Silence. A long and awkward silence spread around the table while your mum blinked at you with a big smile and confusion in her eyes.

"Huh?", her eyebrows rose as she gave Kyle a questioning look. "What is he talking about?"

Confused, Kyle looked from you to your parents and back to you. You laughed tensely. Cold sweat ran down your back and you wanted to sink into the ground.

"Uhm...", you cleared your throat. "Mum, Kyle is just - he - we..."

He frowned, thinking. Then his eyebrows lifted and realisation lit up the brown.

"Oh... Oh! No, I mean we...", he looked at you, a soft smile on his lips. "We're not there... yet."

Embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck. Completely oblivious to his words, you grabbed your mum by the shoulders and pulled her into the hallway.

"Mum, a word.", you glanced nervously back at Kyle, who was now talking to your father, unaffected. "You can't just assume we're a couple because he tagged along."

She smiled innocently.

"Can't I?", she tilted her head, which was full of the hair you had inherited from her. "You used to be such good friends, I wondered why you never..."

"Mum, Kyle likes women."

She frowned, glanced around you and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Are you sure?", she then asked.

"Mum.", you shook your head.

Shrugging her shoulders, she turned to the kitchen to get the sugar and milk she had forgotten.

"I'm not sure about that, sweetie... He's so... clean cut. Friendly. And he's good with the boys too."

"So was dad?"

She laughed.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'm glad you have good memories of him."

"What..?", you frowned, unable to understand what she was trying to say.

But at that moment it very much felt like she was kinda shit talking the man who had helped raised you into a pretty decent man.

"Oh, well, let's just say he gave me a heart attack once or twice. And almost killed you a couple times but at least you had fun.", she shrugged with a smile. "But seriously, Kyle? I mean he used to be such a skinny boy. So... fragile and girly."

Your eyes narrowed.

"I'm pretty sure that doesn't make him like men, mom. I mean look at me."

"Right. Always so large and now look at you. Taking dick."

"Mom, what the fuck?!", absolutely shocked you threw your hands into the air while trying your best to keep your voice low. "Can we not?"

"Of course.", she let out a sigh, her eyes wandering over to Kyle with a longing expression. "He'd make such a good son-in-law. Stepdad."

With your lips pressed into a thin, passive aggressive line, you grabbed the sugar and milk from her hands and made it very clear that she was not to talk like this in front of him.

Rolling her eyes, she shrugged.

"Whatever you want, sweetie.", she smiled. "But I think you're a little off with your assumption about him."

And with these words, she returned to the table as if nothing had happened.

An hour passed in which you two had to listen to endless stories from the past about how sweet you had been as children and everything else.

Every now and then, your mum tried to make the empty house at the end of the street appealing to you. And even your father seemed very interested in the land that the property contained.

Again and again you tried to stop them from making any plans until your father finally looked at Kyle.

"And you, son?", he asked, sipping his flowery fruit tea, which didn't match his appearance at all.

Ben loved sweet things, whether he could eat them or drink them. His motto used to be that he had fallen in love with your mum because of her sweetness.

And given the fresh bouquet of flowers in the vase on the table, he hadn't given up the tradition of bringing her flowers every week.

Torn from his thoughts, Kyle raised his eyes. He had been staring into his empty cup, transfixed.

"Do you want some more tea?", you asked.

Blinking, he looked at you and smiled.

"I wasn't listening, sorry.", he turned to Ben. "What was the question?"

"Do you want tea.", he replied soberly. "You know, when you're close to someone, you should always look after them first. Even with little things. Especially with little things. That's why my Margret is so impatient. I spoilt her."

He breathed a kiss on your mum's hand.

Kyle's brown eyes fell on the gold wedding band on her finger. Emotions mingled on his face. But as quickly as they had come, they disappeared. You couldn't read them.

"I'll have some more.", he finally said with a smile and pushed his cup towards you. You poured him a drink.

"Dad, we talked about this.", you said with a meaningful twitch of your eyebrows.

Shrugging, he drank his tea.

"I just wanted to give advice.", he mumbled into his cup. "For the future."

"Thank you.", you pressed out between clenched teeth.

"How long have you been married?", Kyle suddenly asked, gesturing at the rings on her fingers.

He probably just wanted to change the subject. And you were grateful for that, because this moment couldn't get any worse.

You felt like you wanted to disappear from the face of the earth. Your father looks thoughtfully at his ring.

"Twenty-four years?", he asked.

Your mum narrowed her eyes.

"Again and again.", she hissed reproachfully. "You can't help it... It's, let me think, thirty-two. Soon to be thirty-three."

Kyle raised his eyebrows, impressed.

"Wow...", he looked at his own fingers. "My parents can't say that about themselves."

He laughed hoarsely.

"We're incredibly sorry about your mum.", Ben assured him.

Kyle sighed.

"It can't be helped.", he cleared his throat. "But it could be worse."

"What about your father?", asked Margret.

"He can go to hell."

She laughed.

"I don't blame you. We were at the wedding. Unbelievable... tasteless. The dress was a disaster! Apart from the fact that the bride could have been your sister."

Kyle snorted.

"Let's not start gossiping.", you threw into the room and put down your empty cup.

Your eyes wandered to the teapot only briefly before you remembered there was no more hot water.

"I'll make you more.", without hesitation Kyle stood up and took the jug with him.

With a satisfied expression, your mum nodded. You just rolled your eyes.

"You're delusional, mum.", you whispered.

Your father grunted.