Chapter 6

 

                “You got everything?”

                She didn’t move.

                “We should really go then.”

                She didn’t move.

                “Christalee?  Baby?  Tee?”

                She still didn’t move.  JC let out a sigh and crouched down so he could look in her eyes even though she was staring blankly ahead past him.

                “What’s going on sweetie?”

                “They’re waiting out there, aren’t they?” she whispered in a conspiring tone.

                “Well, no, not they,” JC reluctantly answered, wondering why his girlfriend suddenly had an aversion to his family.  “It’s just Tyler who’s picking us up.  The rest of the family is at home, no use in them all going through crazy traffic when they can be making me supper, right?”

                She didn’t laugh.  “Not them.  Them, the reporters.  They’re out there just waiting for me, aren’t they?”

                “Baby, there wasn’t like, a bulletin that I was bringing a girlfriend home, but there will probably be one or two reporters out there.  I thought you said you were ready for this.”

                “I am.  I just, it’s big.  I need to take a deep breath here.”

                “Okay,” JC agreed, sitting himself in the seat next to hers which he’d sat on during the entire fligh over from Florida.  She said nothing, she didn’t move, Christalee simply sat there looking ahead.  JC let out a sigh.  “We’re going to have to get out soon though, babe.  The plane has other places to go.”

                “I know, I just, this is big.”

                JC sighed and passed a hand through his hair.  He didn’t want to do this, but if it was the only way to make her feel comfortable, he would.  “Do you not want to come out with me?  You can go and I can wait fifteen minutes.”

                “They’ll still know when I get in the car with Tyler or when I show up at your parents’ house later, because you know the media won’t leave you alone for the whole weekend.”  Her eyes were wide with fear and that alone almost broke his heart.  What was he doing to her?

                “I know.  I’ll leave you my card and you can get a flight back.  You don’t have to do this, Tee.  You can just go back home and we can keep doing the secret thing.  Do what feels right, baby.”

                She wanted to give in and leave.  Christalee had always been a private person and she had seen what the media could do to the guys’ girlfriends.  She and JC had been romantically linked a few times, but always suggesting she was a fling rather than anything permanent.  Permanency enraged the fans, and while Christalee wasn’t sure she could deal with that, she knew for sure that she couldn’t deal with the weight on JC’s shoulders that would be there as long as he had to keep her a secret.

                She twined her arms around his neck and brought his forehead against hers in what he assumed was a good-bye hug.  He took a deep breath to steady himself, heartbroken that he was driving them apart for the weekend and that he wouldn’t be able to go public with Christalee for some time yet.

                “Just don’t let go of my hand,” she whispered against his lips.  He smiled at her, knowing that letting go of her was the furthest thing from his mind.

                “That sounds nice,” Justin answered with little enthusiasm.

                “And I had to change my flight, but I’ll still be there on the same night, just a few hours later,” Sam told him over the line.

                “Just tell me when so I can go pick you up at the airport.”

                “Justin, you aren’t picking me up at the airport, you’ll get mobbed.  I’ll call a cab or something, don’t worry about it.”

                “But I want to pick you up,” Justin whined uncooperatively.

                “I know baby, and I appreciate it, but it’s not realistic.  Just stay  home and go to bed early that night. I’ll be next to you by the time you wake up.”

                “That really sounds nice,” Justin answered, this time with much more sincerity in his voice.

                “Good, and - oh, wait hold on Jay,” Sam said as she listened to muffled voices in the background.  He sat quietly waiting for her voice to return as his fingers played with the hem of his shirt.  “Hey Justin?  I have to go, we have people over.”

                “Really?  You getting your fill of family while you can?”  He didn’t want her to go and even though he knew she was probably impatient to go greet whoever had just arrived, he wanted to find some way of keeping her on the line with him.

                “Nah, it’s Alex, my parents told him I’d be home this weekend and that he should drop in.”

                “Alex?”  Justin asked, trying to figure out where exactly he’d heard the name before.

                “Yeah, Alex Minton. He happens to be in town this weekend too.”

                “Alex Minton?  Wait, like your ex-boyfriend?”

                “From high school, yeah.  Anyway, I’ll call you tomorrow Jay.  Sweet dreams, baby!”

                He heard the click on the end of the line before he could reply.  “Love you too.”

                Begrudgingly, he picked up the remote control next to him and surfed through the channels without actually noticing what was playing.  He mumbled to himself all the while, “Now they’re trying to set her up with an ex while she’s dating me.  Perfect, just perfect.”

 

                “You’re exaggerating!”

                “No I’m not!”

                “You are!”

                “No I’m not!”

                “He’s exaggerating.”

                “She’s lying.”

                Christalee and JC looked at each other, both hoping the other would give in.  It didn’t look like that would be happening anytime soon.

                “Look, you weren’t even there,” JC finally argued.

                “But you called me about five seconds after it happened and you said there were twenty, now you’re saying there were over fifty,”  Christalee responded.

                “I never said twenty.”

                “You said twenty until your audience grew!”

                “Mom, she’s lying,” JC finally decided to bring in a third party who, by blood, should automatically be on his side.

                “I’m sure she’s not, honey.  Anyone want anything else?”  Mrs. Chasez asked as she rose from her seat.

                “What!”  JC exclaimed over the various orders coming from his family.  “You’re taking her side over mine, your own flesh and blood.”

                “Well, sweetie, you do tend to exaggerate sometimes.  I’ll get you more tea.”

                “I don’t want more tea!”  JC whined as his mother left the room.  “I want you to encourage me and be on my side and-”

                “Jace?”  Tyler, his younger brother interrupted.

                “What?”

                “Shut up.  I’m going to bed.  See everyone in the morning.”  He laid a hand on Christalee’s head as he passed by her.  He’d seen how scared she was when he’d picked the couple up at the airport and he knew it couldn’t be easy for her to be there where she would undoubtedly be discovered, though so far no reporter had even remotely been spotted.

                “Night Tyler,” Christalee offered with a smile at the reassuring gesture.

                “Me too.  Night guys,” Heather, JC’s sister waved as she left the room.

                JC’s father didn’t add anything, but winked at the couple as he rose from his chair and followed the route his wife had taken a few moments earlier.

                “Well that’s just fine.  Everyone leave because you like my girlfriend more than you love me, that’s fine.”  He pouted alone, and finally Christalee acknowledged his stuck out bottom lip.

                “Don’t worry, baby, I’m sure they still love you too deep down inside,” she kissed his bottom lip and rose from her seat on the floor.  “So, where am I sleeping tonight?”

                “With me,”  JC automatically answered.

                “No, I’m serious.”

                “So am I,” he rose so he could look her in the eyes with more ease.  “You’re sleeping with me.  Why wouldn’t you?”

                “Josh, we’re at your parents’ house,” she whispered as though it were a secret.

                “Yes, and I’m pretty sure my parents already know we sleep together.  It shouldn’t shock them that much Tee.”

                “That’s not respectful.”

                “They don’t mind.”

                “Did you ask?”

                “No, but my mom only made up one extra bed.”  She gave him a sceptical look and he pulled her against him.  “Come on, I promise, it’ll be fine.  We’ll be really quiet.”

                “We’re not doing anything,” Christalee told him.

                “Nothing loud anyway,” he argued, slapping her butt as she climbed the stairs in front of him.

                “Nothing, Joshua.” 

                He didn’t say anything to agree and she doubted he was in accordance as he hoisted her in a fireman’s carry over his shoulder.

 

                “You are so obvious.”

                “I am not,” Chris argued.  “Obvious about what?”

                “What you feel for my cousin,” Leslie answered.

                Chris looked around quickly for a moment to see if Meghan was anywhere within earshot.  When he was sure she was too far to hear anything, he continued, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

                “I’m talking about the fact that you are madly in love with my cousin,” Leslie calmly answered.

                “What?  Nah, no, not am . . .  um, what?”  Chris sputtered.

                Leslie practically spit out her soda as she tried not to laugh at Chris’ obvious embarrassment.  She was amazed her cousin hadn’t noticed Chris’ feelings yet. After all, the man hung over her like a lost puppy and did everything he could to help her out.  He had found Leslie a therapist who would work with her over the phone while she was on the road, had accompanied them to the preliminary appointment and insisted on driving Meghan to the grocery store when she’d mentioned her cupboards were practically empty.

                “Uh, huh.  You know I could easily find out if she likes you,” Leslie offered, watching Chris’ reaction from over her soda cup.

                “What is this the first grade?”  Chris demanded as he turned up the volume on the car radio.  They’d been waiting a good fifteen minutes for Meghan to get her groceries, and while she said she only had a few things to pick up, Chris wouldn’t be surprised if she took at least half an hour, Meghan tended to get carried away when she was shopping, even if it was only for food.  “How would you do that?”

                “Huh?”  Leslie asked as her head stopped bobbing to the song that was playing.

                “If you were to find out if she like me, how would you do that?”  He fiddled with a loose thread on his shirt to avoid making eye contact with the girl in the back seat.

                “I thought you said that was so ‘first grade’,” she teased.

                “It is.  I’m just curious as to how you would find out.  I’m not saying do it, I’m just . . .  making conversation.”  He knew he wasn’t even slightly convincing her that this was only casual conversation, but he tried to keep up the facade nevertheless.

                Leslie only shrugged, knowing Chris wouldn’t be able to bother her much more with the question as she saw Meghan draw close to the car in the rear view mirror.  In fact, just as Chris was about to open his mouth to ask for details, the passenger door opened, and Meghan slid into the seat, handing Leslie the three full bags that were weighing her down.

                “Alright, sorry that took so long.  I just wanted to get something good for supper.”

                “Don’t worry about it,” Chris told her, casting a quick look in Leslie’s direction.

                “Yeah, now we can eat well,” Leslie agreed, “and since we’ve got so much food and Chris was such a great chauffeur all day, we should invite him to eat with us tonight.”

                “Sure,” Meghan hesitantly answered, wondering what exactly her little cousin was up to.

                “Sounds great,” Chris answered, sounding a little unsure himself as he cast another look, this time one pleading that she remain silent, to Leslie.

 

                There was something rocking the bed and he highly doubted it was Kelly.  Groaning, he slowly opened his eyes to see what exactly was making him start to feel seasick.

                “Up, up, up!”  He was greeted by Brianna’s voice as she jumped on his bed.  Joey quickly reached out and wrapped his arms around his daughter, dragging her down onto the bed with him where he could tickle her without feeling the entire bed shake under him.  She squealed and giggled with joy as her father lavished her with attention.  Soon enough though, the game stopped when Joey realised that there was something missing to the family’s Saturday morning.

                “Where’s your mama?” he asked as he held her down in his arms.

                “Itchen,” the little girl answered as she freed herself from his grip and started to once again bounce on the bed.

                “Ah ha!”  Joey answered, grabbing her and tossing her over his left shoulder.  “Well, let’s go see what she’s doing.”

                Brianna barely made it down the stairs perched upon her father’s shoulders before she launched herself off him and toward the living room where she would surely find whatever cartoon was captivating her attention this month.  Joey watched her go until he reached the kitchen doorway, then focussed his attention on the woman before him as she cooked some kind of breakfast for her family.

                Kelly wore a big fluffy robe, but from the way it was hanging from her body, Joey knew that it was not tied against her.  He also knew, not thanks to his eyes this time but thanks to experience, that what she wore under that robe wasn’t much.  A very short nightgown, one of his T-shirts or maybe only her underwear.  Whatever it was that the material was concealing, it was making Joey hard at the mere thought of it’s existence against his wife’s skin.

                He moved closer to her, and Kelly didn’t even notice.  She was swaying to the music coming from the radio as she cooked his meal, her hips swinging provocatively to the beat.  Joey watched her until he could absolutely not help himself any longer, and he simply had to surround her waist with his arms.  He almost melted when his fingers touched bare skin.  Apparently, she had opted for only wearing underwear this morning.

                “Joey!” she cried, pulling her body away from him and wrapping the bathrobe tightly against herself. “What are you doing?”

                “Saying hello?” he asked playfully.

                “Well say it with your mouth, not with your hands,” Kelly huffed in answer.

                “All right,” Joey conceded as she turned to face the frying pan before her.  Joey approached and attached his lips to her neck as he tried to lower the bathrobe from her shoulders.

                “Would you stop, I’m going to make a mess if you keep that up,” Kelly scolded him, though Joey could hear the giggles she was trying to contain as he tickled her flesh with his lips.

                “I’m just saying hello with my lips,” he told her, “just like you told me to.”

                She smacked his butt with the spatula then pointed it toward the door.  “Go, watch cartoons with your daughter, now.”

                Joey gave her sad puppy dog eyes, but she wasn’t anywhere near caving.  Finally, he gave her a quick peck on the lips and went to find what Brianna had found on the television.

 

                “And then what happened?”  Justin asked as he lobbed the basketball toward the net.

                “We had supper.”

                “And then what happened?”  Justin asked again as he caught his own rebound.

                “We sat around watching TV for a little while.”

                “And then what happened?” came the question as the ball soared over Chris’ head.

                “And then I left, what is up with the questions man?”

                Justin shrugged his shoulder.  “I’m bored, man.  I have nothing to do.  I have ants in my pants from sitting around and doing nothing.  Jace is back home with Chrissy, Joey’s with the family, Lance is being even more of a downer than I am and you’re hanging with the love of your life and her cousin.  There’s nothing for me to do!”

                “Okay, first of all, we are not allowed to say Meghan is the love of my life out loud.  Second of all, I doubt anyone is being more of a downer than you.  Third of all, none of that is why you’re bitching, you’re really just mad that Sam’s gone to visit her family and that you’re too chicken to be there with her.”

                “No, I’m really just mad at the fact that her mother is throwing men at her in an attempt to make her forget about me and go out with one of those pretty boys she knew in high school.”  Justin interrupted himself when he heard Chris laugh and turned around to find his friend doubled over with giggles.  “What?”

                “Man, Justin, that’s just funny cause you have to admit that if anyone’s a pretty boy, it’s you.”

                “Lance and Jace are prettier than me,” Justin defended himself, but was met by a sceptical look from Chris. “Don’t ask where that came from.”

                “Anyway,” Chris changed the subject, “why do her parents hate you?”

                “I don’t know, they don’t think I’m good enough for her or something.  I’ve only met them like three times and they were really short visits, so I don’t know how they can be so sure they know me already.”

                “And have you tried explaining this to them?”  Chris questioned as he sunk the basketball into the basket.

                “Um, no, I kind of get really nervous anytime we’re in the same room together.”

                “Well no wonder they think you’re a dumbass.”

                “I never said they thought I was a dumbass,” Justin replied quietly.

                “I know, but with you, it’s pretty much inevitable.”  Chris shot the ball and it swooshed through the net.  He looked up at Justin with confused eyes.  “Did I just win?”

 

                “And the SkyDome concert is that Thursday,” Meghan stated, although it came out more as a question than anything else.

                “No, that had to be moved.”

                “The SkyDome or the concert?” she asked, the small doubt she was feeling expanding with every second.

                “Neither, the date had to be changed.  It’s still going to be at the SkyDome, which I don’t even want to imagine moving, but it’s going to be two weeks later.”

                “Aren’t we in Hawaii two weeks later?”

                “No, we’re in Hawaii the week we were supposed to be in the SkyDome because of the change.”

                “Well, why were the dates changed to start with?”  Meghan asked, starting to feel more annoyed than confused.

                “I don’t know, something about television specials or something.  It doesn’t really matter.  This is just the new order, this is what you have to know.”

                “Lance, this is impossible.  I knew all the original dates and usually I can adjust in the blink of an eye when dates change, but not when all this comes up at the same time.”

                “It didn’t all come up at the same time,” Lance argued calmly hoping to take some of the aggravation out of the air, “you were just gone for a while and a lot can happen in a week.”

                “You’re telling me, since I’ve come back I’ve realised that-”

                “Hey, do you know where my . . .  oh, sorry,” Leslie interrupted herself as she realised that Meghan wasn’t alone in the living room.  “Hi Lance.  How are you?”

                “I’m doing pretty good.  Taking advantage of a little time off.  What about you?”  He watched her with careful eyes as he waited for her answer.  She looked even better than the last time he’d seen her.  Leslie had started eating regularly again and was no longer wearing the extremely baggy clothes that she had when she first joined the tour.  Lance wondered when exactly all this had happened since he doubted that she could have done so much progress in her therapy session when she had only been attending them for a few days.

                “Oh, I’m good.  Getting a little restless though being cooped up here.  Chris comes around to entertain me every now and then though.”

                “That’s nice,” Lance answered, fighting the jealousy that was suddenly aroused in him at the thought that Chris got to spend more time with Leslie than he did.  Lance knew that Chris only hung around because of Meghan, and he also knew that Leslie had probably not opened up to Chris the way she had to him when he’d rushed to her after her nightmare, but still he couldn’t help the butterflies of envy in his stomach.

                “Yeah, well, I’ll let you two get back to it.  I’ll see you soon when the tour starts up again Lance,” Leslie called as she left the room.

                “Yeah, see you,”  Lance responded, though he wasn’t entirely sure she was still within earshot.

                “All right, so then next week-” Meghan was barely halfway through her sentence before Lance interrupted her.

                “How’s she doing?” he asked, his eyes still lingering on the spot where Leslie had just left the room.

                “Huh, who?  Oh, Leslie, she’s fine.  She has good days and bad days like the rest of us.  I think that psychiatrist Chris found for us is a big help.  I hope she just keeps it up once she comes on the road with us again.”

                “You don’t think she’ll keep talking to him?”  Lance questioned, forcing his attention from the place where Leslie could reappear at any moment to look in Meghan’s direction.

                “No, I just don’t know if it will be as easy for her to talk with someone about this when she can’t see them face to face.  She’s getting better either way.  She doesn’t jump every time the doorbell rings and she seems really comfortable with Chris.”

                “Does she?”  Lance asked, his voice holding both a tinge of jealousy and an iota of interest at the fact that whatever he was saying, Meghan seemed to veer the subject back to that of Chris.

                “Yeah, but she should, I mean he’s always here.  He keeps checking up on us.  Then he forgets stuff and has to come ask me when this meeting is or which items are in the fall line and which in the winter line.  He’s here all the time, but he helps out too, which is good.”  Meghan scribbled something on the paper in front of her and Lance wondered what she could possibly be writing when they weren’t talking anything about business.

                “He’s helping with Leslie?”  Lance doubted that Leslie had let Chris get that close to her, but if she had, he sure would like to ask Chris a few pointers on how he could get in a position to help Leslie as well.

                “Yes, well, maybe not her exactly.  I guess he’s helping me more than he’s helping her.  He’s just always here you know, giving us a ride while my car’s in the shop, having supper simmering on the stove if one of Leslie’s sessions is late, telling me to shut up if I’m being too nosy . . .  you know, he’s just here for support.  And it’s nice to see that Leslie’s at least getting used to one male presence without having nightmares for a week afterwards.”

                “Yeah.  I could see that.  So Chris has become your domestic huh?” Lance teased, all too aware that if he stayed serious with Meghan for too long, she would start to suspect that he was thinking about something more serious than her spare time spent with Chris.

                “I wouldn’t say that, I mean, he’s more than just a maid.  He’s really my support system right now.  I don’t know what I would do without him.”

                “Well, Chris doesn’t know what he would do without you most of the time either.  You guys really need each other I guess.”  Lance was never the best with subtlety, but Meghan didn’t seem to find anything suspicious about his comment though he could see the wheels starting to turn in her mind.

                “Yeah, I guess . . .  Anyway, what about this week here,” Meghan leaned over to point to the spot in her agenda where they had left off when she noticed the time on her watch.  “Is that really the time?  God, Lance I’m sorry, but Chris is going to be here in about fifteen minutes so I can go over with him what I just learned from you.  Do you think we could just finish this when we get back on tour?”

                “Not a problem,” Lance answered.  “Why didn’t you just have me come here and explain it to you both at the same time though?”

                “No offense Lance, but business you and vacation Chris, those two just don’t mix at all.”

                “I hear you,” he leaned down and gave her a quick hug before he picked up the last of his things, “I’ll see you soon Meg.”

                “Yep, have a nice end of vacation Lance.”

                He smiled at her and exited the room from the same door Leslie had.  His hands shuffled through one of his agenda’s as he walked toward the front door, wondering if he had missed anything written down or if he truly had the rest of the day off.  He hadn’t even found the right date yet, when he bumped into something that caused him to drop his papers to the floor.

                “Oh, I’m so sorry Lance!”

                “Don’t worry about it.”  Leslie was on her hands and knees picking up the papers before Lance even realised that it was her he had run into.  Lance joined her on the floor and they quickly had all the loose papers back in his hands.

                “There you go,” she told him.  He was sure she’d leave once the task was done, but she simply stood there, looking at him, waiting for him to do or say something.

                “So, how are you doing Leslie?”

                “Good,” she answered, nodding though her eyes refused to meet his.  Lance lowered his head a little as he bent his knees in an effort to see her eyes, finally, when he was able to find them, she let out a heavy sigh.  “All right, not really.  I um, not so good to tell you the truth.”

                “Really?”  Lance asked, almost wishing she could take it back so he wouldn’t feel the painful tinge that was pressing his heart at the thought that she wasn’t doing as well as both Meghan and apparently Chris thought she was. 

                “Anything I can do?” he asked, though he highly doubted there was anything he could do that the two people that had taken Leslie closely under their wings couldn’t.

                “Well, yes, but,” Leslie took a deep breath and looked Lance in the eyes.  She blinked then looked away, “you don’t want to and it’s silly and you don’t have time and I understand and that’s okay.”

                She tried to move away from him, but Lance’s arm around her waist quickly brought her back to the position directly in front of him.  He may not have noticed, but Leslie felt his arm around her, and she looked down at it slithered around her waist, where it absolutely did not frighten her in any way.

                “Why don’t you tell me how I can help before you decide that I don’t want to.  Then I can make up my own mind,” he held his hand up to her when she parted her lips to protest, and continued, “I know, silly idea, but why don’t we give it a shot.”

                “Well this shrink, um, psychiatrist, I’ve been talking to had an idea, and he thought I should, well you know, talk to someone about stuff. Someone that’s not him.  And Meghan is great and all, but she’s kind of high strung and Chris is nice, but I’m pretty sure he’s kind of crazy and well, you’re just nice and there and I’m comfortable with you for some reason and,” she stopped her self and took a deep breath hoping to find a little more courage.  Instead, she only managed to discourage herself even more.  “You know what, never mind, it was a silly idea.  I’m sorry, you were going somewhere.  You can just . . .  I’m sorry.”

                Lance caught her arm again as she tried to move away from him.  “Leslie, are you asking to talk to me?”

                “Well, kind of, yeah.  I talk, you listen, I just . . .  it was silly, I’m sorry.”

                “Leslie,” Lance said quietly, almost in a whisper as he tugged a bit on her arm to convince her to look at him, “you don’t have to ask to talk to me.  You can always talk to me.  I mean, nobody asked me to go check up on those noises that day, and no one asked me to stay with you, I wanted to.  I’d be more than happy to listen to you whenever you need it.”

                “Are you sure?  I mean, I’m not exactly abundant in happy conversations, you know?”

                “I know.  And I’m sorry.”  Lance looked at her for a few seconds, noticing for what was definitely not the first time, the lost little girl look in her eyes.  If Lance was reading her eyes correctly, she felt like a very little girl in a world much too big for her.  He pulled her toward him, hoping that she would protest if he was in any way making her feel uncomfortable, and held her against him, her head resting under his chin.  She didn’t make a sound either of comfort or protest, but he felt her arms tighten their hold on his shirt.

 

                “Do you want more?” he asked, knife poised in the air, ready to drop at her answer.

                “Sure,” she answered, barely sending a glance in his direction.

                The knife soared down a few strokes, then he stopped again with the utensil in the same position.  “Do you want more?”

                “Sure,” she answered, this time without looking at him.

                He let the knife fall five times, then repeated his question, “So you want more?”

                “Justin, just cut what’s there sweetie,” his mother replied as she stirred the contents of the pot on the stove.

                Justin did as he was told, chopping all the mushrooms that were on the counter in front of him.  When he finished with them, he looked around with a lost look.  “Do you want anything else?”

                “All right, that’s it!  What is wrong with you?”

                “What?”  Justin asked, taking the stalk of celery she was pointing in his direction.

                “What,” she repeated incredulously, “don’t give me that.  You’ve been walking around here like a robot, talking with barely any emotion.  You’re helping me prepare a meal that you might not even be eating because, and I quote ‘you’re not sure you’re ready to be around that many people.’  You can’t muster the good sense to just cut up everything that’s on the counter.  And you’re not jabbering on about this and that.  What is wrong with you?”

                “I don’t jabber,” Justin defended.

                “Don’t change the subject.  What’s wrong Justin?”  Mrs. Harless tore herself away from the stove and sat on a stool across from Justin as she waited for his answer.

                “I think Sam’s going to leave me,” he told her, his voice coming out as nothing but a whisper.

                “What did you do?” his mother asked.

                “What is that?  What did I do?  Why is it that I must have done something?” he asked, waving the knife around for emphasis.  His mother pried the cutlery from his hand before he hurt himself.

                “You did something because I like Sam and I don’t want you to screw this up.  She’s good for you Justin, and you know it.  So what did you do?”

                “I didn’t do anything,” he answered, crumpling onto the stool that was next to him, his face falling down into his hands.  “She went home and everyone there is so set on being against me that they’re setting her up with other guys as we speak. Sam loves her family so much, and she cares so much about what they have to say, she’s going to leave me.”

                “Then why are you here?” his mother asked with a simple shrug of the shoulders.

                “Huh?” was the only answer Justin could fathom.

                “If you’re so sure that her family doesn’t like you and is going to do everything they possibly can to separate the two of you, why aren’t you over there charming them so they want you in the family rather than wanting you exiled,” Lynn returned to the spaghetti sauce she was preparing, all too aware that her son would have no viable answer for her.

                Justin paused a second, thinking about her question before he picked up another piece of celery and started chopping.  A few minutes later, he bitterly answered her question, “Because I’m on vacation.”

 

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