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"Emma, stop fidgeting."
Ceasing the twisting of the bracelet she was wearing around her wrist, Emma looked nervously at Sean. She couldn't remember a time when she was more nervous.
Sean had left his house keys in the haste to get to Toronto. They had already knocked on the door three times, but so far no one was answering.
"Maybe we should just go." she said. It was hard to keep the relief out of her voice. She knew Sean wanted her to meet his parents. If he didn't, then she wouldn't even have been there.
"I just don't get it. I called my mom earlier. She said they'd be here." Sean's expression was full of disappointment, the hurt evident in his eyes and the low pitch of his voice. His eyes were on the ground, no doubt to disguise the pain he was in. He looked like a lost little boy almost, and Emma felt a surge of protectiveness toward him.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, she moved in closer. "Hey." she whispered, "we can come back another time. It's all right."
"No, it's not." he said. "They were supposed to be here. I just ... I can't believe that I let myself think that they would keep their promise this time. I don't know why I expected …"
"Because you wanted it." she told him, wrapping her arms through the crook of his elbow, her chin propped on his shoulder. "And that's understandable."
"Let's just go. They can just send me my stuff or whatever." He took hold of her hand and began walking down the steps.
A pale blue car of a year and model that Emma couldn't distinguish pulled up in the driveway beside Sean's borrowed car. She felt more than saw Sean tense beside her. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw, a habit he always exhibited when he was nervous or scared.
The driver's side door opened, a blonde woman of around fifty emerging. Even from a distance Emma could tell she had Sean's eyes. His mother.
"Sean." The relief was evident in her voice. "I was afraid I'd missed you."
"You almost did." he said, a little coldly. "Where's Dad?"
"Your Uncle Jeff is sick. I just dropped him off at the train station." Her eyes, Sean's eyes, fell on Emma, still gripping Sean's hand like a life preserver.
Oblivious to his mother's gaze, Sean asked worriedly, "What's wrong with Uncle Jeff?"
"Looks like a heart attack. They don't know yet."
Sean nodded, taking the news in. "Okay. So, can we get in?"
"Sean." Emma said softly.
"Oh right." he replied. "Mom, this is my girlfriend Emma. Em, this is my mom."
Emma smiled warmly at her. Or as warmly as she could given her nerves and the things she'd heard about her from Sean. In return, she got an appraising look from head to toe. She shifted uncomfortably.
"Well, it's nice to meet you. Come on in." She walked right past them up the steps and unlocked the door.
Inside the double wide, Emma wasn't sure what to do. Sean had whispered that he'd be quick and walked down the hall to a room at the far end. His mother was opening the refrigerator, rummaging for something. She emerged, holding a large pitcher of what looked to be pink lemonade. It, and two glasses, were placed on the table beside a plate of cookies.
"Sit." she said. "We should get to know one another."
Reluctantly, Emma sat in the chair across the table from hers. She accepted the drink and let her eyes wander around. It reminded her very much of the apartment Sean and Tracker had shared before they left. Her eyes fell on a framed picture on the wall. A little boy with blonde curls sat in the sand as the surf crashed around him. He was laughing and splashing his hands in sheer delight.
"Is that Sean?" she asked, sipping the lemonade.
His mom turned and looked to see which picture she was looking at. "Yeah it is." she smiled fondly. He was almost three. Back then it took forever to get him out of the water. He loved it."
She looked at Emma as if something had just occurred to her. "Would you like to see some more pictures?"
"I'd love to." she said sincerely.
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Sean packed his stuff as fast as he could. He had no idea what his mother might say to Emma and he wasn't willing to risk laving them alone for too long. At least his dad wasn't there. He would likely have said something off color that would have completely embarrassed Emma.
His duffel bag and backpack stuffed and zipped, he took one final look around the room he had grown up in. It was almost completely empty, but he had never really seen the need to keep a lot of junk lying around anyway. The one thing he had forgotten somehow on his way to Toronto. Stuck in the corner of the wooden framed mirror that had hung above his dresser for as long as he could remember, was the picture Emma's mother had taken of them on their first date. He had kept it in his wallet ever since, even during the numerous breakups. Taking it out would have felt ... wrong somehow. The only time he had ever removed it had been the day he was leaving and he had dropped it in the search for the spare house key he kept in his wallet to leave. He'd put it in the frame so he wouldn't forget it. Which he did anyway in his rush to get to her.
He grabbed it, sticking it in the front pocket of his backpack. A peel of laughter sounded from the other room. Grabbing his bags, he headed in to find Emma and his mom, side by side, looking at an old photo album over lemonade and peanut butter cookies.
"Oh my God, that is so adorable." Emma said, pointing to an image on the page. It was then that Sean realized just which album they had. His baby pictures.
"Mom! Emma doesn't want to see those." he complained.
"Yes, Emma does." She said. His mom smiled, suppressing laugh. "You were so cute." Emma cooed.
Sean felt a blush creeping up his neck. It made no sense at all. After everything he and Emma had been through, and the fact that they had slept together, there was no reason for him to ever be embarrassed of anything around her. His baby pictures in particular.
"Em, we better go if we're going to be back in time for dinner." he said.
"All right." she stood, accompanied by his mom. "Here." she handed a picture to Emma. It was a smaller copy of the one on the wall she had liked so much.
"I can't take this." she insisted.
"Yes, you can. I want you to have it."
"Thank you." Emma said sincerely, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
"Now don't cry. Just take good care of my baby." Sean flinched at her words.
"I promise."
"Em, could you give us a second?" he asked.
"Sure. I'll just wait in the car." He handed her the keys and she said her goodbyes, leaving quietly.
"She's not at all what I expected." his mother told him
"How so?"
"There's no need to get defensive Sean." She picked up the plate and glasses, carrying them back to the sink. He focused on the peeling wallpaper over the counter while he waited for her to answer.
"She's ... tougher ... than you implied." she said finally.
"I told you that she was the strongest person I'd ever met." His tone was accusatory, and she noticed.
"But the things you said, I just thought she'd be a little more reserved. She was so sweet.
A real survivor, that one. No wonder you like her so much."
Sean remained silent.
"Sean?" she prodded. "It's okay to admit that you care about her."
"I love her." he admitted, unnerved at the magnitude of the confession he was making.
"Have you told her?"
He nodded.
"Good. Something like that needs to be shared." She hugged him. "Don't you break her heart again. You hear me?"
"Yeah."
"I love you Sean."
"Love you, too."
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Calm silence filled the car on the drive back. As soon as Sean had gotten in the car, he'd kissed her and thanked her for coming with him. But he hadn't said a word since.
"Sean?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?" she asked, leaning over to run her fingers through his hair.
"Just thinking." he answered.
"What about?"
"How differently things could have gone today. It went a lot better than we expected."
Her brow creased in confusion. "We?"
"Admit it; you were expecting a disaster, right?"
"Guilty. I'm sorry; it's just with everything you've told me …"
"I get it. And I'm sorry for that." He held his arm out toward her, an invitation for her to snuggle against him. She scooted over, tucking her feet up underneath her, head against his chest.
The exit for Toronto was coming up and Emma was struck by an odd idea. Sean had just done something really hard by letting her meet his mom. Had his father been there as well it would have been that much more important, and difficult, to him. And even though she had told him all of her dark secrets, she still felt like there was something missing that would really make their relationship completely honest.
"Sean, take Exit 37." she told him.
"Why?" he asked, slanting a questioning glance down at her from the corner of his eye.
"We have another stop to make."
"Are you going to tell me where?" he asked.
"Stouffville." she said simply. "I want you to meet my dad."
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