In College . . ..

“Back in college, we were always given two forks at our place settings,” Adam informed them all with an air of superiority. “And two glasses, one for water and one for milk, or tea, or whatever beverage we chose to have with our meals.”

Hop Sing nodded enthusiastically, a big grin on his face as he poured Adam a glass of wine.

“How interesting,” Ben replied, a wistful expression on his face. “Marie always insisted on the table being set that way, but after she . . .” he cleared his throat, “after she passed away, I figured . . . well, since we’re just a bunch of men living on a ranch, there’s really no need to get fancy. Unless of course, we’re entertaining guests.”

Hop Sing’s smile wilted a little, but he continued serving the meal without pause.

“Well, you know, Pa, it wouldn’t hurt for us to practice proper etiquette, even if we are a bunch of men living on a ranch.”

Hop Sing nodded approvingly, a beatific smile relighting his face. 

Joe made a rude pfffft-ing sound. If Adam didn’t shut up about all that boring college stuff, Joe was going to puke all over the fancy tablecloth. 

Adam glanced speculatively at Joe, “Well, most of us are men, anyway.”

After rolling his eyes, Joe turned his attention to Hoss who was gazing dreamy-eyed at Adam, looking as if he was actually interested in everything their older brother was spouting off about.  Joe suspected Hoss wasn’t paying a lick of attention to what Adam was talking about, though. More likely he was dreaming of the apple pies that had been baking all afternoon, probably dazed by the aroma that still lingered throughout the house.

“In college they . . ..”

“Pa, can I be excused?”

“May I be excused,” Adam corrected.

“Oh, if Adam’s gonna be excused then I guess I’ll stay.” Joe looked at his pa, his green eyes wide, seeming completely innocent.

Ben raised a dark eyebrow at his two sons. “Both of you finish your meals.”

Adam glared at Joe, who smirked impishly back at him.

“Joseph . . ..”

“Yes sir,” Joe slouched in his chair and resumed swirling his mashed potatoes around with his spoon.

“As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Adam continued, “they always put a slice of lemon in the water. Perhaps you should try it sometime, Hop Sing.” He smiled graciously up at the small man hovering over him. “They say it helps the food settle. Keeps you from getting stomach pains.”

The smile Hop Sing had been wearing all day suddenly turned into something resembling an angry glare.

Ben chuckled nervously. “Well, son, we’ve never had any problem with that around here.”

Hoss and Joe nodded agreement, each turning their adoring faces for Hop Sing to see, both boys jumping at the opportunity to get back in the man’s good graces. All week he’d been scrambling around, working his fingers off to ensure everything was perfect for Number One Son’s homecoming. The only time he’d paid any attention to Hoss or Joe was to scold them for making messes, or eating something he'd made for 'Mistah Adam'.

For weeks they'd all been looking forward to Adam's return, but from the moment he'd gotten off the stage that afternoon, he’d been nothing but uppity, trying to show how much smarter and more mature he was now. So far, all he’d done was boast about how much better everything was back east, and how . . . ‘primitive’ . . . everything was here.

Joe couldn’t help getting a little riled with the way Adam was talking. He had a feeling that Hoss was starting to get tired of it too, but like always, he was doing a better job of hiding it.  Pa had just sat there and patiently listened to Adam carry on and on and on . . . without ever seeming the least little bit offended, although Joe had noticed his pa’s jaw muscles twitching from time to time, and that vein on his forehead was starting to pop out, which was never a good sign. Joe wondered how a fella could manage to get himself a fancy education and end up even dumber than he was before.

“When I was in college . . ..”

“When I was in college,” Joe mimicked him, in a less than flattering imitation.

Ben coughed into his napkin then cast a stern gaze on his youngest. “Joseph . . ..”

“Sorry Pa, but can’t we talk about somethin’ besides Adam’s dumb ol’ college?”

“They also taught us that children should be seen and not heard.”

Ben smiled grimly, obviously struggling for patience. “Yes, well, you know that’s not how we do things around here, son.”

Joe stuck his tongue out at Adam.

Adam rolled his eyes at Joe, then turned back to their pa with a haughty expression. “Like I said, it never hurts to practice proper etiquette."

Joe had heard enough. Without a second thought, he spooned up a glob of mashed potatoes and flung them across the table.

“JOSEPH!”

“Sorry, Pa.” Truth was, he wasn't really sorry, and even less sorry when he noticed that Hop Sing didn’t seem to mind.

Adam wiped the glob from between his eyes, and fixed a fiery glare on his baby brother. "Cute Joe," he said, gritting his teeth.

“Yep, that’s what all the little gals say,” Hoss told him with a great big grin. A moment later another glob of mashed potatoes was launched across the table, hitting Hoss squarely in the center of his forehead.

“JOSEPH FRANCIS CARTWRIGHT!”

Apparently nobody was listening because now mashed potatoes were flying back and forth from both sides of the table. Then a biscuit went sailing toward Adam, hitting its mark with a thunk before skipping off the top of his head.

“You little . . ..”

”ADAM!”

“Sorry Pa.” Ben didn't think he was too sorry, however, because he immediately picked up a half eaten biscuit from his plate and lobbed it at Joe. 

“Boys . . ..”

Joe caught the biscuit, dipped it in his gravy and fired it back.

Ben cleared his throat loudly, “Boys . . ..” and watched as Adam scooped another spoonful of potatoes from the serving bowl.  “Adam!” He pounded his fist on the table, causing the silverware to clatter and water to slosh over the side of a pitcher, yet still his sons ignored him.

Mashed potatoes flew back and forth and biscuits soared through the air, then peas were added to the mix. Finally Ben had all he could take; he stood up and took a deep breath, ready to let loose in a volume that was sure to draw their complete attention. “BOY—“ he was cut off when a blob of mashed potatoes landed in his open mouth and dribbled down his chin.

Joe winced, and Hoss’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, then the two astonished boys whipped their heads around to look with awe at their older brother.

Adam grinned back at them, giving them a two-fingered salute. Apparently Adam hadn’t lost his deadly aim while he’d been away in college. Well, Ben would just show him who was the better shot. He picked up a soggy biscuit that at some point had landed next to his plate and glared menacingly at each of his sons.

Hop Sing peered into the dining room then shook his head and quickly retreated back to the safety of the kitchen. He’d let them all have an earful later. Right now he was too glad that Mr. Adam was finally home.

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