by Sarah Cole
Oh, shit balls on fire! Think, Verity! Think! “Ok, well you said it could be really anything, right?”
“Right…” she says, but really, I hear, “Get on with it.”
“Well…” I stall, trying to grasp at any idea at all when one hits me. “You see, I have this list I made after a series of failed relationships. It was my list of all of the qualities that I thought my dream guy should possess. I wasn’t willing to settle for anything less than perfection.” I pause, waiting for a reaction… any at all. Finally, after what I just spewed sinks into her thick, hairspray helmet, she glances up with bright, curious eyes.
“Go on…” She prompts.
“I had this idea of perfection in my head, but then I met someone. I’m not saying it’s a romance novel worthy love, because what we have is anything but. However, he is nothing like what my idea of perfection was, but somehow he is perfect to me no matter how hard I tried to fight it.”
“Ok, so what is the angle here?” She lifts a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“There isn’t really an angle, but more of a story and encouragement. I want to share my story, and encourage women not to strive for perfection, but instead, seek what or rather, who, is perfect for them, despite what everyone else thinks is perfect. Give them my list for my dream guy, and describe how different Hunter is from my idea, but show ways he is better. There’s such a filter put on relationships. We all paint ideas of what perfect lives and relationships look like with all of the bloggers and Insta-bloggers around these days, but that’s not real. I want to give girls hope that maybe if they take some of the pressure off of relationships, and let things happen organically and just have fun with it, great things can happen.” I finish, and Ashley just sits across the desk staring me down with that creepy glare she has perfected.
“Ok, it’s a start. It kind of makes me want to throw up from the sickening sweetness, but it is good. I need you to find a way to spice it up a bit, add more depth and dimension. Find ways that women can apply your theory to their lives. Write up a rough draft and have it to me by the first of January. You can go now.” Seeing as how I’ve been dismissed, I gather my things and scurry towards my freedom.
After I close the door behind me, I let out an enormous breath that apparently, I’d been holding. I wish I could hold it that long while snorkeling. Tally, Gigi, Holly and Alex are all staring at me with wide expectant eyes.
“That was one crazy train I couldn’t wait to get off of.” I say on a whisper, and we all fail at fighting back our laughter.
***
I’m at my desk, shoveling a bowl of lettuce and bland chicken into my face when I hear Preston gasp. “Oh, my Jesus! Who ordered the strippers?! Oh, yummy!”
I nearly choke on my dry chicken when I hear a familiar voice say, “I hear there’s a very naughty girl that works here.” I spin around mid-bite to find Tanner strolling towards me, with Hunter not far behind.
“Dude, Tanner…don’t say shit like that. It’s creepy.” Hunter tells him.
“What are you guys doing here?! Oh, is someone getting arrested? Please tell me it’s my boss!” I say excitedly as I take in the lean, muscled perfection that is Officer Hunter Williams in uniform. Then I see Tanner who is already trying to cozy up to Gigi.
“Tanner! No!” I scold like he’s a bad dog, and shoot the poor girl a warning look. She seems to understand girl code as she grabs her papers from the printer and walks hurriedly back to her work station. She’s had enough heartbreak lately, and Tanner is nothing besides a walking version of that.
“But really. What are you doing here?” I ask as Hunter takes the salad from my hands and sets it down. He pulls me up and out of my chair and plants a searing kiss on my mouth.
“Office dispute.” He says simply, and I look around to find all of my co-workers, including the Feminazi staring at us with slack jaws and fixed gazes. When he sees, I’m looking for a more in-depth description of the situation, he continues. “Someone two floors up threw a portable laminating machine and a fruit basket at a junior partner for losing a big account. Things got pretty heated and one of the secretaries called in in. We were getting ready to break for lunch and thought we’d stop in to see if you’d like to join? Plus, I couldn’t wait until later to see you.”
“Gag.” Tanner groans, interrupting the sweet moment.
“You’re just jealous, Tanner. You need a good woman in your life.” Hunter waves him off.
“Nope. Been there. Done that shit, and it was a god damn disaster! I’m good living the single life.” Tanner takes a step back like our love is infectious. Hold the phone! Our love? Oh, damn it. I think I’m falling for this man…and I didn’t even want to! Hell, if I’ll be the first one to admit it out loud. No sir.
chapter 13
LESSON #13: Don’t let your parents see your boyfriend unless you’re ready for meet and greets.
VERITY:
I grab the can of whipped cream from my refrigerator because…screw it, and settle myself into my couch waiting for my mom to video chat me. Sure, my parents just live across the city in Hudson Square, but with their crazy work schedules we make sure we never miss our Wednesday night chats just in case we can’t get together on the weekends. Just as I’m getting settled, my phone rings and lights up with a goofy picture of my parents at a charity gala. They’re dressed as bacon and eggs, and it makes me smile every time.
I slide the button to answer and immediately am assaulted with a view straight up my father’s nose.
“Stan, just put it on the tripod!” my mom bosses him around.
“I am Denise!Calm your tits!” he retorts.
“Please do not use such demeaning jargon, Stanley. It gives me bad jou-jou, and I need a clear frame of mind. I have a lot on my plate at work right now.”
“Hello? Parental units?” I call out, and finally my dad figures out a good camera angle so I don’t have to count his nose hairs.
“Oh, hi sweet pea!” my dad smiles, pulling off his tie and grabs his sifter of whiskey.
“Hi, daddy.” I say. Yes, ok, I still call my father daddy. But I swear that it’s not in a spoiled brat kind of way. Nope, I’m just an only child and super close with my parents.
“Hi, Verity.” My mom waves like she always does, and I smile.
“Hi mom!”
“Honey, did you get that article I sent you on how females empower themselves differently around the globe? It was truly a fascinating perspective!” she says.
“Oh, I got it. I just haven’t had a chance to read it yet. I’m sorry.” I feel bad, but honestly, she sends me an article a day on women’s empowerment. It’s great and all, but I’m empowered already. I just don’t have the authority to do much about it, but she doesn’t understand that having always been in the world of academia.
“Is that a can of whipped cream? Honey! Honestly, you need to eat a real meal!” my mom reprimands me. I’m not about to tell her that Hunter is bringing over the dinner I ordered, after he gets off of work and goes home to change. My parents know that I’ve been seeing someone, but I haven’t really mentioned that it is the police officer they pleaded for my freedom with.
“I will eat. Promise. This is just… stress reliever?” I offer.
“You’re not doing those whip it things again, are you?” My dad questions.
“Gosh, no! That was one time and I was fifteen and curious! They pretty much outlined it in great detail with that article, and I wanted to know if it worked!” I defend.
“Still scared the shit out of us when we came home to find you sucking on a can, high as a kite.”
“Still sorry about that.” I apologize.
“Never mind that, sweet pea. We’re just glad it wasn’t a gateway into more serious drug usage.” Dad says running his fingers through his thinning hair.
“Stan, stop! That’s why you have that bald spot!” my mother grabs his hand and holds onto it.
“My darling, bald spot or not, I still know how to make you
-”
“Ok, enough! Gross!” I interrupt, and they both look at the screen as if they forgot I was just about to witness how Denise and Stan Peterson make babies.
“Sorry.” They both apologize at the same time before my mom continues, “Ok, so tell us what’s new. What’s going on at work?”
“Ashley, my boss, is going through something and has turned into a monster. I turned in one of my columns today for this month’s issue, and I finally have an idea for the Valentines--”
“Babe! I think Mr. Sam gave us extra spring rolls for free. Said something about Jang-Li.” Hunter interrupts me mid-sentence as he busts through my door. I swear, he’s getting just about as bad as Tanner, but I feel like it’s ok since he puts the toilet seat down and doesn’t use my toothbrush. But something tells me that I probably wouldn’t mind half as much if Hunter did those same things – I’d get over it.
He stops. His eyes go wide as he takes in the site of my parents’ faces on the propped-up phone on the coffee table and he hunkers down and slowly starts to tiptoe out of view. As if that’s going to work.
“No need to try and hide now, young man. Busted!” my dad says loud enough for Hunter to hear from across the room. Hunter stops, abruptly standing to full height and walks over to the couch. His eyes keep darting between the expectant faces of my parents and my probably terrified expression.
It isn’t that I’m embarrassed by either of them. It is quite the opposite actually. I think they will get along great because all three of them are people loving people, but I know how overbearing my parents can be. I also don’t want them to form a real relationship until I’m one hundred percent certain of where this relationship is going. Ok, so, my heart is one hundred percent in it to win it, but my head still waffles between treat yo’self and why are you risking it again? I tell my head to shut its mouth and give Hunter as much of a reassuring smile as I can muster at the moment.
He plops down beside me with a poof of the couch and steals the can of cream from my death grip before he sprays a heap into his mouth. I roll my eyes and catch the site of both of my parents looking mildly amused by his display. Mom’s eyes suddenly widen as she gets a closer look at Hunter.
“Oh, well isn’t that just the funniest thing, Stan?” my mom asks, her voice full of humor.
Dad just replies with a very non-committal grunt, because obviously, he still has no idea what she’s talking about like usual.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! It’s that handsome young policeman that almost arrested Verity!”
His eyebrows raise slightly in recognition. “So, how long have you two, um, been… together?” my dad asks, and I know it’s for lack of anything better to say.
“Oh, we’re just-” I begin, but I’m cut off abruptly when Hunter interrupts.
“For about a month.” He says, looking at me with a cocky smile. I know he wants to make it official, and yet, somehow, I’m the one that’s fearful of commitment.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” my mom clasps her hands to her chest like I just told her that Saks Fifth Avenue just introduced a layaway program. “Isn’t that wonderful, Stan?” she elbows my father in the ribs and he gives her the side-eye like she’s crazy.
“Christ, woman! Why are you acting like you drank a bottle of Shiraz?” he rubs the tender spot she elbowed, and she readjusts the camera. My mother is sweet as pie, but she morphs into something straight out of a reality show on catty housewives when she gets a good bottle of wine in her.
“It just makes me feel a little less guilty for what we’re about to tell her; that’s all.”
Immediately my brain starts working overtime, and I’m thinking the worst. When neither of them decide to continue on and elaborate, I explode. “Will one of you tell me what’s going on? Daddy, is it your heart? Do you need another angioplasty?”
“Oh, no, sweet pea! I’m fine. I’ll let your mother explain.”
“Thanks a lot, Stanley.”
“It was your idea, Denise!”
“You guys!” I interrupt their bickering.
My mom sighs, “Honey, your father and I will be taking a trip. But, we’ll be gone over Christmas. The university is sending me on a month long sabbatical to Australia to do some research on femininity amongst the ancient Aborigines. Since it’s an election year, your father’s agenda is pretty quiet until mid- January. So, it’s the perfect time to go!”
“Oh.” Is all I can manage, because I feel like someone just popped my party balloon. I haven’t spent a single Christmas away from my parents since birth. I knew it was bound to happen eventually, but I figured that would be once I was solidly attached to a man or had a family of my own. Instead, I get Christmas alone. Hot pocket party for one while watching It’s a Wonderful Life, and bawling my eyes out. Solid plans.
Instead of throwing a tantrum any toddler would be inspired by, I quickly school my features into something resembling excitement for them, but it hurts. It hurts my face and it hurts my heart. “That’s great! I know you’ve been wanting to do that, mom.”
“Verity, don’t do that.” she says looking guilty, and all of a sudden, I’m the one that feels guilty. I know my mom has been wanting to study that topic. That is the last piece of research she needs to complete the book she’s been working on for a number of years.
“Do what?” I ask innocently.
“With your face. I know you’re upset, but you’re trying to hide it. How many times have I tried to tell you that it’s ok for you to feel what you’re feeling. No one is going to hold it against you.” she motions with her arms. No doubt conducting this conversation with as much flourish as she does her lectures.
I struggle for what to say next because she’s right. Of course, she is. She’s my mother and she knows me better than I know myself most days. I don’t want my sour mood to dampen her good spirits so I opt out of speaking all together. Mature? Probably not, but it’s for the best.
Just as the awkward silence becomes deafening and my father clears his throat for the third time, Hunter saves us all. “Mr. and Mrs. Peterson? I don’t mean to dip without a chip here, but Verity is more than welcome to spend Christmas with me and my family. In fact, I wouldn’t love anything more.”
I feel my eyes grow wide on my face as he throws his arm around my shoulder and holds me close. While it feels amazing to be right where I am and know that he wants me to meet his family, it also gives me some serious anxiety. So, what do I do as my parents gush over Hunter and chat with him? I rip the can of whipped cream from his other hand, open my mouth, and fill ‘er up.
Before disconnecting the line, my parents invite us both to Sunday dinner at their house this weekend, and Hunter is all over that like white on rice. I did my best at just accepting the fact that I was getting steamrolled. Just like I knew I would. I give a weak smile and nod numbly. What the hell just happened?
Hunter leans over the side of the couch to plug my phone into the charger and when he sits back up he has a mischievous smile.
“What?” I ask, but I feel my lips pulling into a smile to match his. He has that effect on me. He just makes me happy. Duh, Verity! So why are you fighting this so hard?
“You.” he answers.
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” he slides over, and straddles me so I’m underneath him, my chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re so god damned cute, Verity. Don’t worry.”
“Worried? I’m not worried at all.” I say, but even I know I sound ridiculous as my voice has risen several octaves, making me sound like a cartoon character.
“I disagree. I think you are.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, causing me to smile, before he works his way across my cheek and down my neck. He grinds himself into me in just the right spot, causing me to let out a slight groan, as I run my fingers through his short hair. “But don’t worry. My family is going to love you just like I-”
Just like I…what? I’ll never really know because, my front door flies open, only to reveal Tan
ner standing in my entry way with a shit eating grin. “For the love of god, you two. Get a room!” he says loudly, and I let my head fall back to the couch.
I’m halfway relieved that Hunter didn’t get to finish his sentence, but also disappointed because I want to know if he’s indeed feeling the way I’m feeling. Like my mom said, guess I’m just going to have to let go and let myself ‘feel what I’m feeling.’
HUNTER:
This woman. I see the fear in her eyes, but I need to get her to open up to me one way or another. I figure the best way to do that is raw, unfiltered honesty. I can’t lie and say that I’m not scared as fuck, because I am. Normally I wouldn’t put myself out there and be the first to admit my feelings to a woman. Hell, I’ve never even told a woman that I’ve loved her before, but if admitting to Verity that I’m falling madly in love with her will help break down some of those bricks around her heart, then I’ll do it. I’ll do it, but more importantly, I’ll prove it. Because I do – love her, and it isn’t like any feeling I’ve felt before. It’s like from the very start; her little fist has held my heart in a vice grip and it won’t let go. It certainly shocked the hell out of me, but she does things to me, and there’s no place I’d rather be than with her. Now I just have to convince her that I’m not going anywhere, and neither is she.
I’ve finally worked up the courage to lay my heart out there for her when the front door flies open, putting me on high alert until I realize it’s fucking McKenzie.
“For the love of god, you two. Get a room!” he bellows, dropping a six pack onto the kitchen countertop.
I stand up and adjust my hard on quickly. “Seriously? What the hell, Tanner? You can’t just barge in here like that. What if she was naked? What if we were, you know…?” I say and his face splits into a grin that I want to stick my fist into. I can’t help it. I’m pissed. He may be my best friend, but damn it. I don’t like the thought of him coming and going in my girlfriend’s apartment as he pleases.
