Chapter 12: Pot Roast

Steve

“Hi, Mom!” Maddy said, reaching out for a hug, which her mom quickly reciprocated. Nice, a family of huggers! I was a bit of a hugger myself.

“Hi! It’s really nice to see you, honey,” her mom said. She was a middle-aged woman with a comforting aura. I could definitely see a family resemblance around the nose and eyes. “Is this your new housemate?”

“Yeah, this is Steve,” Maddy said.

“It’s great to meet you!” I said. “If you’re anything like your dau— son, I sure you’re great people.”

“Aw! What a nice thing to say,” Maddy’s mom said. She turned to Maddy. “I like him,” she said loudly but with the air of conferring a secret.

A moment later, a middle-aged man wearing an oversized windbreaker followed her through the door. “I think I got everything!” he announced before setting a precarious stack of an icebox, various cardboard boxes, and even a bottle of wine carefully down on the ground.

“Oh, I would have helped if you had waited a moment,” Maddy’s mom said. “Or you could have taken two trips, honey. I’m surprised you didn’t drop anything.”

“I had it covered!” Maddy’s dad insisted. “Oh, hey, young man,” he said as he saw me. “Tom,” he announced as he extended his hand for a handshake.

I returned his handshake. If I knew anything about this kind of man, it was that he wanted a firm one, so I really made sure to squeeze.

“Great stuff!” he announced. “I’m afraid I’ve failed teaching this one how to make it really manly,” he said, slapping Maddy on the back. She stumbled forward. “Whoa, champ, plant your legs wider apart. Makes your base more stable!”

Maddy spread her legs wider, but a moment later she started talking and quickly returned to her former stance. “Sorry, dad.” She turned to me. “I was never quite the athlete he wanted.”

“I just wanted you to try your best!” her dad said. “I could feel when your heart wasn’t in the game! Boy especially hated football. Hey, you’re tall. You ever play basketball?”

I laughed, feeling a bit awkward. “No, sir, can’t say I have much. I might be tall but I’m not the most coordinated.”

“Sir!” her dad boomed. “That’s nice to hear. So many young people around these days don’t know how to show a man respect, you know? Give ‘im a firm handshake, look ‘im in the eyes and call him sir. Matt could learn a lot from you!”

I could tell some of these comments were getting to Maddy, with her parents comparing her to me and finding her lacking. Maybe this is where a lot of her self-esteem issues came from. I decided to tactfully change the subject.

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“You two hungry? I have a pot roast ready in the kitchen.” I’d asked Maddy a few questions about her parents’ food preferences to try and prepare a good fit.

“Sounds great!” her dad said.

“I suppose we could eat, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience for you. I know we’re visiting without much advance notice,” said her mom.

“Not at all!” I reassured her. “I enjoy cooking. I actually love to have guests over as an excuse to do something bigger or more elaborate.”

“Damn, this man would make someone a great husband,” Maddy’s dad said. “Too bad I don’t have a daughter on the market.”

Maddy coughed.

“Are you okay, honey? Do you have a cold? I brought tea if you want any. Peppermint, your favorite,” her mom offered.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Maddy muttered. “Let me help you unpack.”

“Oh, this red should go with the roast nicely!” I said as I plucked the wine they had brought from the pile. “Oh, assuming it’s for us, of course.”

“It’s a housewarming gift!” Maddy’s mom said. “And yes, that sounds lovely. Thank you, Steven.”

“Where’s the head?” Maddy’s dad asked, poking his head around a corner and down the hallway.

“First door on the left,” I informed him.

“Thanks, champ,” he said, giving me a hearty slap on the back while on the way.

As soon as her mom had headed off to use the upstairs bathroom, I turned to Maddy. “Are you okay?”

“I just forget how hard it can be just to… exist around them. I’m just really not the son they want, clearly. They’d obviously rather have you.”

“Maddy, no!” I said. “I’m not going to lie, it… did seem like they were putting a lot of pressure on you. But that’s their problem, not yours! And I’m sorry they’re comparing us. I wish they wouldn’t do that but, again, their problem.”

“I guess,” she muttered. “Still. I’m glad they’re only visiting for two days.”

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