Happy Merry Everything (Charlie Barber)

Mom and Dad

As the two of you stood hand in hand on the sidewalk outside of Minetta Tavern, you craned your neck to look up at Charlie who was lost in thought, most likely trying to anticipate the events of the night to come. He'd been pensive the entire cab ride over, the only interaction being his hand occasionally moving along your thigh, silently checking in to let you know he was still with you. You gave his hand a squeeze, hoping to bring him back online and he peered down at you. His eyes were telling of the thoughts still swirling around in his head. You did your best to offer a reassuring smile, stepping in closer to his body.

"Stop worrying," you said ever so softly. "They're going to love you." He nodded and gingerly brought your hand up to his mouth, his lips lightly peppering the back with long, languid kisses.

"Are they meeting us inside or?"

"Uh, she didn't say, but if you want to head in we can. I don't think that would be a problem."

"Are you sure because I'm happy to wait out--"

"Charlie."

He cut himself off. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Just a little bit," you said, hoping a little light ribbing would only do him good.

He huffed out a laugh; he was obviously somewhat embarrassed. "I really don't know what's going on with me. You know I'm not usually like this." You nodded with understanding. Charlie sighed, his hand nearly running through his hair out of sheer reflex, but stopped short. His eyes grew wide, the realization he could have absentmindedly gone from presentable and dapper to utterly disheveled with the wave of his fingers all too apparent.

"It's okay, really."

"I haven't met anyone's parents in over a decade. Well, not personally. I mean, I've met the parents of Henry's friends, but that's a parent meeting another set of parents. What I mean is meeting parents like...I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

"It's kind of adorable."
"How do you always know the right thing to say to make me feel like less of an ass?"
"Because I know you."
"That you do and I love you more than words can say for that."
"I love you too."

"You know, if this wasn't my first time meeting them, I'd really consider having a cigarette right about now."

"You can always smoke after if you really want to," you suggested sweetly.

"I know." He was silent. You could tell he was choosing his next words carefully.

"Do either of your parents drink?"
"Why, do you already need one to take the edge off?"
"Does your dad own a shotgun?"
"No."
"Then no."

You tittered. "I'm not barefoot and pregnant, Mr. Barber."

An all too familiar smirk crossed his countenance as he narrowed his eyes.

"Don't start with that. Not now."

You raised your hands, feigning innocence and sporting a full grin.

"For what it's worth, my mom's a bit of a lush and by lush I mean she has a glass and a half of red wine and is ready to belt "Mamma Mia" with Meryl Streep."

His smile matched yours.

"Well, now I'm regretting saying no to the Knickerbocker. What about your dad? What's he like?"