Beth Tries to Write Wholesome Heterosex

Chapter 14: Chapter 14: Latte Heart


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Steve

I woke up to find Maddy already gone. Heading downstairs, I found Maddy’s mom carefully folding the sheets and blankets that had been spread out on the fold-out bed.

“Good morning!” she said. “Matt still not up?”

“No, I think Ma–Matt already left to go to the library, actually,” I said. “I think they wanted to get some art done.”

“He could have taken a day off while we’re here,” she said. “We drove all this way and we don’t get to see him that often. Pretty inconsiderate of him.”

“Well, you saw them last night,” I said. 

“It’s not like he even makes much with art,” she continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “His father and I both told him he should choose any other major, but no. And then he couldn’t get a job. And I try to help him get a job and he never appreciates it.”

“Well, I think your child is happy and feels creatively fulfilled doing art,” I said. “Would it really be better if… he, say, majored in engineering and then hated engineering jobs?”

“At least there would be jobs,” Maddy’s mom said. “But I’m sorry. You probably don’t need to hear all this. So, did you have any plans for breakfast?”

“I was planning to make some omelets,” I said. “Then maybe you and your husband can tour the area a bit, and try a local restaurant for lunch. I have recommendations if you need any.”

“So helpful!” she marveled. “Your parents must be very proud.”

I shrugged. “I’d hope any parents would be proud of their child.”

I used making omelets as a bit of an excuse for not talking to Maddy’s mom. Partway through the first omelet, her dad joined us downstairs.

“Smells great!” he said as he entered the kitchen. “Glad you’re not one of those kids who are terrified of egg yolks. You know, I used to know some guys on the team who drank a raw egg every morning and they turned out just fine. No one used to worry about cholesterol and whatnot.”

“A lot of dietary claims end up being contradicted by later science,” I said. “I’m in favor of eating varied things that taste good and also trying to get enough exercise.”

“A man after my own heart!” he said. “Nothing like eating a big steak after a good workout. Not that my doctor would agree, but I’d rather keep eating red meat and just risk the heart attack.”

I silently hoped that he was on cholesterol-lowering medication. He seemed like a former athlete who got used to eating as much as he wanted, who never changed his diet as his metabolism slowed. Last night, I’d had the inexplicable urge to call him “coach.”

“So where’s the boy?” he asked, turning to where his wife sat.

“Out working on art, apparently,” she said, putting down the political thriller she’d been reading. “You’d think he could make a little time for us, his parents.”

“Always been an artistic one,” Maddy’s dad said. “Used to draw stick figures all over the walls.”

 I laughed. The image of baby Maddy drawing on the walls was cute. “I hope that wasn’t too hard to clean up.”

“We just ended up putting up new wallpaper when he was a little older,” Maddy’s mom interjected. “Giving him finger paints made way more of a mess. He tracked some of it off the newspaper we laid down and got little blue footprints all over the floor.”

I laughed again. “Okay, this omelet is basically done. Which of you wants it?” I asked.

“You can have it, honey,” Maddy’s mom said. Gesturing to her husband, she said, “He’s always hungry.”

“I love a good omelet,” Maddy’s dad said. “Although this one looks like it could use a little more meat and cheese.”

I silently prayed for his cholesterol again. “Good to know for the future, if you’re visiting again.”

Maddy’s mom picked her thriller back up and said “Let me know when mine is done,” then resumed reading.

***

After breakfast, I managed to herd Maddy’s parents out of the house with a loose itinerary for the day. I was glad they’d driven here or the logistics would have been quite a bit more complicated. Then I tried to figure out where Maddy had gone.

Where are you?

A moment later, Maddy responded. She probably had her phone out beside her tablet and picked it up as soon as it vibrated. I told you, I don’t want to see my parents

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They’re gone. Should be out until dinner time or so.

Oh ok. I’m at coffee place our first date was at.

I got in my car and headed over. I found Maddy, a cup of Earl Grey tea forgotten and lukewarm in front of her as she scrutinized a digital drawing. It looked a bit like a humanoid lizard but with feathers and robotic joints. Must be one of her online commissions.

“Hey!” I said. Maddy jerked to attention. When she got into the flow of art she could really tune out her environment.

“I was gonna come back home after I finished this piece,” she said softly.

“Well, I can drive you,” I said. “Also, I like this place’s lattes. I hope the barista does the little heart.”

“That one barista always does the heart for you but not for me,” Maddy said. “I think she’s into you.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling vaguely awkward about hearing that. “Maybe I won’t order a latte today.”

“It’s fine. I think she’s off,” Maddy said. “She only seems to be here about half the time and none of the other baristas do that.”

“You can be really observant,” I said.

“Well, I guess girls flirting with my boyfriend kinda grabs my attention,” she said.

I laughed. “Fair enough. I just hope it didn’t make you feel bad. I can talk to her about it if you want.”

“Absolutely not!” Maddy said. “That sounds horrifyingly awkward. It’s not a big deal or anything, just something I noticed.”

“Alright,” I said. “I think I’m going to go order now.”

“Have fun,” she said before turning her attention back to her art.

I ended up getting a latte.

***

Maddy

I glanced over at Steve as he drove us home. I knew it was my parents bringing out this negativity in me, but I felt like I didn’t deserve him. Someone like that cute barista with winged eyeliner and purple hair would probably be better for him than I was. I felt like I’d been reset to my middle or high school self, feeling vaguely ashamed of myself and my art and staying up late to avoid my parents. God, I hoped no one managed to connect my old DeviantArt back to current me.

Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached over and gently patted my head. I closed my eyes and breathed, enjoying the sensation.

“I’m going to ask your parents to find somewhere else to stay tonight,” he suddenly announced. “I’m willing to pay for a hotel, if they want.”

“You don’t need to do that!” I protested. “They’ll blame it on me, somehow.”

Steve looked unusually sad, or maybe angry. It was a rare expression to see on his face. “I’m just not okay with how they talk to and about you,” he said. “They’re so focused on the hypothetical athletic, successful son that they wanted that they can’t see the talented, kind daughter they actually have. If I spend much more time around them I’m worried I’m going to end up yelling at them.”

I let out a deep sigh. “That’s just what they’re like. You get used to it,” I said.

“You shouldn’t have to get used to that,” Steve said. 

I shrugged. “Well, it’s not like I have much of a choice.”

“You don’t have to keep in contact with them,” Steve said.

“I can’t do that!” I said. “I mean… they’re my parents. I do owe them a lot, obviously. And it’s not like they’re that bad. It’s fine. Besides, maybe they’ll disown me after they hear about my gender.”

“I wish I could do something to help,” Steve said after a brief silence.

I reached over and patted his arm. “You already have.”

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