Whatever You Do

by Stephanie Smith

  Following him out in a dream-like state, I don’t register the rental car Tate picked up on his way here until I take note of him standing next to the passenger door with a goofy smile on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask him.

  “Do you like it?” he asks, his voice all chipper and way too eager about a hire car. It’s a large, sleek black 4WD BMW, and on closer inspection, it appears brand new. Wow, Tate must really want to impress my parents. I smile at the thought of how much he must care.

  “Good choice. Mum and Dad will be very happy with it.” I smile at him.

  “Yeah, yeah, but do you like it?”

  “Sure?”

  “I wanted to make it a big surprise, but I probably should’ve come up with some kind of plan,” he says thoughtfully.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He holds the keys out to me and I take them from his hand. I notice a bright pink key ring with a large daisy in the middle of it, and the words ‘shine bright.’ I finger the key ring in my hand while my mind races. My eyes shoot to Tate’s, and he has a huge, yet nervous, smile on his face.

  “Nooooo,” I whisper. “You didn’t.”

  He nods but doesn’t speak and waits patiently for more of a response from me.

  “Tate Washington, what the fuck have you done?” I screech. My voice rises higher and higher the more I think about what is going on here.

  “I bought you a car.” He says this like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

  “You bought me a car?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs.

  “What in the hell, Tate? This isn’t a movie. You don’t just buy your girlfriend of about a minute a friggin’ car. What in the hell?” My voice is high and off-key. If it weren’t for Tate’s nod, I would surmise that only dogs could hear me now.

  “Daisy, calm down. I bought us a car. I’ve been on my own for ages, and the bike is fine for that but I have you now. I’m not going to keep hiring cars whenever we want to do something or go somewhere.”

  I stare dumbfounded at him. I have no words. He has a valid point, and it’s not ridiculous to think we do need a car.

  “Are you okay?” He cautiously walks towards me, hands up in the air, as if he’s trying to calm a rabid animal.

  “So it’s really your car?”

  “Yes, it’s my car.” He sighs. “But I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t thinking of you and our future when I bought it,” he states firmly. “I told you, Harper, you’re my family now. There’ll be lots more of this kind of thing, so get used to it.”

  He bends down and kisses me hard. I wrap my fingers through his hair, holding on, and he deepens the kiss. I’m sure he’s using it as a distraction, and well, it’s working.

  Pulling back abruptly, he slaps my ass. “So, you driving?” He smirks at me and heads towards the passenger seat.

  “No way.” I don’t make a move.

  “Come on. You have to get used to it; it’ll mainly be you driving it. I don’t want you walking around the city anymore, and you can use it to visit your parents more often without having to catch the bus.”

  “Tate, I haven’t driven for years and never in the city.” My heart rate rises along with the pitch of my voice.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll drive us out of the city and you can have a turn once you feel more comfortable. Sound good?”

  “Okay.” I nod eagerly.

  Tate opens the passenger door and waits for me to get in. He leans in and gives me a chaste kiss before closing my door and making his way around the front of the car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he gives me a huge grin as he starts the engine. I shake my head at him and his excitement. Boys and their toys.

  Our new car. It’s ours. I can’t believe it. We have something that is ours. Even though I know he paid for it, and I know if anything happens between us, he’ll keep it, it still somehow really feels like ours. I love it. It’s such a new feeling for me. Even being with John for two years, we never did something like this. Never made this kind of statement about our commitment to each other. His commitment to me being in his future. Everything was kept separate. I wonder if that’s why it never worked. We never really committed to anything.

  “What are you shaking your head at?” Tate asks, smiling at me.

  Was I? I turn in my seat to face him. “You. What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking about you. You’re all I ever think about. You and our future together.” His eyes are soft, and I practically melt in my chair. “Now, stop thinking about it and start exploring your new car like I know you want to.”

  Squealing like a teenage girl, I open every secret compartment and test any buttons or switches I can find while he laughs. I run my hand across the shiny wood-grain dash panel and quickly use the sleeve of my Henley to wipe the fingerprints off. The seats are soft, black leather, and everything is accented in a muted grey.

  I have never been in such a nice car before. My parents have always been low maintenance people, living off the bare necessities and giving the rest of their money to the church. My dad has driven the same Volvo station wagon ever since I can remember.

  Releasing a deep sigh, I lie my head on the headrest. I’m still on my side facing Tate and I let my eyes roam his body. You would think this car would be too fancy for us, more suited to a sophisticated couple like Brooke and Saxon, but my God, does Tate look so freaking hot in here.

  I realise it’s the first time I’ve seen him behind the wheel of a car, and I take a moment to enjoy the view. He leans back casually, his inked hand resting on the steering wheel while his other rests on his thigh. Reaching over, I link his fingers with mine. He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it before smiling softly down at me.

  I return his smile. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Daisy.”

  We drive for a while longer in our newfound comfortable silence. I enjoy watching him and think about how I’ve never been as content as I am since meeting Tate. The smallest thing, like watching him drive, brings me so much happiness it’s almost too much.

  “Nervous?” Tate asks, bringing me out of my daydream.

  “Well, now I am.” I mock scowl at him.

  “Sorry.” He laughs.

  “Are you?”

  “No.” His answer is confident but his voice is not and causes butterflies to shoot around my belly. I felt much more confident when I thought he was. Although, I was pretty sure I knew how it would go down, his self-assurance made me think maybe they would love him, well, tolerate him at least.

  The closer we get to my parents’ house, the more nervous I become. My stomach has become a mess of emotions, I am sweating profusely, and Tate keeps placing his hand on my thigh to keep it from bouncing.

  Harper is a little ball of nerves in the seat next to me, and I wish there was something I could do to help calm her down. I’m driving as fast as I can, hoping the sooner we get there, the sooner she can relax, but in all honesty, I’m not sure how this weekend is going to go.

  I’m normally a pretty confident person, and when I suggested this trip I was, too, but seriously, I have never met a girlfriend’s parents before. With Stacey, we were young and friends first, so I had always known her parents. There was no awkward meeting. No, ‘Hi, yes, I’m the one sleeping with your daughter, Minister.’

  Pulling up to the house Harper directs me to, I’m a little shocked. I knew she grew up in a country town, the minister’s daughter, but I didn’t comprehend the simple life she must have had. The house in front of us is plain. An old wooden-board home with a small porch, only big enough for the swing seat on it. Even though it’s old, it’s well looked after. The paint is all new and it looks well cared for, the gardens immaculate.

  I look across the seat as the back passenger door closes. I realise Harper’s not only exited the car, she’s also grabbed our bags and is now dragging them up the driveway. God, she’s adorable when she’s nervous. I don’t think she wa
s even this nervous when I first pursued her. It’s not the Harper I know. Funny how going home can change people so dramatically. Force them back to the children they once were.

  Jumping out of the car, I don’t bother to lock it. I mean, who’s going to steal a car from the minister’s driveway? Catching up to Harper, I pick up the bags. “Here, let me take those.”

  She drops them for me as she huffs. “Relax, baby.” I laugh. “Everything is going to be fine. We’re all grown-ups, and even if they don’t like me, we all know how to act like respectful adults.”

  “You’re right. I know you’re right.” She releases a deep breath and her shoulders drop.

  As we reach the porch steps, the front door creeps open, almost cautiously. An older woman steps into view, and she is exactly how I imagined. She has her light brown and grey hair tied up into a tight bun on the top of her head and wears a long brown skirt with a loose cream blouse. The perfect image of a minister’s wife.

  “Hi, Mum,” Harper says as she heads up the steps to greet her mother.

  “Hello, Harper Louise.” I raise my eyebrows at Harper’s mum’s use of her middle name, and Harper gives her mum a small smile before enveloping her in a hug.

  Her mum stands stiffly not reciprocating the embrace and her eyes meet mine over Harper’s shoulder. I step forward and smile at the older lady. “Hi, Mrs. Lindell.” I hold my hand out as she pulls out of Harper’s hold.

  “Please, call me Evelyn,” she says, not taking my hand. “Ted,” she calls. “Harper’s here.”

  Awkwardly, I pull my hand back and shove it in my pocket.

  “Harper.”

  “Hi, Daddy,” Harper greets him quietly.

  Harper’s dad steps around his wife and unlike her, steps straight up to me. “Hello, Son,” he says in a deep baritone.

  “Hi, Sir. It’s great to meet you.” I hold my hand out, and Harper’s dad shakes it. He is a tall man with strong facial features. He wears brown pants and a checked shirt with a brown woollen vest over it.

  “Mum, Dad, this is my boyfriend—Tate Washington,” Harper introduces me.

  “Please, Pastor Ted is fine.” Harper’s dad says, and I nod and smile as Harper shakes her head beside me.

  “Thank you so much for having me.” I look to Harper’s mum and notice her eyes flying up and down my arms. Fuck. In Harper’s rush to exit the car, I forgot to put my shirt on. Great first impression, Tate. I really didn’t want to scare them off with my tattoos until they had a chance to get to know me.

  Oh well, it’s all in, I guess.

  “Shall I take our bags to my room?” Harper asks her mother.

  “W . . . well, ummm . . .” her mother stutters.

  “Your mother has placed the cot in my office and Tate can sleep in there.”

  “Daddy,” she whines.

  “You know the rules, Harper Louise. What you do in the cesspit you call the city is up to you, but here things are still the same.”

  “It’s fine,” I interrupt, suddenly feeling like a sixteen-year-old boy. “It’s very kind of you to let me stay in your office, Sir. Thank you.”

  “Good, well come on then. Harper can show you to the office.” Harper’s mum steps back for us to enter.

  Picking up our bags, I follow Harper inside, stopping in the foyer as I look around the family home. Much like the outside, the inside is old and simple but well maintained. There are photos of Harper on every available wall and surface, and it doesn’t seem to me they are as disinterested in her as she makes out.

  The furniture is sparse and well worn. Her parents definitely only live with the bare necessities and I feel like a bit of a tool rocking up in that pretentious car.

  Harper heads down a hallway to the left of the entry, and I silently follow her. She opens a door, and I pop my head in and see a small room with a mahogany desk, a large bookshelf full of what look like textbooks, and an old blue leather couch.

  “This is the office.” Harper gestures to the room.

  “I figured.” I drop my bag on the cot already set up and head straight back out. With all the Jesus statues and crosses on the wall, this room is giving me the creeps.

  Harper continues down the hallway and I follow, stopping short when she opens another door, and I know instantly what I’m looking at. Harper’s childhood bedroom. Now this is the Harper I have come to know and love. The room is covered in her, and I’m more comfortable already just being in here.

  Harper steps into the room behind me and shuts the door. “So, this is my room.”

  “I can tell.” I smile at her.

  The small single bed is covered with a black and white quilt and sitting against a black feature wall.

  “I went through a Goth stage.” She smiles sheepishly.

  I smile widely at her and at the thought of a young and rebellious Harper. The walls are covered with posters of rock bands, and really, it’s not much different to my own room as a teenager. I love that even then, we were made for each other.

  Harper tilts her head at me and I stalk towards her, pulling her into my arms. I kiss her quick but hard. I love being here with her. Getting to know her on such a different level. I can tell she isn’t totally comfortable or happy here, but she brought me with her nonetheless.

  I’m holding Harper tight against me when her door opens, and Harper’s dad sticks his head in.

  “Door open,” he tells us before we hear his footsteps retreat back down the hallway.

  Harper and I both crack up laughing. “Oh, my God,” she groans.

  “You heard the minister, Harper Louise. Don’t be closing those doors and trying to feel me up.”

  “Shut up.” She hits my chest. “I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing you here.”

  “You were thinking about how much you love me and how much you want me a part of your life.”

  “Yeah, well, will you still love me at the end of the weekend?”

  “Even more, Daisy. More than I ever thought possible.”

  Harper and I find her parents sitting in the lounge room reading when we finally emerge from her room. We spent the best part of half an hour making out like teenagers in her ‘Goth’ teenage bedroom.

  “Dinner will be ready shortly.” Harper’s mum smiles up at us.

  “Great, I’m starved,” Harper says as she flops down onto the couch.

  Joining her on the couch, I place my arm around her shoulders. Looking up, my eyes meet Harper’s dad’s, and he’s glaring at my arm. I slide it off Harper and scoot over to the other end of the couch. Jeez, her father is actually a bit scary.

  “So, Tate, tell us about yourself. We hadn’t heard of you until Harper mentioned bringing you here.”

  “Daddy,” Harper scolds her father.

  “What? It’s the truth,” he responds bluntly. “Proverbs twelve-seventeen; ‘whoever speaks the truth gives honest evidence, but a false witness utters deceit.’”

  “I never lied,” Harper denies, somehow comprehending her father’s random scripture.

  “It’s fine.” I smile at Harper. Looking back to her dad, I straighten my shoulders. I’m a grown man, for fuck’s sake. “What would you like to know, Sir?”

  “What do you do? Tell me about your family?” He stares at my tattoos, and I can tell he wants to add ‘why have you done that to yourself’ but manners prevail with the good minister.

  “I own a café in the city, which has actually been passed down through my family. My grandfather opened it in the early fifties.”

  “Excellent. Family traditions are important.” He gives Harper a pointed stare. “Proverbs fifteen, twenty. ‘A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish man despises his mother.’” Harper huffs next to me and falls back into the couch. “So do your family all still work there with you?” His eyes return to mine.

  “Umm . . .” I pause, thrown off by the quick back and forth between Harper and her father. “No, actually, my parents died in a car accident when I was younger, and
my grandparents have recently passed as well.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Pastor Ted says, genuinely.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “So, Harper . . .” Pastor Ted aims his disapproving stare back at her. “Are you still living in that dump you call an apartment?”

  “Yes, Dad, I am. It’s not a dump. It’s a great price for an apartment directly in the city.”

  “Really? A better price than what you could get here?”

  “Dad,” Harper warns.

  “Ephesians six, one. ‘Children obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honour your father and mother that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on earth.’”

  “And what comes next, Daddy? Don’t stop there; what comes next?” Harper shifts forward to the edge of the couch, and I can see she is gearing up for a fight. “Ephesians six-four. ‘Fathers do not provoke your children to anger but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.’”

  “I did.” her father balks.

  “Well, then, you did your best and now I make my own choices.”

  “Joshua twenty-four, fifteen. ‘But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.’”

  “Matthew seven, one. ‘Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.’”

  My head flies between Harper and her father as they throw scripture after scripture at each other. She’s exasperated and I lean over and rub her thigh, hoping it will calm her little spitfire personality, but she’s not her normal self here. She’s not the Harper I’ve come to know and love. I hate that they make her feel that way. As if she can’t stand up for herself.

  “You need to be careful walking around the city, Harper Louise. All kinds of evil people are lurking everywhere.” Harper’s mum jumps in the conversation, calm as a cucumber, as if she didn’t just witness the bible bashing between them.