Old Family Traditions

I pointedly tried to ignore my flipping stomach, and walked as naturally as I could into my house. We, thankfully, reached a break in the music at that exact moment, so it was relatively quiet when we turned the corner, and there, in my kitchen, was Mike himself, blithely grinding up a spice rub for the steaks I was holding. Or rather that's what he had been doing. Then, he looked up and began to smile at me. . . and saw Blakeney.

I freely admit that I cringed. Painfully.

"H-hey, Mike," I said, shakily, setting down my bag of groceries and pointing vaguely behind me, "Say, do you remember that room I said I was going to rent out? Well, this is Percy Blakeney, and he's going to rent it." A very weak smile plastered itself across my face.

Mike isn't one for temper, or raised voices, or arguments of any kind, really. He silently washed his hands, wiped them, and solemnly pointed upstairs.

I really had no choice but to go with him.

Without a word he led me to my bedroom, then gently closed the door behind us.

"Okay, Sarah," he said sternly, his hands on his hips, "What's going on?"

I sighed, "Ummmm. . ."

"You said you "picked up a problem" earlier. You mean to tell me that problem is a person?"

I didn't blame Mike for being upset. . . but oh, this was going to be one doozy to explain. . .

"Right," I said, very briskly, "Sit down, and I'll give it to you straight."

He perched himself on the corner of my bed, and crossed his arms. "Please, start at the beginning."

And I did. I started with the BART station and told Mike everything that had happened since. From explaining cell phones to selling gold coins, I didn't leave anything out. I even retrieved the book from my desk and showed it to him. He didn't laugh.

"And yes, it's impossible, but can't we forget about that part?" I said, finishing up my defense of the situation, "Who would we be if we refused a man proper food and shelter, and, do let's be truthful here, he's not the usual sort of vagrant."

"No, he's not," Mike sighed and flipped the book onto my bed. "But I, for one, can't see how bringing home a normal vagrant could be worse. You decide to rent out the guest room - to a man you barely know - without so much as telling me first, when you said you were going to give living with me a chance, and you buy him clothes and food in exchange for two-hundred year old gold coins it is impossible for him to have obtained legally. And he's down there, right now, with our food. A crazy man has access to our food, Sauro."

I smiled to hear my nickname. I had been slightly obsessed with dinosaurs for many years, even to the point of seriously considering paleontology as a career. My father used to call me "his little Sauropod", only half jokingly, and the name stuck. Hearing the name again now, in this context, and hearing Mike say it, made me smile. But it was a painful smile.

All my family's traditions, like this weekly BBQ at my house, had included Mike for years. And I knew - I knew - that this whole situation with Blakeney interrupting that. Mike was big on family traditions, and strangers. . . well. . . strangers were very carefully vetted before they were ever let into Mike's family.

"He's not crazy, hon." I put my hands on his shoulders, and leaned down a bit to give him a little nose-kiss. "The situation is, but he isn't. He's out of place, out of time, and occasionally out of patience, but he's not out of his mind. And he did swoop in to rescue me from those gang-boys." I giggled a little. "You should have seen him. Please, can you trust me? Come down and really meet him. Talk to him. He'll convince you way better than I can."

Finally, his arms went around me, holding me in place. He sighed again, deeper this time. "I'll. . . give him a chance. But at this point I'm far more interested in making sure you're safe, than caring whether or not he's safe. Fair?"

I angled my head for a real kiss. "Fair."

At last, his mouth slanted warmly across mine, and we took a few minutes to engage in the most ancient of traditions before we could bring ourselves to go back downstairs.