The Blonde Cheerleader

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Pouty McPoutPout

My mother stared out in amazement as we pulled through the metal gates leading to the familiar compound. With her eyes widened at the surge of nostalgia, she unblinkingly observed each house that was built to form a semi-circle. The middle space was wide open and at the very far back was the path leading up to the huge field and way back to the farm.

"It feels so long," she muttered under her breath as I turned the engine off.

My reckless idea was to bring her here to my father's side of the family for the birthday party Hallie planned. I know this was a way to clear her head – something we both need to do – and although she didn't agree first, after she had traded her beer for a few glasses of wine, she finally said yes.

Now that I was completely sober, I'm now doubting the brilliancy of this plan. But hey, let me have a bit of fun for a while and who knows, this might actually work if we look past the fact that my father's relatives aren't too fond of her.

Oh boy, I should really lay off those lightbulb moments while under the influence.

Will and mom's relationship was already strained as it was so he only gave a grunt as a reply when we told him that we were going away for the weekend – lying about some woman's only spa in another town.

Not repeating the same mistake, I avoiding honking the horn as I opened my door after unbuckling my seatbelt. Stepping out, I thanked the lucky stars that the soil was perfectly dry, sparing me the horror of washing off another pair of expensive shoes.

Opening the back, I easily pulled out my duffel bag before I eyed the suitcase my mother brought. From the size of it, you would think that she was going to the Maldives, instead of this haystack. Groaning at the thing, I rolled my eyes before I took a step back.

Her problem, not mine.

I left the back open so could she work on those arm muscles and take out her suitcase herself as I walked up the creaky porch of my father's house. Ringing the old doorbell, it produced a worn out sound to warn him that his daughter has arrived.

Hearing the few locks behind rattle, the wooden door swung open and came my smiling dad. He took a step to the side so I could walk in as he spoke, "I thought Hallie was bluffing when she told me that you agreed to come here."

He took my bag from me as I shrugged, "Well, she was very convincing."

"She mentioned that you were bring someone," he said, peering behind me, "So is Evan-"

His question came to a halt when I heard my bag fall, creating a soft thud as it made contact with the ground. Looking over my shoulder, I realized what had elicited such a reaction from him – he finally noticed his former wife standing right outside his house.

Surprise!

Stepping back, he grabbed me by the shoulder to drag me along with him inside before he slowly closed the door, "You brought your mother?!"

"Okay, I should have called ahead," I said sheepishly.

He groaned, breaking the usual calm character he had on, as he buried his face in his hands, "I haven't seen your mother in years, we may talk on the phone but never in person," he whispered as if mom would be able to hear us from outside, "And do you know what could happen?"

"The worst thing that I could think of is your family shunning her," I replied truthfully, "But I don't think they will do that."

Something in his expression told me that I completely missed the mark. It took me a good look on his face before I realized what he was trying to imply, "You're afraid of falling in love with her again."