Over Mrs. Volakis' shoulder, Foreman saw Amber pull out of her hug with her dad and chase Geoffrey down with the bags. There were still four in the trunk, including his two, and he started to move in that direction.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Mrs. Volakis said. "Geoffrey will get you two settled. Come and meet my husband." Carrying the salad, she took his elbow and turned him towards the house, where Mr. Volakis was holding the door for them.
Once they were all inside and the door swung shut lightly on the cold, he turned to Foreman with a smile. "Hi, Eric. I'm Chris, Amber's dad." His handshake was as firm as his son's, but more casual.
"I'll just get this to the kitchen," Mrs. Volakis said. "Chris, get Eric something to drink."
Before Foreman could catch up with where Amber had disappeared to, he found himself ushered into the living room, a large, warm room. He'd expected, somehow, the same sort of good quality but worn furniture that still sat in his parents' house--the stuff that had been there all through his childhood and had suffered a couple of teenage boys wrestling on it more than once--but the Volakis' decor was, while obviously meant for comfort, was equally obviously meant to impress with its style and modernity. Foreman found himself clasping hands with Geoffrey's wife--Lisa or Lola, he was beginning to lose track of names--and Amber's aunt. "You'll have rye, Eric?" Mr. Volakis asked, and Foreman nodded; he hated rye, but a drink would be welcome, at least to occupy his hands.
"Amber tells us you're a doctor," her aunt said, seeming unwilling to give up her hold on his arm and his attention.
"Neurologist," Foreman agreed, with a quick glance around the room. Where had Amber gotten to?
"Oh, that's wonderful," the aunt--Foreman tried to drag her name back to the front of his mind--said. "I've been having this tingling in my hands. For months now--it comes and goes. That's not right, is it?"
Foreman hesitated, and was saved from answering when Mr. Volakis put a glass in his hands. "Jude, it's your circulation, Dr. Mitenko told you that." Finally, in a rush, Amber appeared on the stairs. Foreman didn't want to seem like he'd been feeling like a cornered animal without her to at least take some of the brunt of socializing, so he sent her a pained smile from across the room instead of going over to her, hoping it didn't look like he was begging her to rescue him.
no subject
"Oh, don't worry about that," Mrs. Volakis said. "Geoffrey will get you two settled. Come and meet my husband." Carrying the salad, she took his elbow and turned him towards the house, where Mr. Volakis was holding the door for them.
Once they were all inside and the door swung shut lightly on the cold, he turned to Foreman with a smile. "Hi, Eric. I'm Chris, Amber's dad." His handshake was as firm as his son's, but more casual.
"I'll just get this to the kitchen," Mrs. Volakis said. "Chris, get Eric something to drink."
Before Foreman could catch up with where Amber had disappeared to, he found himself ushered into the living room, a large, warm room. He'd expected, somehow, the same sort of good quality but worn furniture that still sat in his parents' house--the stuff that had been there all through his childhood and had suffered a couple of teenage boys wrestling on it more than once--but the Volakis' decor was, while obviously meant for comfort, was equally obviously meant to impress with its style and modernity. Foreman found himself clasping hands with Geoffrey's wife--Lisa or Lola, he was beginning to lose track of names--and Amber's aunt. "You'll have rye, Eric?" Mr. Volakis asked, and Foreman nodded; he hated rye, but a drink would be welcome, at least to occupy his hands.
"Amber tells us you're a doctor," her aunt said, seeming unwilling to give up her hold on his arm and his attention.
"Neurologist," Foreman agreed, with a quick glance around the room. Where had Amber gotten to?
"Oh, that's wonderful," the aunt--Foreman tried to drag her name back to the front of his mind--said. "I've been having this tingling in my hands. For months now--it comes and goes. That's not right, is it?"
Foreman hesitated, and was saved from answering when Mr. Volakis put a glass in his hands. "Jude, it's your circulation, Dr. Mitenko told you that." Finally, in a rush, Amber appeared on the stairs. Foreman didn't want to seem like he'd been feeling like a cornered animal without her to at least take some of the brunt of socializing, so he sent her a pained smile from across the room instead of going over to her, hoping it didn't look like he was begging her to rescue him.