Getting to Know the Kids: Be Their Friends Part (2)
That moment in the theater meeting Dad’s girlfriend for the first time came back to me, and I felt sick. What did his kids have in store for me? Would they try to embarrass me in front of their father? Would they hate me? Would we get along? It took thirty-five minutes to drive out to his house from my apartment in the city, and it was like driving from one country to another.
The skyscrapers gave way to shopping malls and newly developed neighborhoods. I even drove past a few farms with grazing horses and cows. When I pulled into the driveway, I had to take deep breaths to center and calm myself. I saw chalk drawings and discarded bikes on the pavement in front of the three-car garage.
When I looked down at my hands, they were shaking. I felt as if I was walking into an interview by committee for the biggest job of my life. When I entered the house, they were all sitting at the kitchen counter in a row eating lunch. “This is my friend, Jacque,” Arne said. He introduced his two daughters and his son, ages 3, 5, and 8, and I managed a twitchy smile. I think I said, “Hey, guys,” or something equally cool and noncommittal. Immediately lunch was forgotten, and they jumped up to gather around me.
I was surrounded by a gang of attention-seeking humans all anxious to show me their rooms, their favorite toys, their latest drawings. It appeared they were not armed with a whoopee cushion, handshake buzzer, or can of slime to throw at me. After several hours spent playing together at a nearby park, we sat down to dinner.
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