Chapter 7
Sam and I were sitting on the love-seat together in the living room, talking quietly about school and things like that, when we heard the from door open gently.
“Honey, I’m home!” my dad yelled to everyone in the house, not thinking (as usual) about potential company so he was letting go of the short leash on his insanity.
“Hey, we have a guest who’s staying for dinner tonight, John. Be nice,” Mom was used to greeting, warning and commanding in the same breath.
“Me? Nice? Never,” I could hear the tease in his voice. He was in a good mood tonight.
I hoped it would work in our favour.
“Where’s my baby girl? Is the guest her new man, because God knows I’d be happy for her?”
“In here, Dad!” I called.
“There you a-” he froze when he saw Sam and me on the chair. “Hey, Louise! I was right!”
“Surprise, surprise,” I heard her mutter in the kitchen.
“Soph, sweetie, are you going to introduce your boyfriend?”
“Oh, right! Um,” I scrambled up from Sam’s grasp only to pull him up with a yank that was apparently strong enough to fling him across the room. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! Sam, are you ok?”
“Yeah, but I thought the demonstration is over,” he appeared slightly dazed, rubbing his forehead as he walked towards me, wary this time.
“Oh honey, that wasn’t a demonstration, that was a girl throwing you across a room.”
“I never would have guessed...”
“Of course not, I just told you.”
He sighed as he gave up with a shake of his head.
“Daddy, this is Sam Davidson, my boyfriend. Sam, my dad, John Blackwater; head doctor at the Malibu hospital. So if you’re ever injured through a demonstration or otherwise you can go to him for free care. Right, Daddy?”
“Whatever makes you happy sweetie. Sam.” He shook Sam’s hand with a firm grip.
“Dr Blackwater.”
“Call me John, in this house I’m just John, or ‘honey’, or-“
“Dinner’s ready!” Louise shouted from the dining room.
“Or that, effective as of now. Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get us some munchies!”
“Dad, no. Just-just no.”
“But-“
“No,” I told him. I turned to Sam and decided to give him a little hint, “Warning, in this house, the girls make the rules.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Uh-huh,” I nodded in agreement. “C’mon, mom’s food is better when it’s hot.”
“Like something else I know…” Sam murmured as we walked into the dining room hand in hand and went to the eight seated table. “Is there any particular seating plan or something, ‘cause I don’t want to embarrass myself by sitting in your mom’s chair or anything.”
“Most guys would have said ‘your dad’s chair’, why did you say ‘mom’?”
“Because she’s scarier.”
“Now that, is true,” I know that from experience, though it wasn’t really my fault. “No, there isn’t a ‘seating plan’, we’re not that strict.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“Hmm…” I sat down in my usual seat (seating plan, riiight) on the left of the table in the middle; and Sam sat on my left.
“So…what’s for dinner?”
At that point my mother walked in with two plates filled with spaghetti bolognese and she placed the plates in front of us.
“Spaghetti bolognese, hm. Very…inventive.”
“Talk to her about it, she’s testing you,” I had to sort of tell him what to do because he looked a little puzzled.
“Um, well, there are lots of different variations of it, but in my opinion the original-“ he gestured to his plate, “-is the best.”
Mom came back into the room with her meal and dad’s, placing his at one end (the end on my left) and hers at the other (the one on my right). Dad had just come back into the room after going upstairs and changing into his gi. Just the sight of the gi brought back enough memories from earlier to make me blush.
“Anyone want a drink?” Mom asked casually, as if she wasn’t eyeing Sam at every opportunity.
“I’ll take a diet Coke, please,” Sam responded immediately.
“Me too mom, thanks,” I answered as I dug in to the everyday dish. I looked up at dad quickly before he could say anything. “Don’t you dare say ‘me three’, dad.”
“I wasn’t going to!”
I looked at him, staring him down. He never could stand my showdowns.
“Fine, I was,” he looked down at his plate. He looked up again. “Me three!”
My head just dropped down. “Why do I even bother trying to make you even remotely normal around people?”
“I have no idea. I’m perfect the way I am!” He shot his head back as if he were trying to flick his hair back.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I think I saw even Sam and mom trying to hide a chuckle as she brought in our cans and sat down.
“So, how’d you two love-birds meet then?” dad asked as he started eating.
“Um…at school?” I said, as if it wasn’t obvious.
He rolled his eyes at me. He’s going to pay for that later. “I got that. But how did you meet? What initiated the relationship?” He said through a mouthful of spaghetti.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, John.” my mom said as she finished her own bite. “It’s very unbecoming.”
“Sam asked me if I knew any ‘super-hot women’ for him and his friends Lewis and Callum to go out with, I said no I didn’t but he said yeah, I do…me,” I smiled up at him. “And it went from there.”
“Well, so long as you treat my baby girl right I have no problem with you,” he looked back down at his food but then lifted his head right up and pointed his fork at us. “Hey! How about we test your skills in the do-jo after dinner? Gotta keep sharp you know, plus, I wanna show Sam what will happen if he treats you wrong…or gets you pregnant.”
“Dad!”
“John!”
“Sam!” Sam swivelled his head round as if searching for a reason that his name was called out.
Me and mom just looked at dad in unison.
“What? I’m just saying the truth.” He gave Sam a pointed glare, letting him know just how serious he was.
“Dr Blackwater, I’m sorry if that’s what you think of me, but I doubt Sophia would let me do that until we’re at least 25.” Sam tried to reassure him and I couldn’t tell if it worked or not.
“Dad, you know me. You know I wouldn’t do that to you and mom. Not until you’re at least 55.”
“People! Can we please just calm down and enjoy dinner? And if you want to talk about that then I suggest you do it outside or in your stupid do-jo,” she said angrily.
“Hey!” dad, Sam and I shouted together. (Unintentionally!)
