Like Fire & Gasoline

“James,” Bridgette giggled, watching the street signs carefully. “Where are you taking me?”

James laughed, shaking his head playfully. His fingers were entangled with hers over the center console, his other hand resting lazily on the steering wheel. His eyes landed on her for a quick moment before he turned them back to the road.

“Sorry babe,” he shrugged, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it gently. “That’s not how these things work.”

“But James,” she whined, racking her memory for anything to give her a hint. She came up with none and huffed dramatically, attempting to pout. James laughed, navigating the streets with a certain expertise.

“We’re almost there,” he assured her.

Bridgette sat up a bit straighter, taking in the surrounding blocks. She bit her lip, confusion enveloping her entire face.

“James, this is a residential area,” she said slowly, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. “No, James. Please tell me this isn’t what I think.”

“Bridge, relax,” he chuckled, giving her fingers a small squeeze.

“James, you don’t get it. I’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents before. Never. Not even once,” Bridgette rambled, her eyes bulging with just the thought.

“Bee, babe, it’s gonna be okay.”

“James…” she sighed, running her free hand through her hair. “I’m scared.”

“Lemme get this straight. You’re afraid to meet my parents?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” Bridgette asked exasperatedly, leaning her head against the cool window, trying to refocus her thoughts.

Were her jeans too casual? Was her shirt too low cut? Was her makeup too much? Her head felt like it was going to explode, and her boyfriend was not helping. She clenched and unclenched her fists, allowing her nails to sink into the soft flesh of her palm, leaving crescent moon indents.

“Your father is the definition of scary and intimidating as far as parents go, but you’re afraid of my parents? My parents are really chill, and, I mean really, I don’t think anyone can be worse than your dad.”

Bridgette shot him a glare, her eyes mere slits.

“For the record, my dad doesn’t strike fear in my core. I’m not the one trying to date his daughter. I am said daughter. So I escape his wrath and remain on his good side. This is completely new territory for me.”

“A boy has really never brought you to meet his parents?”

“Honestly, I mean, aside from guys that were just friends. I have never hard a boyfriend who wanted to introduce me to his parents,” she repeated, an anxious edge to her voice.

“Look, Bee, you’re gonna be fine. They already love you from what I’ve told them.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at James.

“You talk about me?”

James shrugged, kissing the back of her hand once more. A sly smile was on his face as he turned the corner.

“Of course I do. You mean the world to me, and you make me happy. You’re part of my life, and I want the world to know.”

Bridgette bit her lip, nodding slowly as he pulled into a driveway. The ranch house was cute and the definition of suburban neighborhoods. A pathway cut through the emerald green grass, lined with perfectly trimmed hedges.

“So what do you say, you ready for this?” James asked, cutting the engine. Bridgette took a shaky breath, a grin spreading on her face.

“Okay,” she consented. “Let’s do this.”

James met her at the beginning of the path and put a soothing arm around her. She summoned all her courage and tugged at her shirt a bit as they approached the seemingly unthreatening house.

She entered the foyer, looking around amazed. The entryway was lined with photos of James and his siblings, along with who she assumed to be his relatives. A small beam was on her face as she admired a picture taken when James was just a little kid.

“You were adorable,” she laughed, looking up at him. He smirked, pulling her close.

“What do you mean, were?” he teased, and she opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by footsteps.

“James, you’re home,” a middle aged woman smiled, wrapping her arms around him. Bridgette could tell from the grin and spark in her eyes it was his mom. A few moments later, a man came in, almost identical to James aside from the laugh lines and graying hair.

“Hey, look, it’s the long lost son!”

“Hi Mom, hey Dad,” James said, and Bridgette absentmindedly pulled closer to him.

“Who is this lovely lady friend?” his father asked, making Bridgette blush.

“Mom, Dad, this is Bridgette. Bridgette, these are my parents,” he said proudly.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Maslow,” she murmured shyly.

To her utter shock, Mrs. Maslow threw her arms around Bridgette in a sweet embrace.

“It is so nice to finally get to meet you, Darling. I’ve heard so many great things about you from Jamie.”

“You’re just as pretty as James said,” Mr. Maslow stage whispered, and James rolled his eyes, hiding his face in his hand.

“Mom, Dad, really?”

Bridgette squeezed his hand, feeling her nerves melt away completely as her body relaxed. Something about the kind twinkle in his mother’s eyes and the steady grin on his father’s face made her feel at home.

“Well, take your coats off, stay awhile kids. Bridgette, darling, I wanna hear all about how you and James met. And I made dinner, you are hungry, right?”

“It sounds perfect.”

“If her questions get to be too much, I’ll make a distraction, choke on my water or fall dramatically from my chair so the two of you can slip away,” Mr. Maslow joked.

“Oh, hush honey,” his wife scolded, continuing to ramble on.

“You okay?” James whispered in her ear. She nodded up at him, her whole face lighting up.

“I’m amazing. James, they’re really great.”

“See? Nothing to worry about. I do have to warn you of something though.”

“What?”

“See, my parents already love you. There’s no way I can let you go now.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I have no intention of going anywhere except the dining room, huh?”

He kissed the top of her head, taking in her sweet scent. “Good.”