That Blue-Eyed Boy

12. BUILDING A FUTURE

POV:  BEAU

"Your parents are going to hate me." Stella frets, covering her face with her hands after I've parked outside my mom's house. She's clutching my hand like a lifeline, keeping me rooted to the seat of my truck. Tomorrow's Christmas Eve, and Stella promised she'd spend Christmas with me.

"My mother will love you. She's been asking me for years when I'm going to bring a girl home to meet her." I sigh, glancing at my childhood home. It's full of good memories and bad, and I'm honestly kind of nervous about introducing Stella to my family. Almost six months we've been together, and the only person in my family she's met is Gunnar.

It's only been six months, but I already know that this girl was made specifically for me. She's funny, caring, charming, loving, brilliant, and beyond beautiful. I've never seen anyone care or throw so much of herself into her classes, and then still have time for a social life. She can cook anything I can imagine, draw anything she can imagine, and let me tell you that she has one hell of an imagination in the bedroom. I can't get enough of this strong, independent woman who could be running the world right now if she chose to, but by some miracle she chose me. God, I love this woman.

"You mean you don't just bring every random girl you meet home to your mother?" She teases, kissing my cheek and bringing me out of my thoughts about her, easing my nerves, even though I should be the one easing hers.

"Absolutely not." I smile, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before I finally climb out of the truck, dragging her with me. I grab both of our duffels and clutch her hand as I open the front door and am greeted with a hug from my mother, aunt, and grandmother. Great. I've just walked into a woman infestation. I knew my aunt moved in about a year ago because she and my mom are both middle-aged divorcees who are going on an anti-men kick, and I wish beyond anything that Gunnar was here to be the buffer before Mom and me.

"Hi, Mom." I mutter, taking in the martini glasses on the glass coffee table that's new. Actually, glancing around the interior space of the house, everything has been updated and refurbished. Probably using Dad's credit card. I can almost feel my fingers turning blue from the death grip Stella has on my hand, but I gently tug her from where she's hiding behind me, so she can meet my mother.

"And who might this be? You didn't mention a girlfriend when we discussed the dinner menu last week!" My mother exclaims gripping my shoulders as she takes in Stella – more like she's sizing her up. I squeeze Stella's hand in an encouraging gesture, but I'm not sure she noticed.

I glance behind me at an extremely red-faced and embarrassed Stella, and decide I probably need to introduce them. "Mom, this is Stella Hawkley, the absolute love of my life. Stel, this is my mother, Dorothy."

"It's nice to meet you, Dorothy." Stella whispers, and I've never seen this girl be shy in the six months I've known her, but for some reason my mother makes her nervous. I glance down at the death grip she has on my fingers when my mom pulls her into a hug, and chuckle before retrieving my girlfriend from her grasps.

"Mom, don't scare her away."

"Oh! Sorry dear. It's just been, well, forever, since Beau has brought home a girl and I'm just so excited to meet you!" Mom smiles, the crinkles not really reaching her eyes though, finally releasing Stella and allowing her to return to her place beside me.

While I allow blood to return to the tips of my fingers, I wrap my hand around her waist, tugging her close as I introduce her to my Aunt Presley and Grandma Rose. They both greet her with warm smiles and a hug, while I take in the renovations mom has done in the last year. Our house used to have such a nice little homey feel to it, but now Mom's turned the entire back wall of the house into glass, has turned the kitchen into a chef's kitchen even though she only knows how to make steamed veggies in the microwave, and redone the carpet floors into expensive-looking hardwood. Not to mention the fact that the old brown leather couches that had so many childhood memories are missing, and clean, white plush couches sit in their place. I frown as I imagine what my room could possibly look like, praying that she hasn't touched it as I gently guide Stella down the hallway and to my old room. I push the door open, only to find that everything has been touched. The framed pictures I had of various friends and family hanging on my walls have all been placed in a box on my dresser that is completely void of the collection of arrowheads that grandpa and I would find when we'd go fishing at the river. I start to panic when I don't see them, and release Stella to go maker herself at home on a gray comforter that is definitely not the blue one I left here. I dig through the box of my things that has been left on my dresser, still not finding the arrowheads.