Something Blue

Chapter 21

"This is a bad idea," Elliot remarked, ankle-deep in a snowbank. The storm had slowed to a flurry-fall. White sprinkled over his blue hair like some sort of fancy French pastry. "You told them I was coming, right?"

"Of course, yeah." Pierce shrugged before lifting Elliot's suitcase out of the trunk. "I mentioned it."

"What do you mean you mentioned it?" Elliot blinked nervously. "You didn't ask them if this was okay? You didn't get their permission? What if they don't want me here?"

The drive to Renville was surprisingly unexciting. They had kept on the backroads until they could finally see tire tracks in the asphalt. They didn't even use the cat litter as traction. The car slid a couple of times, though, but Pierce was calm during the whole drive - unlike Elliot, who had asked to go back to campus about five times. Pierce had goaded his nerves at first, but ultimately quieted and placed a comforting hand on his thigh for the remainder of their journey.

"It'll be fine," he promised. "My mom loves everyone - except Taylor." He winced slightly. "And you can't be worse than Taylor. Trust me. You'll understand when you meet her."

"Who's Taylor?" Elliot asked, suddenly panicking. "And what's your mom's name? Or your dad's name? Do you have pets? You only have two siblings, right? Were you a bed-wetter as a child? I didn't prepare for this."

"Relax. I promise I'll give you the guidebook if you survive dinner," Pierce joked, cracking a grin. He admired Elliot's tottering stance. "You're cute when you're nervous."

Stomping through the snow, Elliot swatted him.

Pierce's house was flanked by frosted pine trees and frozen telephone poles. It was a boxy, white farmhouse with a pointy roof and paneled windows. There was a single chimney, but it wasn't lit. In fact, the only light came from the front window - the kitchen, presumably. Elliot hoped there weren't too many people inside. He only counted two cars in the long driveway. Aunts and uncles maybe? Cousins? Friends? The vehicles couldn't belong to neighbors. The closest house was two miles away, which, somehow, made the big yard seem even bigger. Elliot imagined Pierce as a little boy, in the summer, running through dandelions with childhood mischief on his mind. The imagery made him want to come back in the spring.

Walking into the Thompson household felt like walking into a hug - warm, welcoming, and way too tight. The walls seemed to squeeze the furniture in a needy embrace, barely leaving enough space for Pierce to set their bags in the hallway. He tiptoed around the staircase, trying not to draw attention to the baby pictures that were covering the peeling wallpaper. Quietly, he kicked off his shoes, so Elliot did the same. The wind was still drifting in from outside, but they both removed their jackets and strewed them over the banister.

Between the distant sound of untuned piano chords and the ticks of an annoying shelf clock, an old man's voice groused, "So I says to him - Buck, I know that's my good wrench. It didn't just get up and walk out of my toolbox. I'm not an idiot - "

Pierce let the door slam - loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough to be polite. "I'm home," his voice boomed.

Plink-a-plink-a-plink-PLANK - the piano stopped with a clang.

"IS THAT MY LITTLE PEANUT POOH?" A loud voice coming from a very small lady.

Pierce closed his eyes, cringing. "Mom. Can we save the nicknames for later? Please."

A scrunched-face woman entered the foyer, smiling with gusto. She was a foot shorter than her son, but her demeanor expressed no subjugation. "Welcome home, honey bear."

"Mom."

"Jeez-o-Peeties. Sorry. I can't help it. It's just the overflow of a mother's love. Sue me," she prattled. She framed his face with a squishing grip before kissing his cheek. "You look so mature and handsome. Except this beard. Who are you? Jeff Bridges?"

"Ma."

She turned. "And you must be Elliot? I'm Robin - Pierce's mama." Her midwestern dialect made each word sound pinched and nasally. "You know, I have one rule in this house - no one celebrates holidays alone, so I was so excited when Pierce texted me saying you'd be joining us. I couldn't imagine spending Christmas by myself. Ugh, golly goo goodness. We are all so happy you're here." Wow, she talked fast. "And don't feel like an outsider. We have Taylor here too. And Erin's friend Mo should be arriving soon. Like I said, I don't let anyone spend holidays alone. You should see this house on Thanksgiving - crowded as a beehive. I make everyone in town cook a dish and come through like an assembly line.

"Only because you hate cooking," Pierce mumbled to his mother.

Robin playfully patted her son's belly before saying, "But nobody leaves hungry." She smiled at Elliot and said, "Come on. Let's introduce you to the whole family."

They side-stepped into the living room and Elliot suddenly felt his palms begin to clam. He had never...met the family.

"Perry, get off that hideous chair and meet Elliot," Robin said.

"Who the hell is Elliot?"

"Pierce's friend," she said. "He's spending Christmas with us. Remember?"

"I barely remember the days of the week," he grumbled, un-reclining his chair. He stood and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you, Ellis." Beer-belly, cleanly shaved, and like a typical local - a flannel shirt.

"Elliot," the blue-haired boy corrected. He took Perry's hand and shook it with a stiff grip. The old man seemed to note the firmness.

"Elliot," he repeated, as if it was now worth remembering. His eyes almost twinkled as he glanced at his son's happy face - inspecting.

Elliot smiled mildly.

"I'm Taylor," a chirpy voice interjected. "Taylor BurMichael. First runner-up Miss Minnesota three years in a row. Future Miss America. And current reigning Miss Beltrami County." She was pint-sized and overly perky.

Elliot's squinted, as if he could make her disappear. "Impressive."

"I know," she beamed, giggling as she clung to a broad-shouldered man.

"I'm Chase," he gave him a nod, using his arms to secure Taylor's waist. "Pierce's older brother. And Taylor BurMichael's chauffeur."

Elliot mirrored his kind nod.

"This is my sister," Pierce directed. "Erin."

"Hey," she greeted Elliot, raising her wine glass. Her fingers were adorned with homemade spoon rings. She was probably a Libra. Very trustworthy, Elliot decided. "Awesome hair," she praised.

The small compliment made Elliot's chest loosen. "Thanks."

"I didn't think Pierce hung out with anyone other than Wyatt," Erin teased.

A small chuckle escaped Elliot's chest. "Yeah, well, we were forced to socialize. We were roommates."

"Oof," Chase exclaimed. "My deepest sympathies for you, man. His dirty socks smell like cat piss." His girlfriend Taylor grimaced.

"Cat piss on a hot day," Elliot agreed.

Chase chuffed a laughed.

Pierce looked offended, but he was secretly satisfied by their quick bonding.