When Iris found herself following John up the street towards his house, she questioned why she had said yes.
She most definitely wanted to do it, but a nervous, heavy feeling descended through her core. She was scared. For good reason, since eating with someone else's family was unknown to her even before the Foundation had taken her.
Iris didn't want to call herself shy. That wasn't the right description. She was more scared of interacting with others on any occasion, save her family. She got by, but again, this was her first time in what amounted to years doing something like this.
"...please don't mess up, Iris.", she muttered to herself quietly, her eyes watching the back of John's feet step forward in front of her.
"What was that, Iris?", John glanced back, helmet slightly drifting as he adjusted it.
"Nothing, I was just being dumb. Don't worry about me.", Iris responded, shaking her head with a pained smile.
Slightly tilting his head, John shrugged, "If you say so. We're almost there, don't worry. My mom is good at making people feel better!".
Iris continued her sad smile and nodded, as John saluted crookedly in return at her, and continued leading her towards his home.
What a goofy kid.
…
John bounded up the small steps to his home, going to stand stiffly on the homely doormat, as he waved Iris over, standing on the sidewalk.
"C'mon, we don't have all day here! I'm a very busy young man!", he smirked.
Iris took a deep breath, gathering her strength and willpower, and marched herself toward the wooden front door.
The porch and front door was well kept, like it was recently swept and dusted, even if the structure itself showed a little bit of age. Though most houses in this age were looking like it was still the '40s. Goes to show how bad the war affected America. But other than that, it did seem well maintained.
John rapped on the wooden door, shouting, "Mooooooooom! I'm home from my stroll! I brought home a new friend!" as he jumped to try and peek through the small glass window at the top.
A female voice called out, "Tell Jasmine she can come in as usual, she doesn't need to use the window!"
"No, mom, it's someone new! I met her a week ago!", he called out in return, turning to glance at Iris, she herself nervously standing next to John, arms folded in front of her chest.
Immediately after he stated that, they heard the quick step of a woman come to the front door and swiftly unlock and swing open the door, revealing who Iris guessed was John's mother.
A humble looking woman, she sported a decent length of brown hair and blue eyes, and a simple set of clothes with a slightly stained apron over it. Her hair was tied neatly behind her back, and though she wasn't exactly young, she wasn't old, and still carried an air of prettiness and warmness that made Iris feel just a little calmer. Less anxious.
"Hi, mom!", John greeted with a large smile, "This is my new friend, Iris!"
"...Hello, Mrs. Tibbets.", she waved, trying to look her in the eyes from her small height.
"...oh…you're…not Jaz.", she muttered to herself, tilting her head slightly at Iris, putting her hands on her hips, eyes boring into her soul. It made Iris feel fidgety, and very much like she was being judged.
After a few more seconds of examination from his mother, she finally nodded and moved aside, stating, "Well, come in, Iris. I'm nearly done with dinner, you can spend time with John until then.", welcoming the two children in with a small smile.
"Thanks, Mom!", John exclaimed, giving her a quick hug before stepping inside, waving his new guest in, "C'mon, Iris! I wanna show you around!"
She nervously stepped inside as his mother gave her a small pat on the back and returned to the kitchen, brushing her hair aside.
The house itself was relatively comfy and nice. The Tibbets didn't look rich, but they certainly weren't destitute, with nice looking carpet and walls giving off an aura of homeliness and a friendly vibe. Many photos lined the wall, some recent, others very old. The very latest being a framed school photo of a young John and who must be his sister, and the oldest being a very familiar, well built man in a black and white photo, wearing the blue of the Union Army, writing on the bottom stating, "Jerimiah Tibbets Jr., 1861."
Moving forwards, the slow mumbling of a television filled her ears, along with the quiet notes of older music, nothing from today. Sitting on the couch in front of the TV was an elderly man, seemingly close to falling asleep with one of those World War 1 wide brimmed hats on his wrinkled head. He seemed quite healthy for his age.
Sitting next to him was what he assumed to be John's grandmother and the old man's wife, an elderly but still relatively good looking, active woman, intently watching the TV before her while holding a blanket in her hands, her eyes shifting quickly to meet Iris'.
She gave out a small yelp as she stalked away after John towards his room, catching up with him and walking alongside him, John asking her, "What's wrong? I heard a noise."
After a moment of deliberation, she said, "...your grandma's a little scary.", rubbing her shoulder with a tinge of embarrassment.
He giggled a bit, patting her shoulder softly, retorting, "It's okay, she scares me, too! C'mon, we're almost there!"
Pushing open the door to his bedroom, John stepped in and threw himself onto his bed, letting Iris take in the sight for herself.
His room was decently sized, enough for a boy, at least that's what Iris assumed. Decorated with war posters, photos, and little knick-knacks, a bookshelf, and a couple action figures, it seemed in-line with how he presented himself to her. A large portrait of a younger Douglas MacArthur sat on his shelf, with another photo of what appeared to be his mother and father's wedding photo next to it. The books themselves seemed to be philosophy. Roman, Greek, and the Art of War.
…could he even understand that stuff?
Iris knew John was a weird kid.
Just…his heart seemed to be in the right place, but he wasn't like, a typical '50s kid, as she was expecting.
Very…patriotic? Was that a good description? That, and he was really friendly, for some reason. Hates the Axis, but really friendly to her.
"...it's…a nice room.", Iris slowly told him, cautious on how she worded her speech.
"...You don't think it's…I dunno, strange?", he asked, for the first time seeming slightly embarrassed.
"...Well…not really. It's about what I expected, heh.", Iris smiled, slightly amused.
"...thanks. I'm proud of my room and I'm glad someone other than Jaz appreciates it.", he proclaimed to her.
Both their attention was drawn away from the room, as a thump came from below the window, the two turning to see a spectacled girl with glasses land flat on the floor, with a small grunt.
"Jaz, my mom said you can use the front door.", John told her, going over to help the girl up, as she adjusted her glasses.
"I don't wanna use it after your grandma answered my knock, she's scary.", she protested,
"Grandma Annika is really nice, though!"
"Scary.", Jaz huffed, before John just sighed and turned back to Iris.
"Well, this is Jaz, you saw her not too long ago."
Jaz tilted her head, looking Iris over as she approached her. Her face had an intelligent look, and Iris felt slightly intimidated. The look on her face, it looked…uneasy.
"...John, this is the girl from the park, yes?", Jaz slowly asked, eyes shifting to the boy.
"Yeah! This is Iris.", he grinned.
Jaz hummed, before finally saying, "...Well, hello Iris. I'm Jasmine, but Big Mac calls me Jaz. Everybody does!"
Iris, who had been paralyzed by anxiety, nervously waved, "...t-thanks."
Jaz stretched her arms, yawning, and smiles, "So, Big Mac, what are you doing other than giving Iris the grand tour?"
"Mom is making dinner, you can stay to eat. She's been trying to get you to not run away every time the food is ready.", he told her.
"I don't run away! I'm making an…er, tactical retreat like you say!", Jaz protested.
John laughed and pinched her cheek, at which Jaz slightly pouted, brushing her hair our of her eyes.
Iris smiled a little bit, feeling a bit more at ease thanks to the friendly atmosphere. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad.
…
Later on, John's mother managed to get Jaz to stay for dinner, along with Iris. The meal itself was delicious, her cooking spoke for itself.
Though what was very interesting to Iris was viewing the entire Tibbets household.
Grandma Annika and Grandpa Jameson sat together, both in their early sixties or so and seemingly sharp despite their age. Jameson was a World War 1 veteran, and Annika was Russian, a supposed "White Exile". Iris didn't quite know what that meant, but she was a little scared to keep talking to John's grandmother.
John's parents were another fascinating couple for Iris to observe. She couldn't quite figure out what his father, Lyle, did for a job. He was a hard looking man, and John had whispered to her that his dad was a combat pilot in the war, but didn't mention much else. John and Lyle both shared quite a few facial features, which certainly made sense. He mostly spent the meal not saying much, simply observing everyone and giving Iris and Jaz short greetings.
Sophia, John's mother, on the other hand…
She was a lively woman, and was incredibly kind to both her and Jaz, feeding them all they wanted and keeping the aura of the meal warm and friendly, her matronly nature there for all to see. Sophia Tibbets was, quite frankly, a sweetheart. And Iris really liked her.
After the meal ended, John asked permission from his parents to walk the both of them home. After walking Jaz, it was just John and Iris walking together at sunset.
"Did ya have fun?", he asked, curious.
"...Yeah, I did. Your mom was really nice.", she admitted.
"That's my mom, alright. She seemed to really like you, I'm happy.", he smiled, as he walked alongside Iris.
Iris smiled back, and felt a little better about the whole evening. For once, she felt…happy. Happy that she had made friends and had a nice meal.
That night, laying in her bed, Iris smiled a bit. Having a little hope for the future. She lay and cuddled her pillow, and closed her eyes.
"...Thanks, John.", she mumbled.
AN: Shorter chapter than I would have liked, but I was feeling sick this past week or so. Felt like shit so had to cut some writing short. Thanks for being patient. This was supposed to be longer, but think of this as a next step before the meat of the story.