Chapter Eight
If I thought those five days in Tempe were magical,
they were nothing compared to this new chapter of our lives.
Now that Christian is back in California, we see each other
constantly. He often drives to LA during the week to see me, and then I go and
stay with him in Newport Beach. I always associate him with being in Anaheim
because he spends so much time at the stadium, but his home is right by the
ocean, and it is incredible.
You wouldn’t think it’d be a big deal, given I’m from
Florida, but I grew up in the middle of the state. The beaches were over an
hour away, so it wasn’t like I saw them regularly. Being able to spend the
weekends walking hand in hand along the sand with the man I love is wildly
romantic.
We have a favorite spot where he takes me to watch the
sunset overlooking the ocean, and I can’t help but marvel, again, at the fact
that he was single before we met.
“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” I ask in pure
wonder as the sun sets.
Christian turns his head, and I wish I had a camera because
he looks so handsome, relaxed, and happy. The boyish grin he gives me makes my
heart flutter.
“I don’t think I’m amazing,” he replies, playfully nudging
me with his shoulder. “But I guess I do okay.”
“Are you kidding me? These last weeks have been like
something out of a Hallmark movie. You put so much thought into everything we
do, and you make it all so romantic.” I sigh happily. “It’s still a little hard
to believe that there aren’t women chasing after you.”
That makes him laugh. “Ella Rose, I don’t think I’m doing
anything so special. Last night, we got Slurpees from
7-Eleven after having pizza. I’d hardly call that romantic.”
Silly man.
“But it is,” I say. “I think we’re all a bit trained to
believe romance means fancy and expensive dinners, flowers, and jewelry. But I
think it’s romantic when you put thought into doing things you know the other
person really loves.”
“Like pizza and slushies?” he teases.
Laughing, I nod. “Like pizza and slushies. Don’t get me
wrong, I love going to dinner at a fancy restaurant once in a while, but I’m
really more of a simple girl. I enjoy taking these walks on the beach and
watching sunsets and eating food that doesn’t cost more than my rent.”
He nods in agreement. “Then it doesn’t bother you when I
cook for us instead of going out?”
Oh, yeah. You read that right. He cooks.
“Are you kidding? I love it. You’re really good at it. It’s
impressive.”
“Well, growing up, my mother made sure we could all cook.
Life skills are important. Plus, living on my own, it’s a necessity. Takeout is
fine once in a while, but I couldn’t do it every night. I grew up with meals
that I now make for myself. That’s the true meaning of comfort food, right?
Just sitting down and eating a dinner that makes you feel closer to your
family.”
It’s sweet, and yet I feel a little sad for him. I miss my
family, but I can hear in his voice that he really misses his. That’s
how close they are. If anything, it only adds to his appeal. A good-hearted man
who works hard, is wildly romantic, and loves his family? It’s a little like
seeing a unicorn hanging out with Santa Claus and the tooth fairy.
“I love that,” I tell him. “Your mom must be an amazing cook
because everything you’ve made for me is delicious.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her you said so.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if maybe there will be a
time when I can tell her myself, but I don’t say anything. I know we’re heading
in that direction, and I can be patient. Just because so many things between us
have been fast-tracked doesn’t mean all of it has to be. For now, I’m very
content with the way things are.
There are moments like this—quiet and romantic. And then
there are others where we’re just ridiculously goofy. Somehow, it all fits.
It’s incredible to be on the same page with someone, to be able to show up
exactly as you are without worrying they’ll think you’re strange or too much. I
don’t think I’ve ever felt this comfortable with anyone in my life.
With my family, I’ve always been able to be myself, but
outside of them, I usually keep a small part of me tucked away. With Christian,
nothing feels hidden. I let it all spill out, and the best part is, he does,
too. With me, he lowers his guard, and we’re suddenly just two people talking
about everything from world events and politics to the absolute disaster that
is bad reality television.
We love to discuss all things pop culture, and ever since my
birthday karaoke performance, we have started singing more.
FYI, Christian is not a good singer at all.
And yes, he knows it.
Still, we both love music from the eighties and nineties,
and that’s all we play when we’re in the car. I made us a playlist—well,
several of them—with all our favorite songs. And while that should have been
enough to thoroughly entertain us for sing-along purposes, I upped our game
with some inflatable microphone party favors. We keep them in the car and sing
to each other while we’re stuck in all the California freeway traffic. Jen says
we’re adorkable, but I know she means it as a compliment. We are living our
lives as our genuine selves. And isn’t that really how it should be?
But being genuine doesn’t always mean our best, you know?
Spending so much time together while we were in Tempe was
awesome because we were away from our regular lives. It was like being on
vacation. But now that we’re back home and have returned to our semi-normal
schedules, at least until baseball starts up again, there’s more room for some
of our not-so-best sides to come out. I know it happens in all relationships,
but not every quirk is cute.
Or relatable.
Christian has a hard time with how unpredictable my career
is. Don’t get me wrong, even with all the time we’re spending together, I am
still auditioning and actively pursuing roles and taping the shows that I have
recurring parts on. It’s just not a rigid schedule like his.
Even though baseball season is over, and he is still
undergoing physical therapy for his piriformis injury, he trains every day. He
goes to the gym every day. He is beyond regimented. I admire his dedication to
his sport, but there are days when I’m a little like, “Dude, you can take a day
and relax, right?” But it’s rare that he does.
For as many ways as we are completely in sync with each
other, there are equally as many things that make us total opposites. I’m laid
back. He’s structured. I’m an extrovert. He’s more of an introvert. I am ready
to pick up and go on a moment’s notice, but he needs a little more time to get
mentally prepared. He hates the way I drive, and I’m not really a fan of the
rules and restrictions he puts on his life.
We balance each other out, and I know that’s the way most
couples are, but I’m worried that we’re going to hit that bump at some point,
that quirk or trait that will make us question what we’re doing.
“How about we start walking back home, Ella Rose?” Christian
asks, and I realize I’ve been in my head, lost in my own thoughts instead of
enjoying the sunset.
So, I smile and place my hand in his. “Let’s go.”
Fall comes to an end, and before we know it, the
holidays are here.
I love Christmas. Like seriously love it. Unfortunately, as
much as we want to spend them together, we are both very much about our
families, and we end up agreeing to spend the holidays apart.
Sort of.
“I want you to meet my family,” he says. “But I don’t want
you to miss out on spending Christmas with yours.”
“I feel the same way. So, where does that leave us?” His
family is still in Florida, and mine is in Tennessee. I really wish my parents
still lived in Florida because it would be so much more convenient.
“Come to Florida with me for a few days before Christmas,
and then I’ll fly to you and meet your family afterward. And then we’ll fly
home and spend New Year’s with our friends. What do you think?”
“I think that sounds wonderful.”
We fly out of LAX four days before Christmas to spend two
days with Christian’s family, and I still believe our plans are great. Am I
nervous? Definitely. But I know it will go well because Christian is so easy to
get along with, and I’m confident the rest of his family will be the same.
And they are.
Sort of.
From the moment we walk through the door, I can sense that
things aren’t going to go quite as well as they did in my mind.
Everyone is very friendly, kind, and polite, but I can tell
that A.) they’re not used to Christian bringing a girl home to meet the family,
and B.) they are super protective of him. Most people I meet are interested in
my career and ask about the famous people I know, but the Lucases
just sort of smile and nod as I talk about myself.
I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous, and I’m
relieved when the conversation moves away from me.
Christian has two sisters and two brothers, all of whom are
incredibly chatty and eager to tell me every detail about Christian’s life. His
mother keeps putting food out for everyone to eat, but his father just watches
me. It’s not like he’s glaring or frowning, he’s just…observing. I make a
mental note to spend a little time talking to him so I can win him over.
“Ella, did you know that Christian was voted most helpful in
school?”
“Ella, did Christian ever tell you about the old car we all
used to share?”
“Christian, tell Ella how you started learning how to throw
by aiming for the stop sign on the corner.”
“Did you tell Ella about the time you got hit by a
ninety-five-mile-per-hour fastball?”
When he doesn’t answer fast enough, his oldest sister,
Marie, explains.
“It was crazy, and he let the ball hit him so he could get
on base. Can you imagine? And this was while he was still in college, mind you.
The ball deflected off his arm and hit his ribs so hard he had an enormous
bruise there the next day.” She shakes her head, even as she smiles at
Christian. Note to self: I really like Marie, but I can tell she’s very
protective and considers herself like another mom to Christian. I need to make