Why I Need You

Chapter Thirteen

"So, I've been meaning to ask you something," Patrick said as we strolled down the aisle. He tossed a package of Oreo's into the shopping cart, which I proceeded to remove and replace with Fig Newtons.

"Less sugar," I explained with a falsely angelic smile when he glared at me. He giggled, making me laugh in turn and sending us into a fit of mutual laughter.

Eventually we recovered and continued our shopping. "You were saying...?"

"Oh, yeah," he began again, studying his rather unremarkable shoes. "Well, my dad invited me to spend Christmas with our family, like every year, and I, uh... Did you want to come with?"

"You want to introduce me to your family?" I asked, slightly shocked as this had come without warning.

"Well... yeah, I guess," he replied, stopping. I halted as well as he looked back up at me. "Do you want to meet them?"

"I..."

I wasn't sure. I didn't doubt that his family would be kind, since he had talked about them enough before. His mom and dad had gotten divorced when he was eight, and his dad remarried and had another son. He had a full sister as well. Patrick was close to his siblings, and he hadn't ever spoken against his step mother.

So why was I hesitating?

They might not like me. I was hardly social; usually coming off as quiet and introverted. And I was hardly musical. Well, I took piano through grade school and high school, but I hadn't touched one in two or three years. I don't think I lost my knack for playing, but I just never got to practice after marrying Shawn. And what would they think if they knew about him? Patrick was living his life patiently and wisely, and I had married straight out of high school and ended up physically and emotionally abused for my foolishness. I decided prematurely that I wouldn't fit in with his family, not at all.

"It's fine if you don't want to, really, I understand why you-"

"No, no," I rushed to console Patrick, who looked far too disappointed. "I'd love to come. I'm sure it will be great." I flashed a smile that felt genuine enough.

Patrick mirrored it, but was probably more sincere than I. "Awesome."

We made our way down the aisle and into the frozen food section, where Patrick tried to slip a pint of ice cream into the cart. I cleared my throat menacingly, earning a guilty look from him.

"Please?" he pleaded, pulling out the puppy-dog eyes.

"How about yogurt?" I suggested like any good suburban mother.

He made a face. "That's hardly as good as ice cream."

"Frozen yogurt?" I replied.

He broke character and laughed, grinning brilliantly. He returned the ice cream to its shelf and replaced its spot in the cart with black cherry frozen yogurt.

"You're relentless," he said, shaking his head and not letting up on his smile.

"It's my job, darling," I answered, patting him on the top of his head. We had to stop to catch our breath from laughing so hard.

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I walked next to Patrick (but partly behind him because I felt safer that way), shivering both from the cold and my nervousness. I tried to calm myself down, but my anxiety level shot upward instead as my palms grew clammy and I struggled to get breaths in and out. They would probably hate me. They would ask me to leave, and talk about me when I had gone. "Hardly pretty." "She barely talked." They would probably think I was insane for not dating their wonderful, talented son and brother.