My Daughter Brought Home a Pale, Tattooed Goth Boy, and My Husband Immediately Told Him to Leave – Then the Boy Placed His Phone on the Table, and My Husband Went Even Paler
MY DAUGHTER HAD NEVER BROUGHT A BOYFRIEND HOME BEFORE, SO I EXPECTED MY HUSBAND TO EMBARRASS HER WITH A FEW OVERPROTECTIVE-DAD JOKES.
I DIDN’T EXPECT HIM TO STAND UP, STARE AT THE PALE, TATTOOED TEENAGER, AND ASK HIM TO LEAVE BEFORE HE HAD EVEN FINISHED SAYING HELLO.
THEN EVAN QUIETLY PLACED AN OLD PHOTOGRAPH ON OUR DINING TABLE.
ONE LOOK AT IT, AND MY HUSBAND’S EXPRESSION COMPLETELY CHANGED.
My daughter Maya was eighteen and extremely private whenever the subject involved boys.
She had dated before, but the moment I showed too much curiosity, names tended to disappear from conversation.
So when my phone buzzed while I was preparing dinner and I saw her message, I nearly dropped the vegetables in my hand.
Bringing Evan over tonight. Please be nice. I really like him.
I smiled.
Then another message arrived.
And please tell Dad to act normal.
That made me laugh.
My husband, Daniel, was sitting at the kitchen table fixing a loose cabinet handle.
“Maya says you’re supposed to behave normally tonight.”
He glanced up.
“That sounds like a lot of pressure.”
“She’s bringing home a boy.”
Daniel stopped turning the screwdriver.
“A boy?”
He gave me a thoughtful look.
“Should I ask for references?”
“Daniel.”
“I’m kidding.”
At least, I hoped he was.
He went back to the cabinet.
“Mark is stopping by later to return my torque wrench. Maybe he can help with the interview.”
I lightly tapped his shoulder.
“Maya will never bring anyone home again if you keep this up.”
Daniel laughed.
Mark and Daniel had known each other since their twenties.
They weren’t especially close anymore.
Sometimes Mark appeared at barbecues.
They exchanged birthday messages.
Occasionally, they borrowed tools from each other.
Their friendship seemed to exist mostly because of history.
I had never thought much about it.
At six thirty, the front door opened.
Maya walked in holding hands with Evan.
My first thought was that he looked nervous.
My second was that I understood why Maya had warned us.
Evan was thin and pale, with dyed black hair that fell almost to his jaw.
His fingernails were painted black.
Dark eyeliner framed his eyes, and tattoos covered part of his left forearm.
He wore black jeans, heavy boots, and an old band shirt.
His appearance was dramatic, but there was something shy about the way he stood beside Maya.
“Mom, Dad, this is Evan.”
I smiled.
“Hi, Evan.”
Daniel didn’t respond.
He simply stared.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Daniel’s eyes widened.
He stood so quickly that his chair shifted behind him.
“No.”
Maya blinked.
“What?”
Daniel looked directly at Evan.
“I think you should leave.”
I laughed at first because I assumed this was another badly timed father joke.
Then I saw Daniel’s face.
He was serious.
“Daniel?”
“I’m sorry, but he needs to go.”
Maya tightened her grip on Evan’s hand.
“Dad, what is wrong with you? You haven’t even talked to him.”
“I know.”
That irritated me.
Daniel had spent years teaching Maya not to judge people based on clothes, hairstyles, tattoos, jobs, or money.
Now he was reacting to Evan before the boy had even had a chance to sit down.
“Daniel, enough.”
He never looked away from Evan.
“Sarah, please. Just trust me.”
