Chasing Empty Spaces

Chapter 8

His father's disbelief was palpable inside of the dining room.

"To see Gemma," Harry quickly added. His hands were restless as they toyed with a napkin underneath the table. Harry looked between his mother and father, "I haven't seen her since the move and I thought it would be nice -"

"Who's Lewis?" Anne cut him off, her hand listlessly waving in the air. "I can't place him."

"Louis," Harry quickly corrected, "Is one of the Tomlinson's from Savannah, remember? Family owns a mill out there." When his mother still looked confused, Harry sighed, "Mama, I went to Atlanta with him."

"Oh! I remember now," Anne nodded, forking another sprout into her mouth.

Robin's mustache twitched above his mouth, "And he wants to go with you to New York instead of goin' to Savannah?" He clasped his hands together, "Why?"

Harry fought of the itch that crawled underneath his skin that his father was catching on to state of their relationship. He cleared his throat and tried to indifferently say, "His sister, Charlotte, lives in New York."

"Makes sense to me," Anne easily said, reaching to grab her water glass.

Robin thoughtfully hummed as he speared a piece of steak. He took a bite and Harry stiffly waited for his father to make a decision. His palms were going clammy and he had to resist wiping sweat off the nape of his neck.

"Bring him 'round to dinner this week," Robin eventually said. He pushed his chair back and stood upright, "If you're goin' all the way up north, I want to know who you're gonna be with."

Harry quickly nodded, "Yeah, um, no problem."

Inside, panic was blossoming along the pit of his stomach at the fact that his parents were going to unknowingly meet the man he was in love with. He excused himself from the table and feebly lied about driving to the local bookstore. Harry wasn't even sure if the shop was open at seven o'clock. Anne didn't question his haste, just reminded him that he had a date scheduled with Faye the following afternoon at the local cinema. Harry nodded and bolted. With his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry drove into town, breaking a few traffic laws along the way, and turned into Dempsey's lot.

The door to his tuck loudly slammed in the frame as he raced towards the opened right garage. When he was inside, he quickly looked around to see Louis' feet extended out from underneath the body of a Blackhawk. Zayn crouched by his side, fingers twirling some kind of metal tool that Harry still didn't know the name of. Thankfully for Harry, it seemed that they were the only two mechanics on duty.

Zayn looked up and when his eyes met Harry's, worry instantly clouded his expression. "Harry?" He stood upright, "You okay, pal? Ya look -"

"What? Harry?" Louis voice surprisingly spat out from under the car, quickly followed by a muffled groan as his upper-body jerked upwards. "Fuckin' shit!" Louis grunted and rolled himself out on a dolly.

There was grease smudged over his face and hands, coveralls in even worse shape. Louis placed a hand over his head and winced at the pressure. His jaw tensed, but then he seemed to remember Harry and quickly turned to look at him with wide eyes.

"Sorry," Harry guiltily winced, twisting his hands together, "I shoulda -"

Zayn cut him off with a flick of his hand, "Don't apologize for Lou bein' an idiot and forgetting he was under a fuckin' car."

"Shut it," Louis gritted at Zayn and climbed off the dolly. He wiped off his hands with a bandana and frowned as he stepped closer to Harry, "What're you doin' here?"