Say you love me

Part 16

Now came the hard part: telling Mum and Dad. Chris was nervous, Dad would be fine but Mum? It'd be the human equivalent of Hiroshima. She'd always been easy going when it came to other stuff; makeup, skirt length, partying, things like that. If Dad had objected to one of Chris's outfits Mum would just shrug and say, "Oh, Cyril she's a young lass. Let her have her fun."

All of Chris's friends were completely envious; they always wanted to come over after school. But when it came to boyfriends and dating she was stricter than she'd ever been before; there was a particularly embarrassing moment of Chris's life when her mum tried to give her The Talk again, even though she was 15 and her date was waiting downstairs in the foyer.
"You know that if a boy ever wants to have intercourse that you absolutely must use protection, and.."
"Mummmmmm!" Chris hid her face in her hands as her cheeks turned red.
"I'm sorry, but Christine I just want to make sure you know these things. So many boys nowadays are animals and I want to make sure you're safe...." If "safe" meant having Dad nonchalantly polish his rifle when her date showed up, then yeah, Chris was safe.

Of course Christine wouldn't dream of going to England without a visit to her parents, and on the day before their last she and John journeyed all the way to Bouth to break the news of their engagement. Halfway through the train ride there Chris realized her hands were shaking.

"Darling, don't be so nervous," John tried to soothe her by holding her hands. He was such a sweetie, always loving her in some way or another.
"But I am nervous, John. You don't know my parents. Mum knows about us from phone calls but that's it! We've only been together for about a month and we're already engaged. She and Dad waited nearly a year til they were married. She's gonna blow up, oh god..." Chris sighed and closed her eyes.
"We love each other Chrissy, doesn't that make it right?"
"Of course it does! I'm just worried about what Mum will think."

Chris was eternally grateful that she found a pair of gloves in her purse. They were white and filled with holes, but her left hand was covered, and that was good enough for her. It was nearly a hundred degrees out and the gloves were wet with perspiration by the time they reached the front door of Chris's childhood home.

It was a cute house, a brown brick box filled with a front yard full of colorful flowers in bloom. The shutters were a rich chocolately brown that reminded you of a Hershey's bar, and the door was painted to match.

Christine stood on the steps, shaking on the inside, with John behind her. She rang the doorbell, waited one, two, three thousands before her mother answered the door.
"Christine, darling! I've missed you so much!" Beatrice Perfect enveloped Chris in a hug as she ushered them inside. As soon as Chris was in her mother's arms, she felt better. Beatrice still wore the same perfume, still wore her silver cross necklace. It was as if Chris never left home. As tall as Chris was, though, Beatrice was a tiny woman, she couldn't have been more than 5'5 or 5'6. Standing next to her daughter it was as if the roles were reversed and she was the child and Christine was the mother.

Chris introduced John and her mum as soon as the hug was over.
"Mum, this is John Mcvie. John, this is my mum, Beatrice."
"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Perfect," John said kindly. He was so sweet. Chris could tell by the way her mother smiled that she was won over immediately. Beatrice shook his hand, and said with an air of approval, "It's lovely to meet you, John. It's so nice to finally meet the man my daughter is taken with." She looked at Christine with a pointed look as she said the last part.

"Where's Dad?" Chris asked as they all went into the living room.
"Oh, he's out but I'm sure he'll be back soon. I think he said something about buying more silver polish for his rifle." Oh god. It was already starting. Chris was mortified. As she sat down on the couch, Chris put her hands in her lap so her mother wouldn't see her gloves. She didn't want to break the news so soon, she wanted her father there so her mother would have someone to catch her when she fainted.

"Christine Perfect, why are you wearing gloves in this heat?" Beatrice eyes Chris's hands suspiciously. Fuck. She'd forgotten her mother had eyes like a goddamn hawk.
"Oh, these?" Chris looked at her hands like she forgot she was wearing gloves. "I burned my hands cooking and the doctor said to keep them covered to prevent infection." Beatrice looked disbelieving but said nothing. Instead she went into the kitchen to get everyone coffee.

"How long are you planning on wearing those?" John whispered as he glanced at Chris's hands.
"Just a bit longer, til Dad gets here," Chris whispered back. "He was always fine whenever I dated, but Mum was a nightmare. She'd make him sit by the door and polish his rifle to scare any boy that came to the door. That's why he's out." Chris giggled.

Beatrice came back into the living room carrying a tray with mugs, spoons, and saucers. She had to go back into the kitchen and carry the coffee pot with two hands, as she didn't want a repeat of The Carpet Stain of 1959. That sure was a mess.

Everyone filled their mugs, added the appropriate measures of cream and sugar, and chatted while drinking. Christine's fingers shook as she lit a cigarette. It was hard for her to strike her match they were shaking so hard, John had to do it. The smoke calmed her, and the coffee helped too. Her mum always did make good coffee.

Chris was just taking a sip when the front door opened and she heard her father's booming voice say, "I'm home, Bea!", as he always greeted her mother when he came home. Her father, Cyril, entered the living room in his usual confident stride. He stopped when he saw Chris.
"I've missed you, Chrissy doll!"
"Hi Daddy!" Chris stood up and hugged him, realizing how much she missed him.

Chris introduced John again, and after the two men greeted and shook hands, Beatrice went to get another mug for Cyril. "My daughter seems very fond of you, John," Cyril said.
"Oh, she is, sir. And I'm very fond of her as well." John held onto Chris's hand as he spoke.

Beatrice returned with the mug and a small glass of milk, as Cyril preferred it in his coffee to cream. Chris felt herself break into a cold sweat. Oh god, she thought. Here it goes. Now or nothing.
"Mum, Dad," she stood up.
"John and I love each other very much. So much, that we've decided to... oh god I can't do this!" She sat down hard on the couch and put her hands over her mouth to try and keep from puking. When she caught her breath, she slowly removed her gloves to show the tiny gold ring on her left hand.

There was a moment of silence. Using the term "you could hear a pin drop" is a cliché, but you literally could hear a pin drop in the silence of the living room. Beatrice opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Then she tried again, "You've only known each other for one month..."
"But we love each other." This came from John. Cyril looked at John fiercely, then said,
"And what can you provide my daughter with? Can you give her a house, a bed, food on the table?"
"I'll do what I have to to see that your daughter is well taken care of. I'd give her the world if she asked for it."

Christine spoke up.
"We don't care what you two say, we don't care what you think. We're getting married and that's the end of that."
"Just one thing," Beatrice looked at her daughter pleadingly with her blue eyes. "What?"
"I want ten grandchildren." Christine grinned at her mother, then walked over to her and kissed her cheek.