Who Am I (A Jai Courtney Fanfic) Book 2

Chapter 36-Meg

Meg

We go to leave after spending much of the day visiting his parents and Karen accompanies us to the door asking Jai what he was taking home besides his birthday gift. He steps aside with her and whispers in her ear.
"You beauty!" she says excitedly and she kisses his cheek and hugs him. He looks happy, too. He glances up at me and smiles.
His mom comes over and hugs me, too, saying goodbye.
"We'll have to come visit again soon," I tell her.
She smiles at me and nods. But I notice she's so overcome that she's having trouble speaking. He must've said something special to her. He does have that exceptional ability to render me speechless, too.
We wave and head out.
"I think my mum loves you," he whispers to me.
"And I love them both, too," I reply.
He stops and looks me in the eye. I don't know this expression from him but I think me telling him that means a lot to him. He hugs me and kisses my cheek. Then grasping my hand he helps me into his car. He drives us home and he asks if I want to go out tonight or stay home.
"Well, what are our plans tomorrow?" I ask.
"We're invited to a barbie with one of my mates, so... late arvo to evening," he shrugs.
"We could go out if you want, but I doubt I'll be able to stay up very late," I admit.
"Tea?" he asks.
"Sure," I nod.
We return to his home to change.  I ask what I should wear and he says he'll take me to a nicer place.  I dress up a bit—kind of between dressy and dress casual.  I want to wear some comfortable shoes.  I put on a maroon dress since I remember that it's fall here.  It's kind of a short sleeved dress.  It's almost like a t-shirt dress but it has a gathered section covering from the waist to the thigh—one long section on one side and then another smaller section on the opposite side.  I tie the two pieces together and this does look really good on me.  I drew it and my mom helped me come up with the concept of how to make it.  Plus, the material was only $5 on the clearance rack. 
I decide to let my hair down and put on some eyeshadow and a lipstick that corresponds to the shade of my dress. It's not too dark, though. I add a little mascara and that's probably enough.  I start to put my clothes away into the closet and drawers when Jai knocks on my opened door. 
"You look good," he grins. 
"You like my five dollar dress?" I laugh. 
"No way that was five dollars.  Maybe five hundred," he guffaws. 
"The fabric was in a clearance bin," I shrug.  "My mom helped me figure out how to make this part," I say motioning to the tie. 
"Oh, I see... bargain fabric and days of sewing," he nods. 
"More like an hour or two," I shrug. 
"Maybe you really should get into fashion design, love.  That's unbelievable," he tells me. 
I smile at the compliment.  He steps in the room and takes my hand, turning me around. 
"Yeah, you should make more of these," he suggests.  I kiss his lips gently.  He moves in closer and holds me.  But then releases me after a moment.
"You ready?" he asks. 
"I need shoes," I say motioning to my feet. 
"Yeah, it might be difficult walking the CBD barefoot," he nods. 
I slip on my black Mary Jane sketchers.  They have pinstripes and a large button on each side. 
"Those are cute," Jai comments. 
"Thanks," I smile.  I'm almost tempted to tell him I've been told they look low-class but I don't think he wants to hear about Spencer.  Maybe I should just try to forget him but a thought occurs to me. 
"I need to check something," I mumble.  I grab my phone and search my hometown newspaper articles.  I look through the arts & entertainment sections for several days and I see his name under the title as the author of my art review. 
"What is he doing?" I question under my breath. 
"What's that, love?" Jai asks. 
I surrender my phone to him and he looks over the article. 
"What made you think to look at this now?" he asks confused. 
"You complimented my shoes.  It made me think of how he insulted them... then I wondered why there was an article written about me in his paper, in his section.  It's rare for him to write them anymore.  He usually edits.  Sorry, my mind just went off on a tangent...," I apologize trailing off. 
"Do you often think about him?" Jai asks worriedly. 
I bite my lip and he nods.  He's upset and concerned.
"It's not what you think," I tell him gently reaching for his hand in comfort.
"What is it then?" he asks softly.  He looks hurt. 
I sigh and explain.  "The first morning I made you eggs, you complimented them.  He insulted me and said he preferred his chef to my cooking.  We went to the museum and played on the swing together.  I asked him to go with me before and he told me to grow up.  That's the difference.  You care about me, compliment me, and don't make me feel inadequate. He always insulted me or treated me like a child.  I never loved him... but I love you," I explain. 
He meets my eyes and I see that he understands. 
"So what you're saying is... is that you have self-esteem issues from his treatment of you for the last four years?" he confirms and I realize he's probably right. 
I slowly nod in agreement realizing that it's true.  "I'm not accustomed to the compliments from anyone but family.  I really appreciate them," I tell him softly. 
He moves forward and kisses me.  I hold onto him and there's such passion in his kiss.  He moves even closer to me causing me to lean back a little. I end up fall onto my bed sitting down. 
"I think we should leave or I might do something foolish," Jai whispers. 
"Alright," I rise with the lift of his hand.  I realize my parents were right, with the temptation.  It's mostly him that's struggling but it's obvious it's there. 
I grab my purse and we head out.  I pray for strength for him in this and remind myself that we shouldn't go in each other's rooms. 
He drives me around in his fancy muscle car.  I saw a motorcycle in his garage, too.  His choices in vehicles are very masculine.  I also like that his car is shiny blue. 
"Did you pick this car just for me?" I tease. 
"I thought you might like it," he grins. 
"I do," I nod.  "So where are we going?"
"Into town," he says. 
"Downtown?" I question.  He nods.  I smile. 
"I should've brought my camera," I tell him.  "But I don't have any film so I'd have to use the digital only."
"We can get you some film," he says.  "I would think there's got to be a place in the CBD that carries it."
"I'd need negative processing chemicals as well, though.  I don't trust the US airport security to not ruin my film.  They'd probably open my lead bag and X-ray it anyway... but I'd need a darkroom, too, if I buy certain films," I explain. 
"I've got a theater with a wet bar.  Will that work?" he asks. 
I blink in surprise. 
"Where is this?" I question. 
"Ground floor next to the laundry," he says. 
I smile.  "Alright," I grin happily. 
"Why don't you look for a place while we drive?" he suggests. 
"Do you want me to get car sick?" I chuckle teasingly. 
"You really get car sick?" he asks surprised. 
"If I'm not looking out the window I do.  I can't read or anything," I admit. 
"No films during the flight?" he questions. 
"I've tried.  It always makes me more nauseous," I explain.
"Maybe you need to take a motion sickness medicine, love," he suggests. 
"Maybe I could try that on the flight back," I shrug. 
I listen as he sets a reminder on his phone for that.  I smile at how considerate he is to me and my heart constricts at that and my thoughts wander back to meeting his parents.  He's never brought someone home before.  I don't understand.  I assumed he'd been in long, serious relationships in the past but he never really introduced them to his mother. 
I fix my attention as we drive towards downtown.  It's beautiful, like a real city.  It's reminiscent of what I imagine New York to be like, yet not as big... and it looks very polished.  It actually reminds me of Tokyo—the cleanliness, modernness, and beauty. 
Jai parks in a parking garage and we climb out of his car.  He puts a hand around my waist as we walk out onto the street.  It is a bustling city and I look around at the tall skyscrapers towering over us and the people walking everywhere.  I notice that they walk on the opposite side of the sidewalk than we do in the US.  I smile at that and keep close to Jai since there's heavy foot traffic for a Friday evening. 
We stop at a crosswalk and someone recognizes Jai.  He talks with them as usual and takes a few pictures.  So far, his countrymen seem to behave better than some of those from the US in general. They notice the placement of his hand on me and he introduces me.  They smile and are rather friendly towards me.  The light changes and we move on. 
We walk further through what I would assume is a business district and I start to see clothing stores and areas for people to sit on the street—like a recessed staircase in the ground.  We pass through that area and then there's music playing somewhere.  I notice lots of greenery and plant life in large raised beds, some massive baskets are hanging from light fixtures.  We pass a fountain and I almost want to stop and admire the view but we press on and I realize I'm glad I wore these shoes and not heels. 
We keep walking but I observe some people off to the side.  They look confused and lost.  I hear that they're speaking Japanese and they both have cameras—sightseeing. 
"Jai, wait," I say patting his arm. "Sumimasen," I call out to them as I approach.  I ask them if they're lost.  They affirm that they are so I ask them where they're going. 
"Do you know where the art museum is?" I inquire of Jai. 
He looks up to where we are in relation to the buildings.
"Um... maybe three blocks down and take a left," he tells me. 
I start to translate but then... "I don't know blocks," I mumble to myself, so I change it to streets.  I make sure to tell them it's about that far since Jai wasn't exactly certain and blocks might be different than streets in the counting.
"Hai, sou?" the gentleman confirms. 
I nod and smile, "Sou desu ne."
"Arigatou gozaimasu," they both say bowing and smiling. 
"Dou itashimashite," I reply smiling and also bowing.
They continue bowing once more and walk in the proper direction.  I look to Jai and he's staring at me.  "Are you hungry?" I smile. 
"Yeah," he says shaking his head.  We start walking again.  "That was bloody nice of you.  Impressive, too."
I laugh.  "I'm incredibly rusty and I think I made some mistakes."
"I doubt that," he says disbelievingly. 
"It's a tough language.  It's all in the pronunciation and accent.  Sometimes there is an emphasis on different parts of what sounds to be the same word," I explain. 
"For example?" he inquires. 
"Cloud and spider.  They are both pronounced kumo.  But one has emphasis on the u, the other the o and I never get it right," I say.
"That's a technicality that I think few people would care about.  If you're trying, I'd think most people would understand," he says soothingly.  "I know they appreciated you helping."
"Yeah, they did," I admit.  Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on myself. They were genuinely thankful whether or not my accent was off or I mispronounced a few words. They did understand me clearly.
We stop at the restaurant and it looks a little busy.  We step in and Jai gives his name.  They tell us it'll be a few more minutes.  It looks like he made a reservation since they didn't write him in, just pointed at their list.  We actually only do wait briefly before we're taken in. 
We sit down at a table in the back.  It's less busy and quieter here.  We're given our menus and I have no idea what most things are but I actually do see blood sausage on the menu.  I look to Jai to see he's already watching me. 
"Would you order for me?" I request. 
He smiles, "Of course, love."
"No blood sausage, though.  I'll admit I won't eat that," I laugh lightly. 
"I figured.  It's not my favorite either," he smiles. 
He orders us a set menu that I didn't notice on the next page but I have to surrender my menu before I get a chance to look it over. 
Jai reaches for both of my hands and we sit at the table in silence.  He stares at me and is rather quiet for him. 
"Still tired?" I ask. 
"A little.  I should be good for a while.  I'll probably be out by nine though," he tells me. 
"I'm sure I will, too," I admit smiling.  "You want me to look for a photo shop?" I ask. 
"Sure," he grins. 
I pull out my phone and do a search.  I find a couple places but they look like they're just for processing and I think I'll have someone do my color ones since that doesn't really make much of a difference.  I can't seem to find a standing store for supplies.  It all looks like it's mail order.  I bite my lip. 
"I'm not seeing anything," I admit.  
"Really?" he asks surprised. 
"Maybe I'm just not doing the right searches.  It is kind of a dead art form," I shrug.  "There's mail order."
"You could call a couple places," he suggests.  "You just need film, right?  I remember the printing houses used to sell film, too."
I nod.  "You're right. They did.  Maybe I could just order my chemistry."
He laughs.
"What?" I ask. 
"You make it sound like you're a chemist or a pharmacist," he grins. 
"Well, it is measuring and mixing chemicals.  Except mine aren't edible or topical," I laugh lightly. 
His smile widens. 
"So... I asked my sister if she wanted to do anything while we were in town.  She offered to go to the beach with us on Sunday.  I told her after church would be best," he tells me. 
"That sounds really nice. I can't wait to meet her," I smile. He stays quiet so I change the subject.  "I've never been to Hillsong.  There are a few in the states but not in my area.  Bethel isn't either.  There are some Vineyard Churches spread out in Ohio, though.  Most others that I know of are small," I ramble on trying to make small talk since he's been quiet and I'm not really sure why.
"Bethel like the band?" he asks. 
"Yeah.  They're all big churches with several locations.  The Vineyard has good worship music but it's not as mainstream anymore," I tell him. 
"Lots of wine and grape cultivation metaphors in the Bible," he comments. 
"That was the culture.  They drank water and wine, maybe fresh milk," I mention nodding.  "That's probably about it, I would think. So what's your sister like?  You haven't really mentioned her much."
He shrugs, "She looks like my mum.  She's outgoing.  We always joke around and argue."
"What about her fiancé?" I ask since he's answering.
"Well, at least he committed," he shrugs.  "I like him better than the others."
He stays quiet after that so I don't push the subject anymore even though I'm incredibly curious.  I'll meet them in two days. 
He kisses the back of my hand and I smile at him.  I see something pass by on a plate that catches my eye and I wonder what that was so I ask him. 
"That's a bay bug," he tells me. 
"What in the world is that?" I laugh. 
"It kind of like a lobster," he shrugs. 
"I've never heard of these before," I say intrigued.  I look it up on my phone.  "It looks like a cross between a lobster and a trilobite."
He laughs lightly.  "Did you want one?  I didn't order that for you.  I didn't know if you'd like it," he tells me. 
"I don't know.  I'll have to think about it," I admit. 
Our dinner arrives and I thank the staff.  It's actually in several courses and looks incredible.  I'm not sure what everything is but I trust that Jai got what he thought I'd like.  We enjoy the meal together and he's talking more.  I'm not sure why he's so quiet about his family.  I was happy to meet them today.  I like them both—his mother is outgoing and talkative while his dad really likes to chat about sports and fishing.  They're like my parents, so no problems. 
I continue on my meal trying roasted oysters in their shells, which I've never had before—only fried.  They're good.  The seasoning isn't what I'm used to but it's nice.  There's some sort of a bread with a cream on it and salmon roe. We're served some kind of steak and prawns along with a vegetable medley. It's all artistic almost in appearance and arranged to be quite lovely. Everything is on separate plates like in Japan and we share. It's nice but a thought occurs to me and I'm surprised Jai has gotten all this seafood when he's not a fan... but then I remember, this is his home cuisine and I understand now.  He eats it here and not really elsewhere since there's a different variety of choices. 
"So... one of my Australian friends was telling me how he liked all the seafood in Japan.  He said his area was famous for beef and mentioned he could go the rest of his life without eating it again," I say. 
He laughs, "He's probably from Rockhampton or nearby."
"Where's that?" I ask. 
"Queensland.  It's the state above us," he mentions and he shows me a tattoo on his wrist. 
"Is that the initials?" I inquire. 
He nods. 
"Sports team fan?" I question. 
He shakes his head trying to hold back a smile. 
"So why do you have this?" I inquire. 
"I lost a bet," he admits.
I laugh at the ridiculousness of it. 
"So what about the rest?" I ask. 
And he tells me about them.  Each one has a story.  I find out one was a drawing from his friend's six year old—his goddaughter.  I smile at how sweet he really is with kids.  And then a thought crosses my mind... and I have to stop myself from thinking like that and listen to him.  I lean closer and kiss him when he finishes his story. 
"So what about you?" he asks.
"What about me?" I question. 
"Any tattoos?" he inquires. 
"No," I shake my head. 
"Are you thinking about getting any?" he questions. 
"No," I reply. 
"Why not?" he questions. 
"It's just not my thing.  You know I'm half Jewish, right?" I say. 
"What does that have to do with anything?" he asks intrigued. 
"Are you familiar with the tattoos from concentration camps," I say motioning to the placement on my bare arm.  He nods.  "Those were to keep track of them, and I think they may have done it to shame them. But they definitely didn't respect their culture.  Someone with a tattoo couldn't be buried in a Jewish cemetery.  I believe they made exceptions later on for those particular ones. It was in the laws in the Old Testament not to get tattoos because the Canaanites did.  The rule was to set them apart because others did it for religious purposes—in worship of false gods—Canaanite gods.  But they also couldn't eat pork and other particular foods.  When Jesus died, some of those minor differences were kind of made acceptable as long as our heart and worship was in the right place, you know?  But me personally, I just don't think I'll ever get one.  My bubbie ingraining in me that I shouldn't may be part of it... but it's just not something I want for myself.  It's the same with clothes.  I'm not comfortable exposing certain areas like other women so I don't," I elaborate. 
He frowns and nods. 
"I haven't offended you, have I?" I question.  "It's not my intention to.  I don't mind yours at all.  I actually find them fascinating."
He smiles and looks to me... and he's the one to lean in and capture my lips with his.