Events || Harry Styles

058

"Bloody flirt." He snuck a heavy look my way. "But, seriously, you don't have to apologize for your mum."

I knew I had nothing to worry about and my warnings to him weren't all that necessary. I couldn't imagine him being anything other than civil and maintaining a cool composure.

How naive I was to think that a little speech in preparation would do any good compared to facing the real thing.

"Leonora."

"Hi, Mom."

She lifted a hair thin brow at Harry standing beside me on the doorstep. I'd texted her yesterday and told her he was coming with me so his arrival wasn't a surprise. It was also worth noting that she'd never met a boyfriend of mine before. Perhaps that was partly what the critical look was for.

"This is Harry. Harry, this is my mom, Lia."

My mom didn't offer a hand to shake, and nor did Harry. My eyes were glued to her as she gave him a once over paired with a tight smile—one that was quite similar to Harry's one of discomfort. He definitely was picking up on the chilly vibes between her and I.

"The boyfriend, right?"

Come on, Mom.

"Yes, my boyfriend."

"It's nice to meet you," Harry broke the ice. "I haven't yet seen the inside, but you have a lovely home from the outside."

Okay...good...good...

Mom's eyes flitted from me, to Harry, then back to me, before she said, "Thank you...Harry." She moved to the side, granting us the privilege to enter the premises of my childhood home I lived in for 18 years. "Come in. Ian's out grilling."

We weren't staying the night here. That was something I assured my mom of right in the very beginning. I didn't want to face the conversation between her and I about how "my room" was turned into an office, or a gym, or whatever else she and Ian had dreamt up. We were staying in the one hotel my town had instead. For now, we'd share dinner with Mom and Ian, then see them again in the morning for the funeral before heading back to LA.

We followed Mom inside and trailed behind her as she walked through the entryway and towards the back door. She hadn't even offered to show Harry around the house.

I curled my hand around his bicep as we walked, offering some semblance of an apology for her behavior. He kissed the side of my head, wordlessly reminding me that an apology wasn't necessary.

"Norah! How are you, girl? How are you feeling?" Ian's words still held an excited tone, but was lacking that cheerful lilt. A reminder that Doreen had passed. 

He was in front of the barbecue, tongs in hand, flipping burgers, and wearing an apron. Total Dad look—not that I had any knowledge of the sort.

I broke apart from Harry a moment to give him a big hug. "I'm alright. Feeling good. Are you doing okay?"

"I'll get there. Thanks for asking," he responded, smiling sadly. He looked over my shoulder. "This Harry?"

"Yep."

Ian dropped the tongs to hang on the grill and offered Harry a hand. "Ian."

"Harry. Thanks for having us tonight. Smells amazing."

After shaking hands, Ian wagged a finger at him. "Cool accent. I've heard some of your stuff, you know."

Harry's eyebrows shot up and the smile on his face turned from polite to genuine. "Yeah? Any good?"