Where Would I Be Without You (12 page)

"Maybe I should go change.  You know.  To something different.  Maybe you could help me."  I felt the palms of my hands start to sweat.

"Love.  If I go in your bedroom with you and watch you get undressed, we won't be making it to my parents' house on time, or at all."  His voice held a bit of laughter as his eyes twinkled while trailing my body.  "Lose the sweater.  It's warm out.  You have a great body.  Don't start acting like you need to hide it.  Besides, that dress is almost to your ankles and all I can think about is how I want it to scrunch up around your waist."

I slapped his hand as he started to pull my dress up to peek under.  "Later."

"Promise?"  He laughed.

I pulled his head down for a kiss and when I pulled
back, I gave him a sultry flirting look and a simple reply.  "Absolutely."  From that point, we walked out to his black BMW, the one that he told me his dad bought him after college; I felt a lot more reassured that meeting his family wouldn't be so bad after all just from holding his hand.

It started out that way. 
I walked into a kitchen with four women bustling about preparing food.  All of them with gorgeous long dark brown hair that held curls.  They were all dressed in simple summer dresses but with their body and curves, it made them look as if they were walking the red carpet.  I wanted to escape to the restroom and do a little plumping action of the girls by pitching them higher in my bra.  My C cups felt like A's in this room.  Then when his mother turned to me with so much excitement and warmth to her personality, I wanted to take her home and claim her as my own mother.

His mother's warm embrace and comments about how adorable I am
, put me at a complete ease about how this day was going to play out.  However, I thought I heard one of his sister's comments under her breath that I might be Mason's type, but I was not their father's type for Mason.  When I turned sharply to the comment, I had nothing to say as the two married sisters who looked almost identical stood there with a sweet smile on their face.  Maybe I was imagining things.

Mason finally quit picking at bites of food and looked up to a silent room of five women.  "Oops
, sorry.  Everyone knows your name.  Amber this is my mother Sophia.  My sister Adoncia, which means sweet; however, I beg to differ at times."  He chuckled and she swat at his arm with the back of her hand.

"Watch it big brother.  You be nice."  She laughed.

Mason continued on.  He walked over to his other sister standing next to Adoncia and hugged her from behind.  "This is Felicina.  Which means happy and she is our happy sister, no matter what, if you are down, she will make you happy."

I watched her
turn and kiss Mason on the cheek.  It was evident that they had a strong bond.  It was very sweet.  Then he walked over to his youngest sister who was at least ten years younger than he was and patted her on the head.  "And this sweet little thing is my accomplice.  She was the one that helped me with your birthday gift.  This is Maria, which is supposed to mean rebellion but is anything but.  I think I have all the rebellion this family needs."  He chuckled, but his sisters began a collective coo of agreement on that, which gave me a small amount of nervousness.  A rebellious man often never stayed with one woman.  Would my Latin be everything to me lover, quickly bore of me and move on?

Maria spoke up in a joking voice.  "Maria means a lot of different things in different
languages; Mason just likes to tease me because I tend to be a rebel.  Not as much as he's been known to be but maybe that's why we get along so well."  She walked over to me and whispered in my ear.  "He's grown up a bit, but you watch out."

Mason's mother Sophia must have sensed my overwhelming feelings of his
family, took my hand in hers, and offered to show me their garden just outside the kitchen.  As she led me outside, she hollered over her shoulder for Mason to pull the roast out of the oven.

We stepped out of the huge gallery kitchen into a garden that was quite spectacular.  Spring and
early summer flowers were still in bloom, with soft flowering trees marking a brick paved path that twisted around in a curvy pattern to a beautiful outdoor cement patio that had an impressive pavilion with stone pillars and covered roof.  There at the table was a man who was Mason's maker.  He stood as I approached so that he could introduce himself as he took my hand.  Sofia presented me to him as if she was a game-show host.  She had that graceful presence about her.

"Amber this is Mason's father, Mark Anthony Montahue.  Dear, this is Mason's new
girlfriend, Amber Jones."

"It's a pleasure to meet you finally.  I've heard all sorts of wonderful things about you."  He
smiled, and I could see where Mason got his incredible smile from, and it warmed me.  His charm was evident, and I felt myself relax a bit.

"Pleasure is all mine Sir.  You have a beautiful mansion..." I stuttered.  "I mean home here and the gardens are spectacular."

"Why thank you."  He replied then he turned his attention to Sophia.  "How much longer until brunch dear?  I have a few things I need to run into my office and get done."

"About fifteen minutes."  She replied as I could see the adoring love she had for Mason's father.

"Wonderful.  Now if you two will excuse me, I think I will get about fifteen minutes worth of work done.  Have Maria get me when it's time.  Again, lovely to meet you Amber."

As I watched him walk away, I
thought how easy it would be for me to fit right into this family.  How desperately I would love making this my own.  Not that I didn't love my father and sister, and ok, my mother, but this was the type of classy family a poor girl like me dreams about growing up and marrying into.  Bethany made her success and was beginning to reap her rewards.  I was a bit lazy and rebellious, and yes I liked the finer things.  I just didn't want to have to go to college or work too hard to get it.  Marrying into this would be a dream.  Marion did, why couldn't I?

Then I remembered the way Marion thought Carl's family would readily accept her and slowly, painfully, found out that she was considered a gold digger and outcast.  I didn't want these lovely people to think of me this way.  If I had
a doubt about my 'now that I am grown up and thirty plans', I didn't now.  Just meeting his family made me want to be a better, stronger person who gives back and works hard.  Ok.  Some.  Having fun with Mason was top on my list, but I now knew that I could easily squeeze in a bit of college courses and volunteer community time, hopefully with Mason at my side when he had time.

By the time we made it back into the kitchen, the girls were buzzing and Mason was
nowhere to be found.  Maria spoke up quickly.  "My dad stole Mason to discuss work things.  Mind helping me frost the cake for dessert?"

Did I mind frosting a cake?  Heck no.  Before I could
think, I reacted with a bubbly remark.  "Only if I can lick the knife when I am done."  I chuckled.  The room was quiet for a second then Sofia spoke up.

"Oh dear, you will fit in perfect with us."  She said it with a true note of happiness in her
voice, and I was starting to feel it.  Except for the fact that the two older sisters had whispered something back and forth to each other, and I worried it was about me, my fair wage job, lack of college and compared to their high-end labeled clothes; I was wearing a discount rack dress.  However, my shoes were four hundred bought used for fifty off eBay, so I guess I was a little in their league.

By the time we were taking food out in a uniformed line to the outdoor patio table, which was nicer than any dining room table I had ever seen, well except Marion and Carl's, Mason was finally out of his dad's office and walking with the cake I just frosted with a cover on top, out to the patio.  The look on his face was one of a beaten man.  His happy go
lucky in love look was gone.  Something had to of been said between the two men and for Mason's sake, I worried.  I instantly felt his sadness and wanted to take him in my arms and kiss him.  Instead, I grabbed the cake out of his hands and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, which seemed to cheer him up.

"Hey.  I frosted that cake."  I practically bubbled out.

"You did?"  He let a smile grow back on his face, and his eyes lit up as I turned and looked back over my shoulder at him with a wink.

Once we all sat down, we held hands and said grace.  Ok.  Not strange to me.  My mother still insists on it, but it made me think about how
uncatholic I have been lately.  Rarely saying prayers or grace.  Sleeping with a man before marriage, yet alone commitment.  Although, Mason and I had verbally agreed, we were committed.  So that's something?  Right?  However, I sensed it wasn't in his father's eyes, and perhaps I was the start of the angst between them.  Perhaps, Mark Anthony found out what kind of crazy, free and easy, gal I was.  I gulped hard as the last few words of grace were spoken by Mason's father.

We all took turns passing food around and putting
it on our plates.  Sitting at the table now was the two older sister's husbands.  Joseph and Mark.  They did not say much but they sure looked like they were ready to eat.  Adoncia was holding a two-year-old boy in her lap trying to get him to eat, while a small playpen off to the side of the table held a sleeping baby girl not much more than a few months old.  It was a picture of a growing happy family, and I really wanted a part of it, so perhaps that was why I was trying so hard to be perfect.

I jumped in on a conversation the two sisters were having about baby rearing as I mentioned my best friend Marion was pregnant with twins.  It got a few
comments, but then they seem to go back to their own conversation.  Therefore, I turned to Sophia and commented on how wonderful her roast was.  She thanked me and winked but did not say much more because she had this worried look of concern glaring at the other end of the table at Mark Anthony.  I turned to Maria and told her how much I appreciated her help with my birthday gift from Mason.  Before Maria could comment, Mark Anthony spoke up.

"You have got to be kidding me son.  At your age, you can't even figure out how to buy a present for a beautiful woman. 
Jewelry, flowers and a good bottle of wine.  Does the trick every time."  He winked as if he was joking, but I saw the way Mason's body tensed and his eyes glared.  I felt for him, because what he and Maria had done had been perfect.  So, of course, I chimed up.

"Oh Sir.  It was perfect.  He did send me flowers on my actual birthday.  A huge bouquet.  And took me and my
best friend, sister and mother to lunch, picking up the tab.  But, it was the bakery cake from my favorite bakery and the cushion for my window seat that was perfect.  I'm not a jewelry kind of gal any ways."

The table went dead silent.  Mason had this tense feel
in his hand and with the way he was trying, mind you, to hold my hand under the table.  Sophia made a small gasp sound, and then I realized; I had just tried to protect or was it fight Mason's battle for him.  He was a grown man and could take his father's indignant suggestion that he could not be a great boyfriend.  So why did I think it was my place to speak up about it?  Because that was who I am, and I had a feeling, right now, that I was not fitting in very well with his family after all.

Maria finally spoke up.  "So that cushion I got you at Pottery Barn was perfect after all.  Good.  I am glad.  By
the way, that bakery where I picked up your cake had muffins that were the best I have ever had."  She smiled and winked at me, and I tried to falter a smile.

I spoke up to break the tension or at least try.  "Their holiday pies are wonderful, but Mason and I are planning on making it a regular for a coffee and muffin run."

The table stayed quiet but at least people were back to eating.  A few seconds later, Mark Anthony finally spoke up.  "So how old are you if you don't mind me asking?"

Ok.  I knew it was rude for a man to ask a
woman's age in private, let alone out in the presence of more people, but I sensed this was a question Mason's father felt he had to ask.

"Thirty Sir.  I just turned thirty."  I took a big bite of salad as he replied.

"And you are just now taking college courses?  For work?  To be a production line manager?"  His voice was judgmental, and his tone told me that I wasn't really the person he was mad at, it was something between Mason and himself.  Either way, I took offense and barely got out a 'yes sir' reply.

W
hen he put it that way, I probably should have thought about growing up about eight to ten years ago.  I probably should have, but I didn't, and now that I was thirty; I planned on doing so, even more so as his father seemed to be judging me, and his family was nowhere to my defense.  It was a time like now that I craved Marion's help.  She always had a way with people, and she would have found a way to divert or make everyone focus on her instead of me out of help, not selfishness.  Sofia finally spoke up.

"Mark Anthony, I need another bottle of white wine.  Would you be a dear and go into the wine cellar and get me that bottle of ninety six?"  The way she was looking at him, if he was to say no, she would have caused him a lot of mental anguish later.  I have seen that look on a grown woman and any man who ever wants loving again, better do what she asks.  I needed to accomplish that look.