Find You in the Dark

laptop. He was dressed casually in black slacks and a blue button down shirt. Though his clothes probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
    Clay was the spitting image of his father. Looking at Mr. Reed was like getting a glimpse of Clay thirty years into the future. Mr. Reed was a good looking man with dark hair, dusted with gray. The skin around his eyes was just now starting to show signs of crow's feet. He appeared very stiff, his face a complete blank as he read the screen in front of him.
    Clay's mother was trying to work the ancient coffee maker on the counter. She was decked out in a gray pencil skirt, ruffled blouse and heels. Her red hair, the exact same shade as her sister Ruby, was swept back from her face in a severe bun.
    Clay cleared his throat. His dad didn't acknowledge him, but his mother turned to look with what seemed to be a fake smile on her perfect lips. Her eyes were a bright blue and icy cold. “Well, there's my baby boy.” She cooed, but made no move to hug or kiss him. Clay's eyes were fixed on his father, who still hadn't taken his eyes from his computer.
    God, Clay was right when he described them as cold and loveless. I couldn't imagine growing up with this couple as my parents. And I felt the guilt again as I thought of my own warm and loving parents who, in all of their over protectiveness, just wanted what was best for me.
    “Coffee?” Mrs. Reed asked, after finding the filters and grounds. Clay and I shook our heads. “Why are you here?” Clay demanded, getting straight to the point. I cringed, not feeling comfortable being privy to this familial exchange. His fingers clenched mine so tightly it was cutting off the circulation.
    “We wanted to see you, Clay. To make sure everything was the way it should be.” His mother said frostily. Her eyes moved to our joined hands and she looked me over appraisingly. “And this is...?” Mrs. Reed looked at me pointedly.
    Clay stood up straight. “This is my girlfriend, Maggie Young.” He told her, his voice hard. I stuck my free hand out in an attempt at civility, though Mrs. Reed had made no such motion toward me. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Reed.” She looked down at my outstretched hand and then back at my face. She looked at me with suspicion for a moment, but the expression vanished and was replaced with her practiced fake politeness. She took my hand in hers and gave it a firm shake. “And you, Maggie. This is Clayton's father, Nickolas. Nick, say hello.” She commanded, as though her husband were a child.
    Nick Reed finally lifted his eyes from his laptop. His gaze slid over me, head to toe as if assessing a horse, never making eye contact, then he returning to his work. “Hello.” He said with disinterest. Clay stiffened beside me at his father's rudeness.
    This was becoming increasingly more awkward as the silence stretched on. “Girlfriend? Well, isn't that...nice.” Mrs. Reed commented, though her tone registered distaste. “So, you're just stopping by, right? I mean, you can see everything's fine here.” Clay said. He was becoming increasingly more agitated, if that was possible. I squeezed his hand to try and help him calm down.
    His mother looked at him, making it clear she didn't believe his assertion that everything was okay. “ Is everything fine Clayton? I think that has yet to be determined.” What a bitch! It was as though wanted something to be wrong with Clay. Mrs. Reed poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, crossing her legs.
    Watching Clay and I levelly with icy eyes, she sipped her drink. I felt like a bug under a magnifying glass being analyzed. I tried not to squirm beneath her steely gaze. “I'm not sure how long we'll be staying. We're staying at the Hyatt in Rockbridge. Your father is assisting on a case in Charlottesville. A high profile case that's getting a lot of national attention. I decided to come along to visit and to make sure you are fine .” She said condescendingly.
    Clay's lip curled upward in a sneer. “I assure you, mother , that I've managed all right without you. Wouldn't want you to put yourself out or anything.” The bitterness in his voice made me sad for him. I could see how much he really wanted these people to love him. And I could see just as clearly how completely unable his parents were to truly love him the way he needed. Or at all.
    No wonder he clung to me the way he did. The poor, lost boy beside me had never known unconditional love