Jaded

[42] The Family Sherlock

I can't believe it's already Saturday.

An hour from now I'll have to hop into Rusty and pick up Atty so we can 'meet' his parents.

My stomach hasn't settled down since I woke up this morning. Is it nerves? Excitement? I don't know. But if it's nerves, then what is there to be nervous about? I have no clue.

I fiddle with the hem of my denim skirt and twirl once in front of my dressing table mirror. Am I supposed to dress for a date? For a funeral? For church?

Does it matter?

Oh god. The more I look at it the more I hate this outfit. What was I thinking? Lilac is usually not my color anyways so choosing this sweater was a bad idea to begin with.

I groan as I yank off my woolly top and collapse onto the bed. With just a t-shirt on now, the crisp morning air is beginning to nip at my arms and elbows.

How much time have I wasted already?

There's a light knock on the door as Mama's voice floats across the room. "Honey, have you seen my hair dryer? I can't seem to find it anywhere."

Oops.

I grab the item in question off of my table and leap to the door.

She raises an eyebrow as I hand it to her. "You're still not dressed?"

Since it's so early in the morning, Mama's still cozied up in her cobalt blue night robe with her hair jammed into what she thinks is a decent-looking bun (really though it's a bird's nest). She's not dressed either, but she doesn't have anywhere to be in an hour.

"I'm ready," I lie, for no particular reason other than defiance, maybe.

Groaning once again, I retreat to my place on the bed. Mama chuckles as she enters my room, gently closing the door behind her.

"Oh, I see. You're going to wear a skirt and some ratty t-shirt without any tights or sweater this time of the year? Sweetheart, are you asking for pneumonia?"

When I don't respond, Mama snorts and jumps onto the bed, right next to me. "Are you nervous about meeting Atty's parents? You're not sure what to wear?"

"How do you know?" I ask, pulling my face out of the blanket trench I had buried it in.

Mama smirks, exuding pure nonchalance. "It was easy to figure out, really. At breakfast when you were eating you nibbled a few seconds too slow. Then, as you left, your pacing was irregular."

That's some grade-A Sherlock-ian bullshit.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Careful Mama, your detective skills might just put Dad out of business."

She laughs and ruffles my hair. "You're just easy to figure out, Mija." Mama also points to my worktable, where my laptop sits wide open with an article in clear view titled 'What to Wear When Meeting Your Boyfriend's Parents'.

Oh. I really am my own snitch.

Mama saunters over to my closet and starts ruffling through the mish-mash of clothing. Well, good luck to her.

Within moments, she giggles and pulls out the red dress Collette gave me weeks ago, right before I left the Martin household.

I shake my head instantly. "No way, that one is too important. You know how I am; I'll spill something on it and ruin it forever."

Mama purses her lips, making sure I can see her frown. "This was a gift from Collette, right? I'm sure if... hmm. What's Atty's mom's name?"

"June." Easy to remember since that's the name Collette chose for her grocery store.