His father made it for her. She thought it was a bit soon to meet his parents, not that she wasn’t flattered and happy about it. He was leaving for a few weeks, on a cross country trip, driving, and really it was more about consolidating obligations than introducing her into his family.
He asked if she would be uncomfortable at their house for dinner.
“Would you?” she wondered.
“It’s hard to make me uncomfortable.”
His father was a cook, by hobby, and a bus driver for special needs students in his retirement after 30 years with the Department of Corrections. He was an excellent cook, and the steak was tender and better than anything she’d eaten in many months. There were also crab legs.
His parents drank a lot, Miller Lite. They were loose and fun and they didn’t ask her many questions, which was nice.
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