Page 52 of Loving Wild
“Hey, Sophie, good to finally meet you.” My smile is met with a small nod from Sophie.
“Hey. I love Ava’s bedroom. If I ask my mum, would you be able to do my bedroom for me?”
Gabe gives my hip a squeeze as Sophie talks, a wave of pride rolls through me at the same time, and I give her a bigger smile.
“Of course. There are photos on my website. I’ll give you a card before you leave. Just get your mum to call or email me,” I tell her. “Now, would you girls like something to eat? Our table’s booked for eight, so it’ll be a while till you get dinner.”
“Cool,” Sophie responds. “Yes, please.”
“I’m starving,” Ava adds, and both girls move towards us.
My attempt at moving out of Gabe’s hold is thwarted when he pulls me back into him, kisses my cheek and says quietly, “I’m starving too, can’t wait to dive into your muffin.” I turn my head, shake it, and roll my eyes in his direction. My heart and fanny now experiencing synchronised flutters.
* * *
Staringat my reflection in the full-length mirror, I turn from side to side and attempt to not judge what I see too harshly. I’ve never been what you’d call petit, I developed boobs and hips at a young age, but haven’t really grown much in height since I was about thirteen. I used to tell my boys the reason I’m only five-foot-two and stopped growing at thirteen is because that’s when I tried my first cigarette, and it stunted my growth. I’m not sure if that scared them both into being non-smokers or the fact they’ve both always loved to play sport, but either way, I’m glad they chose not to take up the habit.
Letting out a long, loud sigh, I wish for a moment that I had a cheeky cigarette to hand right now, and maybe a large glass of wine, or maybe a joint.
I’m not nervous about meeting Gabe’s dad, I’m really looking forward to it. I feel like it’ll be another part of the puzzle to who he is, what makes him Gabe. His stepmother though, I feel sick to my stomach at meeting her. How Gabe, his brothers, and their wives have carried on, business as usual at family gatherings, knowing what they know about her all these years, I’ll never know.
“You ready, babe?” Gabe comes through the bedroom door and asks.
“Is this too much, too dressy?” I ask.
I’m wearing the jeans I had on last night, tan ankle boots with a low, square heel, a black cami with a fringed edge along the V of the bust line, and a black and tan coloured kimono type jacket that finishes just below my hips and has bell-bottomed sleeves that I love.
“You look gorgeous,” Gabe says as he wraps his arms around my middle from behind and kisses my neck. “But just to say, you looked gorgeous in the other ninety-seven outfits you tried. We need to leave, so this one needs to be it.”
I turn in his arms and look up at him. “I just want to look nice, for you as much as for me. It’s your dad, and all the rest of your family, I just want . . .”
“You’ve met my brothers and sister, you’ve met my sisters-in-law, everyone in my family loves you. My dad is gonna be no different.”
“Okay, but you don’t think it’s too much . . . or not enough? Am I too casual?”
He tilts his head to the side and gives me a half-smile. “Did you pack an overnight bag for us?”
“Yeah, it’s in the wardrobe.”
“Did you pack a hoodie and your trackies?”
“Yeah, for both of us.”
“Your UGGs?”
“Yeah?”
“Good, because that’s what we’ll all be wearing by about seven o’clock. We’re family, Ren, we wear what we’re comfortable in.”
Letting out a deep breath and nodding in affirmation that I’ve got this, I say, “Right, I’m ready then. Grab the bag from the wardrobe, and I’ll put the food in the car.”
“It’s done, me and the girls did it.”
Each member of the family had been assigned a plate to bring. We got potato salad, but it was freezing out, so along with the potato salad, I also did a tray of roast potatoes and another of my famous Bombay Potatoes. Gabe assured me his family love spicy food, so I didn’t hold back on the chilli or cayenne pepper and had stunk the house out this morning while making them. After a special request from Gabe and the girls, I’d also made another batch of sausage rolls to bring with us. My secret of adding sage, onion stuffing, and Worcestershire Sauce to the sausage meat, made them extra popular with the three of them, resulting in the 36 I’d baked yesterday all being consumed by the time we went to bed last night.
“Right, well we’re good to go then.” I hold my hands out before letting them fall to my sides, still trying to convince myself that I definitely wasn’t nervous.
* * *
