Chapter 35 Easy to Love
Chapter thirty-five
Easy to Love
Marigold Belmore
Going to Jameson’s parents’ house shouldn’t be stressful. I’ve spent more time there than my own house over the years. I know they love me and I love them. But everything feels different now.
I run my finger nervously over the tiny hole in my black tights. I should have bought a new pair. What if it rips further? Jameson’s hand reaches over the console and grabs mine, halting my fidgeting.
“Breathe, Goldie,” he soothes. “They didn’t turn into complete strangers the moment you and I kissed. They’re going to be over the moon.”
“What if they aren’t?” I voice my fears. “What if they only liked me because I was just your friend? Or pretended to like me—”
He shoots me a look that has me cutting off mid-sentence.
“Quit saying ridiculous things.”
My mouth pops open with indignation.
“I’m worried—”
“For no reason.”
I huff and pinch his dumb big hand.
“Well, you could be a little nicer when telling me so.”
He laughs, unaffected by my attack.
“I’ve tried nice. You don’t respond to that.”
I pinch him again, this time on his forearm.
“Maybe you weren’t nice enough—did you ever think about that?” I counter.
“No.”
I pinch him again, and this time he jerks his arm away, laughing more.
“Would you quit that?”
“No.” I echo his earlier answer with a grin.
His eyes shift from the road to me, and back again. We’re almost to his family’s home. My anxiety ticks higher.
“If you leave a bruise I can no longer promise my mom’s unconditional love,” he teases.
Naturally, I reach across and smack his shoulder.
“Your mom would take my side anyway because she knows you’re a pest.”
“You’re probably right.” He gives me a meaningful look. “Which is why you should breathe. I’m pretty sure between us, you’re the favorite.”
I bite my lip. His parents have always treated me as a part of the family.
They’ve taken my side during silly arguments and even teamed up with me against Jameson during game nights.
But since I grew up in a house where I felt more resentment than love, it’s hard to accept that anyone would see me as the favorite.
I think for a long time I felt like Jameson’s parents brought me in because they felt bad for me or only tolerated me because Jameson and I were inseparable.
But his words are challenging that belief.
We pull onto his parents’ street. They live in an idyllic suburban neighborhood.
It’s so perfect sometimes it makes me rethink my plan to live in a cabin in the woods where no one can interrupt my writing time.
A family going on a walk and bike ride together waves as we pass. Jameson lifts his hand in a wave back.
“I don’t recognize them,” I say as a way to distract from my nerves. Jameson’s words helped, but there’s still a tornado of butterflies in my stomach.
“My parents said a lot of new families have been moving in lately. Some of the retired older couples have decided to become snowbirds. I asked if they were going to move to Florida too, but they said they bought their house with forever in mind and didn’t have plans on changing that.”
I smile at the answer. If there’s one thing Jameson’s parents are, it's stable. Constant. Not in a way that seems rote, but in a way that makes you feel safe. My muscles relax when I see the familiar red door.
They’re not like my family. They don’t shift with the wind. They’ve got roots.
Jameson parks behind his mom’s SUV that she’s had since we were in middle school. My smile widens as I recall all of the late-night ice cream runs and weekend road trips we went on in that car.
“You look like you’re doing better,” Jameson says softly.
I turn my smile on him. His expression is warm and open. I unbuckle my seatbelt and shift toward him. He does the same.
“It’s hard not to feel a little nervous, but you’re right, they aren’t the type to change their mind about loving me.”
He places a hand on my cheek.
“No, they aren’t. I don’t see how anyone could, seeing as you’re easy to love.”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, threatening to make an appearance.
“If you make me cry, your mom is going to think you did something wrong,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.
He smiles and brushes my cheek with his thumb. “Then I suppose we should go inside, because I could spend hours right here telling you how much I love you and how you’re deserving of all that love and more.”
I close my eyes against the tears.
“It’s like you’re trying to make me fall in love with you or something.”
He hums. “You’re only just now catching on?”
I open my eyes, and he swipes away a tear that falls.
“You’re going to get me in trouble,” he whispers, but he’s still smiling.
He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my lips that sends my stomach swooping. It’s been a week since we started dating, and I’m still not used to this. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.
“Come on, let’s get inside before they come out to find us,” he says, and I nod.
He turns to get out of his truck. I take a deep breath and pat my face dry with the sleeves of my cardigan, then join him in the driveway. We walk to the door hand in hand. It opens right as we step onto the porch. Jameson’s mom, Rose, is grinning from ear to ear in her apron.
“My little flower is finally visiting!” Rose exclaims, and throws her arms around me in a hug. I drop Jameson’s hand and hug her back.
Rose has called me her little flower for as long as I can remember.
Whenever we get together, she doesn’t call it a girls’ day; instead, she calls it tending the garden.
Guilt gnaws at my insides over having missed out on those days for so many months.
I know I’m not the only one to blame, that Jameson had a part to play, but I still hate that it took us so long to repair what was broken.
That’s another reason I thought his parents might not receive me well. I’ve been avoiding them for some time now.
“I missed you,” I tell her, my tears returning.
She frowns when she pulls back and looks at me.
“Jameson, why is she crying? Do we need to have a talk?”
“How could I have made her cry? You’re the one hugging her!” He laughs, and I join in when Rose sticks her tongue out at him.
She turns her attention back to me and gives me a warm smile.
“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. Jameson has told us how hard you’ve been working, though. It sounds like we need to have a gardening day soon.” She winks and I grin.
“That would be great.”
“Don’t let me forget to get my agenda book out before you leave, and we’ll put something on the schedule,” she says, then lets me go and wraps Jameson in a hug next.
Anxiety pricks at the back of my mind. Rose likes to spend the entire day together when we do these things.
Can I afford to lose a whole day? I start to wring my hands, then stop when Jameson and Rose break apart.
I don’t want to offend Rose by turning her down after being away for so long, but most days it feels like I don’t even have my head above water.
It’s like I’m breathing out of a straw, and the waves are threatening to undo even that.
Dating Jameson hasn’t added too much to my plate, because we see each other in class, at the paper, at his games, and more. Our dates so far have involved studying. There’s kissing too, of course … but still. I doubt his mom is going to be okay with me breaking out my literature anthology at lunch.
“Rosie, how long are you going to fuss over them on the porch?” Jameson’s dad, Stan, calls out. “I’m hungry.”
Rose rolls her eyes. “I guess we should get inside. Your dad skipped lunch to have extra room for dinner. Ridiculous man.”
Jameson grabs my hand as we start to head inside. Rose’s smile somehow grows even bigger.
“Oh, my heart might burst at the sight of you two together. I knew the Lord was listening!”
My brows shoot up. This whole time she was praying for us to get together? We follow her inside and I glance up at Jameson. He shrugs.
“Don’t look at me. I’ve never heard one of those prayers. I didn’t mention feelings for you until I told her we were dating yesterday.”
I shake my head in disbelief. I’ve been worried about this changing everything, and it has in a way, but maybe that change is good.