Back in the Saddle

Meeting the Parents

Karl's POV:

I run inside quickly, not wanting Nick to have to wait on me for too long. Before I go upstairs, I tell Kristen where I'm headed so she can let Phil know. I have to ignore the knowing look she gives me after seeing how excited I am about going to Nick's: I hate how well she knows me.

"I can't believe you're ditching me again," George says dramatically, pretending to be upset when he and I both know that he would much rather stay here doing absolutely nothing than going out.

"Get over it. Just invite Clay over if you get lonely."

"Maybe I will," he mumbles and pulls out his phone, most likely to text Clay.

"Just don't let him sleep in my bed."

"You're deluded if you think I'm letting him sleep in my bed," he scoffs and I burst out laughing.

I just shake my head and continue to pack my bag. Pretty soon I've filled it with all the necessities: a toothbrush, toothpaste, pajamas, clothes for work tomorrow, cologne, a charger, and a pillow. Then I deem myself ready to join Nick back in the car.

But I'm stopped by Toby in the hall. "Are you going somewhere, Karl?" he asks me, eyeing the duffel bag I have slung over my shoulder.

"Uh, I'm going to Nick's house," I mutter, hoping he doesn't ask questions.

"Oh?" he says with the same knowing expression aunt Kristen had.

"I'm leaving now."

"Bye! Have fun, but not too much fun!" he laughs, waving at me from the top of the stairs while I go out the front door.

I go back out to the car with the same pace I used when coming inside, eager to get back to Nick's. I'm not as eager to meet his moms, but I figure that nothing that bad can happen and I have to meet them at some point anyway.

"You ready?" the ravenette asks as I get back in the truck.

"As I'll ever be," I respond, making him smile a little.

As we drive the short distance to his house, I think about how I've never seen it because Clay always picks him up before me. I try to imagine it: the details, the decorations, the design. It proves to be much more difficult to think about the appearance of a house you've never seen than you might think.

By the time we pull up to the house, I've pretty much given up on envisioning it, but the actual thing is much better than anything I came up with: it's two stories with a good amount of windows, a flat driveway, and a well-tended garden. The porch isn't large, but in the little space there is a rocking chair and a bench that is decorated with cute pillows and dark cushions. The house itself has bluish-gray wood that pairs nicely with the gray brick and black two-car garage.

Nick parks by the mailbox, most likely so his moms can get out of the driveway if they need to. Still staring at the beautiful house, I don't realize that he's getting out until I hear the door shut, meaning I have to hurry out of the car--lugging my bag along with me--to catch up with him.

When I reach him, he's already unlocking the front door, and I feel my breath seize in my chest as I remember that I'm about to meet his parents. You can do this, Karl. Parents love you, there's no reason these two should be any different.

Waiting on the other side, in the living room that is just off the front door, are two women, both of which are extremely familiar to me. One of them is wearing a black tank top that shows off her muscular arms, her short black hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and her sharp blue eyes staring at us. The other, whose legs are resting on her wife's, is wearing a t-shirt that looks two sizes too big for her and has her medium length brown hair pulled into a side braid. Her kind brown eyes are also watching us at the door.