"Well, you're in luck. Mom, Dad--this is Grey. My boyfriend."
My mother appears to glitch, her head tilting slightly and her face caught in some weird smile, closer to what a robot thinks a smile looks like than an actual smile. It freezes as she takes the formerly shirtless, sweaty, older, massive Grey in--his height, those broad shoulders, the silver at his temples, his beard. This is very clearly not what she pictured when I told her about the mystery guy. I watch her recalibrate in real time.
"Oh!" She recovers badly. "This is…your…it's so nice to meet you!"
Dad says nothing, just stares.
Grey steps forward, confident, polite, extending a gigantic hand to my father. "Nice to meet you, sir."
I think that my small, nerdy father is actually trying to test Grey's grip, and they engage in a brief staring contest. Mom and I watch like a couple of stunned hens.
Be nice, please be nice, please be nice.
Mom's voice is overly bright and an octave too high. "So! Grey! You're…you're the…friendhelping Molly with the house?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"She hasn't told us much about you," she says, shooting me a look. "How do you know each other?"
"I'm a teacher at the high school, the baseball coach."
Dad looks at the house. "You've been doing all this?" It sounds like a sort of grudging respect. I hope.
"Yes, sir. It's been a project. Molly's got a good eye for what the place needs, and she loves to learn." I almost choke. Grey doesn't flinch. "She'll have to walk you through, show you everything she's done."
"How old are you?" Dad asks bluntly.
Shit, shit, shit.
"Dad--" I start.
"Forty-four, sir."
Mom pales. Dad's jaw tightens. Both of them silently bug out.
"And how long have you been…involved with my daughter?" Dad asks. I don't think Mom can speak.
"A few months."
Her face swivels to mine, touched with hurt. "You didn't say it's been a few months."
"I told you I was seeing someone. You knew!"
"But we didn't know it was…"Him. This. WTF.
We stand there through a moment of awkward silence. Grey is still steady and solid next to me.
"Well," he says, "it's nice to meet y'all. I have some errands to run, so I'm gonna head out."
My insides screech like a monkey, thrashing and fighting the thought.No! No we had eleven days! Eleven whole days! And now…now…
I fight back tears. Try to smile. He sees it, looks at me in a way that makes me feel better.It's going to be okay.
It's going to be okay.
Please god let it be okay.
Eleven days. Gone.
