The Bolt from the Blue (Working Title)

Chapter 17- Susan and Ralph

Chapter 17- Susan and Ralph

That weekend, John visited his parents: his mother, Susan, had been making sure that she saw him at least once a month since Benji died. He arrived, and even as she opened the door, he knew that she knew something was different. And she knew that he knew that she knew. She at least had the courtesy to wait until John was sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in his hand before she said "You look different," her tone one step away from accusatory.

"I shaved." John said, trying to make it sound like a guess instead of a carefully prepared counter.

"That's not it." She was pinching her chin with her thumb and forefinger, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "You've been sleeping better?" She asked John.

John nodded, "Much. Yep. That must be it."

"And who's responsible for that?"

John almost dropped his mug. His mother seemed to have passed on any acute sense of embarrassment or propriety to her son and had none left for herself.

"I am, mum; I've been exercising more."

"Is that what kids call it now?" Her face was utterly deadpan- Susan Zammit could make a rock wince from mortification.

At that point, Ralph, John's father, walked into the kitchen and John had never been so happy to see him. "Hi dad!" He jumped up and enthusiastically shook his hand.

"John was just telling me about his new boyfriend."

"No, I wasn't."

"You've got a boyfriend?" Ralph asked.

John paused; he didn't want to explicitly lie, but he also didn't want to talk to his parents. Of course, in his silence, he gave himself away anyway.

Ralph's expression softened, "That's good."

"What's his name?" Susan looked far too pleased with herself.

"Can we please talk about something else?" This only very occasionally worked: most of the time, his parents ploughed on regardless.

This was one of those times, "Is he in Service too?"

John very quickly tried to summon up an alternate topic of conversation they could pursue, but drew a blank- he didn't listen to what his parents said enough to know what they might want to talk about other than himself; this realisation cast some alarming aspersions on his character, but he'd have to worry about that later. For now, he would have to relent. "No. He's a student."

Ralph's curiosity was piqued, "Master's?"

"Nope, just plain old undergrad." John took a sip of his tea and put on a stupid smile, "Guess I'm a cradle-robber."

"How old is he?" Enquired Susan.

And so John recited Sam's life story; or at least the parts that he knew; or at least the parts that he knew that he thought Sam wouldn't mind him sharing. After he had recounted everything, Susan began to demand to meet him, "What's he doing at Christmas?"

John thought back to their conversation on the first date and decided to lie, "He's with his family."

"Really? They didn't sound close to me." John had not said this out loud; his mother had just extrapolated it with pinpoint accuracy from God knows what.

"Well, Christmas is just one of those times, you know." John thought this an appallingly vague sentiment, but it seemed to satisfy his parents.

"Well, we'll have to meet him before then, then." Susan persisted.