{Ch. 21} Mac 'N Cheese ✓

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Ignatius William Koehl had tanned beneath the unrelenting rays of sunshine. His cheeks pinked too.

When he sidled up beside me after work on Friday, he flung his arm about my shoulder. Well, initially my elbow, but he managed to wrap about my shoulders on his second try.

"Because you planned the lovely petting zoo date—"

"Do I detect sarcasm?"

"Always." He smirked at me. "Anyway, I believe it's my turn. So, what do you say to meeting my family tomorrow?"

I froze, spluttering. "What? Your family? Already?"

He removed his arm from about me, a frown on his face. "What? I've already met yours though. We weren't even dating then."

"Yeah, and now we are. Meeting family in this circumstance is awkward."

He crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge. "It's going to be just as awkward tomorrow as it'll be in the future if you push it off."

My lips pursed. "I suppose you're right."

"My family's nice, angel-cakes. They raised me, after all."

"That's why I'm worried."

"Hey." He wrapped his arm about me once more. "Whaddya say? Will you meet my family tomorrow?"

I released a slow breath, then nodded. "Okay. Let's do it!" I pumped an arm in the air, and Iggy laughed.

__________ __________

His shoulders lingered near his ears as he guided me to the front door of a single-story, gray-toned house. A giant tree with a swing hanging from a branch sat out front, blocking the front bay window. The gray front door tucked beneath an awning, and when we approached, Iggy took out a key and inserted it into the lock like he had done it a million times.

In front of me lay the living room, with a black leather couch and two matching recliners, a small table between the couch and a chair, and another bigger coffee table before the couch. A TV mounted on the wall straight ahead, an entertainment system as broad as the wall with game console controllers in almost all the cubbies. Beside the living room was a hallway—I could make out the sunlight streaming in from what I assumed to be windows.

To my right was the family room with the bay window. Chairs arranged in a circle, and tucked in the corner sat a blank canvas and easel. Plants decorated the windowsill, a dash of green in an otherwise white room.

On the left were the kitchen and dining room. The kitchen wrapped around the edge, the sink beneath another window that peered into the side yard. The dining room had another window, with more plants on the sill and a round table with chairs. Beyond the dining room appeared to be some bedrooms and bathrooms.

The lack of pictures struck me. From here, in the foyer, I could count five photos: a family portrait in the family room, three framed pictures of three boys in graduation garb above the TV, and a final photo of Iggy's parents' wedding on a bookshelf in the dining room.

However, white squares, varying in size, decorated the walls. I squinted, trying to make out something in the bumpy canvases. I kept my mouth shut despite my intense desire to ask what they were.

Iggy dropped my hand and stepped toward the family room. Arms out, face lightly flushed, he said, "Casa de los Koehls. What d'ya think?" He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

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