Saturday arrived too quickly. As predicted, Debbie had jumped at the chance to meet Holden's parents - and to see Mary again, which Holden could not comprehend. Were they acquainted with the same Mary?
In order to get to his parents' house on time, he and Debbie had to leave around noon to ensure arrival in New York at 5:00. They stopped for a quick lunch and then hit the road.
Holden's parents had offered Holden the chance to stay the night in his childhood bedroom - with Debbie being offered the guest room. Holden couldn't help but laugh - of course they wouldn't have wanted them to stay in the same room, blissfully unaware that Holden and Debbie had "slept together" in ways more than one many times before. Ultimately, they had opted to spend the night at a hotel.
Holden was especially relieved at this decision when he learned that Mary would be spending the night at their parents' house. Hopefully, he and Debbie would be able to make it out before Mary roped them into playing cards, her favorite pastime besides getting on Holden's last nerve.
"When was the last time you saw your parents?" Debbie asked, as Holden drove.
"Christmas, I think," he replied absentmindedly.
"They had both Mary and me over - and it was hell."
Debbie rolled her eyes. "You're so dramatic."
"I don't understand how you can be so excited about this - about meeting my parents - when you've already met my sister, knowing full well what she's like, and now you want to meet the people who raised her.
Debbie shook her head. "I'm literally dating their other child.".
"That's different. I practically raised myself," Holden replied matter-of-factly.
"Oh okay," Debbie chuckled. "And anyway - Mary seems so sweet."
Holden sighed. "That was your first impression of her that day at the restaurant?"
Debbie shrugged. "She seemed like a normal kid sister to me."
"It's easy for you to say that since she's not your kid sister," Holden retorted quickly.
"I always wanted a younger sister," Debbie said. "All I got was an older sister who was always telling me what to do, and a younger brother who put a frog in my hair - on multiple occasions."
"You can have mine," Holden said, pulling into his parents' driveway.
As soon as the car had stopped, Debbie instantly stepped out, but Holden lingered.
"Aren't your legs sore? We only stopped once for a bathroom break and that was three hours ago," Debbie inquired.
Holden shrugged. "I'd rather delay this as long as possible."
Debbie went over to his side of the car and opened the door. "Come on, Holden. I'm hungry."
Holden sighed. He was hungry too - and he did have to go to the bathroom again. Begrudgingly, he got out of the car and closed the door behind him.
Holden was about to ring the doorbell when the door opened. It was Mom - she must've been watching through the window.
"Holden!" She greeted her son enthusiastically with a hug that nearly knocked him over.
"Hi…hi Mom," Holden said uncomfortably. Hugs were out of character for Margaret Ford.
"Is this Debbie?" Margaret asked turning to Debbie and smiling
"Yes. Mom, this is Debbie Mitford. Debbie, this is my mother, Margaret Ford." Debbie and Margaret shook hands.
"Come on in, you two," Margaret stepped out of the way so Holden and Debbie could enter the house. Dad was sitting on the couch.
"Holden, hello!" Thomas stood up and shook his son's hand. He turned to Debbie and smiled.
"Dad, this is my girlfriend, Debbie Mitford. Debbie, this is my father, Thomas Ford," Holden said. Debbie and Thomas exchanged pleasantries and he invited her and Holden to sit. Holden joined Debbie on the couch after stopping at the bathroom.
"Mary Margaret! Your brother is here!" Margaret called in a sing-songy voice. She loved to remind everybody that Mary was named after her. Thomas had been partial to naming her Mary Jane, but Margaret didn't think it would be fair that the couple's only son was named Holden Thomas for his father but their only daughter not named for her. Thomas relented and Mary Margaret Ford it was.
Mary soon entered, presumably from her childhood bedroom. Holden braced for impact.
"Holdy!" She exclaimed, rushing over and greeting her brother with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Holden winced slightly, but tried to force a smile.
"Hi, Mary," he mumbled.
"Hi Debbie," Mary turned to Debbie who smiled back.
"Hello, Mary," Debbie replied. The two briefly hugged and all three of them sat down.
"Where's Scott?" Holden suddenly asked Mary.
"Scotty has the mumps," Mary frowned. "So he couldn't make it - but he says hello to everybody and he hopes he can meet Debbie soon."
"Oh, no," Debbie replied sympathetically. "I had the mumps back in junior high - it's awful."
"It is," Holden agreed, recalling having it himself around that same time.
Mary's face suddenly brightened. "I remember your giant chipmunk cheeks," she smirked.
Holden's eyes narrowed. "You had it at the same time I did!"
"Yeah, but your cheeks were bigger," Mary retorted.
Holden turned to Debbie who was trying not to laugh. Mary was starting this shit already - great. Holden was actually disappointed that Scott couldn't make it. He was a great distraction for Mary and overall seemed like a genuinely nice guy. As much as Holden couldn't stand Mary, she deserved a boyfriend who wasn't a dick. Not to mention, if Mary had wanted to play cards later, Scott would've accepted immediately, sparing Holden and Debbie.
"You'll have to bring him some leftovers, dear," Margaret came in and put a hand on Mary's shoulder.
"Of course, Mother," Mary looked up at Margaret and smiled.
Holden rolled his eyes. Mary calling Margaret "Mother" was a relatively new development. Where it came from, he wasn't certain but he wished it would go back. Thomas wasn't "Father," though. He was "Daddy."
"It smells good, Mom," Holden said, trying to break the silence.
"Thank you, Holden," Margaret smiled. "It should be almost done. Debbie, I hope you like pot roast, mashed potatoes, and peas."
"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mrs. Ford," Debbie smiled.
"I mashed the potatoes," Mary said proudly, like a toddler who had gotten dressed independently for the first time.
"Yes, you did," Margaret smiled, cupping her daughter's chin in her hands. "Holden," Margaret turned to her son.
"Yes?" Holden asked. He had been mid-eye roll at Mary sucking up to their mother, but quickly stopped when he realized Margaret was looking at him.
"Would you set the table please?" Margaret asked, putting a hand on Holden's shoulder which instantly made him flinch. While growing up, it was rare that either of his parents ever touched him affectionately. Generally, if either of them had made physical contact with their children while they were growing up, it was either with Thomas' belt or Margaret's wooden spoon.
Margaret continued to stand by the decisions she and Thomas had made regarding discipline, "Mary and Holden always knew if they did something wrong there would be consequences. I'm so grateful Thomas and I raised them in a God-fearing home," Holden had once overheard his mother tell her friend.
However, Holden could also tell she regretted not hugging them more and was attempting to make up for it in their adulthood. Mary was somewhat used to being doted on, being the "miracle" Ford baby but even she had experienced rejection and excuses after attempting to sit on her parents' laps growing up. As an adult, she relished in her mother's praise - she'd been starving for it for 19 years and whether or not she knew it came out of Margaret's guilt more than anything else, Holden wasn't sure.
Meanwhile, he knew this and didn't react with the same, "oh, thank you Mother!" The way Mary did. So Margaret would direct her praise of Holden at others. "Thomas, isn't our son the best FBI agent this country has ever seen?" "Mary, did you ever think about how your brother has accomplished so much and he's not even thirty years old yet?"
"Yes, I'll set the table," Holden said quickly, wanting to get away from his mother and sister. "Debbie, will you help me?"
"Sure," Debbie followed Holden into the kitchen.
"Are you okay?" Debbie asked, as Holden was taking plates out of the cupboard.
"Not really," Holden said. He handed Debbie five plates and went to get the glasses out of the cupboard. "The only time she ever really put a hand on us growing up was for 'loving correction' as she called it," Holden said, putting the glasses next to the plates Debbie had laid out. "I know she feels bad about not ever really hugging me, so she's trying to make up for it now, but I'm not buying into that bullshit."
"I'm sorry," Debbie said. She didn't know how else to respond.
"It's not your fault," Holden said, putting forks, spoons, and knives in their respective places at the table. "Will you go into that drawer over there and get the napkins?"
Debbie nodded and went over to the drawer. She took the napkins out and put them where they belonged.
Mary entered shortly thereafter. She put on oven mitts and removed the pot roast from the oven, setting it on the counter.
"Is it done?" Margaret called from the living room.
"Yes ma'am!" Mary replied, testing it with a fork.
"Great!" Margaret entered. "Why don't you kids wash your hands and then we'll sit down?"
Holden frowned at his mother referring to him and Debbie as "kids" but silently washed his hands and Debbie and Mary followed suit.
Soon, all five of them were seated at the table.