Winter Jacket (28 page)

“I still feel like a dinosaur sometimes,” I grumbled.

Hunter tugged at the bottom hem of my shirt so she could place her hands on my abdomen. “You’re damn sexy for an old lady,” she teased.  She trapped my bottom lip between her top and lower teeth and tugged.

I pulled at her waist and pressed my lips
harder against hers.  She smelled sweet.  “And you’re lucky you’re so gorgeous that I put up with this,” I murmured into her mouth.

Hunter
laughed again and pushed me away. “Stop distracting me. I have to finish getting ready.”

“Why?” I leaned against the inside of the doorframe.  She looked amazing all the time; she didn’t need to primp. “You’re not the one who has to impress anyone.  They already know what you look like.”

“You don’t want my parents to think that since dating you I’ve let myself go, do you?” she said as she went back to her makeup.  “I’ve still got appearances to keep up.”

She had a point. “Fair enough; just don’t take too long, okay?  I don’t want to be late.”

She smiled knowingly into the mirror. “Not nervous, huh?”

I shook my head emphatically. “Being punctual is just good manners.”
 

I don’t know why the question came into my head at that moment, but I felt inclined to ask:
"Hey, Hunter, when you went to the Department's end-of-the-year party at my house..." I trailed off because the implications seemed far-fetched.

She twisted so she could look me in the eyes. "Did I go just so I
could see you one more time?"

"I wasn't going to put it like that. That makes me
sound like I have a huge ego."

She smiled broadly. "One of the girls in my program mentioned you were hosting the party.
She’d suggested we crash because the English department is the only end-of-year party that provides free booze.  We'd all had to take the writing seminar at some point, so we figured we were
de facto
English majors."

“Is it pathetic that hearing you use the phrase
de facto
is a huge turn on?”

She smiled warmly, but didn’t say anything in return.  She went back to getting herself ready, picking up her mascara.

+++++

I stared at the small rack of wine I kept in the dining room, pondering if I should bring a bottle to dinner with us. 
I sighed – another incident of meeting the parents. I could still vividly remember the first time I had met the parents of a girl I had been dating.  I was 21 at the time, like Hunter, and we were each other’s first girlfriends. Her parents had been divorced for a while and her mom had been the one to raise her along with her two younger siblings. She'd basically raised herself though. I remember meeting her mom for the first time – it had been dinner, just the three of us, pizza and Mountain Dew. It wasn't her mom's fault; she was doing the best she could with the hand Life had dealt her. She knew how to protect her daughters from teenaged boys. She knew how to warn 21-year-old boys to keep their distance. She just didn't know what to do about me.  I remember thinking at the time that I never wanted to feel that way ever again. And for the most part, I'd never been anyone's first girlfriend again.

I looked away from the wine rack when I heard
Hunter clearing her throat to garner my attention.  She stood at the foot of the staircase with her jacket in her hands. Her hair was down, straightened and falling past her thin shoulders.

“Ready?” Her voice sounded small, not its usually roundness.  It was as if the syllables had gotten stuck on the way out. 

I smiled through my own nerves. “Why do you sound like we’re about to face a firing squad?  You’re not allowed to be nervous.”

She arched a manicured eyebrow.  I had the strangest urge to kiss the space just above it. “I’m not allowed?” she playfully mused.  She switched her jacket from one hand to the other.  “I’m only bringing my very first girlfriend to meet my parents,” she scoffed.

I stepped close and inhaled her sweet scent.  It still made me a little light-headed.  “We could always cancel.”  It was a cowardly thing to say, but I wasn’t above self-preservation.

She shook her head.  “No.  I have to do this,” she said with some finality.  “I feel like I’m keeping secrets.”

I sighed and nodded.  I knew too well that feeling. Hunter was still very much my own secret.  The people closest to me knew, but it wasn’t as though I was advertising the information. I wasn’t particularly close with my own immediate family, so I felt no immediacy to reach out to them.

My parents had separated when I was young and despite the time and distance, they still couldn’t stand each other.
When I’d gotten old enough, I’d divorced myself from them both.  I hadn’t seen them since I graduated from graduate school. I had a younger sister, but we rarely talked.  We liked each other just fine, but had little in common as adults.

“Should I bring a bottle of wine?” I asked.

Hunter pulled on her jacket.  “Probably shouldn’t.  Neither of my parents drinks.”

I don’t know why, but that single admission made my stomach drop.  I don’t think I knew anyone who didn’t drink besides Troian, but she was allergic.  It felt like a huge foreboding microcosm for the difference between my world and
Hunter’s.

“Do I look alright?” As soon as I blurted out the question, I felt foolish.

The tense look on her face softened. “Oh, sweetie.” She touched the side of my face and I couldn’t help but flutter my eyes and lean into her warmth. “You look great.”

I opened my eyes and looked down at my camisole, cardigan, and
skinny jeans ensemble. “Are you sure?”

She smiled that warm-honey grin that made me want to curl up on the couch with her, bur
ied beneath layers of afghans. “You’re perfect,” she breathed.

I nodded, letting her know it was enough.  What was happening to me?  I wasn’t thi
s nervous, tongue-tied person.  I was strong, independent, and self-assured.  I was adept at public speaking, being the most captivating person in a room to keep the attention of a room full of co-eds.  I wasn’t this fidgeting, self-doubting, anxious stomach.  Maybe I’d bring the bottle of wine after all and drink it on the drive there.

+++++

I followed Hunter’s directions out of the city and into the suburbs. The buildings flattened and became more sprawled out the further away from the city center I drove. She pointed me into a subdivision that was the poster child for all subdivisions – violently green lawns, adolescent trees, and rows and rows of houses that all looked the same.

Hunter
must have sensed my silent judgment.  "We didn't always live out here. I grew up in a bungalow in the city, kind of like your house. But my dad got a new, better paying job, and they built out here when I started high school."

I pulled into a cul-de-sac with a basketball hoop at one end. "So you had to change school
s?"

She stared out the passenger window at her parents' home.
 It was a big two-story pre-fabrication house like the others in the neighborhood. "Hence the no friend thing. I probably only became friends with Sara because her parents lived next door."

The more I learned about
Hunter’s past, the more my heart ached for her, and the more I wanted to protect her. But I knew she didn't want or need that from me. She'd made it clear many times she didn't need to be coddled. She needed to be treated like an equal.

I parked the car and unfastened my seatbelt. Her story had momentarily distracted me from my own nerves, but now that we were here, my anxieties had returned.
I let out a shaky breath.

I heard her soft laugh. "It's cute you're so nervous about this."

I wiped my clammy palms against my thighs. "How is this cute? My stomach is in knots."

She leaned across the center consol and brushed the hair away from my forehead. "You're always so calm and collected. It's refreshing to see you frazzled."

I let out a sardonic laugh. "Well I'm glad my nervous breakdown is productive."

She leaned over a little more and brushed her lips against mine. "We should stop delaying the inevitable."

"Or we could stay here and make-out in front of your parents' house," I mumbled against her lips.

"Mmm
...tempting," she hummed. Her eyes fluttered and I wanted to drive away from this cul-de-sac as fast as my car could go and take her back to my house.

Instead, showing an unreasonable amount of willpower, I pulled away. "Come on," I breathed, trying not to stare at her wide mouth. "Let's do this."

I climbed out of my car and started up the sidewalk that led to the front door.
Hunter's hand slid into mine and we walked the rest of the way, hand-in-hand.  I glanced at her as we ascended the concrete stairs to the front stoop, trying to read the emotions on her face. If she was still nervous, it didn't show. It settled my stomach a little more.

The front door swung open bef
ore we could even ring the doorbell. A boy, who I guessed to be Hunter’s younger brother, Brian, stood in the threshold. My gut reaction was to drop Hunter's hand, but she squeezed my hand harder, refusing to let me pull away.

"It's about time," the boy grinned.
He and Hunter had the same wide-set mouth.  Brian’s blond hair was shortly cropped; not one of those shaggy cuts popular with high school and college boys.  He looked just as crisply put-together as his older sister in a polo button up and fitted flat-front khakis. "Mom was going crazy that you'd be late and she'd have to re-heat dinner."

Hunter
put her free hand on her hip. "How long have you been spying on us, creep?" she said affectionately.

If possible, her brother's grin grew even broader. "Long enough." He wigg
led his eyebrows suggestively.

"Elle, this is my per
verted little brother, Brian."

He turned his attention to me and, like his sister, switched on his politeness. "It's nice to meet you, Elle. We've heard nothing about you.
” I felt his eyes on me. “I can see why you went gay, Grunt. I mean, I get it. I can’t blame you. I like girls, too. "

I stood there, a little dumbstruck. 
So maybe Brian didn't quite have the same polite charm of his sister.  I shouldn’t have been surprised by his response, however.               Brian, a typical teenage boy, wouldn’t know how to react to seeing the two of us together.  I’m sure his hormones were racing with typical straight boy girl-on-girl fantasies, but were complicated because one of those girls was his sister. 

Hunter
didn't appear to be affected by his behavior. She rolled her eyes. "Cute.  Real cute."

Brian took a step backwards
, and Hunter and I stepped inside. I took a moment to appraise the house, or at least what I could see of it. The front foyer was generous and was tastefully and simply decorated. The vaulted ceilings were impressive and the open-floor layout was refreshing.

I didn't know much about her family besides the fact that her parents were still together.
I knew Brian was younger, still in high school, but I didn't know his age. Her dad worked somewhere in the city, doing something financial, but I didn't know what his actual job was. And what I knew about her mother mirrored the rest of her family. She had been an interior decorator before Hunter was born, but since then had been a fulltime homemaker.  I had tried to get as much information to prepare for dinner, but Hunter hadn't been forthcoming.

"Where's Mom and Dad?"
Hunter asked, slipping out of her jacket. I instinctively took it from her even though I didn't know where to hang it up.

"Mom's in the kitchen fretting like she's making dinner for the Presid
ent.  And Dad's still at work."

Hunter
frowned. "But he's planning on coming home for dinner, right?"

"Wh
o knows.  Mom's pissed though."

Hunter's mouth went tight. "Great."

I cleared my throat, breaking up the sibling reunion. "Where should I hang this up?" I asked, pointing to Hunter's jacket.

Hunter
's face lit up with recognition. "Oh! Sorry! The closet's over there."

I nodded, thankful for the task. When I met families for the first time I liked to launch myself into chores and being helpful in the kitchen.
It was the right thing to do, but also lessened the likeliness of me being awkward if I had something busying my hands and my brain.

When I opened the closet,
I was attacked by falling board game boxes. “Holy board games,” I mumbled.  “Does your family own stock in Milton Bradley or something?” 

“No. We just love board games.  We’re pretty competitive.”
She shrugged it off. "Ready to meet my mom?"

I took a deep breath. "Ready as I'll ever be."
             

+++++