Chapter 35: Meeting The Family - Round Two

I haven’t been writing about my life as much as I was for a while. I got kind of busy for a few days. But I woke up that Thursday morning after a few long days feeling more rested than I had all week.

Cheryl was still asleep when I got out of bed. She’d stayed up later than I did, and while I don’t know when she came to bed, I do know that she tossed and turned a lot before she really slept. So I decided to leave her for a bit, since it was still early, and get myself cleaned up before I woke her.

I shaved, then went to the kitchen and started the coffee before I stepped into the shower. I was just nicely under the water when I heard the bathroom door open, and a few seconds later the shower curtain was pulled back a bit so someone could join me. I expected it to be Cheryl, and was surprised that it was Megan who stepped in.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey, yourself.”

“Um, John.” She hesitated, biting her bottom lip. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? No! Why?”

She blushed a bit.

“Well, you’ve kind of been avoiding me since Monday. I thought you were pissed at me for making such a mess of the place, and leaving it for you to clean up.”

I shook my head, then hugged her.

“No. Absolutely not. I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s me. I’ve been stressed about school.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’ve been having trouble finding some material I need. But Cheryl’s fixed it, I think. We were talking last night, and she suggested we try the library at U of T, to see if they have what I need. We’re going to Toronto tonight, and staying at her place.”

She smiled.

“That sounds like a good plan. And I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said. “But you’re sure you’re not mad at me? We’re ok? Promise?”

I nodded. Then I remembered the sex Cheryl had given me the morning before. Megan’s cycle was the same as Cheryl’s, so she hadn’t had any action since the end of last week.

“You horny?” I asked.

She bit her bottom lip again, and didn’t say anything. I reached down and put my hand between her legs, running my finger up her slit. She shivered. I probed a bit more, poking my finger inside her. She gasped.

“Please, John. Just get me off. It won’t take long.”

I pushed her back, slightly, till she was up against the shower wall, so she’d have something to help support her. I fucked her with my finger, then added another one, and leaned in to kiss her. She was right. It didn’t take long. It wasn’t the world’s biggest orgasm, but she came. When it passed, she kissed me one last time, then pushed me away.

“I know you have class. So do I. But I needed that. Thanks so much, John. Can I scrub your back?”

I turned, and handed her the soap.

Our showers done, we dried off, then I went and woke Cheryl, so that she could get herself ready for the day. While Cheryl showered, I made us all lunches, and when she finished dressing, she came and joined Megan and I in the kitchen.

“Hey, Roomie, John says you’re going home tonight for the weekend. Any chance I can catch a ride? I’d love to go see my grandma, if you’re ok with me tagging along.”

Cheryl glanced my way. I shrugged. It made no difference to me, one way or the other.

“Sure,” Cheryl replied. “We’re not packed yet, so we won’t leave till this evening, I don’t think. But we’re not sure yet when we’re coming back. Might be Saturday night. Might be Sunday morning. Is that a problem?”

Megan shook her head, and swallowed the mouthful of cereal she was chewing.

“Nope. Not at all. If it ends up that we go see grandma Sunday, I can just take the bus or train back. At least I won’t have to do that both ways.”

So that was set. We agreed we’d meet back at the girls’ place after class.

My Thursday went ok. I was feeling a little more optimistic about the research project I’d been worrying about, and was able to concentrate on my classes a bit more than I had earlier in the week. At the end of the day, I met up with Cheryl, and we walked back to the apartment together. Megan was already there. She’d heated up the leftover stew from Monday night, and cooked fresh noodles to go with it. I’d assumed that the girls would have eaten it already, but Megan said they’d been waiting till I was there too. It tasted pretty damn good the second time around, if I do say so myself. Maybe even better than it did the first time.

After supper, we cleaned up the dishes, and then packed what we’d need for a few days away. There was no need for anything dressy, Cheryl said, but I threw in a pair of casual slacks and a nice button-up shirt just in case. By 7:30, we were on the road, with Cheryl driving and Megan riding shotgun. She’d offered to sit in the back, but I’d said I was fine there. The evening traffic had died down, and we made good time, arriving at Megan’s place just after 9:00. We left her in her parents’ driveway, with her knapsack, after hugs and kisses all round, and then I climbed into the front seat for the short drive to Cheryl’s place.

I have to admit that I had butterflies in my stomach as we drove the couple of blocks between the houses that the girls had grown up in. And as Cheryl pulled the car into the driveway, behind the two cars that were already parked there, my nerves got worse.

The house was brightly lit, and in a part of the city that was fairly pricey, judging by the size and condition of the houses. This shouldn’t have surprised me, but I still wondered what the hell I was doing there. I felt like I was totally out of my element. Cheryl must have sensed my nerves, because she reached over and kissed me quickly before she opened her door and stepped out. I followed suit, and we grabbed the luggage from the trunk, and headed for the front door.

Cheryl led me up the steps onto the porch, and opened the door. I followed her inside. The front hallway ran back towards the kitchen, with the livingroom on one side and the diningroom beyond that. A stairway ran up the opposite side, leading to the upper floors. The house was narrow but deep, and the slate floor in the hallway and the carpet on the stairs looked both expensive and well-maintained.

We set our bags down in the hall, and Cheryl called out that she was home. Her mother responded from the livingroom. Cheryl took a deep breath, reached for my hand, and led me in to meet her parents, who rose from the chairs that they had been relaxing in as we entered.

“Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, John. John, this is Mom and Dad.”

Cheryl went and gave her mother a hug, while her father held out his hand to me.

“Good to meet you, John. Call me Dave.”

“Good to meet you, too.”

Then I turned to Cheryl’s mother. It was like looking at a picture of my girlfriend that someone had put through one of those programs that show you what you’ll look like in 25 years. The face was older, and the clothing more conservative, but the resemblance was uncanny.

“John, I’m Molly. It’s great to meet you.”

She gave me a tentative hug.

“Did you have supper before you left?” Molly asked. Cheryl nodded. “Well, do you want a snack? There’s some nice cheese that I picked up on the way home. You could take some upstairs with you if you want.”

“That’d be nice, Mom. But maybe we could all sit in here, and have a snack and a drink together? Can I come help you get it ready?”

Molly raised her eyebrows, but said nothing, and the women left the room. Dave turned to me.

“Well, if you’re dating my daughter, I assume you drink. Want a beer? I just got one for myself a minute ago.”

“I’d love one.”

He took me to the diningroom, where a small bar fridge sat in one corner, filled with beer and wine. Opening it, he showed me what he had on hand, and I selected a nice-looking craft dark ale. He took a glass from the cupboard above the fridge, and after I’d poured, we went back into the livingroom and sat down just as Cheryl and her mother returned. Cheryl was holding a large board with some cheeses and sausage and crackers, which she set on the coffee table.

“I’m going to grab some wine. Can I top yours up, Mom?”

Her mother held out her nearly empty glass, and Cheryl left and came back quickly and sat beside me on the couch. I helped myself to some cheese and crackers. It was a lovely selection - there was some brie and some blue and a piece of old white cheddar, and a couple of different kinds of salami. I suddenly found that I was hungrier than I should have been, considering we’d had a pretty good dinner just before we got in the car.

“Well, Cheryl,” Molly said, after she took a sip of wine, “you’ve brought lots of boys home over the years, but I think that this is the first time you’ve encouraged one to sit down and chat with us. Does this mean that there’s something we should be worried about?”

Cheryl blushed and shook her head.

“No, Mom, there’s nothing to be worried about. I just thought ... well, I haven’t seen you for a while ... and I thought it would be nice for you to have a chance to meet John. That’s all.”

Dave sat back, a napkin with cheese and crackers in his hand. He winked at me.

“Well, son, I’ve never done this before, but I think I’m supposed to ask you some questions about yourself.”

“Dad!” Cheryl shrieked.

He smiled at her, then turned back to me.

“You’re a student, right?”

I nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Drop the sir. Really. Are you working on your BBA, like Cheryl is?”

“No, Dad, he’s not in Business. He’s an Arts student.”

“I’m majoring in history,” I added, “likely with a minor in English lit. I’m hoping to be a high school teacher.”

Both adults nodded.

“That’s a good profession,” Dave said. “Hard work, though, and you don’t always get a lot of respect, from your students or from the community at large. But worthwhile.”

“So if you’re not in the same program,” Molly wondered, “how did you end up meeting? Were you at a party together?”

“No,” Cheryl said. “I met him in class. Do you remember last fall I had to take that Canadian history course? And I had so much trouble with it?”

Dave nodded.

“I remember hearing a lot of swearing about it, at least.”

“Well, John was in that class. I sat beside him. And you’d have heard a lot more swearing about it if he hadn’t taken pity on me and helped me pass it.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it pity,” I commented. Cheryl ignored me.

“John’s a natural teacher. He really is. Anyone who can make me understand why the life story of our Prime Ministers is relevant to understanding what they did while they were in government has a gift. I would never have passed that course - let alone learned anything from it - if he hadn’t been there.”

“That’s nice, dear,” Molly replied. “But if you’ve been dating for over a year, why haven’t we met him before this? You should have brought him to the cottage this summer.”

Cheryl shook her head.

“We haven’t been dating for a year, Mom. We’ve only been dating for about 6 weeks. We took that course together, and he met up with me a couple of times in the library to help me get through it. And then we didn’t see each other for a while, after that term ended. Well, that’s not quite true. We ran into each other once in the winter, and he asked me out. And I ... I made fun of him, and turned him down.”

“Cheryl!” Molly said.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I think I’m improving, lately, but I need to say, your daughter can be a horrible bitch sometimes. And that was one of the times.”

“So then what happened?” Dave asked. “Obviously you’re together now. You changed your mind and said yes?”

“Not really,” Cheryl said, sadly. “Listen, I want to tell you this story. But you need to know it’s not a nice story. It ends well, but ... well, it doesn’t make me look very good.”

I reached over and squeezed her hand. I didn’t see why she needed to start into this story, but it seemed she was hell bent on doing it, and I knew there was no point in trying to stop her. I’d never told this story to anyone, and I wasn’t going to, but she kept telling it, over and over.

“So, back in October, I went out one Friday night with Candice. You remember her, right?”

Both parental units looked blank.

“She’s been at the cottage the past couple of summers. You’ve met her. Black hair? Implants?”

Dave didn’t say anything, but the look on his face suggested he knew who she was talking about. Molly glared at him.

“Anyway, Candice and I went out drinking one night. Megan couldn’t come, or this story would have a different ending, cause she would have looked after me. So we met these three guys, and then Candice ditched me.

“I was really drunk. Really. It was bad. And they kept buying me more. And talking about how much fun I was going to be.

“Then they stepped out back to smoke up, and I came to my senses enough to realize that if I didn’t get out of there, somehow, and fast, I was going to end up getting raped. So I stood up and made it out the front door.

“Then I threw up, all over the sidewalk, and when I straightened up, John was there. I recognized him, I guess, though I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anything after I left the bar. I guess I kind of collapsed into his arms. He saw how shitfaced I was, and decided he couldn’t leave me there. So he carried me to his place. Once we got there, he undressed me and cleaned me up, then put me to sleep in his bed. He slept on the couch.

“The next morning, when I woke up, I had no idea where I was. It was awful. I knew I was in some guy’s bedroom but I didn’t know whose, or how the hell I had gotten there. My purse was beside the bed but the battery in my phone was dead. I was naked, except for my panties. There was a t-shirt with my purse, so I pulled that on. I found the bathroom, and in there I found my dress, totally covered in barf.

“I decided I needed to be a big girl for once, so I took a deep breath, and walked down the hallway to try to figure out where I was and what I’d done, and face up to whatever was going to happen next.

“And there was John, sitting at the kitchen table. He poured me water and coffee, and he gave me some Tylenol. And he told me what had happened.

“Honestly, if it weren’t for John coming past that bar when he did, I might not be alive tonight. Those guys I was with that night were pretty awful. I know that now, in hindsight. It would have been a gang rape, and for all I know they would have killed me when they were finished with me. And even John could have done pretty much anything that he wanted to with me. I was completely out of it. But he didn’t. He was just a nice guy. I mean, if my dress hadn’t been covered in puke, he would never have even taken that off me.

“I realized how nice he’d been and that I’d totally fucked up the shot I had had at him, and I started to cry. Like, I totally lost it. And as I cried, he asked me out. Again. And I said yes. We’ve been together ever since.”