Meet the Parents: Dad

I've been sitting on this one too long to keep it to myself until tomorrow.  Enjoy!  Hope you are all having awesome weekends :)
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Though I had fallen asleep easily, it didn't last long.  It felt like I had just closed my eyes when I dreamed I was with Jordan.  He had me by the arms, pinned against a wall.  Except instead of being in a crowded bar with someone there to help, we were alone in an unfamiliar living room.  There was no one there to stop him when he started pulling at my clothes.

I woke with a start, and I panicked in my half asleep state when I felt arms wrapped around me.  I struggled away, rolling off the bed and to my feet.  "Liv, what's wrong?" came Brody's voice, sounding sleepy but concerned.  Brody.  They were Brody's arms, not Jordan's.  I took a deep, shuddering breath and sat down on the edge of the bed before my shaking legs gave out.  In the dark I could see him sitting up.

"Nothing, nightmare.  Sorry.  I'll be right back."  I slipped quietly out of the room and into the bathroom that was between our room and Jen's room.  I was thankful for the nightlight so I didn't have to turn on the overhead light as I splashed some cold water on my face.  I had gone nearly three weeks with only one nightmare about Jordan at one point, but then as my stress at work increased, he had crept back into my nocturnal thoughts every few days. 

I made my way back into the bedroom, legs still shaky.  Brody was laying down again but he raised his head when I climbed back into bed.  He reached for me and I slid next to him, laying my head on his chest and allowing him to wrap his arms around me.  "You're shaking," he said quietly.  One hand made its way up into my hair and massaged my scalp gently, while his other arm tightened protectively around me.  "Must have been some nightmare."

"Jordan," I whispered.  I felt his muscles tense briefly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.  I shook my head.  His fingers continued massaging my scalp, and I started to relax against him.   But between being in a strange bed in a new place, the memory of the nightmare, and my nerves about meeting Brody's dad the next day, I didn't sleep well.  I was restless, tossing and turning the rest of the night.  I finally fell into somewhat restful sleep around 5 am, but was still exhausted when Brody got up around 9. I stayed in bed for another half hour, tossing and turning. 

Brody came in with a cup of coffee when I was almost done getting dressed.  He kissed me on the forehead and studied my face with concern.

"Did you get any sleep?" he asked, handing me the coffee.  I took and it drank gratefully.

"Not really, and I'm guessing you didn't either.  I'm sorry," I said.

"I slept some," he said with a shrug.  "Better than you, I imagine."  When I didn't say anything else about my dream, he continued.  "My mom made breakfast, are you hungry?"  I nodded.  That never changed.

After an amazing breakfast of eggs, sausage, and french toast stuffed with walnuts and strawberries (can I just move in here?), Brody's mom insisted she had things to do and disappeared.  Neither Ken nor Jen was anywhere to be found.  We decided to go for a walk to kill some time.  We bundled up (there was no snow in Denver or Colorado Springs, but this town was higher in elevation and had nearly a foot on the ground!) and set off.

We ended up walking around the neighborhood for nearly two hours.  At one point, we were a little lost, but we navigated our way back to somewhere Brody recognized.  We wandered to a small park and I was trudging through the snow to look at the creek when a snowball caught me square in the back.  I spun and saw Brody standing about 10 feet away, laughing.

"You did not just do that!" I shrieked, reaching down to make my own snowball.

"Actually, I did!" he yelled back, running through the snow and ducking behind a tree.  I launched my snowball in time for it to hit him in the back of the leg as he disappeared behind the tree.

"Throwing a snowball at your girlfriend and then hiding behind a tree is not a terribly manly thing to do," I called out, bending down to make another snowball.  I heard footsteps behind me and stood just in time to be tackled into a pile of snow.

"How about that?" he asked, his green eyes sparkling.  "Was that manly enough for you?"    He was laying on top of me in the snow, face inches from mine.

I smirked at him.  "It's a step in the right direction, anyway."

"Oh, you'd better be quiet, considering you're the one stuck in the snow!" he replied with a laugh.

"Make me," I said, still smirking up at him.  He pressed his lips to mine.  They were warm on my cold face.  We kissed for several seconds before Brody reluctantly pulled away.  He stood and reached down to pull me up.

"Now we should probably head back so you can get dry," he said, turning me around to see my soaked coat and pants.  We walked back hand in hand.  When we returned, he insisted I shower first, even though he was just as wet as I was.  When we were both clean, dry, and dressed, we emerged to find that Jen was sitting in the living room.  Apparently, she had been taking Ken to the airport this morning.  We warmed up leftovers for lunch and passed the afternoon chatting and watching TV.

Finally, it was time to get ready for dinner with Brody's dad.  Brody was uncharacteristically quiet, and I guessed he was a little nervous.  As we drove out, he told me that his dad always picked the same restaurant, which was stupidly expensive and not that good.  He chattered mindlessly, and his nervousness was increasing my own.

We arrived 10 minutes early, and Brody told the maître d' we had reservations with Brian Adler.  The maître d' nodded and said that Mr. Adler was already seated.  Brody sighed and we followed him to the table.

Mr. Adler did not stand to great us.  He stared at us flatly as we approached, and when we got there, the first thing he said was, "About time."  Brody ignored him, and I resisted the urge to point out that we were 10 minutes early.  I was baffled by the young woman sitting next to him, and apparently Brody was too, because he was looking at her curiously.

"Dad, this is my girlfriend Olivia," he introduced me.

I shook his hand and said, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Adler."  He gripped my hand just a hair too tightly, and didn't ask me to call him Brian.

"What's your last name?" he asked.

I blinked in surprise, wondering why it mattered.  I didn't see the harm in providing it, and Brody wasn't protesting, so I told him as Brody pulled out my chair for me.  Once we were seated, Brody's dad introduced us to the woman sitting next to him.

"This is my date Lindsay.  Lindsay, my son Brody, and...Olivia."  Lindsay looked like she was lucky if she was my age.  He turned back to Brody and continued, "I figured since you were bringing a date, I would too."  If by date, he meant "escort," judging by the looks of her...

"Dad," Brody said, his voice calm.  "Olivia isn't my date.  She's my girlfriend."

"Of course," his dad said dismissively. After an uncomfortable pause, he turned to me and said, "So you'd be the reason Brody didn't care to stay in Miami with my company, then?"  I blinked at him, caught completely off guard and with no idea what to say.  Luckily, Brody broke in.

"Olivia factored into my decision, yes," he said, fighting to keep calm.

 Mr. Adler glanced in Brody's direction and then turned his calculating eyes back to me.  "You're a little young for my son, don't you think?"  I bit my tongue to keep myself from spitting out that that was awfully rich coming from him. 

"She's almost 27," Brody snapped. 

"And does she do any speaking for herself?" his dad asked, slowly and deliberately returning his unflinching gaze back to Brody.  "Do you plan to feed her dinner to her as well?  Do you pick out her clothes and tell her who she can hang out with?  Or do you prefer to manipulate her the same way you manipulated me?"  Brody didn't respond.  I was seriously impressed with his poker face, because I was absolutely flabbergasted by the turn the conversation just took.

I didn't have much time to ruminate on it, because Mr. Adler turned back to me and said, "So it must be serious.  Do you plan to get married?"  I could see Brody's jaw clench out of the corner of my eye.  I laid my hand on his leg under the table and squeezed gently.  His muscles were tense and I could tell he was struggling to not jump in and respond on my behalf again.

"We're just enjoying the way things are now, we haven't really gotten that far yet," I replied, smiling.  Under my hand, Brody's muscles relaxed fractionally.

"I can't quite place your accent," Mr. Adler said, studying me.  "It's faint, but it's there."

"I grew up in Wisconsin," I replied politely.  He frowned, Wisconsin apparently not to his liking.

"Oh.  Wisconsin.  How...quaint.  And Saffiano?  That sounds Italian.  But you certainly don't look Italian."  Apparently it was the 20 Questions (that weren't actually questions, but still required an answer) hour. 

"I'm not," I said simply.  Then I turned to Lindsay, eager for a subject change.  "What do you do, Linsday?"

"I don't really do anything anymore," she replied.  Despite the brevity of her answer, her smile was friendly enough.  Then our $300 bottle of wine (who needs $300 wine?) was delivered, saving me from having to come up with a response.

As soon as the server was gone, Mr. Adler continued his barrage of questions.  "What do your parents do....Olivia?"  He paused before he said my name, as if struggling to remember it.

"Seriously, Dad," Brody broke in.  "Ease up with the questions."

"I don't remember addressing you," his dad said coolly.  Brody started to protest but his dad continued on, simply talking over him.  He asked me several more questions, and then he leaned back in his seat and smiled slightly as if he had just remembered something funny.  "How many children do you have?"  I blinked at him, completely taken aback.

"Enough!" Brody snapped.  Luckily our server arrived just then, and after we were done ordering I excused myself to use the restroom.  Brody stood up and pulled my chair back as I stood.

I used the bathroom and then washed my hands slowly, letting the water run on my hands way longer than necessary.  This guy was a real piece of work, and I hoped the rest of dinner would go by quickly.

As I walked back to the table, I caught a glimpse of Brody.  He was speaking to his dad, and his face looked angry.  His hand that was on the table was clenched in a fist and he was leaning forward.  When he saw me coming, he said a few more words to his dad, then his face relaxed a little.  He stood as I approached the table and pushed in my chair as I sat.  As he sat, he brushed a quick, soft kiss against my cheek.  He gave his dad a hard look as he straightened.

His dad turned to me and flashed a familiar charming smile.  "So Olivia, Brody tells me you're a therapist," he said.  I nodded.  "Did you have to spend a lot of time in school for that?"  His tone was now perfectly friendly.  He remained that way throughout dinner, as if a switch had been flipped.  It was completely disconcerting and I almost wished he'd go back to grilling me.  He ignored Brody and Lindsay nearly completely as he delved into my life with polite and charming inquiries.

"Dessert?" he asked, once we were finished eating.

"No," Brody said, sliding his chair back.  "In fact, we should get going."  He turned to me.  "Are you ready, Liv?"  I nodded and stood.  In an obvious power play, Brody peeled several hundred dollar bills from his wallet and dropped them on the table.  "Dinner's on me this time.  Bye, Dad."  With that, he took my hand and walked towards the door.

He was silent as we walked through the restaurant.  He dropped my hand as we waited for his SUV, and his hands immediately clenched into fists.  I touched his arm gently.  "Do you want me to drive?" I asked.  Silently, he walked to the passenger side and got in.

I slid into the driver's seat and adjusted it for my short legs.  I moved the mirrors and then looked at Brody.  He gave me short, curt directions.  Once we got out of the city he said, "Do you mind if we make a stop?"

"Of course not, just direct me," I replied.  He didn't speak again but to give me directions.  We drove past the road to his mom's house and continued up the mountain.  He directed me to a turn out, and asked me to stop the car.  He reclined his seat slightly and stared silently out the windshield.  We sat there for 10 minutes.  I gave him his silence, and after a few minutes he reached over for my hand.  I slid my fingers between his and we sat in silence for a bit longer.

Finally, he said, "Okay, I'm ready.  Thank you."  I started the car and he directed me back to his mom's house.  When we got there, he walked in quietly and went straight past his mom and Jen sitting on the couch.  They looked at me curiously, but didn't seem surprised by his silence.

"How'd it go?" Thalia asked.

"I'm...not entirely sure," I replied. "Not very well, though I guess it could have been worse." 

"Sounds about right," Jen said with a grimace.  Her dinner was tomorrow.  I smiled sympathetically and walked towards the stairs.  Brody wasn't in the room we were sharing when I got there.  I brushed my teeth and washed my face and changed into sweatpants, then wandered back down to the living room.

I paused in the doorway and saw Jen smile.  "Try downstairs," she suggested.  "Down and then the first room on your right."  

I walked down the stairs to the lower level, then tentatively pushed open the first door I found on the right.  The room was empty except for a treadmill and a heavy bag suspended from a stand in the middle of the room.  Brody was leaning against the wall examining his knuckles.  He was sweaty and shirtless, and looked a little ridiculous in just his dress pants and shoes.

"Couldn't even wrap them first?  What did I tell you about punching things?  I need those hands."  I teased gently, hoping he'd be out of his silent funk.

"I wanted it to hurt," he muttered.  He finally looked up at me, then gestured to the punching bag, then the treadmill.  "This is how I made it through high school.  As soon as I became aware of how much of a horrible person my dad really was...and then when Heather..."  He stopped, and I nodded to show him I understood.

I walked over to him and he pulled me into a fierce, crushing hug.  "Thank you," he said into my hair.  "He was beyond an asshole, and you handled it perfectly.  I'm really impressed and incredibly grateful.  I'm sorry I was so short in the car, and that I ditched you as soon as we got here.  I just needed to blow off some steam and I was scared I'd be a jerk to you if I talked too much."  I worked my arms out from where they were trapped between us and wrapped them around him, gently massaging the tense muscles of his lower back. 

I wasn't sure what to say in response, so I made a safe choice.  "I love you."

He snorted.  "Yeah?  Even after tonight?  Hell, after this weekend?"

"Even more after this weekend," I said sincerely.  He pulled away and held me at arm's length, studying my face.

"Oh really?" he asked curiously.  I nodded.  "And why is that?"

"Because I'm terribly grateful that you turned out as normal and amazing as you are."  He stared at me silently for several seconds, then burst into laughter.  He hugged me again, still shaking with laughter.

"Liv," he said, pulling back to look at me, "if I ever forget how lucky I am, you have my complete permission to kick my ass."