𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒆 - 𝑳𝒊𝒑 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒈𝒉𝒆𝒓 UNDER CONSTRUCTION

𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘐𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦

Steve let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Well, my mom is a bit of a germaphobe. If you want an almond from the serving dish, you'll need surgical gloves and a pair of tongs."

Debbie made her entrance into the conversation with her usual candidness. "I've met your mom. She's cool," She chimed in.

Fiona shot her a skeptical look. "You've met his mom?"

"Candace. A tad heavy on the botox and Chanel No. 5, but otherwise pretty nice," Debbie nonchalantly replied.

Fiona shrugged it off, refocusing on Steve. "So, where's this gathering happening?"

"Morton's. Downtown. My dad's got a wine locker there, complete with a fancy brass plaque bearing his name," Steve shared, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Fiona leaned in, her interest piqued. "So, everyone's invited? Even Mabel?"

Steve nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! And Mabel, just order the priciest item on the menu, and maybe just tell them you're Ian's girlfriend." 

"Ah, pretending to be Ian's girlfriend? I've got quite the experience in that department," I teased with a chuckle, earning a playful eye roll from Fiona.

»»-------------¤-------------««

The dinner that evening was nothing short of awkward, and that might even be an understatement. The whole affair kicked off with a discussion about Steve's past dating escapades, a topic that set the tone for the cringe-worthy evening. I found myself seated next to Ian, exchanging occasional comments in an attempt to alleviate the tension that hung in the air.

As we all waited for Steve's father to make his belated entrance, the room seemed to bristle with unease. Eventually, he arrived, offering an explanation for his tardiness with a medical anecdote, "Apologies for the delay, Whipple procedure on a stage-four patient," He explained as he shrugged off his jacket and took a seat. With a casualness that bordered on indifference, he turned his attention towards Fiona. "So, you must be the mysterious Fiona."

Steve chimed in to perform the introductions, "And here we have Fiona's brothers, Carl and Ian, and Ian's lovely girlfriend, Mabel." His father gave a nod of acknowledgement, his gaze briefly lingering on Ian, who seemed to catch his attention. 

Offering a polite greeting, Steve's dad addressed us, "Nice to meet you, Ian... and Mabel," His words held a curious tinge, as if something about me had sparked his interest. 

Ian placed his napkin onto the table, an abruptness in his actions, "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," He declared before standing up and making his way towards the restroom, his gaze seemingly fixed on Steve's dad.

The waiter approached our table to take our orders, prompting Steve's father to suddenly rise from his seat, a quirky excuse on his lips, "I suddenly feel the need to wash my hands." Turning towards the waiter, he placed his order with an air of nonchalance, "I'll have the iceberg lettuce salad and seabass," Before heading off toward the restroom.

After a brief interlude, both Ian and Steve's father returned to the table, resuming their places. As the evening progressed, the atmosphere gradually shifted from uncomfortable to somewhat tolerable. I found myself more of an observer than a participant, keeping my words to a minimum as I eagerly awaited the arrival of our meals, a silent prayer for a distraction from the awkwardness that had taken a hold of the dinner.

»»-------------¤-------------««

The next morning, Ian and I sauntered downstairs for a well-deserved breakfast, only to be greeted by an unexpected spectacle.  Steve and Carl were engaged in an airsoft gunfight right in the living room. Chaos had descended upon our usually 'humble' abode. Steve, using a table as makeshift cover, cried out in surprise, "Ow! I thought you said these things didn't hurt!"