Page 97 of Obey

“It looks like my parents are here, Half-Pint. I’m sorry. I didn’t ask them to come, and if you’re not up to it, I’ll send them away.”

She sits up, stretching and rubbing her bleary eyes. “No, it’s okay. You go down and I’ll be down in a sec, okay?”

I’m reluctant to leave her, but she shoos me out the door. “Go, before your mom calls the police.” Her smile is assuring. “It’s all good, I’m ready.”

It’s not her I’m worried about.

When I yank open the door, Mom thrusts a giant box of donuts at me as she pushes past. “I need more information Jagger. You can’t drop on me that you have a girlfriend and expect me to go on about my life like this isn’t a monumental event. I need details.” She’s already well on her way to the kitchen, the coffee’s probably on and mugs out on the counter by the time Dad steps into the doorway with a shrug, holding his hands up.

“I tried to hold her back, son. I did my best.” He pulls me into a tight hug. “Good to see you, you’re looking great.”

“Hi, Dad.”

He jerks his chin toward the tornado that is my mother. “She hasn’t taken a breath from speaking at me since you told her about Talia. She’s also heavily caffeinated, and has already picked out your children’s names.” He pats my chest. “Doesn’t matter if the two of you don’t want any kids, she’s planned your whole future, and she’s eying that house on the corner. I had to pull her phone out of her hands so she didn’t call the realtor.”

Her excitement is sweet, but I’m concerned about Mom’s caffeine-fueled energy being too much for my Half-Pint. Dad swings the door closed behind him, and we head into the kitchen. Mom’s got mugs out, milk out, and she’s already working on the expensive coffee machine she bought me twoChristmases ago—because she needed my house to have fancy coffee for her visits—working hard.

“Mom? I need you to take a breath, please.” She rounds on me, eyes narrowing like a shark smelling blood in the water. It takes her all of a second of looking at my face before she shrieks and claps her hands together.

“Is she here? She’s here, isn’t she?”

Holding up my hand, I shake my head. “Mom, she’s not prepared to meet you this morning, so unless you cool your jets, I’m kicking you both out, keeping the donuts, and drinking the coffee with my girl.”

Her eyes widen. She knows I’m not kidding. I’ll absolutely kick her out and keep her caffeine and sugar.

She heaves out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I know I’m over-excitable, honey. It’s been so long since you’ve brought anyone home. She must be so special. I have no chill.” She holds up her hands. “First to admit it.” She tilts her head. “But you have to at least give mesomething. Then I’ll eat my Boston cream donut, drink my frou-frou coffee, and go back to kicking your dad’s ass at crossword puzzles and Sudoku.”

Dad groans behind me. “Adding extra boxes and filling in squares ischeating, Mariam. Not winning.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

A giggle from the doorway draws all of our attention to the fearsome, blue-haired terror standing in one of my shirts that comes all the way down to her knees, and a pair of my shorts that damn near reach the floor. “Sorry.” She hugs her arms around her middle like a belt. “Unexpected sleepover. I offered to go home, but he’s protective. And his clothes are way too big. I felt like my little black dress from last night was probably a bitextrafor meeting the parents.”

Not to mention it’s covered in cum.

Her face gets pinker and pinker as she talks, and her words get faster. She steps forward. “Talia Barclay. It’s lovely to meet you both.” She shakes Dad’s hand, but Mom’s vibrating at an unnatural frequency reserved only for children on Christmas morning, moms meeting their son’s girlfriends, and Black Friday sales.

She pauses, arms outstretched, like her brain caught up to her body. “Hugger?” She hooks her thumb at me. “He’s not really much of a people person. How do we feel about people?”

Talia’s giggling.

“Never mind people,” Dad says. “How do we feel about cheating at the crossword?”

Talia points at Mom. “Love people, love hugs, and he’s a people person for the right people.” She flashes the smile that could make my knees buckle in a heartbeat, then points to Dad. “I feel like cheating is a strong word, Mr. Coleman. I prefer to call it, uh, creative interpretation of the suggested method of completing the activity.”

Mom grins. “You can stay.”

Talia approaches, arms outstretched. “I mean, thank you, but realistically the only guy who can make me leave is the surly looking grump with his Mom’s eyes, his Dad’s jaw, and a severe resting b-i-t-c-h face.”

Dad steps forward to shake her hand. “Earl, nice to meet you, Talia. We haven’t heard much about you at all, but I’m sure that won’t surprise you. I hope you’re ready to be sufficiently grilled because my wife is bursting at the seams to talk to you.” He turns to Mom. “We didn’t actually know you’d be here this morning. But, she brought donuts. Hopefully the trade-off of still-warm sugar will be enough for the rapid-fire question time that’s about to befall you.”

Dad shakes his head. “She’s excited is all.”

“We were starting to think he would scare everyone off with his prickly exterior.”

Talia laughs, stepping forward to move one coffee cup out of the machine and put another in. When she presses the button to start it, she hands the mug to Mom. “I mean, he gave it a pretty good shot. He was downright rude when we first met. But I’m stubborn.” She plants her hands on her hips. “And I wasn’t letting a little snow and a grumpy hulk of a man get the better of me in a confined space.”

Chuckling, I pull out a chair for her, indicating she should sit and let me handle the drinks. A little snow, she says. Enough to shut down an airport in the Midwest.

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