Matt pulls the Lambretta into the driveway, like Dennis Hopper in Easy Rider. He drops the kickstand, sliding off the scooter to make it easier for Bernie to dismount behind him.

Michael is out of sight, though not of sound. The big man's snoring can be heard through the open window by the porch. He is apparently sacked out on the couch.

There's no Lola visible, either, though there's the eventual sound of a baby crying, somewhere inside the house.

The little one's grass attack is forgotten as the strange, laden vehicle stops right by his house, and he hovers warily a few feet from the fence to watch. As Bernie dismounts and takes off her helmet, he moves slightly closer, and then runs to press against the fence, grinning. "Bernie!" he yells, and lifts his arms, sword in the air. Bernie grins back, and leans down to scoop him up over the fence. "Hiya, Sam! Nice sword y'got there..."

Naomi looks up again as the Lambretta's noise doesn't subside and actually gets louder when it pulls into the driveway. The upward arch of her eyebrows towards the 'mysterious figures' on the vehicle is quickly smoothed over as she focuses in. Inside the house besides the sounds of a baby crying are the sounds of some pans clanking. Dinner comes a little later than usual tonight. With little Sam shouting out the runaway sister's name, Naomi closes up the magazine. "Bernie?"

Michael's snoring eases, a grunt the only other sign that the clatter has roused him. It lasts only a moment and he again begins snoring, a little softer this time.

Matt pulls off his helmet wearing a wistful, sad, expression and a half-smile on his face. Penny's crying winds down somewhat, and then stops entirely. Perhaps she was being changed. Certainly, Lola can't hear what's going on out there, not quite yet.

Sam clings a little to his sister. "I got it for my birthday last week! You're late. An' there isn' any cake left. What'd ya bring me??" Bernie laughs, giving him a squeeze, and lowers him back to the ground. "Oh, you think I shoulda brought you somethin', huh? I'm not enough? Well, I'll take a look when we're inside an' see 'f there's somethin' hidin' in here, a'ight?" She gestures toward the scooter's load, and then turns her attention to Naomi, with a slightly sheepish grin. "Hey. Mind if we come in?" She reaches over to unlatch the gate, and signals for Matt to go on in.

Matt nods, absently, and steps inside the gate. He seems nervous, the thought of meeting Bernie's family suddenly more real than he had expected.

Naomi stands up with an awkward sort of movement. For all her work at being the graceful lady, there is still some clumsiness to be kinked out. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it and nods in answer. Then, she turns and opens up the front door. "Mom! She's back!" The slightly frazzled looking woman in the kitchen glances up from her sauteed onions towards the front door. "Who...?" Naomi's face breaks into a bit of a smile as she holds open the door. "Who else? Bernie!" The clanking pan stops, followed by the sound of running water and then some hurried walking. Not before long, the older woman shows up at the door to see what she's been waiting for.

This announcement, Lola /does/ hear, given as Penny's stopped wailing in her ear. It's hard to gallop down stairs while holding a baby, but she manages it, ending up right behind their mother, practically bouncing.

Michael grunts again, startled a little at the yelling going on right over his head. Bleary-eyed, he sits up and rubs the muss of bed (couch?) hair on his head.

Bernie closes the gate, wincing a little at Naomi's fanfare. That wasn't quite how she'd meant to show up... but, can't be helped. She takes hold of Sam's swordless hand with one of hers, and reaches for one of Matt's with the other as she follows Naomi to the door, looking a tad nervous again herself. "Hi, Mom," she greets her, passing over the youngest kid, and grins a little, "...so... what's for dinner?"

Michael stands up in time to greet those coming in the door. He takes a moment to straighten his shirt, as well as his pants, and clears his throat. Bernice," he says, somewhat gruffly, and with vague surprise.

"Well if I had known you were going to be here, I would have made a little more of the mashed potatoes..." The mother breaks off the idle chatter before gathering herself and her daughter up in a hug. Naomi hovers about on the side with a grin. "Steak and all that good stuff, Bernie," the little sister puts in. Meanwhile, her eyes go to Matt. "Who's your friend?"

"/Bernie/, why didn't you /ca--/" Lola breaks off as she spies Matt, and contents herself with smiling as if she hadn't done it in months.

Matt offers a free hand, stammering "ah...Matt, Matt Fulton, Mum. Pleased ta meet ye." His accent is thicker than usual--nerves.

Michael's eyes eventually find Matt, and they harden a bit, the young man getting an exceptionally hard, critically look.

Bernie hugs her mother back, before blushing very slightly and running a hand through her curls as she apologises, "...sorry, I kina wan'ed to, y'know, s'prise you and stuff. Promise not t' eat too much of th' potatoes..." She turns a suddenly rather more nervous smile on her father, and gives him a slight wave. "Hi..." Unsure what else to say, she trails off before something occurs to her. "Um. C'n we come in?"

Michael reluctantly gives way, allowing the two to come in further. His eyes don't leave MAtt, however, at least not yet.

Naomi finds herself a little more self-conscious as she realizes what a mess she must look like. She's loathe to leave the doorway, but a solution comes quickly to mind. "We're just going to stand out here and let dinner get cold?" Bernie's mother breaks off the hug and straightens herself up. She nods to the returned and her guest, before ushering the rest of the family inwards. "Dinner is about ready." A short, speculative look passes between her and Michael before she heads back to the kitchen to dish up the grub. Naomi pushes Sam inside before moving back out the grab the plastic sword on the lawn.

You paged Ivy with 'What's the mom's name? o.o'.

From afar, Ivy ers. ...Karen.

Matt smiles, on his best behavior. After shaking with Naomi, he offers the hand to Michael. "Sir. Oi've 'eard a great deal about ye, all good, an' all true, apparently."

Softly, looking, briefly, almost a little shy, Lola gives Matt a smile. "Hi. I'm Lola. And this is Penny." She quickly gets out of the way of the mass ingress.

Michael glances quickly from Matt to Bernie, but his eyes are never off the young man long. "Yeah?" he says, quietly--for Michael, anyway. "Where ya from?"

"Naomi, can you help set the table?" "Sure Mom!" Naomi ducks into the house around her father before dropping off the Seventeen magazine on the table in the living room. Knives, forks, plates and napkins make their way onto the rather large and long dining table with the help of the two youngest.

Bernie heads in, giving her older sister a briefly wary glance before geting distracted by the baby. Her eyes widen a little. "Damn, Lola, she's gettin' big!" she exclaims, tickling the tot under the chin. She looks toward Matt and her father a moment before calling to her mother, "...hey, Mom. D'you need a hand with anythin'?"

Matt glances toward Bernie, then back to Michael. "East End, London. Livin' in Washington, now."

Lola gives Bernie a perfectly innocent look back, and then smiles, giving her a brief, half-embarrassed hug, around the baby. Who gurgles at the tickling.

The mother herself hoists a couple of large platters onto the dining table, as her profession is indeed waitressing. "Oh no dear... just sit on down with your friend Matt." It seems the family has pulled off pretty well without an extra pair of hands but it's not like she's unwelcome. "Well if you /really/ want to help, you can get the ice tea out of the fridge," Naomi quips on her way past Bernie. There's a short pause, before the little sister whispers into Bernie's ear.

You whisper "You look great, by the way." to Bernie.

"London, hmm?" Michael says, nodding once. Finally, his critically study seems to end. Or, at least, he relents enough not to stare openly at Matt. "That's a long ways. Hope you guys are hungry. I am."

Bernie gains a shade of pink at Naomi's whisper, but smiles at her on her way to the fridge. "Thanks," she replies quietly, "...lotsa walkin', an' stuff." She carries the pitcher of tea to the table, where everyone seems to moving into an accustomed seat. Apparently, not everyone is here, since there are two extra seats. "...Where're Bobert an' Clarence?" she queries as she pulls a chair out.

You paged Bernie with 'Where is Bobert, anyway? o.O'.

Bernie pages: Some sort of school trip. Clarence is probably at work or a rave or something. ;)

Lola, as she puts Penny carefully in the high chair, volunteers, "Clarence is trying to fix someone's car. I think he's just gonna break it worse, but don't tell him I said that."

"Bobert..." There's a slight pause as the mother sets down a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes, "Is on a school trip." Cornbread, and of course the steamed vegetables. After a few minutes, Naomi reappears with a cool purple spaghetti strap shirt and some shorts on. She seats herself beside Sam. "Nah, he'd have to be lucky to just break it." A quiet giggle follows up as Naomi gets a quick look from Mother.

"I like that shirt," Sam declares, trying to reach across the table and snag the cornbread, and having to almost stand in the chair to get anywhere close, "'s purple. My truck is purple. I got it for my birthday. Hey, you're inside now, what'd y'bring me, Bernie?" Bernie laughs, and baps her little brother gently on the hand. "Sit down an' ask someone t' pass th' bread 'f you want it. An' be patient, we'll look after dinner, a'ight?" She offers the seat beside her, usually Bobert's, to Matt, and nods a little disappointedly to her mother. "...'s it, like, a back-at-ten trip, or's he gone for like a week?"

Michael settles into his seat at the head of the table, grabbing the mashed potatoes first and piling a mountain not unlike that of Richard Dreyfuss' in Close Encounters. Only now does he get a good look at Bernie, so preoccupied was he with Matt. "Damn, girl. Look at you."

Matt slips into the chair next to Bernie's, and his eyes widen at the amount of food placed on the table. "Cor, Books. Ye said ye had a big family, but Oi 'ad no idea yer mum set sooch 'andsome jim on th'cain."

Naomi smiles over at Sam and resists the urge to stare over at Matt. She busies herself with serving up Sam's portions before herself while Mother moves in to set a few pitchers of ice tea out in strategic spots on the table. She smiles at Matt's words. "Having the food is just half the challenge. Cooking it, well, I had some help before Penny decided she wanted huggies." Then she adds the lighter, "You look great Bernice. What's your secret, mm? Oh, Sam... I don't want you dropping the cauliflower under the table again, got it?"

Penny gurgles innocently. Lola, as she sits, casts the occasional glance at Matt but carefully doesn't stare. "She's making sure I know enough to be able to feed an army, eventually." "No, just to feed your father," the mother inserts with a loving, playful smile.

Michael,as if proud of the fact, sticks his barrell chest out and makes approval grunting/growling noises.

Sam apparently had no idea his mother had caught on to that trick. Possibly it would've worked better if the family had a dog. He nods silently, putting on his best behaviour. Of course, when he thinks no one's looking, he tries hiding the cauliflower under his plate. "I'm gonna be in kinnergarden this year," he announces randomly, between bites of meat and cornbread.

Bernie flashes Matt a grin, and nods. "Well. Now y'know why everythin' I know how t' cook has so much leftovers..." Her mom's comment draws a blush, and she looks down at her plate. "Oh... lotsa walkin' around mostly, there's this farmhouse that's like twelve miles outta town, an' I go back an' forth between 'em a lot, an' stuff..." She glances up, and giggles at her parents. Lola says, helping Penny out, "Dad /is/ an army."

"/Twelve/ miles?" Naomi looks up at Bernie incredulously, her knife halfway through her steak. Her mother smirks at Lola before she sets herself down alongside Michael and dishes some vegetables and rice onto her own plate. "How long's that take to walk?" cuts in Naomi again. Walking? Who walks in LA?

Matt, overwhelmed, watches as plates and bowls of food seems to pass just beyond his grasp, from one Rosenberg to another. "Um." He manages, intelligently, too slow to keep up with the conversation, and looking very much the fifth wheel.

"Takes 'bout two anna half, three hours; sometimes I c'n get it down t' like an hour anna half if I," Bernie stops suddenly, and finishes a tad lamely with, "...run." She glances sideways at Matt a second, and starts making sure the dishes go by him properly. "...'s only like fifteen minutes on th' scooter, though."

Matt nods in agreement, and makes very little conversation through dinner. Mentally preapring himself for the grilling he is sure to receive from Bernie's parents.

"Run?" Naomi gains even more of an incredible look. "Wow." The mother notices Matt lagging behind a bit and offers the pan of cornbread towards him. "So you're from London... what brought you over to the US? On vacation?" Grilling, wouldn't quite be the word, but inquiry sure.

[I (Naomi and the Mom) had to cut out here, but to get the rest of this log, go to Bernie's side of things at http://rii.twu.net/logs/gm/ to find out! It's in the July 2001 section.]