Voicemails to Will

thirteen; of families

Nathan, the guy Jill set me up with, called today. He was drunk, Will.

He was beyond belief drunk, tripping on his words, stretching one syllable words into four.

We had only been seeing one another for a few months, seeing one another being a huge overstatement for we've only been on three dates.

"Eleanorrrrrrrr," he laughed, late last night. "Eleanor, baby come over."

You, Will, you knew I hated that preposition. Baby, that's what my dad calls me, or my grandpa, but to someone who's of the same age, it's just degrading.

"Nate," I parroted on the other end. "Be safe, please. Don't drive."

Keys shuffled on the other end, and I knew what his response would be. "I'm a good driver, Elle; I'll survive."

"No!" I responded, springing out of bed and shuffling on a pair of jeans. "I'm coming to pick you up. I'm not letting you, or anyone else for that matter get hurt."

So I drove the half hour into the city and picked Nate up, bubbly, red-faced Nate, at a condo. He hopped in with that same carefree goofy smile, and I hated myself for it, but I couldn't stay mad at him.

He reminded me of you, and God knows even if I wanted to I couldn't have stayed mad at you.

The memory of you played in my mind as I drove on.

It was a Sunday, and you had promised me a huge surprise.

"Is it a good thing?" Nosy me asked.

You grimaced. "I mean- it's neither good or bad, but it's something that has to be done."

You looked at ease, so I let the subject go. A few minutes later, you pulled up to your house, packed with cars.

"Nora, dear, I'd like you to meet my family and all my twenty-something relatives," you said right before unlocking the door and pushing me into a crowd of smiling faces.

Each and every person resembled you in some way, and it was oddly pleasant. Your grandmother had the same slightly crooked nose; your father had the same soft eyes, and your mother had the same bright smile.

"You must be Eleanor," your mother said as she latched onto us trying to go up to your room.

Pushing my nerves aside, I answered, "Pleasure, ma'am."

She laughed, that same fruity, head thrown back laugh I loved. "No need for the formalities, dear. Come here." Her arms pulled me in for a tight hug, and as much as I hated to admit it, she was by far the best hugger in the Hunter household.

"Mom," you cried, dots of pink appearing on your cheeks. "Please, you can embarrass me at dinner. I want to talk to Eleanor."

With an over exaggerated sigh, she left. "Introduce Eleanor to your father first, then you may do whatever you want, but door open, Will. Door all the way open."

You groaned before I fixed your frown with a quick kiss.

"Come on, you big baby," I teased, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the living room where everyone else was.

Your father stood at an intimidating six-foot-five, and sat on a lone armchair.

"Will!" He called, as you tried to sneak me out back.

"Dad, Eleanor; Eleanor, this is my dad, Frank. Now that that's over, let's go," you said in a single breath, pulling me up the stairs.

"Well nice to meet you, Eleanor!" He hollered as I yelled back the same thing, still getting escorted up the stairs.

"So," I said as I nudged you, "what's the big news?"

Something odd flickered through your eyes before you settled on, "Eleanor, dearest Eleanor, I love you."

"Not exactly news," I laughed as you kissed my forehead, "but I'll take it, Will."

"Kids!" Your mother called from downstairs. "It's dinner time; get down in two minutes or else I'll get Dad to go up there."

You grabbed my hand and took the steps two-by-two.

I sat to the left of your mother and to the right of you. Your thumb rubbed circles on my closed hand, and you flashed a small smile.

Dinner went smoothly, to my surprise, and all of your family members were so supportive of everything you did, and especially of us.

"Hang on," your father called to silence the room. "Since my lovely son, William, chose not to introduce me to his even lovelier girlfriend for more than three seconds, I'd like to introduce her to him."

A silence fell between the twenty-something people, and your father carried on. "About a year ago, Will came home an hour and a half late, and Claire," he smiled to his wife, "panicked of course, but my son's lips stayed twitched up in a smile.

She's so amazing, he gushed.
You don't really know her though, his protective mother replied.
But I want to, mom. I want to know everything there is to know about her, he answered, determined.
Your mother and I gave up in persuading you out of it, and today, watching your smile stretch all the way across your face, I'm glad we did."

Your cheeks were flushed, resembling the tomato sauce a few plates away, and everyone's eyes were on us, but I pulled you in for a kiss anyway.

And Will, that was one of the best kisses I ever had.