Resist Me Not

22

After hanging out around the kitchen for over an hour, catching up with my parents, my dad had to get back to work at the marina. He invited us to go along with him so that we could have a late lunch at the restaurant on the beach. Even though I still wanted to get Eric alone, I knew we had time, so we agreed to go, but insisted we take separate cars. Just in case.

Before we left, Eric finally changed into much more suitable attire. He wore a pair of bourbon colored cargo shorts, with a blue and white striped polo, and tan flip flops that matched mine. He always knew how to dress well, even when he dressed down. It was one of the traits I loved most about him. Though I had wished he chose to wear a shirt that would be easier to remove, I knew it wouldn't be hard to pull it off, if needed.

My mom drove with me in the convertible, while Eric rode with my dad in the truck. My dad was hell-on-wheels when it came to driving, and it freaked Eric out every time. But he never wanted to be rude and say no to him.

My mom was doing her best to hold her waving hair with her hand, but the wind speed kept releasing most of it out of her grasp. "Could you please raise the top? You know how much I hate convertibles."

"Come on, Mom! Live a little! I've been trapped in the cold of New York City for too long. I need to soak up as much Florida heat as I can so I can survive up there another six months." I laughed at my own joke. "Here, does this help?" I rolled up the windows so that the air now mostly blew over the top of our heads.

"A little," she huffed. "Give me your hair-tie, will you?" She held out her hand to me.

"But I'm wearing it, and I don't have an extra one."

"Is this how you treat your own mother?" She gave me her best, disappointed look. Even though I knew she was just faking it to get her way, I still caved. I pulled off my hair tie and handed it to her. She grinned victoriously and proceeded to put her own hair up. "Oh, I almost forgot to mention! Aunt Gloria and Aunt Sharon both got their invitations the other week, and they kept going on and on about how darling they looked."

"Aren't they? Sasha helped pick the borders and font."

My dad was far ahead of us now, and I sped up some to try to keep up but got stopped by a red light. I had to slam on the breaks, which I knew my mom hated. She braced her hands against the dashboard and looked at me with a more authentic look of disappointment. I apologized and promised to not rush anymore as the light turned green again.

"How is Sasha? And Becca?" My mom asked casually.

"They're doing great! They're enjoying their married life to the fullest."

"You'll get there soon enough." My mom reached over and patted me lightly on my shoulder. "The next four months may seem like an eternity right now, but before you know it, you'll be hearing those wedding bells loud and clear."

I gave my mom a tight grin. Four months? Was I going to be ready to decide my fate in the next four months? Was I going to be prepared to walk down the aisle in that beautiful Gothic-style church, wearing that perfect wedding dress I bought? "I can't wait."

I pulled into the parking space next to my dad's truck. He and Eric were already out by the entrance of the marina, chatting and waiting for our arrival. Eric came to my mother's door and opened it for her.

"Why, thank you, Eric!" She cupped her hand on his face. "Your mother has raised you right."

"Thank you, Betty." Eric was never allowed to call my parents by their last name.

Eric then proceeded to come over to my side, though I had already gotten out of the car on my own, he reached out his hand for me to take. He laced his fingers with mine and followed my parents down the boardwalk to the restaurant's entrance. My father made sure we were seated at the table with the best view, before excusing himself to go back to his office.