On My Way To Mr. Right

Chapter 42

A good half hour passed before James arrived with a bunch of goodies for me. I felt ashamed to have sent him off to run errands for me, but I could get my period anytime now and I wasn’t risking it by roaming the aisles of Walmart and staining my boyfriend’s car seat.

I met him out front, helping him bring the two paper bags full of my essentials. Did he buy a bag full of tampons and napkins?

“Is this a bag full of menstruation products?”

“Well, you didn’t put it on your lips. I guess you forgot it,” he responded.

“I didn’t put them on because I still have a bunch of tampons from the last time I was on my period.”

“Oh,” he gasped in realization. He must have spent nearly fifty dollars on all these products. I asked for chocolates, pain relievers, and cleaning stuff. He got me a bag full of tampons. “I guess you could go a year, maybe two in those. You’re welcome.”

He leaves the room, smirking, to go meet my parents. I was stuck in the living room thinking where to place all these products. I barely had enough time to organize my bedroom as it is. This would just cause an overflow of my tampon drawer.

“James, wait,” I called after him. “Thank you for everything, by the way. The flowers and the extra stuff.” I said as I handed him money for the things I made him buy.

“What? No, Lottie. I got you those because I wanted to take care of you. Don’t try and pay me. You’re making me look like an Ubereats guy or something,” he says, chuckling.

“Dude, seriously, that was a lot of stuff you bought for me. You shouldn’t be spending so much on me, anyway,” I insisted.

“Charlotte, no,” he replied with a stern and straight face.

“If you say so, then.”

I gave up trying to pay him and led him to the dining table where my parents were hogging their phones.

“James, how wonderful to see you again,” Mom greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks while her hands were covered in flour. I had to dust him off after and try to cover up the humiliation my parents were bringing and were about to bring on.

“Mom, wash your hands first,” I said, swatting them away from touching James again, earning a chuckle from everyone but me in the room.

“Oh, Lottie, I’m sure your boyfriend isn’t too keen about some flour on his cheeks. He’s as fresh as a daisy and this flour is farm fresh. Sort of a combination of fresh things, don’t you think so?”

And so, the weirdness begins.

I looked at James and saw his surprised face. I nod to solidify his thoughts regarding my parents’ knowledge of our relationship.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. It was sort of an on-the-spot moment for me. I didn’t even know I’d confessed to Charlotte last night until I found my lips muttering the words saying so,” He immediately coaxes to my dad’s side, explaining away.

My eyes widened at his expression. The last thing I’d expect him to do is to apologize to my parents for liking me. What the hell?

“That’s alright, son. We saw it long before Lottie did, anyway,” Dad responded, handing him a bottle of beer.

I scratched my eyebrows in bewilderment at my father’s words.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, George. You’d done yourself real good. Those eyes came from me and I know ‘em when I see ‘em. Your daughter’s angry now,” Mom exclaims as she leaves the room.

“Nothing, Charlotte. Just that I saw the way you glanced over at James a few weeks before. And I sure as hell have seen the way he’s grateful for your presence.”

“Whatever, Dad,” I mumbled, irked, and left the room. I walked outside to the backyard, letting myself fall over the beanbag chair by the porch, trying to let my anger subside.

“Lottie,” James followed me outside with a worried look. “Why’d you run off like that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because my parents were being annoying weirdos in front of you, nonetheless,” I fumed.

“They were annoying weirdos in front of me long before we dated, Lottie. We’re used to it, aren’t we?” He comforts, sitting beside me on the small stool.

“Why’d he have to bring it up like that, anyway? It’s so frustrating to hear that everyone thinks they just know better than us. That everyone knew us, before us! It’s like they expected our relationship, predicted it even, long before we even knew it. And now that we’re here, it’s like we owe them something for knowing it before us. It’s just so forking frustrating. Everyone I’ve met today literally told me the same thing. They knew before you and me. They’ve expected it and they think they’re right. It’s bullshirt.”

“Well, aren’t they right?”

“Yeah, but I just wished they’d stop rubbing it on my face like it’s some victory to be prophesizing someone else’s life.”

“Don’t fret about it, Lottie. Your parents know now, and that means I’ll be able to come over as much as I want, right?”

I chuckle, remembering what dad said.

“Dad wants you to court him, by the way. Good luck shaving that ice.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Come one, it’s time for dinner. They’ll be waiting for us.”

With that, we returned to the dining room where the sumptuous meal awaited us.