Love in his Lie

Suburbs

It was hard to fight Mindy's logic. As much as I loved Szechuan Duck's lo mein, we'd been eating leftovers from various takeout places for what felt like years. Every few days, we'd place another large order at some nearby takeout restaurant while our kitchen appliances remained dusty and unused. We found that after working an oven all day, neither of us particularly wanted to poise ourselves over a stove top at night.

So, after much grumbling and second guessing, I headed to the nearest metro station. From there, the train took me out of the city and towards the suburbs. Leaning against the window, I saw the dark monotony of underground tunnels shift into the charming landscape of cozy rowhomes and cottages. It was easy to forget about the house I grew up in when I was in the city. However, just seeing the street view of Justin's house was enough to bring back my ever constant feeling of homesickness. I kept these emotions tucked away where I couldn't feel them until they eventually became too much and imploded. However, usually my yearly trips home were enough to ease the pressure and relieve the pain around my heart.

I moved away from my hometown almost a decade ago to attend an out-of-state college. I thought I was being fun and adventurous by finding a school so far from home, but now it just felt lonely. Mindy was my saving grace. She kept me going in between holidays. I usually couldn't afford more than one trip back home each year, and I always flip-flopped between Thanksgiving and Christmas. This arrangement, however, was out of respect for my mother, who desperately wanted me home for Christmas festivities. Had it been my way, I'd just show up for Thanksgiving every year. Christmas presents could be shipped, a roasted turkey could not. I was looking forward to having a home cooked meal at Justin's house, seeing as Thanksgiving was the last time I had one.

I considered taking a cab from the station, since the metro didn't have any nearby stops in the well-to-do neighborhood of Cherry Grove. However, it was only a thirty-minute walk, and I figured I could use the time to psyche myself up to prepare for what was certain to be an awkward night.

As much as I liked Justin, I knew little about him other than some things I picked up here and there. Would the fact I knew his favorite ice cream was cherry chip, really make up for the fact I didn't know where he graduated? Or that he loved to watch Bruce Willis movies, but I didn't know his age? Of course, there was the one rather crucial gap in my knowledge—his last name. How could I greet his parents when I didn't have a surname to tack on to the Mr. and Mrs.?

This dilemma was why I ended up doing laps around the pristine neighborhood in Cherry Grove, even after my half hour march from the metro station. Every time I did a circle of the block, I found a new thing to adore about Justin's childhood home. Their trellises with their creeping vines and lavender flowers; the stone slabs that cut a path from the driveway, through the ferns, and up to the front steps; and the blooming cherry tree sprinkling its springtime blossoms across the perfectly green grass.

It was while I was admiring the brickwork on the chimney that I nearly strode straight into the thick chest of a very stern-looking man.

"Excuse me," I said, my voice squeaking with embarrassment. I caught myself before I did too much damage, but that wasn't before I stepped on his toe. However, the tall, broad-shouldered fellow didn't seem to register any of it. Instead, he continued to glare down at me with his arms crossed and his stance as unmoving as stone. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going and..."

"I've watched you walk this block going on five times now. Be honest with me and maybe I won't call the cops. Are you scoping this house?" He kicked his head towards Justin's parents' home and I felt a flash of heat coat my cheeks. If this guy had noticed me skulking about, maybe they'd seen me, too. Maybe Justin had seen me and was already thinking of a reason to turn me away.

"I, uh, no, it's just..."

"Look," he said with a soft growl rolling in his throat, "I'm not so foolish as to fall for the whole innocent girl routine. I know women are just as capable of thievery as men, so don't think you can just bat your eyelashes and pout your lips..."

"I-I'm not pouting," I barked back, though in my indignation, my lip did in fact stick out with my glare. Sensing my mistake, I bit back my lower lip and turned away.

"Then, enlighten me. What is it you are doing?"

"I'm, uh..." I took a deep breath while I weighed out what was more embarrassing—being taken as a thief or admitting to why I was even there. "I'm supposed to have dinner here tonight and I'm just nervous. It's kind of a big step. You see, I'm supposed to meet," I paused and chewed on my words, "my significant other's parents tonight and I'm just... Well, I'm nervous." I didn't know if significant other was the right term, but I worried if I told him "guy that I've been flirting with for six months and potentially had one hell of a drunken night with's parent's house," he wouldn't have taken me seriously.

"Danielle?" His shoulders dropped and the expression on his square, well-trimmed face loosened, though he kept his arms crossed over his chest.

"Yeah," I said, peering up into his dark blue eyes. "How did you know?"

"Because I'm Justin's brother, Wes," he said with a sigh and a shake of his head. "Come on, I promise they won't bite."

I debated how true that was given the reception I just received from him, but at that point I couldn't just run for it. So I commanded my shaking legs forward and followed Wes up the stone path to the house.

"I should apologize," he said as he reached the porch and opened the screen door. "I try to help my dad out with his neighborhood watch duties whenever I'm home. His knee has never been that good since he retired from the military."

"Right," I said, with a nod, filing away that little tidbit of family history for later. "Well, no worries, I understand."

"Still," he said as he turned the handle of the front door, "maybe consider working your nerves out beforehand next time. Don't need your future in-laws thinking you're a thief."

"In-laws?" I asked, my voice a scratchy whisper as I digested the words, my question utterly lost in the fervent excitement of my welcome as Justin's family poured out of the door.