"You didn't shave," Julia said.
Scott turned his eyes from the window to see her turning her attention back to the road. She had attempted several times to start idle chatter. Scott had never been skilled at banter, but he too welcomed any break in the uncomfortable silence. Being back in the car had definitely reawakened the previous day's activities for him and, judging by the way Julia kept shifting in her seat, he imagined she was similarly affected.
"I need a new razor," he replied after a slight pause.
Julia turned and looked at him again. "I have some disposable ones. You can have one of those."
"Thank you," he said. "That sounds great."
There was another moment of silence. The hum of the road filled the car, accented by the occasional seam or crack in the highway.
"I'm sorry I didn't shave," Scott spoke up. "I didn't think it would matter."
"It doesn't," Julia replied. "I was just surprised. You always shaved." He saw in his peripheral vision that her eyes darted his way again. "You look kind of cute with a little stubble."
It was Scott's turn to shift in his seat. He fought the urge to turn his face away from hers and stare out the window. Instead, he forced himself to stare forwards, watching the dotted lines on the road zoom past. The temperature in the cabin of the car seemed to rise sharply. He knew he was blushing, and it wasn't exactly a common occurrence for him. Her comments served only to remind him that this woman imagined a long and apparently intimate history with a man who looked just like him. A history that he had absolutely no knowledge of. He was dealing with strong emotions, and he didn't know what to do about it. Obviously, they were feelings that he couldn't reciprocate. Suddenly, he wished he hadn't given her the money so soon. Anger, resentment, and arguments, he could handle. Affection? Especially coming from a stranger? Just the thought made Scott squirm again.
"I'm sorry," Julia said. He shot her a sideways glance. Her cheeks were reddened with embarrassment, too.
"No," Scott said. "Don't be. It's fine." He tried to sound comforting, but even he could tell he sounded like someone trying to be polite after somebody just vomited on their shoes. "I appreciate the, uhh, I mean, thanks for thinking I'm..." Scott chastised himself. Turning and looking at her squarely, he spoke clearly and definitively. "Thank you."
Julia tried to stifle a grin. Scott looked away.
"So," Scott said, quickly searching his mind for a subject change. "You said Rachel was at her grandparents." His brow furled as his mind struggled to wrap itself around the next part of his question. "Did you mean your parents or mine?"
His parents? They wouldn't really be his, but they would think they were. What would that be like? Can I deal with this? Of course you can. Scott took a deep breath, trying his best not to get himself worked up over nothing. What will she look like?
"My parents," Julia answered.
And just like that, his worries were for nothing. "I see."
There must have been something in his voice, or maybe it was the question itself, but Scott saw in his peripheral vision that Julia was looking at him, a concerned look on her face.
"Scott," she said, her voice solemn. "You're, uhh, your parents are dead."
He looked at her and she looked at him. Sadness welled in her eyes and rolled over Scott in waves, but he felt nothing but coldness inside.
"You're an orphan," she said.
Scott nodded and looked through the windshield. "Yeah," he said. "Okay."
The rest of the trip was spent in silence. Julia hadn't misspoken. The trip was a long one, made longer by the revelations he was still coming to terms with. It was becoming more and more apparent that, though he needed to stay and continue with his reparations, that he would one day be forced to divorce himself from Julia and this situation. Somehow, he had to find a way back to the life he knew. This was all just too… It was all too much.
"Here we are," Julia said as they pulled off of the paved road. The car lurched and then shook as gravel crackled beneath the tires. Scott leaned forward to see a large white house sitting atop the hill at the end of the long, curved driveway. His forehead creased with thought. The house was by no means a mansion, but it clearly represented a higher standard of living than the apartment complex Julia was currently living in.
What kind of a family is this? Scott thought to himself.
The car lazily climbed the hill, stopping at the two-car garage doors next to an aging mini-van. The pair climbed out, and Scott's attention was further piqued as he followed Julia up the ramp to the front door. Motion caught his eye, and he turned to see a curtain fall back into place. Elements were beginning to fall into place. He turned back to Julia with eyebrow raised.
"What's going on here?" he said.
"What?" she said, acting shocked. "What do you mean?" She leaned forward and rang the doorbell twice.
Scott looked away, trying to hide his irritation. I hate surprises, he thought. The porch was covered and was decorated simply but expensively. Still, everything was dusty and spider webs glinted in the sunlight underneath the chairs.
The front door opened abruptly, and Scott snapped to attention. The woman standing inside the house looked remarkably like the pictures of Julia he had seen when she was larger. Her mother was larger still. Her cheeks were round and her face lined with smile lines and those caused by frowning, too. Her hair was a light brown, clearly a dye job. She wore plenty of makeup, but not enough to cover the fact that her face was terribly pale. Despite the enormous smile on her face, it was immediately clear that this was not a woman that felt well.
"Scott Summers," Julia's mother said. "It's a miracle and a blessing to see you up and walking again."
"Thank you, Mrs…" Scott said for the first time that he had no clue what Julia's maiden name was.
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Mary?" she said, grabbing Scott and pulling him into a bear hug, which Scott reluctantly relented to. "I never stopped praying for you, child," she said into his ear.
She released him and Scott stepped back, smiling uncomfortably. Mary smiled and shook her head. "Ain't it a miracle." She waved them in with thick arms. "C'mon in! We'll get little Rachel packed up."
Scott stepped in apprehensively, still shaken from his greeting. He rubbed his bicep unconsciously, ran his fingers through his hair, and scratched his chin.
"Make yourself comfortable, Scotty," Mary said. "Me and Julie will go get Rachel."
"Just have a seat on the couch," Julia said, and she pointed over Scott's shoulder.
He nodded. He didn't even try to hide the snarl that was twitching at the edge of his mouth. He toyed with the idea of telling them to forget the surprise, spare themselves the trouble. Watching Julia practically skip down the hall, though, Scott couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he sighed heavily and turned into the living room. The entire room was decorated in light colors, with two white couches as the focal point both of which were literally teeming with pillows.
He circled one of them, looking at the massive pile and wondering how Mary, who was clearly larger than himself, ever managed to sit on the couch comfortably. There was barely any cushion showing at all. He buried his hands into his pockets and watched the hallway, waiting for the procession to erupt. He waited and waited, shifting his weight back and forth. He walked slowly around the room, examining pictures of unfamiliar faces. Julia and Rachel appeared in a few of them at various ages. He moved back to the couch. His mouth opened to ask if everything was okay, but he shut it again. He was a guest. He could be patient.
His eyes examined the couch again. Finally, he turned and dropped his rear onto the spot it looked like he might have the most chance of fitting in and he was nearly launched onto the floor. Digging his feet into the carpet, he pushed himself backwards, but he was still laying practically flat on the mountain of pillows, his pelvis lifted uncomfortably skyward.
The more he struggled, the more he seemed to get buried in lace and stuffing. Finally, he stood up and, digging his arm deep into the pillows, he started shoveling out a place to sit, tossing white pillows onto the floor behind him. He froze, mid-scoop, when a number of voices shouted suddenly from the hallway.
"SURPRISE!"
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Author's Note: I really wanted to have more in this chapter, but I've been so incredibly busy lately I haven't had time to write, so I posted what I had. I wanted to let everyone know that I'm still around and still working. I haven't given up on our hero yet!