Just You by Rebecca Phillips

bringing Michael around my dad’s house—sometimes
Emma had a big mouth.
    “She’ll probably find out someday,” Michael
said.
    My stomach fluttered a little. What he said
implied that he thought we’d be together for a while. Someday . Surprisingly, this word made me more happy than
scared. So happy that I leaned over and kissed him with enough
enthusiasm to erase all lingering thoughts of dreaded
parent-meetings out of both our minds. He kissed me back, his lips
moving against mine until I forgot where and who I was.
    Good thing Dad had faith in me to “stay out
of trouble”. At least one of us did.

Chapter 10
     
     
    I put it off the meet-the-parents date for
as long as I could, partly because of the “boyfriend/girlfriend”
connotations attached to it, and partly because I was afraid Emma
would mention it to Mom, who still didn’t know Michael existed. So
I waited for a night I knew Emma had a sleepover and wouldn’t be
around.
    When Michael showed up for the dreaded
Meeting/Interrogation, my father and I were downstairs waiting for
him. Leo started barking when I let Michael in. He did this
whenever he saw someone he didn’t know around our house. Only Lynn
could get this stubborn pooch to quiet down, so I didn’t even
bother trying to reprimand him. Michael didn’t mind. He crouched
down and stroked the dog’s head, and after sniffing Michael’s
hands, Leo dismissed him as a threat and finally stopping his loud
yapping. My father entered the foyer, beer in hand, just in time to
witness Michael and Leo’s bonding.
    “You! Out of here!” he bellowed, and for a
moment I thought he meant Michael and I almost passed out.
    “Dad, this is Michael,” I said, recovering
quickly.
    Michael stood up straight and wiped his dog
drool-covered hand off on his shirt before offering it to my
father. Dad laughed and shook his hand firmly. “Hello, Michael.
Steven Brogan. It’s nice to meet you.”
    “It’s nice to meet you too,” Michael said,
giving Leo another scratch under the ears. Leo sat still, his tail
smacking against the marble tile. Michael had won him over,
at least.
    “Okay.” Dad hooked the dog’s collar with two
fingers. “Come on.”
    Leo barked once in protest as Dad dragged
him away, but all was quiet when they reached the kitchen and Leo’s
freshly replenished food bowl. My father returned a few seconds
later.
    “Come in, come in,” he said, ushering us
into the living room. “Sit, sit. Anyone for a drink?”
    We both declined. I was nervous, and every
time I was nervous and ingested liquid, it instantly expanded my
bladder to near bursting. And leaving Michael alone with my father
for any length of time didn’t sit well with me. Dad seemed to be
missing the important filter most people had between their brains
and their mouths.
    “You look so familiar to me, Michael,” Dad
said, settling into his recliner. “Do I know your father?”
    Michael and I were seated on the couch
together, a few deliberate inches between us. Surprisingly he
seemed relaxed, even under my dad’s scrutinizing gaze.
    “He works at the golf course in the summer,
Dad.” I had told him this earlier, but of course he had forgotten.
My father practically lived on the golf course in the summer, so I
knew he must have met Michael without even realizing it.
    “The golf course,” Dad said, as if he’d
remembered all on his own, without my help. “Yes. I’ve seen you in
the pro shop, haven’t I?”
    “That’s right,” Michael said. “And you’re
usually with Dr. Fletcher, right?”
    My dad smiled, pleased that Michael had
recognized him too. “Dr. Fletcher. Head of the oral surgery
department at the university,” he added for my benefit. “Good ole
Fletch. He’s a shark, that one. One day...”
    Dad started talking golf-ese and my eyes
glazed over. Instead of listening, I watched Michael and wondered
what he thought of my father, and this house, as compared to his
own. Dad, while well-educated and