A Time to Dance

There is a time for everything, whatever Mother may think

As far back as I can remember, Medellin Greenbrook was a name associated with a bad reputation. She was a dancer... but a racy dancer, according to Mom and her friends. A belly dancer, a salsa dancer, a pole dancer! Of course, Mom and her friends also said my buddy Mike was a psycho, even though he was part of 4H, had a paper route since he was nine years old, and always called grown-ups "sir" and "Ma'am." Bluntly put, Mom's judgments were suspect.

Nonetheless, when she found out I had visited the festival where Medellin had danced in the main tent, she lost her ever-loving, prejudiced, bigoted mind!

"You want to end up like that little pervert you run around with, that 'Mike' character?! That woman is trash, and if people know you're associated in any way with her— even just watching her writhe and slither around the place— you'll wind up with a bad name yourself. Don't you bring a cloud over this family, young man!"

What she didn't know is that I had caught Medellin's eye at the festival. A short, furious, and passionate courtship followed, and we found ourselves married within a month. "I can't wait for you to meet my mother," I told her with a glint in my eye.

It was with a savage sort of vengeance that I opened the door and ushered my new bride across my boyhood threshold.

"What's that noise?" she called from the parlor. We walked right into the parlor, her holding my hand and wearing that knowing little smile that Mom said was "lascivious." We stopped behind the couch and waited for Mom to turn around. I grinned like the psychopath she always accused Mike of being and introduced the two women of my life.

"Meet your new daughter-in-law, Mom!"



NOTES: ▶︎

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the phrase "What's that noise"