“I should’ve known,” I sighed.
“You better get out of here,” she smacked my butt, “before Tracey-poo comes in here after you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you please stop calling him by that ridiculous name?” I asked, striding out of her room.
“Nope!” She called after me.
I sighed and grabbed my purse from the guestroom before making my way downstairs and out through the garage.
It was snowing again; a good inch already coated the ground. Growing up in New Hampshire I was used to heavy snows but people in this area flipped out if there was even a dusting of snow on the ground.
“Hey,” I smiled lightly, climbing into the car.
“You look nice,” he grinned. “Who are you trying to impress? It’s certainly not me,” he joked with a small chuckle.
I tugged on the end of the dress and buckled my seatbelt. “Hmm, who could I want to impress?”
“They’re going to love you,” he reached for my hand and gave it a small squeeze before letting go to back out of the driveway. “Don’t worry. I was nervous to meet your mom, and she liked me, right?”
“That’s because you’re extremely likable,” I groaned. “I’m the quiet shy girl that everybody overlooks because they think she’s stan
doffish. I don’t want your family to think I’m rude.”
“They would never think that,” Trace sighed, glancing both ways before turning out of the neighborhood.
“How do you know?” I sulked. My nerves were getting the best of me. I had never ever met a guy’s parents, because I had never dated before. This was completely new for me. I didn’t know what to do or what to say.
“Because, I know everything,” he winked.
I fanned my face. “It’s really hot in here.” I wiggled in my seat. “I think my butt’s on fire.”
Trace chuckled and pushed a button. “Sorry, the seat warmers are kinda hot.”
“How far away does your mom live?” I asked, chewing nervously on my fingernail.
Trace grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my mouth. “Not that far.”
“That’s vague,” I frowned.
“About fifteen to twenty minutes from here,” he shrugged.
“And your grandparents will be there too? Are they your mom’s parent’s or your dad’s?” I rattled.
“They’re my dad’s parents and they—uh—live with my mom and brother. Or my mom and brother live with them. Whichever way you prefer to look at it,” he ran a hand through his hair.
“Um-okay, because that’s not confusing at all,” I muttered.
He chuckled. “It used to be my grandparents’ house but they gave it to my dad. They continued to live there though.”
“Gotcha,” I mumbled, staring out the window at the snow falling.
We both grew quiet and I silently coached myself that everything would be okay, and I wouldn’t make a complete and total fool out of myself.
I never did well with meeting new people and I knew my anxiety would be ten times worse with meeting Trace’s family.
I chewed nervously on my bottom lip, and it began to bleed, but I didn’t care. It distracted me and that’s exactly what I wanted. I’d chew right through it if I had to.
We drove deep into a thickly wooded area with large houses every few acres or so.
