Chapter Eight #2
sure she trusts me.
He grins. “We won, so, it was worth it.”
I just smile because that seems a little excessive. I’ve
wanted roles before, but not enough to physically hurt myself. I’ve worn
different makeup and changed my hair, but nothing painful. Then again, sports
is an entirely different animal from acting.
I learn so much about Christian over the next two days and
thoroughly enjoy myself, but I never get the time I wanted with his father.
When it’s time for me to leave for the airport, and I’m saying goodbye to
everyone, I save his dad for last.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Lucas. Thank you for
welcoming me into your home.” I smile, my voice soft and sincere, but he
doesn’t return it.
“Nice to meet you, Ella,” he says stiffly before turning and
walking away.
It isn’t until Christian and I are alone in the car that I
ask if I did okay.
“Why would you even ask?” he says, sounding totally amused.
“Everyone really liked you.”
“Except your dad,” I murmur.
He studies me for a long moment. “My dad’s just…stoic.”
Every time we’ve talked about his family, I got the
impression that his father was strict, but I thought it was when Christian and
his siblings were growing up. The man I just said goodbye to seems like maybe
he’s still that way. And it makes my heart ache for my man. He deserves to have
a dad who gushes over him and everything he’s accomplished in his career.
But I keep that observation to myself.
I do that a lot in this relationship, and I’m not sure why.
I talk a big game about how we are free to be ourselves and how great it is,
but am I lying to myself? Shouldn’t I be able to voice these feelings instead
of mulling them over and keeping them to myself?
It’s something to think about.
Later.
Now, I focus on what things will be like after Christmas.
Our families are very similar, but I know my dad will be a lot easier on
Christian than Mr. Lucas was on me.
At the airport, he doesn’t walk me in. Dropping me off at
the curb is easier, and I know he’s eager to get back to his family.
“I’ll see you next week, Ella Rose,” he says, right before
he kisses me.
I’m getting better with these goodbyes, but I’m still going
to miss the heck out of him.
Meeting the Holts is filled with as much enthusiasm
and as many embarrassing stories as Christian’s siblings had, and I’m cringing
a little when my mom puts in a VHS tape, because we are probably the only
family that still owns a VCR, of the Wonder Land Christmas Special that I sang
in when I was twelve.
Christian is smiling from ear to ear, and I know he’s
enjoying himself.
Maybe because it’s my turn in the hot seat.
After the video comes the pageant scrapbooks. I haven’t seen
them in years, and now that I’m looking through them with Christian, I’m
curious what he thinks.
So, I ask.
“That is a lot of makeup,” he says with a laugh. “I
didn’t think young girls wore that much.”
“They don’t, but it’s a necessity when you’re competing.” We
joke about my hair and some of the dresses, and even though it’s all in good
fun, I know this is something Christian would never let our kids do.
Oh, my…
Where on earth did that thought come from?
I quickly push it aside and sigh with relief when we’re done
with my pageant era and move on to my acting one. At some point, we stop for
dinner. My mom and dad made the equivalent of a Thanksgiving feast to impress
my boyfriend. Bless Mom’s heart. And while we’re in the kitchen putting the
finishing touches on everything, she gives me a knowing smile.
“What?” I ask, fighting my own grin. “What’s put that look
on your face?”
“I like him,” she whispers like we’re best friends sharing a
secret. “I really like him. I’m so glad you went to Tempe and claimed what’s
yours.”
“Mom,” I hiss, but end up laughing. “Don’t say that out
loud.”
I already told Christian the story, but I think it would
embarrass him to no end to hear her telling it to the rest of the family. It
takes a little extra begging, but she finally agrees not to bring it up again.
As we eat, my dad asks Christian a million questions about
baseball, and I am more than happy to sit quietly and listen to him talk about
the sport he loves. He’s so patient as he talks and listens to everything Dad
asks, and as I look around the table, it’s a little like the last piece to a
puzzle.
He fits.
He completes our family.
We’ve talked about the future—our future—without really
pinning anything down, but this trip and meeting each other’s parents is a big
step. When we get back to California, I know we’ll start taking our plans more
seriously. Especially since spring training will be here in no time. He’s
already talking about it like he’s trying to prepare me, but I’m confident that
it won’t be a big deal. I’m already looking forward to watching him play and
cheering him on, even though I know he won’t be as accessible as he’s been
since he returned from Tempe.
But it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, whatever the schedule
turns out to be, I’ll be there. I am one hundred percent in this relationship.
It’s not just the romantic times, it’s the boring, everyday times, too. The
grouchy times, the sad times, the challenging times. I’m in.
I want to show Christian that I am here not only to support
him and be his biggest cheerleader, but also to be there for him.
Like physically, in person, be there.
I know his family really loves him, and he calls them every day,
but he doesn’t see them that much. His mom still teaches, his siblings work and
have kids, and his dad is the city commissioner. The more I get to know him,
the more I realize how lonely his life is, and it makes me sad. One of
Christian’s favorite songs is “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake. A song that is
basically about a man who feels like he’s a drifter, born to walk alone.
Well, that will never happen on my watch. I want to hold
Christian’s hand and walk beside him down every stretch of that road he’s
dreamed of. I don’t ever want him to feel lonely again. I want to be the person
who eases his worries, helps carry the weight when things fall apart, and
stands there cheering him on when everything goes right.
This isn’t a role I’m playing or a version of myself I’m
trying on. It’s deeper than that. It’s real and lasting, and it feels like
something I was always meant to be.
New Year’s Eve gets off to an uneventful start. We
returned home late last night, and Christian kissed me goodbye after helping me
bring my luggage into the apartment, promising to pick me up for the party
tonight.
I sleep in, and then Jen and I meet up in the kitchen to eat
cinnamon rolls and drink tea while we talk about our holiday trips.
Hers was a lot of the same old, same old, with only a hint
of nagging from her mother about when she was going to find a nice guy and
settle down.
“Typical guilt-trip kind of trip,” she jokes. “How did
meeting the parents go?”
I tell her all about my observations of Christian’s
family—especially his dad.
“I can’t believe you didn’t win him over. You’re usually so
good at that sort of thing.”
“I know. He’s a tough nut to crack,” I say. “But it will
happen. I know it.”
We laugh about Christian having to watch my Wonder Land
videos and seeing all the scrapbooks, but it’s all in good fun.
“Okay, what are you wearing tonight?” she asks. “Are you
dressing up? Going more casual? A dress? Jeans? I bought a little black dress
that I can accessorize in a bunch of different ways.”
“I was thinking of the turquoise dress and pairing it with a
denim jacket.” It’s really all just coming to mind now. I’ve been so wrapped up
in traveling and the holidays that I haven’t even considered what to wear
tonight. Ugh.
“That one is super cute. We’ll do your hair with some soft
curls, and maybe we can find a clip or headband to go with the dress.” She
pauses and thinks for a moment. “Ooh! I have something that will work
perfectly.”
And then she’s running from the room while I relax and
finish my tea. I know that whatever she finds and decides to do will be
fabulous. I consider making myself a second cup of tea as I pop the last sweet
bite of cinnamon roll into my mouth.
My relaxation is cut short, however, when she calls out to
me from her room. That’s when I know I’ll have to start getting ready and
making wardrobe decisions sooner rather than later.
Good thing I know she only has my best interests at heart.
“Christian is going to love this,” she gushes as she pulls
out some hair clips, purses, and costume jewelry.
I still wish I were sitting with my feet up and sipping a
second cup of tea, but this is fun, too.
“I have to go and help a few clients with their hair and
makeup, and I’ll be out of here around four, so I’ll meet you guys at the
party. What time is Christian picking you up?” she asks.
“The party doesn’t start until eight, but we’re going to
grab an early dinner first, so he’ll be here at six.”
“Ooh, where are you going? Someplace fabulous?”
I shake my head. “Well, I wouldn’t say fabulous, but I think
our apartment is pretty darn cute.”