A workaholic? Then it ran in the family. Well, at least in part of it, excluding his black sheep of a brother. But to go from electrician to doctor in one generation, that took effort, determination. Pride swelled in Amber: she'd had nothing to do with Eric's accomplishments, but she was here now. Might be with him for his next achievements. "What about your mom?" This she asked with more hesitation; the way Eric mentioned her cooking earlier, it sounded as if she'd passed away already. Amber didn't want to bring up difficult memories, but as long as they were going over their family histories...
Ah, fuck, it really had been too soon. If their sex life had been shelved, it was probably dead now. Eric turned into a woodblock, as rigid and sharp. Amber could practically hear his balls scrunching up and seeking refuge from his crazy woman who fucked him and now wanted to talk family. Snuggle time was officially over. Heavily, Amber sat up, expression wary. She gave it five minutes before this became a real fight, with yelling and more burst feelings. God forbid they had a serious conversation without a drama outbreak.
"You don't have to go if you don’t want to." she said. Could be as simple as that; wouldn't be, though. Eric had the jitteriness of a worm pierced by a hook. "I don't want to go." If she went with Eric, she'd be the center of attention, with questions like how long and where did you meet? (A month and by the hospital entrance-- he had an umbrella and I just had to get into his pants.) And, god, they'd know by now he was black-- mom would've told (warned, more like) everyone by then-- but they'd stare because only seeing made believers. And then they might not ask the other questions they would've otherwise, things like have you moved in together and-- fuck-- other ones that'd short-circuit Amber's mind if she let herself think of them. (She wouldn't let herself imagine Eric's petrified mortification if he overheard, you aren't thinking of having kids, are you?) If she went alone, there'd be the smirks that maybe she and her 'boyfriend' weren't so serious after all. They'd better not tell her, it's probably for the best; she wouldn't be able hold back an extreme reaction.
No, Thanksgiving would be terrible no matter what. It just might've been really fucking nice if Eric hadn't reacted to the invitation as if to a basket brimming over with toads. "I hope we have a case, it’s the only way I'll get out of it." Plus, the only way to avoid the embarrassment of going with or without him.
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Ah, fuck, it really had been too soon. If their sex life had been shelved, it was probably dead now. Eric turned into a woodblock, as rigid and sharp. Amber could practically hear his balls scrunching up and seeking refuge from his crazy woman who fucked him and now wanted to talk family. Snuggle time was officially over. Heavily, Amber sat up, expression wary. She gave it five minutes before this became a real fight, with yelling and more burst feelings. God forbid they had a serious conversation without a drama outbreak.
"You don't have to go if you don’t want to." she said. Could be as simple as that; wouldn't be, though. Eric had the jitteriness of a worm pierced by a hook. "I don't want to go." If she went with Eric, she'd be the center of attention, with questions like how long and where did you meet? (A month and by the hospital entrance-- he had an umbrella and I just had to get into his pants.) And, god, they'd know by now he was black-- mom would've told (warned, more like) everyone by then-- but they'd stare because only seeing made believers. And then they might not ask the other questions they would've otherwise, things like have you moved in together and-- fuck-- other ones that'd short-circuit Amber's mind if she let herself think of them. (She wouldn't let herself imagine Eric's petrified mortification if he overheard, you aren't thinking of having kids, are you?) If she went alone, there'd be the smirks that maybe she and her 'boyfriend' weren't so serious after all. They'd better not tell her, it's probably for the best; she wouldn't be able hold back an extreme reaction.
No, Thanksgiving would be terrible no matter what. It just might've been really fucking nice if Eric hadn't reacted to the invitation as if to a basket brimming over with toads. "I hope we have a case, it’s the only way I'll get out of it." Plus, the only way to avoid the embarrassment of going with or without him.