Fries, Fear, and First Impressions

Michelle couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed this much on a weeknight.

They were in Roy's car, the smell of fries still lingering in her clothes, her duffle bag thrown in the back seat. The city slid by outside the windows, streetlights flickering on as dusk settled in, and she felt light in a way she rarely did. Tired, yes, but happy-tired. The good kind.

"So what," she said, grinning over at him, "you really didn't think I'd actually track you down at work?"

Roy chuckled, eyes on the road. "I just wasn't expecting a surprise delivery. You spoil me."

She beamed at that, a warm glow spreading through her chest. She loved the way he said things like that. Simple. Easy. Like being with her was a treat, not a chore.

She shifted in her seat, turning toward him a little. "I just wanted to see you. Today felt long."

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, just these double-shift days... Walmart was a zoo. Everyone cranky, everyone in a rush. And McDonald's was slammed right after school let out." She rolled her eyes. "Kids ordering a million fries and then complaining about the wait. Like, sorry I'm not a wizard."

Roy smiled. "Sounds exhausting."

"It is. But..." She shrugged, then smiled again, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Seeing you makes it better."

The words came out easily. Naturally. She didn't overthink them. Maybe this was what it was like to be in a grown-up relationship, not the immature crushes she'd had in high school.

Roy was older than her. Way older. She knew that. More than twice her age, if she actually did the math. Some people might think that was weird. Some people would judge her for it. She didn't care.

It wasn't like he was some kind of creep, picking up young girls, trying to recapture a youth that was long gone. He wasn't like that at all! Roy made her feel safe. Seen. Valued. When he looked at her, it wasn't like she was a kid playing at being an adult. He treated her like she mattered. Like her thoughts mattered. Like her future mattered.

She wondered, not for the first time, what her dad would have thought of him.

Her daddy had been a big man. Strong. Hands rough from years of framing houses. The kind of man who could lift heavy beams like they were nothing, who smelled like sawdust and sweat and shaving cream. When she was little, she used to think he was invincible.

By the end, though, the cancer had taken so much from him. Shrunk him. Hollowed him out. But even then, even when he was weak, even when he could barely get out of bed, he was still her daddy. Still strong in the ways that mattered.

He had told her, more than once, not to settle.

"Fight for the best life," he'd said. "Don't let nobody tell you what you deserve. You go get it."

Sometimes, sitting next to Roy, she felt like she was doing exactly that.

Roy wasn't what people might expect for her. White. Shorter than her dad had been. A little overweight. Hair thinning. But to Michelle, none of that mattered.

Roy was kind. Roy listened. Roy cared.

Roy was the best possible man for her.

The thought made her want to curl into him, to press herself into his side and just stay there, wrapped in his arms, letting the world fade out. Loved. Protected. Chosen. She glanced at him again and felt that familiar flutter in her chest.

"So," she said lightly, "what do you want to do tonight?"

Roy hesitated just a beat too long. She didn't really notice.

"I'm easy," he said. "As long as we're together, I'm happy."

Her heart practically melted.

"Really?" she said, smiling wide.

"Really."

She had never really had a boyfriend before. Not like this. Not someone real. Not someone she let this close. She'd always kept boys at arm's length. Focus first. Future first. Don't get distracted.

But Roy wasn't a distraction. Roy was her future.

They drove for a few more minutes, chatting about nothing and everything. Customers. Traffic. A dumb commercial she'd seen. A story from his office that she only half-understood but laughed at anyway because he was smiling when he told it.

Then he came up to a turn into her neighbourhood and wasn't slowing down. Frowning, she looked over at him.

"I think you're going to miss the turn," she said.

"Oh, uh, sorry," he hit the brakes quickly. "Which way again?"

She blinked. "Uh... right here."

He turned as directed.

She tilted her head. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said quickly. "Just... long day. My brain feels kind of fuzzy. You might have to guide me in."

She nodded, accepting it easily. He'd been to her place before. She was sure of it. But everyone got forgetful sometimes. Especially when they were tired. It didn't mean anything. She didn't let the thought linger. So what if she had to remind him. At least he was coming with her. At least they were together.

Besides, Michelle had other things to think about. Already, the idea of standing under the shower, hot water cascading over her skin, felt like a siren call. The more she thought about it, the more she couldn't wait to wash the smell of grease and sweat off her skin and put on something that made her feel pretty. Something Roy liked. Something Roy really liked.

The last thing Michelle wanted was for Roy to only think of her as his girlfriend who smelled like fast food. After all, she wasn't the only woman in his life.

Elaine.

The name always brought a complicated mix of feelings. She didn't resent her. Not really. She understood. Elaine loved Roy. And Roy loved Elaine. They were obviously meant for each other, meant to be together. A perfect couple. Not that it was a competition.

But she didn't want to be overshadowed either. And not because she wanted to take Roy away. Just because she wanted to matter too.

She wanted Roy to look at her and see something special. Something worth choosing. Something that stood on its own, not just as the other girlfriend.

She glanced down at her uniform. "Ugh, I need a shower so bad. I smell like a grease trap."

Roy laughed. "You smell fine."

"Liar," she said, laughing too. "I'm fixing it anyway."

A few more directed turns and the pair found themselves driving down her street. Soon her house came into view. It was small, a little run-down, paint peeling in spots. Nothing fancy. Just home.

Then she saw her mother's car in the driveway.

Her stomach dropped.

"Oh," she said softly.

Roy glanced over. "Everything okay?"

"My mom's home," she said, pointing at the car. "I didn't think she'd be back yet."

Nerves fluttered in her chest. She had never brought a boy home before. Not really. Not like this. Not someone who mattered.

What would her mom think?

What would she say about Roy's age? His race? The whole situation?

It was too soon. She wasn't ready for this. Bringing a man home to meet your mother should be planned out, should be an event, not changing after work before running off.

Roy stopped the car on the street in front of the house, putting it in 'Park'.

Michelle swallowed. "She's probably tired. Long shift. Maybe she's in bed already."

"You think?"

"No," she said, "not a chance. She's probably already seen us, and is waiting inside."

Roy nodded, his skin looking paler than usual. "If you want, I can wait in the car."

She shook her head quickly. "No. It's too late for that. I think you'd better come in. I mean... I'm not sure what the best thing is, but I know you not coming in will only make it worse."

"I'm so sorry," Roy said quietly. "I didn't mean to complicate things."

"Oh, hon," her heart melting at his words. "You aren't a complication. You're my man. This was something that needed to happen. I just wasn't expecting it so soon. I was hoping to work up to this moment. My mom can be... well... a lot."

They were quiet for a moment, the words settling into silence.

"But I love you," Michelle finally said. "And she's going to see why. You're a fantastic guy, a great boyfriend." She grabbed his hand, as if she could pass what little courage she had to him. "I don't even know why I'm nervous! Everything's going to be great!"

"Really?"

"Probably not," she laughed. "But whatever. At least we have each other!"

She leaned over, gave him a quick, aggressive kiss, then unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car. By the time she'd retrieved her bag from the back seat, Roy had rounded the car to stand next to her, the pair staring at the house as if it were a hungry lion.

Ready or not, here they were.

Michelle took a breath and smiled at him, a little nervous, a little excited, a lot hopeful.

"Wish me luck," she said.

"You luck? What about me?" Roy said incredulously.

She reached over, squeezing his hand. "Aw, you'll be fine. I've got your back. How bad can it be?"