Family Values

[Charles Jones]

I've been here awhile, but have yet to post anything. Figured I'd take a shot at remedying this.
This is a "very short story," the writing of which was a major assignment for my fiction writing class last semester. The rules stated that it could be no more than 1000 words (I topped it out at 999 words... go figure), making it something of a vignette, I suppose, but I feel it's turned into one of my better pieces and I wished to share it here and see what came of it!
This story has seen any editing or revision since I wrote it, so I make no guarantees that there won't be errors of some sort or another. Here goes!


“Okay, hon. We're here.” I put the car in park, pulled the key from the ignition and turned to face Anna Lee. “Just remember: My folks are a little on the weird side, so take them as they are, knowing that once this is over with, we can just hop a flight back home.” Taking her hand, I continued, saying, “I promise, the last time you're likely to have to face them for a good long while will be at the wedding.”
“Would you relax?” She removed her seatbelt, turned, and puffed her chest out in a gesture of pure confidence. “It's fine; I've got this.”
“That's part of why I'm so worried,” I retorted, dramatically rolling my eyes for effect.
“Hey!” Anna Lee jerked her hand from mine and gave me a nasty look which her grin betrayed, proving her defensiveness as playful as my remark had been. “Jerk. I'm not that bad, and your parents can't be, either.”
“Further proving the fact that you don't know them. They ARE that bad. They're nuts. Seriously. You have no idea how strongly I considered suggesting we just elope.”
“Jesus Christ, Matthew!” I could tell by her tone that Anna Lee's patience was finally running thin.” You've been at this all week. If your parents are serial killers, tell me now, so we can go. Otherwise, I don't think they would be a deciding factor in my decision to leave you hanging at the altar.”
“Hey, hey... hey now. Don't joke like that. No need for that.” I felt an unchecked sigh escape me. “I won't say anything else, but don't go blaming me when they prove me right.”
***
My father greeted us at the door. He had seen the car pull up, and waited with surprising patience for us to walk up. No sooner had we stepped in than he had me up in a bearhug, my arms pinned at my sides and my legs left to dangle as he swung me back and forth with the strength he was known for. My mother looked on with a fond smile. Embarrassment had already begun to set in.
After the display of familial affection, my father greeted Anna Lee. “There you are! Get a look at you!” He looked over at me. “Boy, can you pick 'em! I can’t figure why you haven’t brought her by until now. You couldn’t possibly be embarrassed to be engaged to a looker like this!” I lowered my head in the sort of shame one can only feel from their own family.
Before my father could turn back to face Anna Lee, it happened. “Pencil-thin moustache,” she exclaimed, pointing at him with a look of joyful surprise.”
My father was taken aback. “Pardon?” After a moment, realization spread struck him. “Oh! Matt must’ve told you. Yes, I’m a big Jimmy Buffet fan, and his song inspired me to try one out for myself, years ago. Grew in great! You like?”
“Huh? Oh, no. Not really. Actually, it’s godawful. And I don’t listen to that crap, anyway. I just couldn’t help but notice your sex-offender ‘stache.”
“Excuse me?” My father was clearly shocked. His expression spoke volumes. He was nearly speechless. My mother continued to stare on with her typical, somewhat vacant smile. I used to wonder if my father kept her drugged, but now I think she was just born with half the normal amount of synapses in her brain.
“As long as you seem to consider it a compliment, though, what with the whole Buffet thing, can I just call you Ricky Ricardo, since I can’t remember your name?”
My father’s eyes widened. “A-are you joking?” He turned to face me, again, his eyes locking with mine, his expression unchanged. “Matthew Donald Erickson!” Oh, shit. All I could do was stand with my jaw slackened. Anna Lee was nothing if not unpredictable. It’s part of why I love her. But I had officially been thrown in front of an oncoming train of parental rage.
“Dear?” My mother spoke only this, and not in concern over my father’s imminent reaction, but due to the unusual pause before his action.
Then it came. “What the hell, son? You bring her into our home, and the first words out of her mouth are this disrespectful?” I wanted to melt into the floor, but then came the shocker of a lifetime. “I love it! She’s perfect!” Wait, what? My brain had no end of difficulty processing the words that had burst forth from my father’s lips. “She’s exactly what you’ve been needing for years: a spine! With any luck, she’ll wind up a positive influence on you.” Turning again to face Anna Lee, he continued. “Welcome to the family, homewrecker!” With this, he embraced her warmly. Anna Lee beamed and directed her gaze toward me, raising a brow as if to brag of her achievement.
“Oh, isn’t this wonderful,” commented my mother. Apparently, she approved. Meanwhile, it took another day or so for my shock to wear off. My parents insisted our stay last through the entire week. At Anna Lee’s further insistence, it did.
***
Anna Lee and I have now been married for six years, and from year one, she makes certain that not one goes by without another visit to my parents. Each visit, she brings my mother a thick pad of fine stationary, and a bottle of ink to go along with the nice fountain pen she gifted my mother with on our second visit together. Sure enough, my mother doesn’t speak much, but writes up a storm. For my father, Anna Lee brings a very large bottle of Jose Cuervo accompanied by a container of Margarita mix. He insists we all share it to completion at every visit. This, of course, sees both my father and wife at their finest, and makes every holiday a raucous affair, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Well... maybe I’d still trade my parents.

[Anne Westlund]

This is an enjoyable story, Charles. I realize you were constrained by the 1000 word limit, if you chose to expand on the story I would like to see more conflict in this story and not so easily resolved. But maybe you weren't looking for a critique! :) It's cohesive and well-written. I like the epilogue. I especially liked this line, "I just couldn’t help but notice your sex-offender ‘stache.”

[Charles Jones]

I wasn't so much looking for a critique, but I'm extremely happy to have received one! This story is one I hope to expand upon in the foreseeable future, so getting thoughts, comments, critiques, etc on it is absolutely invaluable. Thank you!