting with us again."

"Bernard, please promise me you won't marry Thelma Blakely."

My mother was near to tears, so I relented. "Well, Mom, I'm very fond of her, but I don't know if it will go any further. She might not have me."

"Of course she'll have you," my mother shrieked, rising to her feet. "She'll leap at the chance. A young goat is better than an old goat any day."

"Well, if I decided not to marry her, would you promise to quit scheming to get me married?"