Nicholas D. Wolfwood (wolfwood) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-12-13 00:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, bella donna boudreaux, nicholas d. wolfwood |
Who: Bella Donna Boudreaux & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, with Wolfwood's mom
What: Thanksgiving at the Wolfwoods'!
Where: Mrs. Wolfwood's house in San Diego
When: Thanksgiving Day
Rating: PG, no real warnings
Status: Complete!
Belle was nervous as they pulled up to Nicholas’s mom’s house. From everything he’d said his mother was a sweet lady, and Belle was sure she’d like Mrs. Wolfwood. She was more nervous about the opposite being true. She still wasn’t sure she was good long term dating material. She just hoped that wouldn’t become obvious over the course of the dinner. It would hurt to let anything come between her and Nicholas.
She was dressed very conservatively. The weather was beautiful, which made her pants, sweater, and blouse with all but the topmost button done up a little more uncomfortable than it already was. She was used to wearing a lot less clothing.
Still, she was doing her best to smile. This was a big step for their relationship, and lended it even more legitimacy. After seeing Vanille and Fang get married she’d wondered what it would be like to settle down someday.
Wolfwood found it incredibly cute that Belle was so nervous about meeting his mom, though she’d probably smack him if he teased her too much. It made him feel good, a bit - she obviously wanted it to go well. He squeezed her hand as they headed up to the door, his other hand clutching a bag with a few bottles of wine. “You can take the sweater off inside, I’m pretty sure,” he told her, smiling. “I swear, she doesn’t expect you to be a nun. Neither do I.”
Belle giggled a little. “I just wanna look nice.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “I know she’s important to you, so I want her to like me.” She knocked on the door with her free hand, since Nicholas’s was occupied. Her hand clutched his tightly, though she didn’t let her nervousness show in her expression.
“I’m not worried.” Wolfwood knew his mom, and his mom knew his type. She might tease him, not Belle.
After a minute or so, his mother pulled the door open and smiled at her son. “Nicholas! And you must be Bella Donna.” She gestured for them both to come in, helping with shoes and handbags until she heard a loud beep. “Stove!” she called over her shoulder, running to handle the problem.
Wolfwood had to smile. “Same Mom.”
Belle smiled cheerfully, until Nicholas’s mom bolted off to attend to the food. She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Awww, she seems sweet.” She grinned at Nicholas and trailed behind. “You need a hand, Mrs. Wolfwood?”
“Oh, no. Just forgot the alarm.” Mrs. Wolfwood called cheerfully. “Set yourselves down in the family room, if you’d like. Nicholas, go get the wineglasses, though, please. I’m sure you need a drink after the drive.”
Belle nodded and followed Wolfwood, looking around the house as they traveled through it. “Your home is lovely.”
“Thank you! We moved here when Nicholas was fourteen. Something happened to our old home, but I like it here. Mr. Wolfwood passed a few years back, but I do have my P.M. for company.” A large mottled grey cat was sunning itself in the window of the spare bedroom, which made Wolfwood grin.
He told Belle with amusement, “P.M. stands for Proud Mary.”
“Yes, it does. She’s a lively girl. Bella Donna, do you take wine? Or is there something else I ought to call you? I’m so sorry, not everyone likes their first name.”
“Belle’s fine.” She said with a smile. The fact that their cat was named Proud Mary made her like Mrs. Wolfwood even more. “I definitely like wine, would you prefer we open a red or white first?”
“Red is my preference, but please, if you like white, go ahead.” Mrs. Wolfwood opened the stove door and sighed contentedly. “Oh, thank heaven. I’d have cried if the turkey was overdone.”
“It’s okay.” Wolfwood stood close, kissing his mom on the cheek. If the turkey had been overdone, they’d have had to go out and get their own, as his mother had trouble leaving the house on the best of days, never mind Thanksgiving. He’d wanted to come down to be with her; Belle had been a surprise perk.
Belle looked through the bottles and found a nice red wine, watching as Nicholas and his mom interacted. They were cute. It didn’t surprise her that Nicholas was nice to his mom. “Red’s fine with me. It’s got more flavor.” She tucked her pocket knife back into her pocket and waited for the wine glasses. “You like it here? I’ve never been t’ San Diego before.”
“I do - Mr. Wolfwood was born here, and so was Nicholas, as he’s probably told you.” Mrs. Wolfwood carefully began to pull the bird out of the oven. “I grew up in southern Texas, so I’m used to heat. It isn’t so awfully humid here, though. Nicholas, can you close that door? Thank you.” She smiled at Belle. “Nicholas, of course, is used to heat - I imagine all that time in the desert has him praying for snow! Are you a soldier yourself?”
“I’m from Louisiana originally. It’s nice being able to breathe.” She smiled and took the bottle of wine to the dining room, setting it on the table. “I’m not a soldier, no. I’m a personal assistant and security advisor for Winston Frost.”
“That sounds important! I hope he treats you well. I’m not familiar with him, but I do hope that he isn’t competition for Nicholas.” Mrs. Wolfwood chuckled.
“No, he’s older and married, Mom.” Wolfwood laughed a little as well. He was fairly sure Belle’s brain was screaming inwardly at the thought. “I’ve been doing security work for the same company, actually.”
“Is that how you met?”
“Yep. She interviewed me.” Wolfwood smiled over at her. “Apparently she thought I was a good catch.”
“You just had all the qualities I was looking for, and a bunch I didn’t know I wanted until then.” Belle said, smiling sweetly at him. She was ignoring the idea that she might be interested in sleeping with Winston. If she had to chose one man who could be her father to sleep with it would probably be him, but she prefered their relationship remain as it was. “It’s been really nice. Your son’s a real gentleman, Mrs. Wolfwood.”
“So was his father. I’m glad.” The woman smiled, stopping for a moment, clearly thinking of something fond. “And I’ll get it out of him if you’re just making him look good.” She teased, before turning back to the stove. “I think we’re about ready here, if you’d like to sit down, Belle. Nicholas, will you help carve?”
“Sure.” Wolfwood went over to his mother, obediently going to get the carving knife.
Belle nodded and took a seat, doing her best to stay out of the way. “It all looks so good. You musta spent all day on this. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a proper Thanksgiving.”
“We have one every time Nicholas has been on leave over the holiday, but it’s been ... three years, I think? Since then.”
“Yeah, three.” Wolfwood tried not to look as guilty as he felt. Mom had been the one to tell him to re-up more often than not.
“I’m honored to be asked to attend, then.” Belle said with a smile. “I have to admit I’m a little grateful to know that I’ll be able to have him around all the time.” More or less. Shepard wouldn’t keep him away for months.
“He told me he finally was able to retire. I was so happy.” Mrs. Wolfwood looked up at her son fondly. “I can stop worrying about him, and let another woman do it!”
Wolfwood might actually have blushed. “We’re not engaged, Mom.”
“Well, if you break up, then I’ll start worrying about you again,” his mother retorted amiably. “I think that’s enough turkey for the three of us, incidentally. Let’s go sit down; I’ll bring the mashed potatoes.”
Belle chuckled. She was in no rush to get married. “I’ll worry about you as long as our lives’ll let me.” She said, giving him a bright smile. She grabbed the closest dish and headed toward the table.
“I know you’re not, dear.” Mrs. Wolfwood set down the potatoes. “I was mostly poking fun. But good relationships mean you worry about each other. I think it’s part of the package.” She sat down at the head of the table, waiting for Nicholas and Belle to sit as well before starting to pick up plates and wine bottles.
Belle sat gracefully across from Nicholas and waited to see if the others were serving themselves or if Mrs. Wolfwood was serving. She wasn’t sure if they’d say any kind of grace (though what she’d heard of his family life so far made Belle assume they wouldn’t). She didn’t mind keeping her prayers to herself. It was only polite to conform to the expectations of the host.
Wolfwood hesitated, though. “You can say grace if you want, Belle.”
“Oh! Yes. If you’re religious, that’s fine. I was Catholic, but I hate the church nearest to me, and Nicholas was raised secular humanist because we wanted to let him make his own decisions.” Mrs. Wolfwood waited to pick up her fork.
"Oh," Belle thought for a moment. "Well, most of the sentiment's universal. I'm thankful for the wonderful food and good company. That we're all healthy and safe. Think that's stuff we can all agree with." She didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable, but remembering the blessings in her life was what kept her grounded.
“Certainly.” Mrs. Wolfwood smiled. “It’s all right, dear. As long as you don’t push, no one here will be offended.” And she didn’t seem like the sort of woman to push.
Wolfwood couldn’t help but be happy that his mom seemed to like Belle. The two women in the world he thought most highly of were in the same room, and things were okay.
Belle smiled softly. “I’d hope not, anyway.” She was still nervous, but Mrs. Wolfwood seemed really nice, and she was relaxing by degrees.
There was less talking as the food came out. Wolfwood couldn't help but smile between bites, though. "One year maybe Belle and me can cook this for you," he said to his mother. "Belle's a great cook."
"Oh?" Mrs. Wolfwood smiled back. "That's a great skill to have, either alone or in a relationship. Food really is the way to most men's hearts."
Belle chuckled. “I cooked for my brother and father when I was a little girl. I really enjoyed it, felt constructive. Haven’t had many complaints about my cookin’, but maybe I’m just too intimidating.” She grinned at her joke. She didn’t look that scary, or at least she thought she didn’t.
“Every woman is intimidating to a man, unless she’s related to them.” Mrs. Wolfwood teased. “Now please, eat! Drink and be merry.”
Wolfwood obeyed the instruction; he had three helpings of food, and at least that many glasses of wine. He never let himself get shitfaced drunk around his mother, but he definitely wasn’t sober when the meal was done. “Pie?” he managed, making mookie eyes at his mother.
“Of course.” She swatted him, getting up to go into the kitchen.
Belle drank quite a bit of wine, mostly to calm her nerves. She became progressively more silly as dinner wore on, and did eventually ditch her sweater. She ate eagerly. She’d never been one to shy away from a good meal. The prospect of pie was exciting, and she grinned widely. “That’s the best part. I’m a pie addict.”
“Mom’s is totally the best.” Wolfwood promised. “I’ve never had your pie, so I can say that without you hitting me.”
“I do my best.” Mrs. Wolfwood laughed, getting up. “I can’t imagine you have room left, Nicholas!”
Belle smirked and was halfway through the first word of an innuendo when his mom piped up and made her remember not to overtly flirt with him over the table. “I’m sure it’s wonderful, everything else was really amazing.” She grinned and Nicholas across the table and filled their wine glasses again. “You need a hand?”
“Oh, no, thank you. It won’t be a minute.” Mrs. Wolfwood shook her head, going into the kitchen.
Wolfwood took the opportunity to snicker at his girlfriend. “You’re on your way to drunk, Bella Donna.”
“Yep.” She said with a laugh. “All in all I’d say this is goin’ pretty well.” She sipped her wine and reached over to take his hand. “I’m glad, your mom’s really nice.”
“She just wants me to be happy. I know every mom says it but it’s really true.” Wolfwood would have held his hand over his heart, but it wound up somewhere in the middle of his chest. Close enough. “She does like you, though, I can tell. She teases the people she likes.”
“That’s fine with me.” Belle said with a laugh. She wondered if they’d be dating long enough for her to see Mrs. Wolfwood again. It was an interesting question. “Think we’re gonna have t’ stick around for a while when we’re done eating. I sure can’t drive right now.”
“Mom told me she made up the guest room,” Wolfwood said, sitting back in his chair. “We should be okay. And she won’t freak out about there only being one bed. We’re adults.”
“That’s good. I’d be a wreck if I slept on the couch like this.” She was already going to regret the copious wine and food tomorrow (if only a little). “You’re such a sweetheart, cheri. I’m not surprised that even your mom’s super nice.” She smiled at him, enjoying the warmth of partial inebriation and being around the man she loved.
“My parents are great.” Wolfwood had to stifle a yawn. “Mom took it hard when Dad went. But she’s rallying.” He took her hand and kissed it gently, if maybe a little sloppily. “Pie. Then sleep.”
Belle nodded. “Yep. Not sure I can move enough for anything scandalous, anyway.” She was starting to really feel the effects of all the food and wine.
Mrs. Wolfwood came back in with one perfectly cooked pumpkin pie. “I almost had a heart attack making sure this thing came out alright, so I really have to beg that you eat a little.”
“No begging needed, Mom.” Wolfwood smiled. “At least not for me.”
“Oh no, I love pumpkin pie.” Belle said with a laugh. “It’s my favorite.” She sipped her wine while she waited for her turn to get a piece of pie.
Mrs. Wolfwood started them both off with a small piece, just in case. “Enjoy, then. There aren’t that many leftovers; I should invite Nicholas every year, no matter where he’s coming from.”
Belle laughed. “I bet you don’t miss tryin’ t’ feed him every day.” She said, grinning at Mrs. Wolfwood. “Especially if it’s been an active day. I learned real quick to make more food than I think I need.”
The woman laughed delightedly. “It’s true! He’s always been a healthy eater, even as a baby.”
“And look how I turned out,” Wolfwood interjected. He was too un-sober to care about talk of his childhood.
“Big, strong and handsome,” his mother said, still grinning. “I’m glad our grocery bills were worth it. You’ll have to help him stay in shape now, Belle, since he’s not on active duty.” Her eyes were fond.
Belle chuckled. “You don’t hafta worry, I’ve made it my job t’ keep him on his toes.” She smiled warmly at Nicholas. Their time together, whether it was in the bedroom or at the gym, was something she cherished.
“I’m glad he’s got someone like you.” Mrs. Wolfwood said quietly, still smiling. She left the room to get the coffee pot, and Wolfwood looked over at Belle. He said something which might have been I love you, or it might have been nothing. A few minutes later, his eyes closed, and he was fast asleep.