Ch 16 - No Promises

Walter beside him didn’t make Triston feel much safer as they pulled into the driveway of Walter’s parents’ home.  Walter was in the driver seat.  They looked to each other and smiled.  He remembered what Walter had said to him, ‘don’t worry my father isn’t going to kill you’.  Triston thought about their conversation, but now was the worst time to have regrets.  They had been sitting in the living room, casually drinking beer and watching television.

“I have a weird question to ask you,” Walter said.

“How weird?”

“It’s not sexual.  It’s about real life.”

“Okay,” Triston said.

“Well, my parents have seen posts of mine accidentally and they asked me about them.  They’re worried about me.  They asked if I was seeing anyone.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Well, I told them about you.  Nothing specific just, you know, we’re friends.”

“What does that mean?”

“It sounded good at the time but I don’t know.  It means you look out for me.  I didn’t want to tell them I was having sex or in a committed relationship but that I had someone.”

“Okay,” Triston said.  “I’m just your friend?”

“Well, they asked about you a couple times and said they wanted to meet you.”

“I’m not sure,” Triston said.

“Would you go with me to meet them?”

He wanted to say no but it felt as if the request had some force to it, a momentum or gravity that pulled him along.  He was curious about meeting the people who had raised such a precocious young man, confident and naive, brave and unprepared.  He expected them to be hippies, maybe nudists or college professors.  He didn’t expect to find what he did.
   
They were greeted at the front door by his parents.  They were both in their forties.  His father had a pot belly.  His mother wore a sweater.  They reminded Triston of other people’s parents when he was growing up.  They were polite, midwestern folk.  They made sense here in a town far enough away from the capitol.

They were ushered inside to the living room, directed to the couch where they sat.  His father went to the recliner and sat.  His mother smiled and offered drinks.  Triston wanted to order a double Scotch on the rocks but stopped himself.  He looked around at the interior decorations, only the furniture was new and it all had a very rural sensibility but he didn’t take the man or his wife to be rednecks or white trash. 

He looked to Walter’s mother who stood waiting despite having asked about drinks.  Walter’s father looked as if he were accessing a file for what he was about to say.  Triston knew it had been rehearsed, possibly between the two of them.  He readied himself for any potential embarrassing statement, any accusation.  Walter was nineteen, a good ten years younger than him.

“When our son told us about you we weren’t sure if we ever wanted to meet you.  We wanted to discourage him but he has a way of getting the things he wants.  We know there’s an age difference between the two of you.  We know our son pretty well.  He does dangerous things sometimes.  It’s the ADD.  We also know he has good intentions and is kind hearted.

“Looking at you, knowing that you came all the way out here not knowing us we appreciate your courage and your willingness.  We think it says a lot about you.  Our son here is a man, a young man, and though he’s out there living his own life we also feel responsible for him.  It may sound strange but we think of you kind of like his older mentor and maybe, just maybe, you feel some responsibility for him.  We hope you do.”

Triston stared at them.  He looked to Walter who sat unmoving.  For someone with ADD he had managed to stay calm through the whole speech.  He wanted to say many things.  He wanted to show them kindness.  He wanted to promise them things.  He wanted to clarify the relationship.  A mentor was far from the boyfriend role Triston had thought he had.  He wanted to say all those things but looking at the two of them he found a simpler thing to say.

“I’ll do the best I can.”

There, it was a way out, it meant he’d try but there were no promises.  Walter’s father smiled and relaxed in his seat.  His mother walked away to the kitchen.  Triston looked to Walter who smiled before reaching down into his sock and scratching at his ankle nervously.