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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1111936-Meeting-the-Family
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Other · #1111936
A guy brings his girlfriend home to meet his family.
She was pretty quiet the first two days. You thought it was just the nervousness of flying completely across the country to meet your family, but you only were partially right. She was being quiet not only because she didn't want to say the wrong thing but because she wanted to watch them to understand them a little and you a little more. This didn't surprise you once you'd figured it out, as you had often felt her watching you when your head was turned.

What surprised you was how she behaved once she decided how to act with everyone.

Towards your father, she gently flirted. Nothing overt and certainly not sexual; it seemed perfunctory, simply part of a charm you'd come to identify with southerners. You only noticed because she tilted her head down while laughing at his jokes and let her vowels hang in the air when speaking to him, and you realized after a slight stab of jealousy that she did the same things toward you.

She treated your mother deferentially. She smiled and nodded whenever your mother made an observation about you, and you could only tell when she disagreed by the narrowing of her eyes. She let your mother talk to her at length about the benefits and parties that took up so much of your mother's time, and you could only see her disinterest in the way she played with her hair more than usual. Your mother liked her enough to touch her wrist and insist that she come shopping with her. She smiled warmly and agreed, and it was then that you realized she didn't dislike your mother. She didn't particularly like her, either; they had very little in common. But you'd known that almost as long as you'd known her.

Your grandmother told you to get off your ass and marry her. They'd carried on almost the entire conversation when your grandmother had invited the two of you to her house for lunch. You weren't sure what she'd done to win over your prickly grandmother so quickly and it vaguely hurt when you considered your grandmother's cool treatment of your mother. But later, when your grandmother left your girlfriend to wander the massive library that had been your grandfather's to give you advice about your life, you understood. Your grandmother said your girlfriend put her in mind of herself at that age. Which you knew meant she thought your girlfriend was high-class enough to carry out what was considered your family's legacy, but intelligent enough to hide that so that she could be respected in the community, and you had to firmly clench your teeth to restrain yourself from defending her.

You were both shocked and unsurprised that she acted most naturally with the woman who acted as your family's cook and maid, but who had been hired as a nanny and raised you. You'd come into the kitchen late one night to get something to drink and had found them laughing riotously over pieces of cake. You'd gotten your glass of water and asked them what was so funny, only to have them laugh harder. The next night you found them in the kitchen talking quietly about how different California was from the south, where they'd both been raised. It struck you that they were very similar people, but you'd known that almost as long as you'd been living with her.

You interrupted them and told them you couldn't sleep when they asked what was wrong. You watched as their eyes clouded in concern for you, each forgetting that they were having the same problem. You joined their conversation, defending your home state and realizing that somewhere during your years of education on the east coast California had begun to feel less like home. Finally you all decided it was late and you ought to try to get some sleep. You and your girlfriend left the kitchen, but you suddenly couldn't think about going to bed. Instead you asked if she'd like to take a walk on the beach. She agreed and soon you were on the well-traveled path toward the semi-private stretch of beach you shared with two other families. It really was late, and there was no one on the beach. You walked to the edge of the water. She was already stepping into the ocean, splashing in the waves. You thanked her for being so wonderful towards your family. You told her how much they liked her and thought how strange it was that all of them should feel the same way about her. That had never happened before with anyone you'd brought home. She told you she loved you and that sucking up to your family was the least she could do for you. You realized she was only half-joking. You told her you loved her, too, and because it was such a perfect night and the water was so warm and she looked so happy there in the waves, you followed her into the ocean, content to be with her in the half-dark.

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