Ruin (boyxboy)

Meet the Parent

Holy shit. I was taking a guy home. Somebody start a fire in Hell — because it's officially frozen over.

-Austin-

"You nervous?" I asked as we pulled onto Fauntleroy Way in downtown Seattle. It boasted of only twelve houses in the little gated community meaning we had mega privacy.

 I swear my dad had cameras everywhere, even at the end of the street just in case someone sketchy wanted to get a view one of us in the pool. Not that they could, there was enough landscaping to make the house its own private resort, not to mention the fact that we had over a half mile of private beach. You know, if you could call a rocky coast a beach. But every summer we had sand brought in from the tropics. Just to make it look legit.

 "A little." Alan sighed and looked out the window. "So which house is yours?"

 "Everything you see on this side of the street towards the water? It's all ours."

 "Huh?"

 "A main house, two cottages, a few tennis courts, a man-made pond, and then that house over there…" I pointed to the far end of the property as the gate opened making it easier for him to see. "…is where my Oma stays when she visits."

 "Uh, Oma?"

 "Grandma," I corrected myself. "Sorry, my mom was half Dutch, so when I was little, my grandma was Oma."

 Alan grinned and then sucked in a sharp breath as the second gate opened to the main house. I drove through and tried to imagine what it would look like through his eyes. Obviously I'm aware that it's huge, but as sad as it sounds, it's normal for me.

 There's at least six thousand square feet, not the largest mansion in the world, all glass windows with sharp angles, allowing for the sun to shine through. It was white and had been remodeled from its original brick form in 1927 to look like an architect's paradise. There were exactly seventeen steps leading to the massive fifteen-foot tall oak entry, and just as I pulled the car to a stop, the butler walked out and opened Alan's door.

 “Sir, we've been expecting you."

 "Ronald." I nodded my head in his direction.

 He grinned at me. At eighty-two, he was a force to be reckoned with. He wasn't really our butler anymore, since technically he'd retired twenty years ago, but my dad hadn't the heart to let him go, so now he greeted guests, brewed beer in the cottage my dad let him live in rent-free, and basically kept the house running since my mother's death.

 "Mr. Carlile." Ronald clapped his hands on my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug. "It's been too long, how are you?"

 He knew I was sick.

 But he never treated me any differently. He just refused to discuss it — I understood though — everyone in his life was gone. He and my brother had been very close. He'd taken Anthony's death really hard and I knew mine would be just something else that might cause his heart to finally give out.

 "Good, I feel great," I lied and hugged him back. "Dad home?"

 "In the study waiting." Ronald smiled and clapped twice.

 Two staff members ran down the stairs to grab our stuff.

 I held out my hand to Alan. "Ready to meet my dad?"

 "Holy crap." He wiped his hands on his jeans before latching onto me. "I feel like I'm about to meet the president or something."

 I threw my head back and laughed. "Trust me, it's 'or something'. He's not that intimidating. Promise." I could tell he didn't believe me. His eyes kept getting wider and wider as we walked farther into the house.