CHAPTER NINE
Harris had talked with us hanging on to every word, but we could tell he was getting tired. Aunt Molly said "Let's eat then Harris can get a nap." Aunt Viv protested "But I'm dying to know about getting to Hollywood."

Aunt Molly said "We'll get Harris to tell us the rest another day." She brought a ham and potato salad from the frige, and two loaves of bread from the counter. The bread was home made and delicious. We remarked how good it was. "It's sourdough--Harris made it! Mrs. Bennett down the road gave Harris some starter stuff," Aunt Molly exclaimed proudly. Harris said "It's easy I'll teach you girls how to make it." He didn't know all us Maxwell women were genetically bread making deficient.

Aunt Viv said, "Bob and Molly, we've made reservations Friday at Fourche's restaurant--me and Jennifer and some other family are going to treat you two. You just show up around 6pm."

Friday night we got to Fourche's, an upscale seafood place, before Bob and Molly. I saw Aunt Viv go up to the hostess and talk to her. When Bob and Molly arrived, the place was crowded. We sat in the alcove waiting to be seated. After about 20 mninutes the hostess, on a signal from Aunt Viv, called out "Mr.and Mrs. Jorgenson? Your table is ready."
Nobody moved for a few seconds, then Aunt Molly jumped up as if she'd been stuck with a pin. Bob stood and held her elbow. "That's us," Molly said sounding surprised. "I've never been called Mrs. before." "Neither have I," Bob said dryly, and we all laughed.

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