My eyes go wide as my stomach drops to the floor.
Holy smokes- This is Harry's stepfather.
The man turns towards me, and with a little nod adds, "And good evening to you as well Miss."
"Hello," I nervously chirp, rubbing my arm awkwardly. I feel as if my body's been turned to cold stone.
"So what exactly are you two up to out here?" he smiles, clearly aware of our misdeeds.
"Nothing," Harry quickly replies, shifting his weight between his feet.
"Is that so?" Harry's step-dad replies. The man is a bit round in the face, pleasantly so, his nose a bit wider than Harry's and his eyes a softer, less almond shaped. From Harry's embarrassment and sudden nerves, I can tell this is the man he really considers to be his father though.
"I mean," Harry coughs while looking at his shoes. He tucks his hands into his pockets as he seems to strategize, and I almost giggle at how cute he is when he's flustered. "Well, you see, we were just walking back home."
Harry's step-dad narrows his eyes at us and I swear he can practically smell the sin on us. He doesn't yell at us though, and instead just lets go of a big breath and waves us toward him.
"Well why don't I just take you two the rest of the way then?"
Harry looks over at me, before nodding, "Um, yea, okay."
Taking my hand in his, we walk in front of the green truck, and over to the opposite side door.
"You," he points at Harry with a laugh and then to the flatbed of the truck, "back there."
"I know, I know!" Harry calls back, rolling his eyes when his back's turned. A small laugh escapes my lips. I like seeing Harry interact with his step-dad. It's a new side to him, and I'm addicted to knowing more.
"Don't worry about a thing. He's good," he says quietly with a smile, opening the door for me.
I smile and nod nervously. I wanted to meet Harry's parents, but not when the thought of ripping their son's clothes off was so fresh in my head.
"Come on in, child," Harry's step-dad says gently, waving me in. I hop up quickly, but before I can turn to say something to Harry, the door is wailing a rusty creak as he shuts me in. In the review mirror, I watch, chuckling even, as Harry's lean legs swing into the back of the truck.
"He's a bit of a gangly thing isn't he," he laughs. I chuckle lightly and smile back at him, quite liking the rosy warmth of his laughter. He pauses for a moment staring at me, before jutting out his hand, "Robin."
"Hazel Chapman," I reply shaking his hand.
"An American gal?" he asks, putting the truck into drive.
"'Fraid so," I laugh lightly while staring at my hands. The truck moves quickly down the road hitting just a few bumps. I look back in the review mirror to see how Harry is, but I can only make out his long legs, crossed over each other.
"If you don't mind my asking," Robin interjects, "how does an American lady find herself in this part of the world?"
"My grandparents live here," I offer up. "I'm here to help out a bit." He smiles politely at my response, but turns back to the road.
"Lovely thing for a gal to do," he says, stroking his greying beard as his one hand steers the car. Robin nods politely, agreeing with himself, and keeping his eyes on the road.
A concerning silence falls on us as I struggle to come up with something to talk about. I don't understand how my mind seems to just run blanks when I meet new people, but it happens every time. However, my hatred of awkward silence always wins out, for better or for worse.
"So.." I start, not really knowing what there is to say. "I-I..I like your truck." My statement comes out a little bit too much like a question, but at least its something.
"Thank you, miss."
"I used to drive one of these. It made work a lot of fun."
Robin glances over at me, eyebrow raised. "What kind of work were you in?" He seems confused by my statement, but there's still a lighthearted tone to his question.
"I used to run deliveries for my father's store. I also used to help out my brother deliver papers to different stations for the paper boys to pick up."
"You don't say," he almost chuckles. "Didn't mind the clutch? This one always gives me trouble."
"My father and brother did some work on it to fix that. They tried to explain it to me, but I was too busy speeding off," I laugh lightly. Robin lets a hearty chuckle, and I can feel my tense body finally easing into the seat.
"My wife's that way. Lead foot," he throws me a loving side-eye and I can't help but laugh, "but don't tell her I said that. She thinks I'm the bad driver."
"I think it's grand she drives. My mother's petrified."
"Not much scares my Anne," he smiles at me in the mirror. "She's my daredevil."
We hit a fairly large pothole, shaking the entire car. A muffled "Oi!" comes from the back and I burst out into giggles.
"Is he okay? I could find a way to make room," I offer, turning around to try and see if Harry is okay.
"I think it's probably for the best he gets some cool air," he turns and winks at me. I immediately turn forward, my mouth run dry from nerves.
"So.." his voice trails, "You were at that big party with Harry then? How'd you two make out?" My stomach lurches momentarily at his choice of words.
"Oh," I squeak. I take a moment to clear my throat and lower the register of my guilt ridden voice. "It was just dandy. Very nice affair, although I suppose I'm more of a quiet night kind of person."
"Your grandparents- they're friends of Mr. and Mrs. Williams?"
"Actually," I clear my throat again, trying to judge whether or not Harry would want me to say, "they, um, they are Mr. and Mrs. Williams."
Robin turns to look at me and I flash a nervous and guilt ridden smile at him. He nods with a polite smile, but from his furrowed brow I know he's got thoughts on this one. Before panic can fully set in, we hit another ditch in the road.
"You're doing that on purpose!" A muffled yell comes from the back. I catch a glimpse of mischief in Robin's eyes as he looks in the rearview mirror at Harry. Is he doing that on purpose?
"Um, are you sure he is really alright back there?" I squeak.
"Well if he doesn't make it, we'll have an extra bed for you tonight," he says dryly. A shocked laugh sputters out from my mouth, and I quickly cover it with my hands. He turns to face me, the corner of his mouth tugged into a small smile, and adds, "Not to worry, he won't suffer much longer. We're here."
I duck my head slightly so I can see through the window. As we pull up onto a long dirt drive, the headlights light up a quaint, white farmhouse. A simple two story home with a thick green ivy, it almost reminds me of home, but the stones lining a front garden are decidedly English. Thick smoke plumes from the chimney while a warm yellow light emanates from the downstairs windows making the house truly feel like a home. Something I can't always say about Gran and Grandfather's house.
We drive about halfway up the path when Robin puts the car in park. "I'm going to let you and Harry get out here. I've got some things to drop off in the barn and set up."
"Oh, sure," I smile. The truck wobbles and creaks slightly as Harry tries to jump out the back. I look down at my hands, not sure what to say to him, but desperately wanting to make good with Harry's dad.
"Mr-?"
"No, no, Just Robin is fine."
"Robin," I ask quietly. He shifts in his seat, the old leather of the bench creaking ever so slightly. "I just wanted to say thank you ever so much for driving us and letting me visit your home at this hour. It's more than understandable if you'd prefer I go home."
I stare wide-eyed and hopeful at the man who Harry cares so much about.
His features soften as he scrunches his nose, and I smile knowing I've seen that mannerism before.
"It's mighty fine to have you visit Ms. Chapman," he says earnestly. He ducks his head to check on Harry, who seems to have gotten his coat stuck on the side of the truck. We both laugh a little before he continues. "Don't tell him I told you," he lowers his voice, "but we've never had Harry bring a gal around. You'll have to forgive us if we're a bit funny old twits tonight."
My heart begins to beat in double-time. Harry is the definition of a catch. How I ended up being his first anything is both astounding and exhilarating.
"Mums the word you hear?" he tells me sternly. I nod fervently, still a nervous nelly, but smile when Robin breaks into a pleasant and kind laugh.
Just then I hear a loud shuffle as Harry breaks free from the truck. The door quickly rips open, and I burst out laughing as Harry stares breathlessly at me, wide eyed with the pinkest of cheeks.
"Good?" Harry asks nervously, still catching his breath.
"Wonderful," I reply, smiling up at him calmly as I hop out of the truck. "Thanks again," I wave back to Robin. He gives me a little wink as Harry reaches around shuts the door. The truck continues up the road towards a large barn, where I can already make out a few chickens roaming about aimlessly.
I twist around to watch Harry follow the truck up the path with his eyes. His angular cheek bones seems sharper under the moonlight and his flushed complexion, his eyes crinkled with the slightest of worry lines.
"You good, lad?" I laugh. He shakes out his body like an excited puppy, before looking down at me, eyebrows stitched together.
"Oh yea, I'm fine," he lies.
I raise an eyebrow at him. "You sure?"
"I'm just sorry for the surprise," he nervously chuckles. "He was good, yea?"
His accent somehow seems thicker under his worried tone, and I can't help and stare at the wonderful way his deep pink lips curve as he smiles curiously at me. I have to mentally remind myself that I'm in front of his mother's home to quench the rising fire inside me.
"He's lovely, Harry. Not to worry," I tell him.
Harry lets out a heavy breath and his shoulder seem to drop half a foot. "Good," he smiles, his eyes alight with excitement. "Come on, I'll show you in."
With that Harry takes my hand and together we walk towards the house. My stomach is a tied up like a bouquet of butterflies, but with Harry by my side, I don't feel even half as nervous as I did throughout Gran's party.
We step up to the front of the house, shielded from the moonlight under the archway of the black wooden door. The murmur of music and laughter softly floats through the closed windows and heavy walls of the house, a warmhearted sound I haven't heard since leaving New York.
Harry reaches out and places his hand on the handle. He pauses for a moment, tilting his face back to mine, "Ready?"
"Ready," I smile back. He lets go of a nervous breath as he nods excitedly, like he's trying to convince himself more than he is me. I bite my lip staring up at him, and for a split second, I wonder what it would be like to walk into a house that both Harry and I shared. I toss my head quickly, though, shoving the weirdly intense thought from my mind, and push Harry gently forwards so we can get out of the cold and into the warmth of his home and heart.
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Author's Note:
Hello! Hope you're enjoying it so far :) Love to you all!