Chapter 36: Meeting the parents
On the morning of my father's birthday, I woke up early—earlier than I would've liked, honestly. I'd stayed overnight on set because we had a late-night shoot, and instead of driving home, I figured it was smarter to crash in my trailer. I'd already informed the director days before that I'd need the first half of the day off, and thankfully, he was more than okay with it. There were a few scenes to shoot that didn't involve me, and most of the important material left for the day was scheduled for after sunset. Night scenes.
The problem wasn't with work. The problem was standing in front of me—or rather, behind a door I was currently knocking on.
Crystal's trailer door.
See, yesterday I had a long phone call with my mom. She asked me how I was doing, how work was going, small talk in preparation for surprising my father with my visit. And then, out of nowhere, she went straight for it.
"So," she said, "are you seeing anyone?"
I don't know why I didn't deflect. I could have. It would've been easy to just say, "Not really," or "It's too early to tell." But instead, I told her the truth. That yes, I was. And without skipping a beat, my mother—being the enthusiastic, slightly overbearing woman that she is—immediately asked me to bring Crystal over so they could meet her.
And I, being the absolute genius that I am, just… agreed.
At the time, it didn't feel like a big deal. I was caught up in the moment, I guess. But now, standing outside Crystal's trailer at 7:30 in the morning, I realized one major flaw in my brilliant plan.
I hadn't actually told her.
The door creaked open slightly before being slammed shut just as fast. I heard her voice, muffled from behind the door.
"Why are you here first thing in the morning?"
I chuckled under my breath. "Why did you slam the door on my face?"
"I don't want you to see me right after I've woken up!" she shouted from the other side.
I kept laughing. I had almost forgotten this part of the early relationship phase—when someone still wants to look put-together in front of the person they're dating. At some point that fades, once comfort sets in, but clearly, we weren't quite there yet.
A minute passed. Then, reluctantly, she opened the door again.
"Come in," she said flatly. "And not one word about how messy this place is."
I stepped inside and looked around. Everything was spotless. Bed made. Shoes neatly lined up. Even her makeup station was organized.
"…Messy?" I muttered, genuinely confused, but chose not to comment further.
She narrowed her eyes at me as I stood by the couch,trying to find the right words. "Alright," I said slowly, "I'm going to tell you something. And I really, really need you not to get mad."
Her expression changed immediately. She crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, already on guard. "What is it?"
I exhaled. "So… it's my dad's birthday today."
She nodded slowly. "Okay…I know that"
"And I spoke to my mom yesterday."
"Right."
"And… she wants to meet you."
Crystal blinked. "Like… in the future?"
Silence.
"In the future, right?"
More silence.
"Jace," she said, voice rising. "Tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying."
"They want to see you today."
Her jaw dropped.
"You can't just drop this on me! You don't just show up at someone's trailer, first thing in the morning, and say, 'Hey, by the way, my mom wants to meet you in the next two hours.' That's not how this works!"
"I know, I know," I said, hands raised, already bracing for impact.
"We've only been dating a few weeks! A few weeks, Jace! This is supposed to be something we plan for! This is not just showing up and saying 'Hey, by the way, hope you have a cute outfit because you're about to meet my entire family.'"
I stood there, letting her get it all out, because honestly, she was right. I deserved this. I just stood there and mentally prayed to every deity I could think of that somehow, someway, this situation would work itself out.
Maybe she'd say yes. Maybe she'd soften. Maybe, somehow, the universe would give me a break.
So we ended up being two hours later than the originally agreed-upon time to meet my parents.
The plan had been to arrive by 11 a.m., giving us enough time to settle in, have lunch, and spend a few hours together before I needed to head back. My parents didn't live particularly close to the set—it was a solid three-hour drive each way—and I had a night shoot scheduled, so I had to be back by evening.
The window was tight to begin with, and our delay made it even tighter. We only got there around 1 p.m., just in time for lunch.
The delay wasn't without reason though. Crystal had rushed herself yet what she had to do at such a short notice still took some time , and I didn't blame her. She insisted on showering, doing her makeup from scratch, and—much to my surprise—getting a gift for my dad.
When I told her that my parents weren't the type to care about presents or material things, especially expensive ones, she had simply shrugged and said, "It's not about what they care about—it's about the gesture."
So, she bought him a watch. A classy, understated design—not too showy, but clearly thoughtful. It wasn't flashy or absurdly priced, just something elegant enough to make a good first impression.
The drive itself felt like a memory being replayed in real time. It had been a long while since I'd returned home. Not since just after high school graduation, really. Back then, I had moved in with Sam pretty quickly, and life had swept me along ever since.
Coming back now, after everything—after waking up in this world with all the knowledge and memories of a life before—it hit me differently. This wasn't just going back home. This was going to a place that belonged to a version of me I only knew from borrowed memories.
I felt the nervousness creep in slowly the closer we got to the house. And by the time we pulled into the driveway, it had settled heavy in my chest.
I spotted the Audi immediately. The one I had arranged to be delivered as a birthday gift. It was sitting in the driveway, the protective wrap still intact, a neat little bow resting on top of the hood.
Just like I'd asked the delivery company to do. That told me Dad hadn't seen it yet—most likely my mom had kept him away from it, waiting for me to arrive so it could be a proper surprise. A part of me was relieved we hadn't missed the moment entirely.
I parked the car and cut the engine. My hand lingered on the keys for a second longer than needed. Crystal glanced at me from the passenger seat.
"Hey, you okay?" she asked, her voice soft, almost careful. "I think I'm the one who's supposed to be nervous, remember?"
I smiled faintly but didn't respond right away. I stared out at the house—same light-blue paint, same slanted mailbox that never quite stood straight. "Yeah," I said after a moment. "It's just been a while since I've come back home."
Crystal reached over and touched my hand lightly. I turned toward her, and for a moment, I forgot the nerves entirely.
She really had gone out of her way.
She wore a light pastel-blue midi dress, soft and flowing, with ruffles along the hem that moved gently every time she shifted. The fabric shimmered under the afternoon light—not flashy, but noticeable in that quiet, elegant kind of way.
The neckline was modest, square-cut with slim straps that framed her collarbones gracefully, and a thin white belt tied it all together at the waist, highlighting her figure in a subtle, tasteful manner.
A small leather crossbody bag hung by her hip, understated but coordinated. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail—low, neat, with a few soft strands falling near her face. Her makeup was light, natural, but you could tell she'd taken her time with it.
She looked beautiful.
But more than that, she looked like she belonged beside me.
She got out of the car first and waited for me by the front, standing quietly as I took a moment longer to collect myself. I grabbed the gift box from the back seat—small, square, carefully wrapped—and walked around the car to stand by her.
"You ready?" she asked.
"As I'll ever be," I murmured, then took her hand in mine, and together, we walked toward the door.
As we walked up the familiar steps and I raised my hand to knock on the door, it felt like my heart was trying to escape through my chest. My nerves hadn't calmed on the drive, and now, standing just inches away from the front door of the house I'd grown up in, everything felt heavier—more real.
It didn't take long before the door swung open.
There she was—my mom. Older than I remembered. Her face had more wrinkles than what my memories held, and she looked thinner too, maybe a little more tired, but her eyes... her eyes still held that same warmth I'd always known. And when they landed on me, they immediately began to glisten.
"My dear son," she breathed, and before I could say anything, she pulled me into a hug.
And just like that, the years seemed to fall away.
"Hi, Mom," I murmured into her shoulder, holding her tightly in return.
"Come on in," she said, stepping aside, and then paused. "Is there any—"
She stopped when she saw Crystal standing just behind me. Her gaze went from Crystal's shoes to her dress, up to her tied-back hair and the soft smile she wore. Then she looked at me, one brow arching.
"Come in, darling," she said to Crystal, offering a warm smile.
Crystal responded with a polite, "Hello, ma'am," before stepping in with graceful composure. As she passed, my mom leaned in just slightly and whispered, just loud enough for both of us to hear:
"You pulled one out of your league, son. Well done."
That made both Crystal and me break into laughter, easing the tension a little.
"I'll go and get your father," she said, turning toward the stairs. "He's talking to his friends on the phone. Make yourself at home, dear."
With that, she disappeared up the steps, and I led Crystal toward the living room. The place hadn't changed much. The same pale green walls, the mismatched cushions on the old couch, the faded photo frames lining the shelves. It was all just... home. Familiar in a strange way, like something from a dream you haven't had in years.
There were a lot of memories here. Not all of them good. I remembered being a kid and wondering why my friends always had new games or the best consoles, and I had to wait—sometimes for months—just to get them second-hand. I never really understood why we couldn't just have the things other families did. But now, after working for everything on my own in more than one life, I understood. I understood the weight my parents had carried to give me even the simple things.
I sat down on the couch, letting those memories settle. Crystal followed and eased down beside me, her posture just a bit stiff. She looked nervous, and I couldn't blame her. I reached over and rested my hand gently against her back, then tugged her slightly toward me.
"You're going to be fine," I whispered, "You're doing great."
"Yeah, well, easy for you to say," she muttered, the edge of a smile peeking through. "Usually people have days to prepare for this. You gave me, like, two hours of prep time."
"You know, Batman can beat basically anything with two hours of prep time," I said, nudging her shoulder lightly.
"Yeah? Well then, go kiss Batman," she shot back instantly.
"Oh trust me," I grinned. "I would if I could."
She narrowed her eyes at me, an exaggerated glare that made her look more adorable than intimidating. Unable to resist, I reached over and gently squeezed her nose between my fingers.
She huffed in response, but the corners of her lips twitched.
Yeah, she was going to be just fine.
…
Authors note:
You can read some chapters ahead if you want to on my p#treon.com/Fat_Cultivator