Cardamom Cookies

chapter six

olive was almost ready for tubbo to get to their house, and they were finishing putting on a bit of makeup.

olive was grateful that tubbo had agreed to meet their mother. if he had said no, olive wasn't sure what they would do. probably sit in their room all day and cut all contact with their friends. after the less than good friends in lisbon, and the ones in berlin before that, olive was positive that their mother would simply take away friends if she didn't think they were good for olive.

ding-dong

the doorbell rang out.

"olive! is that your friend? go open the door for her!" olive's mum shouted. olive had yet to mention that he was a guy. chances were, their mum wouldn't like it.

olive walked down the stairs, but when they got to the door, they stopped. their social life hung on how well tubbo could carry himself.

olive took a breath and opened the door.

"hello!"

"hey!" olive answered. "how are you? thanks for coming." olive stepped out of the doorway to let tubbo in. you can leave your shoes here." olive pointed at a spot next to the door. there was a small rug, with several pairs of shoes on it.

tubbo added his footwear to the rug. "thank you."

olive tapped tubbo's shoulder, and in a quiet voice said, "please be polite. like, extra super polite. if my mother decides she doesn't like you, there goes my social life."

"so you trust me?" tubbo asked. he seemed happy that olive asked him to make an impression their mum.

"well enough. and one thing she'll be looking for is if you use my pronouns."

tubbo closed his eyes for a moment and smiled. his game face was on. he went back to a more normal speaking volume, he asked, "can i get a house tour? i haven't been over before."

"of course!" olive said, matching his volume. "to your right is the parlour." olive said, and they pointed at the room next to the door. they walked through the parlour, and into the dining room. "and the dining room." they walked around the table and chairs. "and last, here's the kitchen. and my mother, aubree sanders."

tubbo stepped forward, and put his hand out for olive's mother to shake. "it's a pleasure to meet you, ms. sanders. i'm toby lake, although my friends call me tubbo."

"it's a pleasure to meet you as well, toby. i'm making spaghetti, if that's alright for you." olive's mother said.

olive wanted to disappear. it was tense in the kitchen, between tubbo trying to make a perfect impression, and their mother trying to decide if olive could be trusted making their own friends. not that it mattered at this point, olive liked their friends and didn't plan on letting their mum choose new ones for them.

"that sounds wonderful, thank you."

"good." olive's mother said. even if it had been a problem, olive doubted she would have done much.

tubbo went quiet, and olive's mum said nothing. olive hoped that tubbo could think of something to say.

"i have heard little about you. what do you do for work? i know you move a lot."

good. if in doubt, make people talk about themselves.

"i usually teach english abroad, but my most recent job is teaching french here in england, it was my second language."

"oh that's interesting. why did you learn french?" tubbo was still standing, and olive felt a little bad. they didn't want to leave their friend standing, but they really didn't want to stop the conversation since it was going so well.