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Show house/ 460 Brian had turned the question over to me. I was too shocked and hurt to reply. He spent the r e s t of the evening apologizing for his mother while I wept u n c o n t r o l l a b l y into the pillow. The next night he did not show up on the base-bus. I made reservations on the New Year's Eve f l i g h t to Salt Lake City. Brian reassured me throughout the r i d e to the a i r p o r t. "Go home and t a l k to her. You can handle her. I know you can." I refused to t a l k to her. "Then I ' l l get another leave - an emergency leave - and I ' l l come home and t a l k to her. We'll be married within a week, I promise you." I was g r a t e f u l to be back in my mother's livingroom. The duplex seemed l i k e home, at l a s t . I had no idea how I would explain my s i t u a t i o n to my p a r e n t s . I was not in the habit of discussing my personal problems with them, and decided to wait for Brian to do something. My mother and I sat before the l i g h t e d Christmas tree and talked despite the l a t e hour£ avoided the topic of :u\ marriage, l e t t i n g her b e l i e v e that Brian and I had been married in Mexico. Then she t o l d me t h a t B r i a n ' s mother had called her. "She accused you kids of l i v i n g t o g e t h e r - oh, she said awful things, J e a n n i e ." I didn't want to hear them, and my mother was not the type to delight in g o s s i p . "What did Daddy say? Did you t e l l him?" She nodded, half-ashamedly. Then her jaw stuck out. "Do you know what he said, honey? He s a i d , ' I t doesn't matter. Even if i t « s ta?ue. i t d o e s n ' t matter. We know s h e ' s a good g i r l, |