Don't fall out of your chair or anything, but I don't have a little editorial to post here. I know, it's shocking. All I have to say is: excuse the mistakes, because I'm a lazy bum who doesn't proofread, and, as always, thank you for reading.

"Finally you turned on your cell!"

Josh rolled his eyes. "C.J., you do realize I did have to, you know, actually get on the plane and fly to Wisconsin."

"Yeah – but – didn't just now take extra long?"

"No."

C.J. sighed. It wasn't her fault she was excited about Josh meeting Donna's parents. "Okay, fine," she resigned. "How did the shopping go?"

"It was interesting," Josh replied.

"Did you find good stuff?"

"Airport, C.J. Shopping in an airport." Josh knew that women may be shopping-crazed, needing serious medication and everything, but honestly. An airport. And not a fancy one – but are there actually fancy ones?

"Right," conceded C.J. "Was Donna suspicious?"

"What do you think?"

"Right. What are you doing now?"

"Well, we just deplaned, Donna's in the bathroom, and we're going to go get our bags soon."

"You're only there for the weekend, why do you need bags?"

"What does it matter?"

"Just wondering."

"Yeah," said Josh.

"But, why?" C.J. nagged against his protest.

"Well, have you ever seen how much stuff Donna carries? And, the fact that I needed my lap top and that they have a requirement for how much stuff you can bring on the plane. That's why."

"You also had to bring a lot of different outfits, too."

"C.J.!" Josh squealed.

"You should have asked me for fashion advice."

"Donna told you? When?"

"Earlier today. Anyway," C.J. said, switching her tone of voice and the subject simultaneously, "how are you getting to her parents'?"

Josh wished C.J. could see his glare right now. "We're renting a car," he replied, teeth somewhat clenched.

"The Mosses aren't picking you up?" C.J. said, her visage falling as she learned Josh had escaped a treacherous mine of awkwardness.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no. They offered, but we kindly refused."

"I see. Don't want to trouble them?"

"Something like that."

"Chicken."

"Have people ever told you that they hate you?"

"Yes, but that's why Evangelicals pray for me."

They paused.

"Are you calling me just to bask in my suffering?"

No need to lie. "Yes," replied C.J.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Fairly well, I must say."

"Well, nothing's happened yet, but when it does, how about I'll make sure to call you and let you know."

"Oh, Josh," C.J. cooed. "That's so kind of you."

"What can I say."

"You just want me to get off the phone right now."

"Yeah."

"Okay, fine. Good luck."

"Thanks." Josh hung up and waited for Donna to leave the bathroom. The pressure was mounting, and Josh started bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet, hoping it would relieve some of the tension. He was absolutely, most certainly afraid of meeting Donna's family. He loved her, and the fear of failure frightened him more than nearly anything ever had. It was funny that this fright almost felt worse than other horrible times in his life. But, regardless, he was scared. His paranoid thoughts were interrupted when Donna walked out of the restroom.

"Ready?" she asked.

He hesitated, then decided to say, "No. Are you sure you still aren't finished – I don't know – getting all un-plane-y? You could stay in there longer and probably wash your hair in a sink and blow-dry it with those hand drying machines."

"Funny," she replied, giving him a look. "Come on, relax, you'll be fine."

"I'm scared."

"Aw."

"I am!"

"Baggage terminal. Let's go."

"Donna!"

She was laying down the law. "Oh, for crying out loud, Josh. Let's go! Enough whining."

"Fine," Josh huffed in response and slowly began to follow her, when she stopped and extended her hand for him to take.

"Sorry for being mean," she said, squeezing his hand, "but you're being ridiculous. My parents aren't going to murder you or anything. You gave me a job."

"Yeah, and whisked you away from Wisconsin, barely to be heard from."

"How do you know how often I call my parents?"

"I just know these things."

"Oh, Josh," Donna sighed. "No one's going to hate you. They'll see the good side of your personality – hopefully – and will approve of our dating."

"But, Donna, your family is full of – full of Republicans!"

Donna yanked Josh and began to walk towards the baggage carousel. "Only some of them are, and I'll tell you which ones to avoid."

Josh pulled up alongside Donna after slightly walking behind her, dropped her hand, and stopped walking. "What's the ratio?" he asked, rubbing his forehead.

"Oh, I don't know—"

"Donna," Josh replied, his voice stern.

"Oh, three to one, I suppose…"

"DONNA!"

"You'll be fine," she replied as Josh looked around, trying to find the nearest terminal whose next flight was for D.C. – or San Diego – or anywhere other than Wisconsin. "And," she said, once again grabbing his hand as if he were a disobedient child who kept running away, "our plane tickets won't get you home today, so let's go."

Josh grumbled something inaudible and once again trailed Donna as they went off to baggage claim D1 – wherever that was.

---------

"Wow, Josh, a mid-size sedan," Donna said sarcastically as the kid – who had to be no older than seventeen and was working at an airport car rental kiosk, of all places – awarded Josh with a key and a number, telling him the cars were easy to find in the garage.

"What's wrong with a mid-size?"

"You couldn't get a full?"

"No, I figured you wouldn't care. Actually, I figured you'd be happier with the smaller size because it meant I'd spent less money."

"Oh."

Josh looked at Donna questioningly. She seemed sort of – upset? What had he…

"Oh, my God," Josh whisper-yelled.

"What?"

He pulled Donna off to the side of the airport right before they walked out into the garage. "Will your dad see it as a sign of weakness or financial insecurity that I only rented a mid-size?"

"Well—"

"Donna! You're supposed to tell me these things!"

Josh's eyes were wider than ever. Donna left him hanging with his look of shock for a minute and then broke out into laughter.

"Oh, I see how it is," Josh said, reacting to the laughter. "This was all part of an elaborate setup."

"Elaborate?" Donna choked out between giggles.

"Fine, maybe not elaborate, but certainly a setup."

"Yes."

"You're very adorable, did you know that?" Josh lamented sarcastically, beginning to walk out into the garage.

"Yes."

"Absolutely adorable."

----------

"It's really – flat."

"Yes, Josh, welcome to the Midwest."

"But this is really, really flat."

Donna rolled her eyes. "You've been to Midwestern states before, what's the problem?"

"It's just so… flat."

"Well, you'll be surprised to know that we actually do have civilization out here – modern civilization, too."

Josh glared at her. "I know that. I just – it's always a shock when you go from a tree-populated area to a corn field-populated area."

"I see."

He groaned and shifted around in the passenger's seat awkwardly. Donna tried her best to control her laughter when the image of Josh, his classic sunglasses on, elbow up on the door near the window, hand raking through his hair, and his right leg up on the dashboard when he groaned "Are we there yet?"

"Not yet. But if you're good, I'll give you a treat later."

Josh's eyebrows peeked out from behind the sunglasses. "Donna! No! No sex while at your parent's house!"

"Oh please," she replied, turning to look at him, "I meant like a cookie or something. You're acting like you're five. Please mature back to the intelligent forty-something you are or else you'll be stuck sitting with my nieces and nephews tomorrow."

"Yeah, fine, whatever."

They traveled on for twenty more minutes in remote, comfortable silence, while Josh tried to fiddle with the radio to get some music going. In their thirtieth minute of driving, he began to lose it again.

"Could these roads be any more boring? I swear to God, put the car on cruise control and tie the steering wheel up with a bungee cord so it doesn't move and you've got your own chauffeur."

"Josh, I swear," snapped Donna. "Be kind to my family who don't freak out driving down the highway in their home state or there will be repercussions when we get home. Besides, we've got, like, fifteen more minutes. So, chill out."

Josh shifted around in his seat a bit more and sighed loudly, signaling he understood the request, and the rest of the ride went on without a hitch. They turned off at the exit, drove past a grocery store and a playground (where Donna fell off a swing at age five, he learned) and, then, came to East 32nd Street.

"Only one more street to go and we're there!" Donna cheerfully shouted.

"What's the name of it again?"

"Boston Road."

"Boston Road?"

"I didn't name it."

"They just named a street after the state capitol of Massachusetts?"

Donna rolled her eyes for what must have been the, oh, millionth time that day. "Apparently they did. But, if it makes you feel any better, the next street over is Philadelphia, and then Constitution, and…"

"Hey! It's like a birth of the nation theme!"

"Yes."

"Cool!"

"Whatever makes you happy, Joshua."

They took the turn on Boston Road, and, five houses down on the left, came to the Moss Residence.

Where the lawn was covered with signs stuck into the ground.

Supporting Republican candidates.

Josh examined further and noticed what appeared to be a poorly drawn chalk elephant in the small driveway.

"Ha," Donna chuckled nervously. "I guess my family's having some fun with you."

Yep. Josh's Thanksgiving was going to be a blast.