1
His boots crunched the sidewalk grit as he made his way along. Could have called a cab…the old man had said he'd pay for it after all. Could have tried transit, though the schedules may have changed over the years, not that he often traveled that way.
It was the longest distance he'd walked in a straight line in a very, very long time. It felt strange being in normal clothes. Being out, 'free.' He'd even seen a child on the way. Forgot that humans could be that small...
Chris paused at the front door of his old home, and somehow could just sense that there were people inside who had heard him mount the front deck and was about to come in.
Just get it done and over with, like a Band-Aid. Hopefully... things will become less awkward in time... hopefully.
He gripped the knob and turned, swinging the door out, and saw the three inside all sitting at the dining room table.
Rick, his father, stood up. His face stern, he put his hand on his wife's shoulder.
He had more gray in his hair than he remembered, and it was the first time he'd laid eyes on his new mother-in-law. Pretty blonde hair, she wore a sky-blue gown. Either she customarily dressed up quite nice on a daily basis, or she had put something fancy on for the occasion. She had glanced nervously at her husband, who looked so stern as he stared at the man at the door, but still smiled at her step-son as best she could when her attention returned to him.
Her daughter, if anything an even more vibrant blonde, small and meek with her hair pulled back in a pony tail. Her eyes had flashed at him as soon as his outline came into view. After that, she struggled to even look at him. Big... intimidating. She dressed more casually than her mom…red shirt and overalls. Pleasant summerwear.
Chris kept his focus primarily on his old man, wearing a business suit as usual.
"You're going to get a resume done up immediately," he stated frankly, walking forth as he held his son's eye. "You will hand them out liberally, attend any and all interviews that come your way, and take the first job that comes. I don't care if it's dishwashing, you understand?" Rick came to within arm's reach of his towering son and showed no fear as he stuck one singular finger up near his face. "One year. You got that? Up to one year, and then you're out." The finger whipped past the recently released prisoner, gesturing to the sunny street behind him. "Get on your own two feet, or lie down on the street. You got one year."
Christopher listened keenly, his lips pursed, eyebrows low, and gave one singular nod as he unblinkingly and intensely returned his father's eye-contact.
"Good. Now I need to get back towork,"Rick stressed, and stepped aside, waiting for his good-for-nothing son to get out of the doorway. He stared up at him as he passed by. "You'll be nothing short of respectable and polite to your step-mother and step-sister, or that one year is gonna endrealquick, you hear me?"
"I hear you," he replied simply, and observed as his step-mom's plastered-on smile faltered as he approached the two at the table. "Hi. I'm Chris."
"One year!" Rick called, hating to leave his family alone with that criminal. "It's time you got your act together!"
He didn't turn to the door, simply heard it rather loudly close, and some muffled grunts and grumbles from the other side as next came a car door slam followed by its engine revving up.
They were left in silence.
"H-hello, Chris. It's nice to... finally meet you. I'm Nancy, and this is my daughter." She gestured over to her teenaged little girl. "Julie."
"Nancy. Julie." He nodded to the both of them. "Nice to meet you too." He replied flatly. A visit while he was locked up may have helped, but then again, would that make for the best first impression? Perhaps not...
He turned to the kitchen counter and approached, checked some cupboards. He'd have to re-familiarize himself with where everything is. He grabbed a cup and started filling it with tap water.
"O-oh, uh, we have a pitcher in the fridge. If you'd like some good, clean water."
He was already drinking some of what was in his cup as he turned to her. Then turned to the fridge.
"Alright. Thanks." He dumped the tap water and clunked his glass on the counter, then swung out the fridge door.
Julie's eyes glanced between him and his mom. Her brows bounced as she widened her eyes, pointedly looking from her mom's gaze to herself and then to Chris as she gave a nod in his direction.
Her mother gave a nod in return at her wide-eyed glance to the man… certainly a big guy, and... seemingly not one for words. She gave a shrug as he poured water into his glass. A denim vest and a black t-shirt underneath, he had black tattoos on his arms and worn blue jeans to match the vest.
Was that... what he was wearing when he was arrested all those years ago?
"Are you hungry? There's some lasagna on the stove. I asked your father what you liked and he said-"
"Thank you," Chris replied. "Not at the moment. I just... need a bit of time." He put his emptied glass on the counter again, his free hand gesturing towards the woman, and motioned his open hand downwards a few times.
"It must be... quite something. Being out again."
"Mmh." He nodded. "Got some stuff I have to do, too..." He looked over to the front door.