Page 87 of Falling for You
‘Well,’ Nate says, turning back to me and smiling. ‘She made quite the first impression.’
‘Of course she did!’ Mum gushes, and it takes everything in me not to lean forward and thwack her.
‘Why’s that, then?’ Dad says innocently, and he sneaks in a wink towards me which makes me burn with embarrassment.
Mum pulls the lasagne out of the oven, her hands covered in the red gingham tea towel as a cloud of steam billows around her.
‘Well,’ Nate says, taking a sip of his wine. ‘For starters, she was dressed as a bat.’
Mum puts the lasagne on the table with a thud.
‘A bat?’ She turns to me. ‘Annie, were you in one of your costumes?’
I nod. ‘It was Halloween.’
‘Oh!’ Mum holds the tea towel to her chest. ‘In the bat costume? Gosh, that was afantasticoutfit. Wasn’t it, David?’
‘One of your best,’ Dad twinkles.
‘Have you seen any more of them?’ Mum gabbles. ‘Of Annie’s costumes? They are so brilliant.’
‘No,’ I say, grabbing Mum by the arm as she starts to scurry past me. ‘Mum, Nate doesn’t need to see every costume I’ve ever made.’
‘I’d love to.’
I’m about to give Nate a warning look when I realise that he’s smiling at Mum, and he looks like he’s genuinely enjoying himself. He’s not mocking me or cringing at how over the top my parents are; he wants to see.
‘Really,’ I protest. ‘Mum, it’s fine.’
‘How about we eat first?’ Dad says, popping the cork of another bottle of red wine.
‘Yes,’ Mum says, taking a deep breath as she walks back towards our dining table, but not before running her hand along Dad’s arm and giving the tips of his fingers a squeeze. They both sit down, and Nate and I follow.
Mum smiles at us both, her face glowing. ‘Let’s eat.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Nate
I sit back on the bed and look around the small boxroom. Low wooden beams are propped up in the corner, holding the weight of the room. The walls are covered in a sage and champagne striped wallpaper, with framed photos of Annie as a child, her parents hugging her tightly or carrying her on their shoulders.
It’s the house. It’s the house me and Mom have spoken about for years. It’s like stepping into a version of my childhood that I don’t have any more, where the four of us – Mom, Dad, me and Stevie – were all at home, sat aroundourdining-room table. Laughing and poking fun at each other, playing board games and watching TV. We haven’t been that way for years. Even when I am back home, the relaxed ease that Annie and her parents have has left my family. We can all be laughing, absorbed in a new series or marching along the streets of New York … but it’s always there. That faint thread of worry, winding us all together, ready to give a sharp tug if any of us get too lost in the idea that everything is okay and life is how it was before.
‘Hey.’
I look up as Annie walks into the room. It’s funny, I thought she was beautiful the first night I met her, when she was in her incredible costume. I thought she was more beautiful when I saw her last week, and she was dancing and having fun, flailing her arms around without a care in the world. But now, seeing her in her hoodie and baggy jeans, her cheeks pink from the warmth of the fire and her face bare of make-up … I think she’s the most beautiful yet.
‘Right,’ she says, quietly closing the door behind her. ‘They’re distracted. I think I can get you out now.’
I raise my eyebrows at her in surprise. ‘Out?’
‘To a B&B or a hotel, if you found one you liked the look of,’ she says. ‘You absolutely do not have to stay here.’
As we had chatted around the dinner table earlier in the evening, Annie’s mom had asked what I was doing in the Cotswolds. When I told her the story, about how I’d come down here for a fun, spontaneous day and would have got stuck here if it wasn’t for Annie saving me and helping me find somewhere to stay, they both sprang into action, insisting that I must stay the night and get the train home in the morning. It was far too late to find somewhere else now, and they had a spare room. Really, it would be madness not to and theyinsisted. I knew I didn’t have a choice, but I agreed quite gladly.
‘Of course,’ I say, catching myself. Annie had said she’d help me find somewhere to stay. She clearly didn’t invite me to stay with her and crash her family meal and weekend. ‘Sorry. You want me to go,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘I’ll be onmy way. Thank you so much for helping me. I really appreciate it.’ I glance at Annie and notice her face change. I’m not sure if it’s the light, but she looks disappointed.
‘No, it’s not that,’ she says, sitting on the bed. ‘I just … you came here for a break and my parents have ambushed you into staying with us.’
