Chapter 22: Tension

A week or so after our arrival back to Washington, I went over to Emily's place. I wanted to catch up with her about everything that was going on and just spend some time with her. It was comforting, sitting at her kitchen table with her, sipping from a huge mug of tea. There was just something about Emily's place that was serene.

"Em, can I ask you something?" I asked. She nodded and I took a deep breath. "This has been bothering me for a little while, but have you ever met Paul's parents?"

She hesitated. "I've met his dad once when he was visiting, never his mom though. As far as I know, she lives by herself and drinks."

"Yeah, Paul's mentioned that she has a drinking problem," I said, chewing on my lip. "What's his dad like?"

She shrugged. "He seemed nice. I didn't really see him for very long, though. Why are you asking?"

"I think I want to meet them," I said. "I mean, they deserve to know that they're going to be grandparents, don't they?"

"They do," she agreed. "But Mel, Paul really doesn't have a good relationship with either of them. He might not want them to know.

"Yeah, I know," I said. "But it just doesn't feel right, you know?"

"I know and I agree," she said, squeezing my hand. "But this is Paul's call, don't try to force him into it if he isn't comfortable with it."

I nodded. "I'll see what happens when I bring it up to him." I paused for a few moments. "I have another question—do you know what Jared's told Kim about…everything? I just don't want to say the wrong thing in front of her."

She hesitated. "I think she knows that the two of you used to date. I don't think he's even told her what imprinting is and I'm pretty sure he doesn't plan on it."

"Yeah, I can't say that I blame him for that," I said. "I don't think I'd be too pleased to hear that my boyfriend had a spiritual connection to someone else."

"Yeah, something like that can't be easy for him to talk about," she said.

"Is he happy?"

She smiled warmly at me. "He is, Mel. I haven't seen him like this in a long time."

"I'm glad," I said. "For the longest time I thought that he'd never be able to find happiness and that was because of me."

"Don't put that on yourself, Mel," she said gently. "You can't blame yourself for your feelings and he knew that."

"I know, but it's just a relief that he's in a better place now," I said.

We chatted for a little while longer before I went back home. I sat at the kitchen table after I'd had something to eat, anxiously waiting for Paul to return from work. I wasn't sure how he'd take the conversation that I wanted to have with him and I found myself bracing myself for his arrival.

I wasn't sure why I was so anxious—it was just a suggestion that I was planning on making and if it didn't go well, I would drop it.

He arrived home and grabbed himself something to eat while I sat at the table and fidgeted with my hands. He raised an eyebrow at my fidgeting but didn't ask me about it until he'd sat down across from me with his dinner.

"So…what's wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

A laugh escaped him. "You're not good at that, you know."

"Well…I have an idea," I began. "And I don't know how much you'll like it."

"What is it?"

"I've been thinking that…I want to meet your parents."

He was quiet for a few moments. "Why?"

"Well, we've been together for a long time and I've never met them," I explained. "And I think they deserve to know that they're going to be grandparents."

"Mel, I barely consider them my parents at this point," he said. "The fact that Sue knows is basically like my mom knowing. She's more of a mother to my than my actual mom is."

"It's just that they're a part of you, so they're part of the baby," I said.

"They're the worst part of me," he said quietly. "I don't want you to be part of that."

"I completely understand if you're not comfortable with it—I don't want to force you into anything."

"I'll think about it, alright?"

"That's all I'm asking for," I said, approaching him and pressing a soft kiss against his cheek. I left him alone in the kitchen to finish eating and went to the bedroom to lay down for a bit. Not long after, Paul slid into bed next to me and was quiet for a little bit. I could tell he wanted to say something but I didn't want to say anything until he did—after our conversation earlier I knew that it would be up to him to start talking and not me.

"I have one condition to letting you meet them," he said finally.

"Alright," I said, sitting up a bit straighter in bed.

"I don't want them involved with the baby," he said.

"So…that's a yes, then?" I asked.

"I'm still not totally sure that it's a good idea," he said. "But I can see how important it is to you."

"If you're not comfortable with it…"

"I don't know when it'll happen," he warned lightly. "But at some point…I think it'll be okay if you meet them."

"Thank you," I murmured, pressing my lips against his.

"Just…don't set your expectations too high, alright?"

"Paul—"

"I'm serious, Mel," he said. "They're not worth getting worked up over, trust me."

"Okay," I obliged, knowing that it wouldn't be worth it to argue. "I'm not going to rush you—whenever you want it to happen is when it will, okay?"

"I appreciate that."

It took about two weeks for Paul to mention his mother to me. One morning, when he had the day off work, he suggested that we go and see her. It took me by surprise because I'd assumed that he'd changed his mind about letting me meet her and because my baby bump had started showing much more clearly—I'd assumed that he didn't even want her to know that I was pregnant.

But, nonetheless, after he suggested it to me, I got ready and we went down to his car so he could drive us there. We were both quiet on the ride and I couldn't help but fidget nervously.

Paul noticed and said, "Don't be nervous."

"Kinda hard not to be," I said.

"There's no reason to be," he said gently.

I was tempted to say something to that, but I didn't bother. I knew that this was an extremely touchy subject for him and I didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

He pulled into the driveway of a small house with an overgrown lawn and a small porch with paint peeling off the wood. He exited his car and I followed suit, following him to the front door. I expected him to knock, but instead he fiddled with the keys on his keychain before finding the right one.

"You have a key?" I asked.

"Yeah, in case of emergencies," he muttered. "Someone needs to let the paramedics in." I was quiet as he opened the for us and grasped my hand.

"Paul? Is that you?" demanded a woman's voice from inside.

"Yeah, Mom, it's me," Paul called, keeping his hand tight on mine.

"What do you want?" she demanded. "I'm fine!"

"I want you to meet someone," he said tightly. He pulled me into the living room and I saw a woman sitting in a large armchair, clutching a glass with amber coloured liquid in it. She had pitch black hair, copper coloured skin, and dark brown eyes that matched Paul's.

She turned her eyes on me and scrutinized me. "Who's this?"

"This is Melanie," Paul said.

"Hi," I said hesitantly.

She met my eyes for a few moments before her gaze slowly moved towards my abdomen. I fought the urge to cover my stomach with my hands, trying not to feel self conscious.

She turned her attention back to Paul. "You knocked her up?"

"Yes," he said stiffly.

"You sure it's yours?"

I felt Paul stiffen beside me. In a voice that I knew meant he was trying to control his temper, he said, "Yeah, it's mine."

"Am I going to be allowed to meet my grandchild?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

"No," Paul said immediately.

"Then what was the point in bringing her here?" she demanded.

"Come on, Mel, let's go," he said, trying to pull me away. "I told you that this wasn't a good idea."

His mother laughed bitterly and said, "Look at you, walking out on me, just like your father did."

I felt Paul flinch next to me and he angrily said, "You know what, Mom? Maybe if you got sober, I would have considered letting you meet your grandchild. Now, there's no chance."

"Paul!" I hissed. His mother didn't say another word. She rose from her chair and went into another room in the house, slamming the door behind her. "You should apologize to her."

"No, she needed to hear it," he said. "Let's get out of here."

I wanted to try and convince him to go and speak to her to try and smooth things over a bit, but he was already leading me out of the house so I had no choice but to follow him. It was a very quiet ride home and he was gripping the steeling wheel tightly as he drove. I felt awful about what had happened—if I hadn't brought his parents up to him this never would've happened.

As he parked in his spot at the apartment building, I decided that I wouldn't bring his dad up to him unless absolutely necessary. I knew that his relationship with his dad was slightly better than it was with his mom, but it still wasn't great. Considering how things had gone at his mother's house, I didn't want to force him into another situation like that.

He made a move to exit his car, but I put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Are you angry with me?"

He hesitated. "No. Not with you. That went pretty much exactly how I assumed it would—I just hope it lived up to your expectations."

With that, he shook my hand off of his arm and went upstairs to the apartment.