I got an object lesson of exactly how a family was supposed to treat one another over fall break. I actually blew off my last class on Thursday so we could leave for her parent’s house at lunchtime. When I’d Googled directions it said the trip would take about seven and a half hours for the drive, but Mitch’s bombastic personality extended to her driving, and we got there before seven.
When we pulled into the driveway her mom and dad were waiting on the porch. There were definitely butterflies swirling around in my stomach. Would they like me? What would I need to do to win their approval?
Mitch hopped out of her truck and opened her arms as her mom gave her a big hug. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s so good to see you.”
“Hi, Mom.”
I quietly opened my door and climbed out, standing silently on the other side of the truck. As Mitch and her mom talked.
Her mom stood back and looked her daughter over. “It looks like they’re feeding you okay.”
“Yeah. Five pounds of muscle. Check it out.” Mitch flexed her impressively toned arm, making her mom laugh and slap her shoulder playfully.
“Oh, Michelle. Go hug your father. He misses you.”
Mitch jumped to obey, and her mom fixed her kind gaze on me, holding out her arms as she walked around Mitch’s truck.
“Oh Cindy, it’s good to see you.”
“Hi, Mrs. Kirkpatrick. Thanks for having me.”
“Oh, pish. It’s an honor. And I’m Stacy.”
The blush I was already wearing deepened as she wrapped me in her embrace. When she let me go Mitch and her dad were digging our bags out of the back. Mrs. Kirkpatrick linked her arm in mine. “I hope you’re hungry. I made homemade pizza. It’s Michelle’s favorite.”
“I’m starving. Mit, ah, Michelle has told me so many amazing stories about your cooking.”
“Oh, you’re sweet.”
She led me inside to an informally set table and the amazing aroma of garlic and oregano. Her dad dished up slices of the rectangular pie, all while holding a spirited debate with his daughter about the Saturday’s Florida-Georgia football game.
It was a little weird hearing my girlfriend exclusively referred to as Michelle, but she fit here. And her parents were unerringly kind to me.
Her father, who insisted I call him Jack, looked across the table at me, pointing towards his daughter. “I can’t believe I raised a damn traitor, Cindy. She grew up on Gator football.”
“Hey! Cindy’s a Bulldogs fan, too!”
“She’s from Georgia, Michelle. That’s understandable. You though,” he shook his head.
I smiled and leaned over to Stacy. “Are they going to be okay watching the game together Saturday?”
“Oh, sweetie, they’re always like this. They love it. He was just miserable when she went away to college.”
They continued their spirited debate throughout dinner and into the kitchen as they cleaned up after the meal. Stacy led me into their living room, sitting down next to me on the sofa, holding my hand in both of hers.
“Now, tell me all about how you two met.”
I grinned and told the story, listening to the easy banter and laughter coming from the kitchen.
“So she’s a good girlfriend? Makes you happy?”
“She’s the best. Always smiling and making me laugh. I get too intense sometimes; she reminds me life isn’t all about Tennis and studying.”
“I wished she’d studied a little more in High School, sometimes.”
“She’s working hard now. You’d be proud of her.”
“I am, but I don’t think I’m the one she wants to make proud.”
“Her dad?”
Stacy laughed. “No, silly.” She put her hand on my knee and shook it. “You. When you first met, all she could talk about was how smart her new friend was. That, and how pretty she was. She wants you to be proud of her.”
I blushed, not able to think of anything to say.
“Now, we’re going out for a nice dinner Saturday night. Did you bring anything nice to wear?”
I grimaced. “Not really. Michelle didn’t say anything about it.”
She patted my leg, looking absolutely gleeful. “That’s okay, dear. We’ll go shopping Saturday morning. My treat.”
I heard the sound of the dishwasher start, and Mitch and her dad made their way into their family room, turning on the Thursday night NFL game. Stacy and I joined them, and I sat next to my girlfriend, who put her arm around me as I leaned against her. Her mom worked on a knitting project in her chair, and I just took in the happiness of this family being together, and I wished, someday, that I could be a part of something like this.
“Your parents are really going to let us stay together?” I was changing for bed in Mitch’s room as she did the same.
“Yeah, sure. We share a bed every night at school. What’s the difference?”
“There’d be a difference to my parents.”
“My parents are pretty cool. I mean, they adapted to the whole butch lesbian thing, so I think they can handle me cuddling through the night with my girlfriend.”
I laughed and we climbed between the sheets, sharing a few soft goodnight kisses before I settled in as the little spoon. “Your parents are great though.”
“Yeah. I got lucky.”
“Your mom wants to take me shopping Saturday.”
“I thought she might.”
***
The next day Mitch took me around to all of her old stomping grounds. We hit some balls on the courts where her dad had taught her to play, and had lunch at her favorite ice cream parlor. It wasn’t the healthiest lunch.
At two thirty we arrived at her old High School, just before dismissal. She stopped into half a dozen rooms, always receiving the same exuberant response from the teachers inside. She proudly introduced me as her girlfriend each time, and I got to hear several great stories about a younger, less inhibited Mitch Kirkpatrick, if you can believe that.