Edgar stood slowly, brushing nonexistent crumbs from his slacks.
“You two don’t worry about cleanup tonight,” he said, nodding warmly to his parents. “I’ll take care of it later.”
He collected the used plates—his, Nicole’s, and the still-full ones across the table—and stacked them gently in the sink, careful not to clink them too loudly. His father hated that.
He turned back toward the dining room. “Don’t stay up too late, okay? Early morning tomorrow.”
They didn’t respond, of course. But he gave a reassuring smile all the same, as if to say I’ve got it handled.
Nicole was already halfway down the hall. He caught up to her, matching her pace.
“I figured you’d be tired,” he said. “First-time parent meetings are always a lot. I think it went really well, though—don’t you?”
She gave a small smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“My parents are kind of old-fashioned,” he said, almost apologetic. “So we’ll be staying in different rooms tonight.”
He opened the bedroom door and gestured her in first, a little flourish of old-school chivalry. She murmured thanks and walked in, arms wrapped lightly around herself. Edgar flicked on the lamp beside the bed. The light was warm and soft—he’d swapped the bulb weeks ago to avoid that harsh LED glare Nicole didn’t like.
He sat on the edge of the bed, untucking his shirt. “I know they’re a little reserved,” he said gently. “But that’s just how they are at first. Once they get to know you, I think you guys’ll really get along.”
Nicole perched on the far edge of the mattress, stiff as a photo prop. “They seemed…” she started, then trailed off. “It’s just been a long day. Just… tired.”
Edgar nodded. “Totally. Long workday, meeting the folks. High-pressure stuff.”
He smiled at her, eyes warm. “But honestly, you handled it great. Mom was always kind of a stickler for etiquette, and you nailed it. I could tell she liked you.”
Nicole didn’t answer right away.
She was staring at the nightstand, where a ceramic mug with a faded green university seal sat.
Edgar followed her gaze. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “That’s Dad’s. He always forgets to take it with him.”
He stood and crossed the room, moving the mug to the dresser.
“If you think of anything else you need, I’m just across the hall,” he said. “I’ll leave the light on. Bathroom’s at the end, linens are in the closet.”
Nicole nodded, then paused. “Um… do you happen to have Wi-Fi or anything?” she asked softly. “I didn’t see one show up on my phone.”
“Oh, no, we never set that up,” Edgar said, not missing a beat. “But if you need to check email or anything, there’s a computer in the study downstairs. Just let me know.”
Nicole nodded again. Quiet. Distant.
He frowned slightly. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” she said quickly. “I think I just need to lie down.”
Edgar softened. “Okay. Get some rest.”
He stepped out, pulling the door halfway closed behind him.
From the hallway, his voice floated back—low, affectionate. “They really liked you.”