Page 26 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
“I’m looking forward to Christmas dinner with them. I’m going to forget everything else for the day.” I knew he knew I meant that I didn’t want talk of my failed business and dire financial situation, which would ruin the day.
“Stay in the bubble out of time?”
I snapped my eyes to his. “Yes. How did you—”
He laughed mildly. “You think you’re the only one experiencing it?”
“As long as we agree not to talk about my pauperism.”
“Is that a real word?” He grinned and pulled me in. “Don’t worry. We can preserve the bubble a while longer. Until you’re feeling more like yourself.”
I heard his unspoken, but implied addendum ofwhoever that is. As if I had a choice.
I knew who I was and I was still most definitely not her yet. That was my thought as nerves struck again when he turned onto the street of my childhood home. I didn’t know how to feel. Nostalgic? Happy to be home? Nervous that I was bringing Lucas, an almost-stranger, to meet my parents? Like a fraud?
None of those things compared to the one overriding feeling of failure.
As we drove down the side street lined with bare trees, small snow-covered lawns, and twin rows of Cape Cod houses, it struck me that for onceI wasn’t embarrassed about my modest home. Lucas was an Uber driver. Then shame struck me twice as hard. Shame that I thought less of him and less of my parents. None of them deserved my pity or disdain. Who was I?WasI too obsessed with success, money and material things?
Yes.
The answer was a resounding yes, I was obsessed. I felt an unavoidable need to be successful to live up to the promise of the monetary and genetic inheritance of my birth family. Money and material things were the indisputable measure of that success.
But that was who I was and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, was there?
* * *
When we arrivedand my mother answered the door, my chest tightened. When my instinct was to give her a hug, she stepped back graciously and invited us inside. My nerves ratcheted up so that I thought I ought to keep my gloves on to hide my perspiring palms. My dad was right there waiting as we took off our coats and I introduced Lucas. I only stumbled for a millisecond when I realized I still didn’t know his last name. But Lucas being who he was, impeccably well-mannered and charming, jumped in.
“It’s a wonderful pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper. I appreciate you opening up your home and allowing me to stay for dinner. It’s a treat for me to enjoy a family holiday.”
“Oh my. The treat is ours,” my mother said and the thing was, I knew she meant it. In that instant, I felt at home, the reminder of the loving kindness trumping all the nerves and turmoil, and allowing me to stay in that timeless bubble.
