Easier Said Than Done

Sunday, I was standing in the kitchen, wringing my hands together with nerves. I was wearing dark-wash jeans and a nice shirt, wanting to look nice, but not like I was trying way too hard to make Sam’s parents like me. And the last thing I wanted was to make it look like I had to try in order to make them like me.

“Will you stop pacing?” Aileen sighed from the table. “His parents are going to love you. Despite the fact that you were raised by Mom.”

I shot her a look. “As encouraging as that is…” Rolling my eyes, I dragged out the seat next to Aileen. “I don’t know. I just…what if I’m not polite enough? You know how nice Sam is.”

“That I do,” she grinned. “But you’ll be fine. Just remember to say please and thank you and all that crap.”

“Nice advice,” I responded sarcastically.

There was a knock on the door, so I got out of my seat and made my way to the door. Instead of saying hello, the second I saw Sam’s face, I blurted, “Do you think your parents are going to like me?”

He stopped for a second, taken aback by my outburst. “Of course I think they’re going to like you. Why would I introduce you to them if I thought they’d hate you?”

“I guess you have a point there,” I muttered.

“Do you think my parents are uptight of something? ‘Cause they’re really friendly and easygoing.” Sam laughed. “I didn’t know you’d get so worked up about it.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s get going, okay?”

“Sounds good. Bye, Aileen. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Sam!” she sing-songed, waving.

I closed the door behind us before letting out a chuckle. “God, she’s just too much.”

“I think it’s nice.”

“You don’t think it’s the least bit creepy?” I raised a doubtful eyebrow at him.

“Okay…maybe a little bit.”

I smirked as I climbed into the passenger’s seat. After buckling my seatbelt, I reached for the radio, changing it from the current pop station he listened to (which typically played commercials with the occasional song in between) to my oldies station. Sunglasses at Night by Corey Hart filled the car, and I tried to sing along, even though I never understood what he was saying.

“Is that English?” Sam called me out as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Um…” I trailed off, shaking my head. “Not really.”

He let out a laugh, which started the silence that lasted until we pulled into Sam’s driveway a few minutes later. “Ready to see me completely embarrassed?”

“Absolutely,” I responded, climbing out of the car. “Think they’ll show me some baby pictures? Little baby Sammy in the tub?”

“They better not,” Sam muttered, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Just don’t let them.”

“I’m not guaranteeing that,” I snickered as Sam opened the door.

“Mom!” he called out. “Dad?”

“In the kitchen, sweetheart,” his mom’s voice sounded from the kitchen. He nodded toward it, leading the way and grabbing my hand. I followed, taking in my surroundings as we went.

Sam’s house was pretty nice. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t pretentiously huge. All the rooms had a set theme and color and were decorated around that.

“Mom’s an interior decorator,” Sam whispered to me as an explanation.

I nodded, mouthing, ‘Oh.’

We stepped into the kitchen, which was yellow and bright, where Sam’s mom was cooking something on the stove. His dad was sitting at the kitchen table, and it looked like he was in the middle of saying something when we interrupted.

“Mom, Dad,” Sam introduced. “This is Ellie.”

“Hi,” I greeted shyly. A voice in the back of my head nagged that I wasn’t being very polite, but I was more overwhelmed by fear.

“Hey, Ellie,” Mrs. Evans greeted, coming over to give me a hug. “We’ve heard so much about you, hon.” Her thick Southern accent was endearing and homey.

“Nice to meet you,” Mr. Evans added from the kitchen table, raising his hand in a wave.

I smiled, giving a small wave back.

“Make yourself at home, hon. If you sit down at the table, I’ll get you some chocolate chip cookies.”

My face lit up, even though I tried to hide it. Sam let out a laugh at my enthusiastic reaction, but I ignored him.

Slightly awkwardly, I made my way over to the table and sat next to Mr. Evans. “So, Ellie,” Mr. Evans started while Mrs. Evans scurried around, getting out some cups for milk, “what’s your favorite subject in school?”

“Probably English,” I admitted. Even though I couldn’t see him, I could hear Sam pulling a chair over next to me.

“Do you get good grades?”

“Pretty good,” I responded. “I mostly get A’s, with the occasional B in math. I’m not that great at math. I usually have to get Sam to help me out.”

“Sam always has been good at math,” Mr. Evans agreed, nodding. “Even when he was a little kid, he used to get these giant ladybug stickers on his papers. He was so proud of those stickers.”

“That’s cute,” I replied, sneaking a grin at Sam. He was sighing, as if this was just the beginning of a long list of things he didn’t want anyone to know.

“Here you go, hon,” Mrs. Evans said as she put down the plate of cookies in the middle of the table, followed by cups of milk in front of Sam and me.

“You’re not going to have any cookies, Mr. Evans?” I asked, reaching for one.

“Oh, no. I already had four when she was making them,” he laughed.

“Wow, these are fantastic,” I gushed when I bit into one. Shockingly, they actually rivaled Kurt’s cookies. Part of me wanted to suggest that the two of them have an epic bake-off, but I figured that making a joke like that probably wasn’t quite appropriate yet. I didn’t want Sam’s parents to think I was weird.

Even though I kind of was…but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

As if they smelled the cookies upstairs, Sam’s little brother and sister bounded into the room. Each of them took a handful and started shoving them into their mouths before they realized I was sitting there.

“Hi,” his little sister said with a chocolatey grin. “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, thank you,” I replied, sneaking a smile at Sam. “You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.”

Her face broke into a huge grin as she got up on her tip-toes. “I like her,” she announced into Sam’s ear a little too loudly.

“Me, too,” Sam stage-whispered back.

Soon, Mrs. Evans shooed the two of them out of the kitchen. “So, Ellie, you seem like a lovely young lady.”

“Thank you,” I granted. “I’m glad you think so.”

Sam squeezed my hand, partly to encourage me and partly, I think, to say ‘I told you so’ in a more sophisticated manner.

“You’re welcome over the house anytime.”

“I appreciate that. I’m hoping that sometime everyone can come over my house for dinner and you can meet my older sister.”

“Your older sister?”

Shit. Did they not know that? Oh, man. They approved of me, and I just dug myself into a hole. “Yes,” I replied, hoping that my pause for freaking out hadn’t been as long as I thought it was. “I live with her because my previous home life…wasn’t very stable. But she’s thirty and very responsible.”

“I see. Well, we’d love to meet her,” Mrs. Evans responded. Was it just me, or was the smile on her face pulled too tightly?

“Mom and Dad, Ellie and I are going to out for ice cream. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Have fun!” Mr. Evans called after us.

“Do they hate me because of Aileen?” I whined. “Why did I open my big dumb mouth?”

“I don’t think they think it’s a big deal,” Sam reassured me. “Trust me, they liked you.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because when Quinn was over, they just glared at her. At times, they interrogated her like she was some kind of criminal.” Sam shook his head. “I guess they could just see that she didn’t like me as much as I liked her.”

“I’m just glad they didn’t hate me for all the shit I’ve put you through,” I responded, lacing my fingers through his.

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“My thoughts exactly.” A smile spread across my face as I climbed into Sam’s car, knowing that I had nothing to stress about.