The nickname did not cause Arthur to recoil, only because the rest of the sentence was enough to keep him in place so Malachi could see his frown.  He’ll be damned if he sits idly by while someone insults Malachi, let alone someone called Miriam.  A tragic name for a tragic woman.

Malachi’s question caught him off guard, though, and Arthur looked away from him in genuine thought.

If it were his family, they would have already decided that they hated Malachi simply because it was Arthur introducing him to them.  They would think him just as bad, if not worse than him.

He was caught between wanting to prove his family right and proving them wrong.  What would be worse?  What would be better?

If Malachi met them, and stooped to his levels of morality and vulgarity, what would it do but reinforce the idea that Arthur was terrible.  On the other hand, if Malachi were a perfect guest and left his family in awe of him, they might wonder how much Arthur was paying him for the evening.

There was only one correct answer then, wasn’t there?

“If it were my family, I would just want you to be yourself,” he said after a long time.  “They don’t deserve to be impressed by you, and they’re in no position to look down on you, so any kind of act for either would be pointless.  As long as you left satisfied with the evening, I would call it a success.”