Chapter 28
?
Ah ha ha ha. I am not, actually, okay.
Zakery
Drear. Fabulous. Nothing beats driving through traffic toward my doom for several hours under overcast, drizzling skies. The only thing keeping me from steering toward the nearest bridge and thrusting myself off it is Maelin. She’s seated beside me, glowing like the moon. No hat or sunglasses needed while the sun is so adamantly not around. Her full beauty remains unobscured.
I’m grounding myself in every strand of her hair as it moves while she talks, half certain I’ve welded our hands together.
The car GPS says we’re five minutes away, delayed due to traffic.
We’re going to be late to the time that we told her mother and father, which means I’ll already have a bad mark against me.
Maelin’s boyfriend? Yeah. He’s not punctual . And a liar as well. Said he’d be here at a certain time. Wasn’t.
I might throw up.
I don’t know how I’m going to manage this.
Even good parents are judgy. And I know I’m going to hear every passive aggressive undertone. What if I freak out? Breakdown? Prove I’m unworthy of Maelin on both large and finite scales? What if they take one look at me and ask why in the world I’m wearing a thick all-black coat in the summer?
What if they’re determined to make me prove myself, but I don’t know how to?
“Zakery, are you listening to me?” Maelin asks.
What if I don’t listen to their daughter when she’s being very cute and very perfect? Swallowing hard, I say, “No.” I fight for air. “I’m sorry.” I bring her hand to my mouth, kiss her lovely slender fingers. “What were you saying?”
“Um.”
Um . I love her little um s. They’ve gotten more rare, the more comfortable she’s gotten around me, but still. Occasionally, she blesses.
“I was saying there’s a noodle place I like around here. If we leave early enough, we can stop there for dinner before we head out. It serves ramen. Fancy ramen. In big, big bowls. My nose always runs whenever I eat there. It’s excellent for clearing out the good old sinuses.”
Lightning crashes across the sky in the distance, heralding in a storm worse than this drizzle.
“I’ve always wanted to get two bowls. Not because one is small. No. They’re massive. But I think I just hate deciding the flavor I want, and then, also, I could probably eat about fifteen bowls they’re that good. But do you know the price of one bowl? Yeah. It’s like between seventeen and twenty-four dollars depending on what you get. My impoverished self could never . I have, however, been saving up from a very, very nice job I got a few weeks ago. And since my sister barely lets me get fancy cereal, I am loaded and ready to eat so much ramen.” She beams at me, eyes glittering, like a replacement for the absent sun. “Do you like ramen?”
I think I could like just about anything if I eat it with her. Kissing her hand again, I say, “That sounds like an excellent plan. I especially love the part where it means we’ll be leaving no later than seven.” My eyes dart to the clock, discover it is several minutes past twelve, when we left at nine, and were supposed to arrive at eleven.
The meal her parents have planned for us has officially been going cold. Also, they had to make it by themselves. No opportunity for me to offer to help. Another bad mark against me. And if I know anything about perfection, one error ruins it.
It’s too late for me to be perfect.
And. Just…
I glance at Maelin, who has begun talking faster about the ramen place. She is so excited over the notion she can afford appetizers it hurts.
Just look at her .
Perfection is nothing less than she deserves, and I’ve got a punctuation mark on my wrist that says—for a long, long while there—I was very near ready to kill myself.
Perfection, I am not.
Proving as much, every cell in me contorts when her parents’ neighborhood comes into view, displaying the rows of cookie-cutter houses. Brittle lawns spot the cramped yards. Chipping paint matches the dark sky, which chooses this moment—a minute before we must exit the vehicle—to open up on us.
Maelin’s smile evaporates as she looks toward the heavens. “Huh.”
“Pathetic fallacy,” I murmur.
“What?”
I shake my head and pull in beside a minivan when Maelin, regaining her excitement, points at the right driveway.
Breathing gets harder. “What’s the plan?” I ask.
“We honk.”
I whip my attention to her. “What? I mean, once we get in there, what do I do?” Prostrate myself on my knees in supplication? Beg forgiveness for my tardiness? Take full responsibility for not checking the weather or the traffic ahead of time? It’s not like me. I need to figure out how—without listing an excuse—to very firmly suggest that I am not usually like this.
I’m just…
Terrified .
Maelin reaches across the console and beeps my horn.
I go as pale white as her skin, hair prickling up and down my arms. Breathless, I whisper, “Why did you just do that?”
“Because it’s raining. And I didn’t bring an umbrella.”
I have an umbrella. It’s small. But it exists. But I’m not ready. But—
My heart collides with my uvula as the front door opens, and the mammoth of all umbrellas completely blocks a man I barely caught a glimpse of. He swings the umbrella high, grinning with Maelin’s smile as he plods out into the rain, waving eagerly at me before sweeping to Maelin’s door. She pops out and into his arms without fear.
Without fear, she is hugging her father.
I have never hugged a father before.
I…hope he doesn’t expect to hug me.
Squeezing her tight, he kisses her forehead a dozen times then leans down to look in at me. Green eyes. Not Maelin green, but who could truly have Maelin green other than Maelin? “Hold on. I’ll come back for you.”
He closes my passenger-side door.
I contemplate throwing the engine back on and driving away with a speed that might put Hermes to shame. But. Problem.
Helpless, I watch the man—Maelin’s father —take my Maelin up the sidewalk, to the front door, and deliver her to a woman with short dark hair like Morana’s. They embrace. And I have about four seconds to come to terms with the fact I have entered the territory of a family that hugs, because her father is coming back, heading my way, going to be at my door in two seconds.
Panicked, I check for my phone, my wallet, my keys . Keys. Need those. Grabbing them, I clutch them tight and repeat keys, keys, keys in my head. Having to call a locksmith to bail me out would decimate my already failing chances of proving myself a worthy companion for Maelin.
Her father opens my door.
I do not squeak.
Offering his hand, he says, “It’s wonderful to meet you, Zakery. Mae’s told us so much about you. I’m her father, if that wasn’t obvious. You can call me Hank.”
She’s told her parents about me? How much? What has she said? Do I need to live up to any glorified propaganda?
Gripping his hand, I do my very best to have a firm, but not aggressive, but not wimpy, but not overcompensating grip. Never minding that it was only a trap.
Pulling me out of my nice safe car, he balances the massive umbrella in order to clap a hand around my back. Then, arm thrust over my shoulder, he whirls me toward the front door and guides me into a narrow foyer. If the square of linoleum that opens into a pale yellow hall counts as a foyer.
“Boy, it really started coming down,” Hank calls as he beats the rain off the umbrella, pulls it in, and leans it up in the corner.
Slender fingers present themselves, and I follow the arm up to Maelin’s mother, who has my princess cemented to her side. “Taylor. Nice to meet you.”
Expecting more foul play, I take her hand, unable to soak in the relief when she does not pull me in for a hug because her husband has thrown his arm around my shoulders again and is practically shaking me as he booms, “Well! The food’s all ready, so let’s not let it get cold. We can get to know each other over lunch.”
“I’ll get the beans and meat off the stove,” Taylor says, nuzzling Maelin a second before heading down the hall, taking a turn, and disappearing into the confines of this home. It is very small. Very covered in photos. Photos of…
I go very, very still as my eyes lock on a picture of Maelin and Morana. They’re sharing a plastic trike. Morana’s scowling while Maelin’s hands are planted atop Morana’s dark hair, pushing herself up to squint over her sister’s head at the camera beneath the brim of a wide, wide hat. No sunglasses. Barely visible slits of her green eyes.
So…cute…
“You like that, huh?” Hank chuckles.
My body locks. No, sir. I don’t. I do not like looking at pictures of children. I promise. I promise . It’s just. It’s just Maelin . Little Maelin .
He nudges me, completely at ease. “I’ve got a whole album to show you later.”
“Dad, no. We talked about this,” Maelin says.
“It’s classic,” he protests.
“It’s embarrassing .”
“ Classic .”
An entire album of Maelin pictures? I’d very much like to soothe the hammering in my chest with that.
Maelin shoves her father after her mother. “Go help Mom with the beans and give us a second.”
He sighs. “Fine, fine.” He flicks his finger at us. “No necking while my back is turned.”
“Dad!”
He takes a step away, whips back around.
Maelin covers her face. “ Father, why? ”
Chuckling, he heads off, taking the same turn as his wife and disappearing.
Gentle, Maelin’s hand finds mine, and I shift my attention to her, to her pale fingers against my skin. “Are you okay?” she asks.
Silent, I dip my chin.
Worry clouds her perfect green eyes. “Are you…sure?”
My nerves are shot. My heart is in the wrong place. I don’t know how I’m going to stuff food in my face, maintain a conversation, and present calm. But I’m fine . Of course I’m fine. I’m always fine.
Her free hand lifts, cups my cheek. Her thumb swipes over my curved lips. I’m…smiling.
I’m smiling.
I didn’t realize I was smiling.
Everything inside me collapses, panic rises, falls, erupts, but I keep smiling.
I keep smiling until Maelin throws her arms around me, grips my clothes, crushes me. Then, slowly, my body calms down, and my smile falls. My lips part as I lift my shaking arms around her, burrow against her. Filling my lungs with air, I whisper, “ Maelin .”
“Breathe with me, Zakery,” she says. “I’m right here.”
Letting my eyes close while I breathe in time with her, I wait for the pain to subside.
“You can be yourself.” She presses her cheek to my heart. “I promise nothing bad will happen if you’re just yourself.”
“I’m too…arrogant,” I whisper. “I’m not good enough for you.”
“You are. You love me, Zakery. That makes you better than anyone else. You’re here, for me, when you’re terrified. You’re sacrificing what you want for my sake. That’s love, isn’t it? To do that with consistency is how you define love, isn’t it?”
I squeeze her, filling my arms with her weight. “I love you, so much. They’re going to take you away from me.”
“They’re going to assimilate you into the family,” Maelin whispers. “Which is, arguably, more terrifying, but comes with fewer repercussions. I have talked their ears off about you ever since I called and said I wanted to bring a guy home to meet them.”
“Genuinely,” I whisper, “hate that.”
She laughs. “I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself. There’s so much I love about you. And I wanted to share as much of it as possible.”
“In case I shoot myself in the foot today?”
“In case you wanted to say something today, without my blabbering for a full five hours about how great you are.”
I puff a breath, kneading my forehead against the top of hers. “What do you mean that was an option?”
She giggles. It’s so light, so free, so safe . Here in this home that she knows, full of memories, pictures, people.
I ground myself in the peace I feel when I’m with her. “I’m sorry I’m so difficult.”
“You’re not even close to difficult, Zakery.” Pulling back, she smiles up at me. “Hold my hand. We’ll do this together.”
Clasping her hand, I nod, and she leads me through a small kitchen, into a dining room, which has been set up with a taco bar.
I swipe my hand over my mouth to make sure I’ve not fallen back into any old habits, then I open my trembling lips. “Thank you for having me.” I swallow, catch some more air. “I don’t know what Maelin has or hasn’t told you both, but I didn’t grow up in a safe environment. It’s taking me a moment to adjust. I apologize for my stiffness.”
Hank smiles. “Maelin’s told us your childhood wasn’t what it should have been.”
To put things lightly, yeah.
“She’s also told us that you love her,” her mother says as she pulls out a chair. “She’s told us that you back those words with actions. And we can see that clearly already.”
I squeeze Maelin’s hand, scared of what else they might be able to see.
“She may have read us some parts of a certain form you put together.” Her father sits at the head of the table, links his fingers in front of him, and grins. “I don’t think I’d’ve had the guts to do that, young man. Putting commitments in writing like that is dangerous. That’s an awful lot of good intentions you’ll have to hold yourself to.”
My heart quakes. “Well…yes, s-sir…that is the point.”
His eyes twinkle as he nods. “Indeed it is. Normally, it takes years of struggling to make things work in a marriage before you figure out the point that you outlined very distinctly. On fifteen pages.”
“I-I’m sorry,” I croak. “How much did you say she read you?”
Maelin whispers, “Most…of it. I took out the page with the more personal details, like medical history.” Face red, she glances at me. “But Morana and I put Mom and Dad on speakerphone and went through the rest together.”
Oh.
Okay.
Lovely.
It’s not that it was meant to be private, exactly. Even my medical history is fairly general. Had appendicitis at twelve. Big deal. But. Well. I wasn’t expecting this. They’ve already seen my answers to the biggest questions I could think of, and they haven’t turned me away yet?
“The food’s getting cold,” Taylor says, tapping the place setting at the other end of the table. “Sit, Zakery. This is your spot. It’s your favorite color.”
My spot…has a green plate and matching cup. I glance toward the other empty spot and find pink. Maelin’s.
Switching to hold my right hand with her left, she heads toward her seat. “It’s a good thing you’re ambidextrous,” she says as we settle in.
And I could not agree more.