Trapped… so to speak

The Edward Home

As Andrew walked up the brick path to the front door of the ever evolving house he had called home, Andrew’s smile started to fade. The house had changed over the years. Initially, it was the keeping with the Jones mindset. Eventually, it became the house all the other Jones tried to keep up with. But that wasn’t why his smile had faded.

Something was off.

The birds were chirping like expected. The scent of baked bread was leaking out of the house as expected. The driveway filled with cars from his siblings were all there. But, the house, felt too quiet.

As he paused in front of the door, Andrew listened all the more closely. There was no voice yelling for any of the children to stop running. There was no horseplay from the children. There was no elder Edward telling their children to relax as the grandchildren played.

This silence had his mother’s signature all over it. Sadly, Uber had already been paid for and left. Andrew was trapped. Whatever was going on inside was not going to make him very happy.

For whatever reason, ever since his dad had clamped down on his mother’s efforts to rescue him, she had gotten very good at sneaking jabs his way about his state of affairs. Very covert. Very subtle. Very minute gestures. She spoke an unspoken language. Andrew knew it too well. He had to.

Without understanding this coded language, his emotional life would have been in shambles.

His dad must be out either on business or with the other siblings. The only unknown here, as far as Andrew was concerned, was who was on the other side of the door. If it was his mom, he was ready for her. She rarely lost her composure, but if she had and was standing on the other side, she’d not be ready for his state of readiness.

Andrew stepped back. He grounded himself by straightening his back and picturing his feet anchoring to the foundation of the house. Andrew clenched his fist as he exhaled deeply.

Once that felt good, Andrew released all the tension in his body, fixed his collar of his button down shirt, adjusted his watch, smoothed his eyebrows.

He gave a brief chuckle. The eyebrow smoothing was one of the last nervous ticks from his childhood Andrew had yet to master. He was close. Very close. But still, a tell of his weakness he would eventually conquer.

It was time. Time to enter. Whatever trap was set, Andrew knew the front door was not locked and he was going to march in and take control of matters. His mother was probably hoping he didn’t know she had left the door unlocked. How his mother lacked insight into what he could do and anticipate.

As his hand rested on the door, the energy of the house felt nervous. Andrew could not explain why he felt that. It was not the buttoned up controlled vibe Andrew got whenever his mother was home. She moved with total iron will. The house resonated with power and control. It was not stiff. It was not cold. Just power. Raw. Controlled. Tuned.

This was different. Timid. Hesitant. Nervous. Unsure. Eager. Open. Almost scared. As if being judged in a very intense high stakes challenge but wrapped in optimism.

A setup.

His mother had broken the sacred covenant of his dad.

The house was empty save one.

A date.

A blind date at that.

Opening up the door with less gusto than originally planned, Andrew walked in in full ownership of his space and looked straight forward.

The registered look of surprise on the face of the woman standing in the hallway was priceless. Cute too.

The girl recovered rather quickly. She had been coached. His mom had done a really good job of preparing this woman.

Young. Attractive by most indexes, conservative outfit. Looked ready to babysit but also ready to step out to the mall in an instant as well.

Her shoulder bag was that of a college student who was trying to look city hip. Her slightly worn boot tips suggested she enjoyed a bit of rugged outdoor life. Her skirt did not seem to match her personality, as if she was being interviewed and had to wear a skirt. Her top was athletic inspired and suited her well, but the shawl had no place on her at all other than to make Mrs Edward happy.

The standard precise cut on the long hair definitely was influenced by Mrs Edward. The poor gal really wanted to impress very badly. That was not a good thing. No character. No individuality. Worse, too much eagerness to please his mom.

Her smile was warm and welcoming. Her eyes beamed of confidence with just enough trepidation.

Andrew decided he liked this lady on the grounds that her soul was not dead and completely subservient to his mother’s strength. They would never end up in a relationship, but he was keeping the door open enough to allow her a chance to be his friend… if she said the right things that is.

For now, he had to close the gap between the two of them a bit faster. All this assessing had taken place as he had let the door close behind him as he walked up to her at a comfortable slow pace.

Closing the last few steps a bit faster, Andrew reminded himself to put on a bit of charm and act interested. The poor woman had no idea what she was up against. The last thing he needed was to have her report that he had been anything less than charming. He had to have her run back to his mom and report how taken and smitten she was.

That would buy him time. Enough to gently let her down and introduce her to one of his friends who would gladly pass as the love interest that had passed the mother’s test the day before. Or some variant thereof. What play he’d use would depend on how she carried herself.

“Hi” the girl said in a very even tone.

“Well, hello there!” Andrew replied with the enthusiasm of an old college friend happy to be reunited after months apart.

Andrew’s warmth and charisma threw the woman back off her stance. She nearly stumbled. She had heard how cold and impersonal Andrew was. The greeting he had given her was anything but. And his smile was electrifying. Her stomach muscles immediately tightened. She was not in the presence of a weak socially inept child who had access to money. He was very much a man in complete control of the very oxygen she was trying to breathe.

“Um… hi…” She immediately regretted sounding so stricken and smitten. Pulling her hands sheepishly behind her, she hoped that her blushing was not very obvious.

“Good to see you, Erica” beamed Andrew.

If Erica had been swept off-guard by his warm hello, this very forward beam and he calling her by name had shaken her foundation. Everything she had learned about Andrew was wrong. She had been set up!