"Agreed." Enna Clark glanced at him nervously and hesitantly asked, "Bobby, if we're getting married, what do you think about it?"
Bobby first blinked his eyes, then flopped onto the bed, lazily looked at Enna Clark, and with an expression like he's looking at an idiot, said arrogantly, "Isn't it totally normal for my dad and my mummy to get married? What am I supposed to think? Just think like that."
He spoke so lightly, without any of the resistance he had shown toward Lyle Westbrook a couple of days ago.
That look of his, as natural as could be.
Bobby rolled over, then rolled back next to her, propped up his chin, and asked, "Where's the wedding going to be held? Are you planning to have a traditional wedding or a Western one? What about the wedding dress? When are you getting married? Now's the perfect time to get married, just in time for Little Slug to be your flower girl. Enna Clark, don't delay too much, the longer the night, the more dreams there are."
