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Ok, I’ve got it.
Josh engages me in chatter all the way, trying to keep the vibe nice and easy, but I’m sure he’s well aware that my stomach is churning, nerves flying wild. It’s dumb, and I know it. I can walk into a proposal and strip bare to perform for a crowd of guys without breaking a sweat, but meeting Josh’s family – that’s another level of stress altogether.
Because I care.
I care so much because I want them to believe I’m the one for him. I want to be the one who lasts for ever. The one they watch walk down the aisle to be at his side.
Stop it.
I have to stop it.
I look out of the window and comment on the scenery because this brain whirring is getting me nowhere. I’ll be fine once we’ve arrived and I’ve said hello – that’s what I tell myself. This is all a big load of stress over nothing. I’ll meet them all one by one around the dinner table, and we’ll be laughing and joking in no time, and then I’ll enjoy my Sunday dinner.
Common sense doesn’t win the battle with my nerves, unfortunately. I’m literally gripping the car seat as we pass the sign for Beaconsfield. Josh’s family home is a farmhouse on the outskirts of town. He turns up a lane and pulls into a parking area next to a big open barn. There are three cars already outside, and Josh points them out to me. Georgia’s, Scott’s and Emma’s. He rolls his eyes as he parks up.
“No Caroline yet. What a surprise. She’s usually late, or bails at the last minute, so you might not even get to meet her today.”
I can hope. I have more than enough of his family members to meet already.
Josh’s parents’ house looks fantastic. It’s a solid red brick country home that must’ve seen better days, sure – but that only adds to the character. The place has a country vibe that’s a stark contrast to the city, and the difference hits me like a tidal wave. I’d forgotten just how quaint and quiet the countryside can be, and I get a pang of homesickness for my own childhood, and my teenage years, when I didn’t really appreciate my surroundings.
I get a montage of sudden memories at the sound of the birds, and the wind through the trees. I remember picking flowers on weekend walks with Mum and Dad when I was tiny – making necklaces with daisies and dandelions. I remember strolling hand in hand with Connor in the summer breeze, his guitar slung over his shoulder until we reached the woods, where we’d sit on our regular bench as he strummed his heart out.
Heather and Phil’s place is a lot more earthy than my parents’ house was. They have long grass and wild flowers around the outside of the lawn, and plenty of bird feeders stocked up with seeds. There are wind spinners in the garden, and I hear the faint ringing of windchimes from over by a cute wooden shed, painted in faded rainbow colours along the side.
“Caroline did that with Mum, before she discovered the wonder of black velvet,” Josh says, when he follows my gaze. “It’s been like that for years.”
“It’s cool.”
He smiles. “Yeah, it is. This place wouldn’t be the same without it now. It’s part of the charm. Like Caroline herself, no matter how much of a pain in the ass she is.”
We walk up to the garden gate hidden in the hedgerow. It’s a little wooden one that creaks when Josh opens it for me. His parents have lived here all his life, and I try to imagine him as a little kid with all his siblings around him, running along the path to the front door.
“What do you think?” Josh asks me. “Do you like it? Good first impression?”
“I love it.”
“Countryside or city? What’s your verdict?”
I look at him. “My verdict?”
“Yeah, your verdict, for when we do the whole settle down with marriage and kids and a couple of dogs thing. Countryside or city?”
I love how he’s talking about our future as though it’s already set in stone.
“Both,” I say. “Let’s make sure we earn enough money to do both. We can keep your Belgravia apartment, and get a country home, how’s that sound?”
He smiles as we walk along the path.
“Sounds great to me. Let’s milk the hardcore ladder for all it’s worth. You can make double anal a staple of yours now.” He laughs as we reach the door. “We could always book in some special edition double proposals. You can take the anal and I can dessert spoon the cum out of you as the clients watch.”
He’s still laughing when a pretty, older woman answers the door in a long floaty skirt and pale blue cardigan, and bloody hell, she must have heard him. There’s no way she wouldn’t have. I could curl up and die of embarrassment, but she doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, just pulls him in for a hug, and tuts in his ear.
“Joshua, at least introduce your lovely new girlfriend before discussing double anal at the dinner table, will you, please?”
He hugs her right back. “Hey, Mum. Don’t worry. I’ll keep my trap shut.” And then they both turn to look at me. “And here we have her. My lovely new girlfriend. The woman that dreams are made of.”
My cheeks burn at his intro.
