"Retired, mostly." Dad had always insisted that he was never going to retire, but in the same breath he wouldn't accept the charity of anyone else coming in to take care of mom. A home was out of the question, of course. Dad did what consulting he could from home, less and less now that he was away from the field, and lived on his pension. Foreman didn't visit much, but he sent what he could to make sure they were comfortable. He was glad enough that Dad considered that his duty, and not charity, otherwise they'd probably be in far worse shape. "He was an electrician." Being a trades apprentice had been a damn lucky place for him in the years right before Foreman was born. Kept him out of Vietnam. Mom had had various jobs when Eric was growing up, in sales mostly, but she'd also been a substitute teacher, and she'd taught Sunday school through most of his childhood. Didn't exactly help with the medical bills all these years later, though.
Thinking about that, he missed the change in Amber's breathing, as it got shorter, although he could feel her shoulder hunching under his chin. Maybe he'd really pulled too hard. She might not admit it if she still thought this was about 'winning'. Foreman adjusted his position, hoping it'd help her get more comfortable, but her thumb massaging his palm encouraged him to stay close. Later he could help her work the kinks out...he grinned. As it were. A massage, after their gym trip... His mind wandered a bit, although he was paying attention enough to catch Amber's brothers' names again, and at least where they were, even if he'd probably have to ask again exactly what they did.
"Uh--" He pulled up sharp a second later. This Thanksgiving. Meet you. He nearly froze on the spot, like a little bird hypnotized by a snake. Meet him? He'd barely met Amber. And she'd already told her mother about him? When had that conversation taken place? When all Amber knew about him was that he was her boss and she'd given him the cold shoulder for three days? In between the bouts of wild sex? And what the hell had she said? Thanksgiving wasn't just a meal, or even a meeting. It was a damn family event. Meet all of them? Get paraded around as 'the boyfriend'...fuck. He wasn't ready. Everything in him was screaming too soon! Too much. Panic slid through him so fast that he could barely breathe, let alone concentrate on an answer. He hadn't even thought about Amber meeting his family--Jesus, at all, if he could prevent it. It had been over a dozen years since they'd met a girlfriend of his. And now Amber oh-so-casually invited him over? God, it really was like high school; he'd have to be on best behaviour, play the guest, pretend he didn't notice if anybody's eyes slid over him carefully and pretended not to notice that he didn't exactly match their family. "That's, that's soon," he said, and cursed himself for the lamest response, his mouth working ahead of his brain. Not that his brain was working at all. "We might have a case," he said, grasping at straws. They might. They did most years. Not that Foreman had ever asked for the time off. Aside from a few football games, he hadn't marked Thanksgiving at all since he'd moved back from California.
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Thinking about that, he missed the change in Amber's breathing, as it got shorter, although he could feel her shoulder hunching under his chin. Maybe he'd really pulled too hard. She might not admit it if she still thought this was about 'winning'. Foreman adjusted his position, hoping it'd help her get more comfortable, but her thumb massaging his palm encouraged him to stay close. Later he could help her work the kinks out...he grinned. As it were. A massage, after their gym trip... His mind wandered a bit, although he was paying attention enough to catch Amber's brothers' names again, and at least where they were, even if he'd probably have to ask again exactly what they did.
"Uh--" He pulled up sharp a second later. This Thanksgiving. Meet you. He nearly froze on the spot, like a little bird hypnotized by a snake. Meet him? He'd barely met Amber. And she'd already told her mother about him? When had that conversation taken place? When all Amber knew about him was that he was her boss and she'd given him the cold shoulder for three days? In between the bouts of wild sex? And what the hell had she said? Thanksgiving wasn't just a meal, or even a meeting. It was a damn family event. Meet all of them? Get paraded around as 'the boyfriend'...fuck. He wasn't ready. Everything in him was screaming too soon! Too much. Panic slid through him so fast that he could barely breathe, let alone concentrate on an answer. He hadn't even thought about Amber meeting his family--Jesus, at all, if he could prevent it. It had been over a dozen years since they'd met a girlfriend of his. And now Amber oh-so-casually invited him over? God, it really was like high school; he'd have to be on best behaviour, play the guest, pretend he didn't notice if anybody's eyes slid over him carefully and pretended not to notice that he didn't exactly match their family. "That's, that's soon," he said, and cursed himself for the lamest response, his mouth working ahead of his brain. Not that his brain was working at all. "We might have a case," he said, grasping at straws. They might. They did most years. Not that Foreman had ever asked for the time off. Aside from a few football games, he hadn't marked Thanksgiving at all since he'd moved back from California.