I've never been a nervous passenger. Or at least, I had never been a nervous passenger until this evening. The fact that Daniel was driving didn't bother me. No, it was the complete lack of concentration he paid to his driving that had me on edge. For the entire drive out of London and to Surrey, I held my head in my hands, my eyes firmly shut as I prayed to every deity for a safe journey. Daniel, meanwhile, swerved across lanes as he objected to the outfit I had forced him to wear.
After yesterday's conversation, I had made sure that he didn't turn up at my parents' house in a suit. I know he thought that it would be disrespectful, but if my father saw Daniel look so formal when the dinner was informal, Dad would take the piss out of Daniel. In a way, I was doing Daniel a favour by throwing a pair of jeans and a shirt in his direction. The blue of his shirt really brought out the colour of his eyes.
And it's not like I was dressed up in my skinny jeans, knitted sweater, and sneakers. I didn't even bother putting on makeup or styling my hair because I wasn't trying to impress anyone. Just like Daniel shouldn't have to impress anyone. No matter how many time I tell him that he doesn't need to win my parents' approval because he already has it, Daniel simply wouldn't listen.
Hopefully, after this dinner, he will finally realise that Mum and Dad already adored him as much as I do. Yes, Daniel and my mother have had their disagreements, but that was mainly based on misunderstanding and these days, Mum thinks of Daniel as if he's already one of the family. Dad, on the other hand, has always liked Daniel and had never gotten involved in the drama Daniel and I have been through. I think Dad was glad that, finally, with his daughters marrying, he and Lucas would no longer be outnumbered by the women in the family.
All this, however, is dependent on Daniel getting us to my family's house alive, which is proving to be a hell of a task. Luckily, we were ever nearer to our destination, but the downside of this was that Daniel's driving deteriorated. As he swerved back into our lane, I gasped from the pain of the seatbelt digging into my shoulder as I jerked sideways. Chancing a look upwards, I quickly familiarise myself with where we are and sigh.
Only a few streets to go.
My family's home was located down a secluded road in one of the wealthiest parts of Surrey. The house was modern and very much designed in my mother's minimalistic taste. Daniel, for that reason, should like the place a lot, despite the fact that he'd have to have dinner here with my folks.
"Do you think they'll like the wine I picked?" Daniel asked, not for the first time. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he followed my hand gesture and indicated to turn. Rolling his shoulders, Daniel peered out the window and squinted to make out the surrounds. It was already dark, but I knew this road like the back of my hand. "Where are we now?"
"Almost there," I promise. "Another three hundred yards and then it's the entrance on the right-hand side."
Even thought Daniel had briefly been to my parents' house before, his recollection of the directions was shoddy. That said, he was soon driving up the long driveway that would finally bring us to the end of this death-defying journey.
"Thank God," I mutter to myself as I unbuckle the seatbelt and practically throw myself out of the car. Not caring enough to wait for Daniel, I jog the distance to the front door and push it open. "We're here! Alive, too, might I add!"
"Ha bloody ha," Daniel's gruff voice spoke from behind me. I levelled a look on him that told him not to argue with me on this point and then pointed to the coat cupboard where he could hang up his jacket. Taking mine off, I handed it to Daniel and then kicked off my shoes. Daniel frowned. "Why are you taking your shoes off?"
"Because I'm making myself at home," I answer, shaking my head slightly in amusement. "You can take yours off, too."
It took a few minutes of deliberation but eventually, Daniel positioned his shoes next to mine before venturing barefooted further into the house. As we made our way to the kitchen, following the smell of the food, I pointed out a few rooms and waited for Daniel to catch up as he stopped to look at the various photos on the wall. One he found particularly amusing was a family photo where Charlotte, Emme and I were all dressed identically. Poor Lucas was also similarly dressed, making him look more like a girl than a boy.
"When I next see your brother, I am so mentioning this photo to him," Daniel promises.
I laugh, but say nothing, instead taking the lead as we finally enter the kitchen area. The smell in here was amazing, making my mouth water as I familiarised myself with the different aromas of each spice and herb that made up my mother's secret recipe. Mum, like her brothers, is an amazing chef. Just don't ask her for recipes because her style of cooking is to throw everything into a pot, put it in the over for a few hours, and hope that it tastes delicious. So far, she's never failed to produce anything less than delectable.
"Hi," I greet my parents, both of whom are stood around, putting the final touches to the table decorations. The plates had been set, and from the looks of it, we were about to devour a four-course meal. There was a large plate, topped with a smaller plate, and a bowl to finish the stack. A soup spoon was placed on the table, along with cutlery for a starter dish and a main, and then a dessert spoon and fork was placed perpendicular to the other utensils. Water glasses and wine glasses adorned the table, as well as a candle as a centrepiece. I frowned as I counted the number of settings. "Why is there six place settings?"
My answer didn't come from either of my parents, but instead from the noise of Charlotte arguing with someone that sounded very much like my brother. The pair burst into the kitchen via the boot room, each looking a little dishevelled as they shouted over one another.
Charlotte was furious about something, her hands gesticulating wildly as they yelled at each other in French. I kept up with most of the shouting, but it was hard when the two of them seemed to be battling for the Loudest Voice Award. My eyes, however, were fixed on Lucas and the way that words tumbled from his lips fluidly. Ever since his transplant, Lucas has been gaining confidence is utilising his voice, no longer needing an oxygen tank to sustain him when he spoke.
"I think I preferred you when you were gasping for air," Charlotte told him as she threw up her hands in a gesture that we all knew indicated that she was giving up the fight. Lucas beamed. "Oh, take that smirk off your face."
"No, I'm good, thanks," Lucas said, folding his arms over his puffed out chest. Oh, yeah, this boy has most definitely found his confidence. My brother shook his head and moved to make his way to the table, stopping in his tracks when he saw Daniel and I. Suddenly, his confidence disappeared and his eyes sunk. "Sophie, Charlotte was being mean to me."
I shake my head at him. "Your 'pity me' eyes no longer work on me, Luc," I tell him pointedly. "I'm sure you did something to her to make her mad at you."
"But-"
"He totally did," Charlotte spoke, cutting off Lucas' denial. Coming over to Daniel and I, Charlotte greeted us both with a smile and a hug, taking the bottle of wine from Daniel's hand which she dutifully opened immediately. She took a long gulp from her glass and smiled. "I needed that. Now, everyone, sit."
Mum and Dad laughed at how us kids took charge and it was a free for all on who sat where. Dad, as always, ended up at one end of the table, while Mum took the opposite end. Charlotte and I sat on one side, with Charlotte closer to Mum. Opposite myself sat Lucas, which meant that Daniel was now sat to my mother's right. He smiled politely as he took his seat, making sure that he sat only after all the women had.
The soup was to start, followed by a small plate of escargots. When Mum announced this, I couldn't help but laugh absurdly loud as I remembered last night, when I tried to get Daniel to try the delicacy for the first time. It hadn't gone well, and considering how my fiancé had just gone a little green in the face, I knew that tonight's attempt would meet the same fate, with Daniel running off to the bathroom to throw up.
"Is he ok?" Dad asked as well all watched Daniel hot foot it out the kitchen as Lucas shouted directions to the closest bathroom. "Not a fan of snails, huh? I can sympathise."
"We all can," Lucas muttered, although from the sharp bark of French that came from the opposite end of the table, Mum must have heard him. Putting on his best innocent face, Lucas smiled. "Have I ever mentioned to you, Mum, that this is the best dish in the whole entire world? Because it totally is."
"Ta gueule," Mum told Lucas with a roll of her eyes. Turning to me, she tilted her head sideways and said, "We must start planning your wedding, Sophie."
"I thought you might say that," I noted, putting my fork down. As soon as we all looked like we were done with the started, Dad cleared the plates. Anything to avoid more wedding talk, I surmised as he cleaned the table and brought out the main course. "Well, we have a date set."
"You do?" Charlotte asked, her eyebrows furrowing.
"New Year's Eve," Daniel confirmed as he rejoined us, looking a little better than when he rushed out of the kitchen barely five minutes ago. "We want to start the New Year as man and wife, so it makes sense. Why put it off, huh?"
"And you have a wedding gown," Mum spoke, careful not to give away too much information about the dress I was to wear on the big day. "What about location?"
"The church in my family's Estate," Daniel answered. "It's quaint and there won't be a lot of guests at the ceremony. For the reception, we can have it at the orangery that's adjacent to the main house. If need be, we can have a marquee put up."
I blink at Daniel, wondering when he's had time to start planning these things. Ever since I got back to London, all our energy has been going into getting the new house ready, meeting with various interior designers and arguing about colour schemes. We've barely touched on the topic of the wedding, but apparently Daniel has had more than enough time to plan some of the bigger details.
"With a marquee we'll have enough room for a live band," he says, his attention more on Mum than it was on me. "We have a license already that says we can host a wedding at the Estate and part of that includes a permit to have a firework display, as long as we give the local council thirty days warning. We won't have flowrs due to Sophie's allergy. For the dinner menu, Sophie is going to talk to her uncle, and we were hoping that you might agree to make the cake for us, Charlotte," Daniel mentions, looking at my sister hopefully. "Lucas, if you agree, I'd like for you to be one of my ushers, unless Sophie is going to need you on the day. We won't be inviting my mother, so there won't be a mother-son dance, but I'd like to share one with my grandmother, if that's ok. And I'd also like Evelyn and her two sons to have a prominent place in the wedding because for a lot of people, that would be the first time that they find out she's my sister. Oh, and I've booked the honeymoon."
The table falls silent as we all turn to look at Daniel, myself more awed than anyone by the amount of attention he's lavished on the wedding planning. I haven't thought about receptions, fireworks, dinner menus, cakes... and what does he mean, he's booked the honeymoon? To where?
"Well," Mum smiles as she reaches out for her glass of wine. "I'm impressed. I thought you two wouldn't have thought any of this through. I was wrong."
"Mhm," Dad agreed. Shifting in his chair, he eyed Daniel and I as he rapped his fingers against the table. "And how much, exactly, is this going to cost me? If it's anywhere near the three million Emma's wedding cost, break the news to me gently, otherwise, Lucas will have to walk you down the aisle because I'll have died of a heart attack."
"Oh, please tell him it's going to cost that much!" My brother excitedly begged me. We all stared at him. "What? I want to walk you down the aisle!"
Dad glared at him mockingly. "Charlotte was right. We all preferred you when you were gasping for air."
I feel like this is a rather disjointed chapter that's a bit all over the place.
But, I have to say, I love Lucas!
BTW, Good Morning Beautiful/i like turtles update tomorrow, anyone?