Uncomfortable with the in-laws?

Amanda was in a familiar part of town, yet every few blocks, as she drove, she found that she had to stop to check the road map. The directions seemed slippery; she couldn’t hold them in her head beyond the next turn, and so pulled over every couple of minutes to reconfirm she was heading in the right direction. The overhead light had a loose connection and flickered, and, having forgotten her glasses, the process of reading the directory was arduous. She knocked it with her knuckle to try to make it stay on.

“Shit!”

She had missed the last turn off, and it was several blocks before she would be able to make a u-turn and head back. She gripped the steering wheel purposefully, checked her side mirror, and pulled away from the gutter into the traffic. Her mouth was dry and a vague headache threatened. She glanced at the steering wheel, noticed her hands. She thought fleetingly that she might not recognise these hands if she saw them in a photo.

Having reluctantly agreed to meet Frank’s parents tonight, she was determined to show up, but she had not been to Old Calcutta before. In fact, she had never even dined on Indian food –always imagining it too fiery and unsettling for her stomach. A car closed-in behind her and flashed its high beams– the reflection momentarily blinding her through the rear view mirror. The same car then pulled into the right lane to over take her, the irate driver blasting his horn and staring her down, shaking his head as he passed. She was not aware of what she had done wrong. She took a breath and stared straight ahead. Things were not going well already.

She arrived fifteen minutes late. Mr and Mrs Scott were already seated and reading the menu. Mr Scott looked up over menu, and his bi-focal glasses, and waved her close. Frank was nowhere.

“Come over Amanda. Sit down.” He was beckoning with his hand, gesturing for her to approach and nodding encouragingly. As she walked towards them, she caught her reflection in a large mirror. Her brown eyes looked bright but her eyeliner had smudged and she had forgotten lipstick.
“Hi Mr Scott.” Then looking at his wife. “Mrs Scott.” Amanda smiled a nervous smile. She had only met these people once.
“Good evening Amanda. How are you my dear?” Mrs Scott spoke slower than most, with a heavily accented English brogue, and it took Amanda off guard. She felt somehow inadequate in the face of it.
“I’m well thank you Mrs Scott. How are you?” She said this as she pulled out a heavy wooden carved chair, and proceeded to sit down. As she did, the hem of her skirt caught under the leg and she had to fidget and untangle herself from her clothes and the chair before she could sit comfortably. It was inelegant and she blushed. In the corner of her eye, she thought she saw them exchange a disapproving glance – Mrs Scott’s eyes rolling briefly.

“Please Amanda, call us Pamela, and Edward.” That’s a faux velvet smile on her face Amanda thought. “Frank called. He is going to be late. He said we should go ahead and order without him.”
“Oh” Amanda felt blush of disappointment cross her face. She hoped they did not see it.
“We’re not that scary Amanda.” Mr Scott was leaning forward now, patting her hand. Amanda could see hairs protruding from his nostrils;  his pate shiny in the candle light.
“Well, you will have to help me Mr Scott.. I mean Edward. I’ve not had Indian food before.”
“Just leave it to us Amanda. Anything you don’t eat?” At that, Amanda shut her menu.
“No. You go ahead.” She looked around the restaurant now. Noticed the golden framed mirrors, the heavy mustard coloured fabrics adorning the walls, the elephant motifs embossed into the menu cover.
“We lived in India for many years you know.”
“Really? No I didn’t know that. Was Frank there with you?”
“He was a small boy.”

The waiter approached with a jug of water.

“Tell us Amanda.” Mrs Scott was imploring her suddenly. “Are you serious about Frank?” Amanda looked from Mrs Scott to Mr Scott, shocked at the question, which came without warning.
“Well, umm.”  She looked back from Mr Scott to Mrs Scott, her eyes lingering on Mr Scott as she turned her head “We’ve been dating a while. So I guess so.” Silence. “Why do you ask?” She could feel the weight of her long skirt suddenly become heavier; her senses heightened and suddenly more aware of her surroundings.
“He does not tell us much.”
“Oh I see.” Amanda looked around the restaurant. “Did Frank say what time he was coming?”
“Not long dear.” The Scott’s looked at each other again, the smallest of nods passing between them.
“Excuse me please. I have to use the bathroom.” Amanda attempted to slide the heavy chair backwards and stand up. As she did, it scraped on the wooden floor, screeching. The restaurant fell silent, all faces turned towards her. The Scott’s sneered, mocking her.


NOW I AM STUCK! ANY ONE GOT ANY IDEAS PLEASE ???  

871 words