This chapter is dedicated to my follower Tesfaye_girl who has motivated me to continue with this story.  Thanks for your comments and votes.

5 - Thanksgiving With The Family  

Over the next two weeks, Brent apologized over and over again. Just seeing him on the weekend was a thing of the past, he visited me every night and brought me flowers. His remorse was sincere. He confessed he totally lost it, claiming the trigger had been a conversation with one of his professors who had told him that he was failing a class. When he had seen me with Martin, it was the straw that had broken the camel's back.

"I am so sorry," were always his first words after greeting me. "Please forgive me."

Eventually, I did, totally believing him. After he was out of the dog house, he eased up a little but there were no longer two consecutive days when we didn't see each other. Even my dad accepted him as an almost permanent fixture to our apartment.

It was the middle of November when he requested for me to come home with him for Thanksgiving. I never thought my father would agree but he actually seemed relieved.

"I think that's a great idea. I have to work and it would mean a lot to me if Rena had a real family celebration for a change."

He even paid for the flight to Virginia. There were conditions, of course, one being that he talked to Brent's parents. Both confirmed they were delighted to have me and promised that they would keep an eye on things. There would be no temporary cohabitation in the same bedroom – both fathers didn't want the risk of an unwanted pregnancy. They were so naïve. If Brent and I really wanted to have sex, there were plenty of opportunities during one of the many evenings my father left us alone in the apartment to go to work.

Yet, we had not reached this particular level in our relationship though things had heated up after Caroline's party during those many hours of forgiveness. We often snuggled on the bed, now skin on skin except for my panties and his boxers, watching movies or listening to music. He made me shiver when his hands touched me tenderly or when he covered almost my entire body with kisses and a few times, I had almost given in.

He exercised admirable constraint and never rushed me. He bided his time, knowing that I wouldn't be able to resist forever, but had no clue that I had secretly already fixed the day I would become his – December 19th, my sixteenth birthday. Only a few more weeks to go and he held steady.

I was actually really excited to meet his parents. I bought a new dress down to my ankles to look respectable and left most of my makeup behind. I wanted his folks to get a good impression of me.

My heart was pounding in my throat when his father picked us up from the airport. He was a giant of a man, physically trim with muscular arms and a hard face. I was immediately intimidated.

"So this is her," he said sternly, inspecting me suspiciously in the most scrutinizing way.

"Yes, sir." Brent stood straight as a stick, never meeting his father's gaze. I had the impression he was terrified of him and would later learn that he had sufficient reason to.

"Let's go," his dad grunted and we followed him like sheep on their way to the slaughter.

The trip to the house was almost unbearable. Mr. Parks practically interrogated his son, asking about his grades and how he was getting on in Chicago. Brent's answers were as concise as possible, never elaborating on anything. He never mentioned the failing course and I knew instinctively not to get involved in any of their conversation. I sensed trouble if I had.

His mother was the complete opposite, kind to the extreme. She hugged Brent for a full two minutes in tears before turning to embrace me.

"Oh, I'm so happy to have you two spend the holidays with us," she cooed. She showed me to the guest room and I was stunned by the meticulous order. There was no speck of dust and everything was in its proper place. The whole room reminded me of a museum - even the towels in the bathroom were aligned in a perfect row.

The rest of the house was equally perfect. Brent's room didn't even look like a child had ever lived in it – there were no posters or sports trophies or anything else that would make the place homey. It was sterile with whitewashed walls and white bed sheets. The only color in the room was a burgundy carpet.

"Come on down and I'll make us tea," Mrs. Parks offered. "I baked a loaf of banana bread. It's still your favorite, isn't it?"

"Yes, mom." Brent gave her an affectionate smile. "We will be right down. Let us first unpack."

As soon as she disappeared, Brent pulled me into his arms. "So, how do you like my folks?"

"Oh, they seem very nice," I claimed though his father was giving me the creeps.

He smacked a kiss on my lips. "I think they like you, too. Especially my dad."

"What makes you say that?" I asked, having thought the complete opposite.

"Usually, he can be a bit critical. By not talking to you, you met his approval."

I wasn't sure if that was a good thing. After we both unpacked with plenty of kissing to keep us occupied, we went downstairs. It was my lucky day, his father was just leaving.

"I have to go back to the office. We are working on a case and they need everyone to help out. Don't wait up with dinner - I'm not sure when I'll be home."

Oddly, I felt relief. All of a sudden, I wasn't looking forward to the Thanksgiving meal tomorrow. It would be awkward with him around.

When we got to the kitchen, we found Brent's mother kneeling on the floor, sweeping together pieces from a broken tea cup. She had been crying.

"Hey, let me get this for you," Brent said, pulling her on her feet and hugging her briefly. I noticed a bruise on her face. He started to pick up the leftovers from the cup.

"I klutz ran into the open cabinet and dropped the cup," she offered when she noticed my gaze. Back then, I believed her. I never knew anything about spousal abuse and couldn't even remember a fight between my mother and father. My dad was a big teddy bear, grumpy at times, but couldn't hurt a fly. He never even spanked me and slapping me in the face would have been unthinkable.

The rest of the day was quite amicable. Mr. Parks didn't show and Brent was totally different around his mother. They seemed very close and he confessed that he was really struggling with school and would probably have to repeat a few courses.

The tea was calming and the banana bread divine. Brent was sitting on a barstool and I was half sitting, half leaning against him with his arms tightly wrapped around me like he wanted to protect me from something. When it got dark, we burned scented candles and the whole mood was light with laughter.

"You two seem really happy together," his mother said.

Brent beamed. "Rena is the one, mom. I couldn't imagine ever being with anyone but her."

Oh, this made me feel so special. I didn't realize that a seventeen year old should not make plans like that for the rest of his life and that our relationship had progressed way too fast to a much too serious level. Though we didn't have sex, we acted like an old couple and not like someone who hadn't even been together for three months. All the warning signs were there but I chose to ignore them.

She prepared dinner, chicken parmesan, and I fixed a salad to help out. The food was great but both Brent and his mother mostly commented on my creation even though I had hardly done anything. I was flattered by all the attention.

We cleaned the kitchen afterwards and I was surprised when Mrs. Parks scrubbed everything down with a disinfectant.

"My father has this thing about germs," Brent explained while putting up the dishes. Again, the whole cabinet was carefully arranged. The cups reminded me of little soldiers lined up in a perfectly straight line.

After dinner, we played cards in the living room. Coasters were placed under the glasses and popcorn crumbs immediately removed. Mrs. Park's eyes were in constant motion to make sure everything was in order and both Brent and I had everything we needed. I was offered ice cream, tea and cookies, all of which I declined because I was stuffed. I could see Brent being spoiled as a child.

Mr. Parks came home at ten thirty and the conversation fell quiet as soon as he stepped through the door. He looked exhausted.

"Let's all go to bed," he demanded and there was no doubt in my mind that I had to comply.

After the lights went out, Brent snuck into my room and I slept all night cuddled up in his arms. Just before six, he got up and went back to his room, five minutes later, I heard his father rummaging in the hallway. His son must know his schedule by heart.

Thanksgiving Day was actually not as bad as I had feared. Brent took me to the beach and we strolled along the shore for a long time, wrapped in warm overcoats his mother had given us. It was so romantic. We fed the seagulls with bread crumbs and breathed in the fresh ocean sea.

"This is so much better than Chicago," I said, staring out on the endless ocean, watching the angry waves roll to shore.

"I used to come out here a lot. Being close to the sea relaxes me."

"Why didn't you study around here?" I asked. "It must be hard being away from all this."

He looked like he just bit into a sour grape. "Since I was very little, I wanted nothing more than to leave home. My parents don't have the best of marriages in case you haven't noticed."

His confession didn't surprise me - Mrs. Parks seemed terrified of her husband. "But you are also studying psychology. Don't you want to become a profiler like your dad when you're finished?"

"No. I want to go into private practice. I would like to work with people involved in violent crimes and abuse."

I was puzzled. "Don't mostly women work in those areas? I mean, a lot of those are rape and spousal beatings and I couldn't picture victims actually confiding in a man."

He smiled, his eyes thoughtful. "I wasn't talking about the victims, Rena, but the perpetrators. I strongly believe that intense therapy is needed to prevent repeat offenses. In the long run, getting those people help will protect the victims as well."

It made a lot of sense. "You could actually bring a lot of good to people. I'm really proud that you have such defined career goals."

He traced my lips with his fingers. "That means a lot to me."

I enjoyed our stroll and was sad when we got back to the car. Going home meant more of Mr. Parks.

Yet for the rest of the day, Brent's old man was on his best behavior. He waited on his wife hand and foot and was a great host. Nothing was too much for him. Brent told me later on the plane that he put on a show for me. It was one of the reasons he had invited me, hoping that his father would not argue for once with his mother over the holidays.

The next morning, Mr. Parks was gone to work again and Brent and I went shopping. We split in the mall, both trying to get a head start on our Christmas shopping. I was in the drug store, trying to find an aftershave for my dad, when I was approached by a girl a few years older than myself. She was really pretty with long blond hair and very unique curved eyelashes.

"Excuse me, I saw you earlier with Brent Parks. Are you his new girlfriend?"

"Yes." I frowned at her, not really sure what she wanted from me.

She glanced around with wide eyes. "You should stay away from him. He..."

"Are you spreading lies about me again, Ruthie?" Brent's voice was lethal when he appeared behind her out of thin air.

She stared at him and I had never seen anyone more frightened. Without a further word, she vanished in the crowd.

He grinned at me sheepishly. "That was my ex. We didn't split on the best of terms. She has been spreading nasty lies about me and tried to get between me and anyone else I was interested in. I guess she didn't get over the breakup."

I should have asked more questions but once again I didn't. I never occurred to me that she could have been the one who had broken up with him and that she had tried to get a restraining order against him which had been denied because his father had pulled some strings. I never saw her again and would not learn until after I was arrested that Brent had visited her that night and had beaten her to a pulp while I had been sleeping in his parent's home, believing everything he had ever told me.   

So she gave him another chance, even went home with him to meet his parents! How did you like them (especially the dad)? Do you think mom hit her head on the kitchen cabinet or was it maybe something else? And what do you make out of the whole Ruth situation?

Chapter ended with a bang. Did that work for you?

All comments are really appreciated. Don't forget, there is also the little star button in the corner you could push if this chapter deserved it.

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