Sandra peered into the oven. The meatloaf was coming along nicely. And the mashed potatoes were done. And the vegetables. Everything was simple. She didn't want this to seem like a big deal. It was just Claude. Just a normal little dinner like they used to have. Well, yes, she'd sent the kids off with some money to go to the movies, but... Well,
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He parks the rental and gets out, looking around for a moment or two -- and he's actually rented a car for this trip, because it's nearly impossible to get around in California without one. That, and if things should go bad in any way, he's not trapped waiting for a cab, which would be a bit on the lame side.
Then he walks up the path to the door, rings the bell and waits, trying not to feel anxious. He takes a deep breath and steps on the urge to go invisible despite feeling like every eye in the neighborhood is trained on him.
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He opened it slowly and smiled. "Hey," he said softly, gesturing for Claude to step inside.
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