Of course.When and where?
I count the seconds until James answers, holding my breath as my phone gives another quiet ping.
Right now, if I can come over?I can head over in a minute.
I hesitate a moment.I’ve never invited James into our house before.Introducing him to my parents would be a huge step.
But deep down, I can sense that I’m ready.I can be around him without crumbling now.And the fact that he wants to talk to me proves that, despite everything that happened yesterday, he feels the same way.
So I reply:
OK.
Then I go back downstairs, phone in hand.Mum and Dad are in the living room now.Dad’s engrossed in his Kindle book again and Mum’s going through the week’s post.Cautiously, I walk over to them and clear my throat.
“Is it OK if James comes round in a bit?”I ask.
Mum pauses with the letter opener still in her hand and glances at Dad in surprise.I can still hear her words about a “lovesick beetle” in my head, and it’s an effort not to look away from their concerned expressions.
“We only want the best for you, love,” Dad starts slowly.“And we couldn’t help noticing the bad way you were in for the whole of December.”
“That wasn’t my Ruby,” Mum says quietly.“I really don’t want you meeting up with that boy again.”
I open my mouth and shut it again.
My parents have never forbidden me to do anything.Probably because there’s never been much to forbid.My whole life has always revolved around my family and my academic ambitions.Something fires up inside me.I think it’s a mixture of confusion and irritation that they’d say that.
“James is…” I can’t find the words.I have no idea how to explain to my parents what happened between him and me.
Maybe there’s some way I can get through to them how much he means to me.And that my heart will always cling to him.But I need time.After all, I don’t know what’s about to happen.
“Please just trust me,” I say in the end, looking pleadingly at them.
The two of them exchange glances again.
Mum sighs.“Ruby, you’re eighteen.We can’t exactly ban you from seeing him.But if this boy is coming here, we’d like the chance to get to know him.”
I nod.Meanwhile, I’m wondering whether Mum’s done her research into James and the Beauforts online.That had never occurred to me before, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that is why she’s dubious—after all, I know what you can read about him on there.
“He’s not a vegetarian, is he?”Dad asks suddenly, looking inquiringly up at me.
I have to think about that.“I don’t think so.”
“Good.I was planning to do spaghetti Bolognese later.James is invited.”That’s all Dad says.Then he turns back to his book.
“That’s a great idea,” Mum agrees, smiling broadly at me.She’s really trying not to look so anxious, but there’s still a skeptical glint in her eye.She gives Dad a fleeting pat on the arm, then grabs the next letter and opens it.
It seems like the conversation is over, so I creep backward outof the living room.Then I head into the kitchen, where you can watch the cars turning onto our street.When Ember and I were little, we always used to sit on the dresser when we were expecting family and watch out for them to arrive.
In less than ten minutes, the Rolls comes round the corner.I start running.No way can I let Dad get to the door first and glare at James with eagle eyes.
I open the door before he’s even gotten out of the car.The air is still fresh and I shift my weight from one foot to the other to keep warm, but it’s no use.I stop as James comes closer.He opens the little wooden gate with a practiced hand and then looks up at me.For a tiny moment, his steps slow, but then he comes through the front garden and up the steps, until he’s standing in front of me, at our front door.
“Hey,” he says, his voice scratchy.
I long to give him a hug, just for that pathetic little word.There was a time when him greeting everyone like that really wound me up, but these days it just sounds natural from his lips.And pretty much normal.
“Good morning,” I reply, holding the door for him.I nod to him to come in.