when stanley finally found the front door, he could not stand the amount of adults watching him. for the first time in his life, he thought he understood why richie smoked so often.
"stan!" some uncle shouted his name, but he wasn't sure he could handle talking to any other person except richie or betty, so he kept moving.
stanley found the bottom of the patio and paused, hearing betty's voice from around the corner of the building. he listened closely, looking for any kind of tone.
"are you sure?" she was talking to someone, stanley wasn't sure who.
"yes. i promise you, stanley's a good dude, and he likes you. abigail is a fuckin' weirdo. i wouldn't cover for him, betts. he wouldn't do that to you." the other voice was richie's. it was richie's? richie was defending him.
"he... he's right, betty. i like you. she was coming onto me and i really didn't want it." stanley turned the corner, and betty looked at him, one eyebrow piqued. she smiled sadly.
"yeah, i..." she thought for a moment, "richie, can we have a moment?" richie nodded and walked around the corner, leaving stanley and betty alone.
"i'm sorry. today's been a nightmare." stanley started, taking betty's hands in his. betty sighed.
"look, stan, i don't... i don't know how to say this." betty squeezed his hands, and stanley (despite knowing) could not believe what was about to happen. she inhaled, "i want to break up. it's not because of this, your... your close family is really nice. your extended family is... fucking weird, but i guess they all are, so i can't say much. i just... i know it hasn't been long, but... i don't want to do this anymore"
stanley was mildly relieved. he wasn't sure why. maybe it was because their relationship lasted just a bit over two months. maybe it was because stanley wasn't sober when they got together, but he just wasn't concerned about it.
"oh. okay." that was all stanley had to say. "i... i can ask my mom if we can go now, if you want." stanley tapped one of his feet on the ground, and she nodded meekly.
stanley began his walk back into the house, and bumped into several people, moving as fast as he could. he made it into the house and got stopped by an uncle.
"stanley! oh-ho-ho do you have a nice girlfriend yet?" he asked, stanley mentally rolling his eyes and backing up.
"sorry, i, i can't do this right now." stanley backed up too far and a glass vase stacked on top of books fell to the ground. the glass shattered, causing everyone stopping to look at stanley. stanley froze, his hands shaking.
his mom hurried over, "stanley, oh my god, matok, are you okay?"
stanley kneeled onto the ground silently, sweeping up the glass with his hands. he tried to put it into a pile, and his mom told him to stop. he kept doing it, feeling tranced.
richie walked over from somewhere else, and leaned down with him. richie tried to pick up the copies of the torah on the floor, but stanley tore them out his hands. stanley kissed one and put it on the mantel, and did the same to the rest.
"everyone's a looker, go mind your business, someone get a broom, though," andrea said to the family onlooking. she looked back to stanley, who had started crying. stanley's dad was nowhere to be found.
"staniel, listen, it's okay, we can leave now, alright? we'll get you out of here," richie said, tidying up everything aside from the glass. stanley shifted back, crying more, and richie wrapped one of his arms around him.
"yes, yes, listen sweetheart, you two can help bahula to the car with her food, and then we'll go." andrea soothed stanley, who nodded and slowly stood up.
-
five minutes later, stanley and richie were standing beside bahula's car. tear tracks were still drying on stanley's face. bahula was hobbling as she placed the trays in her trunk, and finally made it around to the driver's seat.
"does she have her license?" richie muttered, stanley shaking his head.
"i'm pretty sure it's expired. not our problem," stanley shrugged, "need any more help?" he asked louder.
"no, no, thank you boys," bahula replied, getting into the car.
the two began walking back down the sidewalk to stanley's car.
well, car wasn't quite the right word. it was more of a van. that van was the reason stanley was not allowed to learn how to drive (according to his family. richie thought different). it fit around seven people, but even that was a stretch.
"richie, where have you been?" richie's mother came up to him, his dad trailing behind.
"we were helping bahula, mom," richie explained, his dad lightly smacking him up the face.
"we didn't tell you to do that, now c'mon, we need a ride, richie," his dad said, moving his hand down to the shoulder.
"oh, you need a ride? we can drive you!" stanley's father bellowed, stanley wincing.
"that would be wonderful, thank you," maggie said, now 6 of them standing in front of the van.
betty approached from behind andrea, and stanley and her made uncomfortable eye contact. richie glanced at the two of them weirdly, and stanley mouthed, "we broke up".
richie made an 'o' with his mouth and nodded.
"don, honey, we're also driving hana," andrea reminded her husband quietly, stanley sighing louder.
"that's okay! no man left behind! or woman!" donald exclaimed.
and it was through that that eight people clamoured into the seven person van.
they decided on 'small ones' in the back, putting richie, stanley, and betty in two seats. it was not great to begin with, but stanley almost passed out when his dad stated, "you and betty can sit on one seat, right? sit right on top of him, betty!" clearly, she did not do that, and the three just sort of squished together.
in the middle went aunt hana, maggie, and wentworth. the three fit evenly across the three seats, but stanley would be lying if he didn't feel incredibly bad for betty, sitting directly behind the woman who had been remotely racist towards her.
finally, andrea sat in the passenger seat, sighing herself as much as stanley did. he decided that she was probably where he got that from. donald pushed himself into the front seat, and after a couple first terrifying tries, the van started.
as they drove, everyone in the van except for the back three where talking, each louder than the other. stanley leaned his head back, sighing in exasperation. there were the maternal genes.
richie looked over at stanley, and briefly at betty.
as an act of comfort, richie bumped stanley's hand with his own. stanley looked at richie, and richie looked away, out of the window. cautiously, stanley moved one of his pinkies over richie's. stanley looked forward.
richie's hand moved closer to stanley's, and flipped over. slowly but surely, their hands intertwined. richie finally turned his head back to stanley. stanley didn't look up. a small smile appeared on richie's face.
