I had no idea what to say.
There was an open beer on the table and maybe a half-dozen crushed cans strewn around the countertop. I really couldn’t tell if Ashley’s dad was drunk, socially inept, or just plain rude. What I could tell, from the look in his eyes and their similarity to his son’s, was that he wasn’t stupid.
Why he lived like… this… was beyond my comprehension.
“Let’s go.” Ashley tugged me toward the front door. “Scrape the old man out of his chair if he’s coming, and get him in the truck,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m buying, I’m hungry, and I’m not waiting around.”
* * *
A few hours later, after we’d dropped off Ashley’s dad and grandfather at home, and we pulled back out onto the highway, I told Ashley, “Chilliwack seems like a nice little city. Why do you dislike it so much?”
He hadn’t told me he disliked the place, exactly. But I could definitely feel him relaxing as we drove away and left it in the rearview mirror.
He hadn’t said a word when we’d dropped his family off.
They hadn’t said a word to him, either, when I’d said goodbye to them. Though his dad had shaken my hand and told me it was nice meeting me.
“It’s not the place. It’s the people,” Ashley said. “Like the two you just met.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” I told him. Honestly, it wasn’t that great meeting his father and grandfather either, but I was glad he brought me anyway.
“How about I take you to Colorado next time?” he said.
I smiled. “Sounds lovely. I’ve never been. But why Colorado?”
“You can meet my aunt Ginny. I swear to you, she’ll make up for today.”
“You have an aunt in Colorado?”
“Yeah. She’s my dad’s sister. But trust me, there’s very little resemblance. You’ll like her.” He glanced over at me. “She’ll like you.”
I studied him, the stupid smile never leaving my face. “I don’t know. This feels like a big step, Ashley. How many girls have you introduced to Aunt Ginny?”
He squirmed a little in his seat. “None, yet.”
Whoa.What?
My smile faded a notch.
Okay, thiswasa big step. I wasn’t even his girlfriend. Though I’dliketo be. We’d barely had one date—well, three, if you counted today and brunch with my family—and I’d made his penis bleed.
How had I made the cut—absolutely no pun intended—when his girlfriend of two years didn’t?
“What’s wrong?” he asked, picking up on my unease.
“Honestly, I’m just not sure I’ve earned Aunt Ginny.”
He smiled a bit. “You’ve definitely earned it. You just endured my dad’s hoarder shack and dinner in the company of my granddad.”
Actually, I’d barely endured it. The man was awful. He’d left the table at least five times to have a cigarette outside, had barely looked at his grandson, had made more than one random comment about homosexuals and earrings, and the most he’d had to say was some racist rambling behind the waitress’s back that she had, unfortunately, overheard.
His behavior had prompted me to go over to her as we were leaving and apologize. Something along the lines of,I’m so sorry… there’s no excuse… I don’t even know what to say.
She’d been nice about it, but really, she shouldn’t have been.
Who should have to endure that in the middle of their workday?
“So it’s your dad who’s the hoarder?” I asked him. I wasn’t quite sure how to broach theYour-grandfather-is-a-raging-assholeconversation. Clearly, Ashley knew what the man was. Pointing it out to him wasn’t going to make him feel any better about it.
