Moonsland (EN)

James (IX)

9th day of the change

  I had never felt that I really loved someone. Things have happened that, when I look back, I see had no importance next to what I'm experiencing now. The brain slightly changes the past in our memory into something more extraordinary than it really was. Maybe I'm living one of those moments in which what I feel will be nothing compared to what I may yet feel. Or maybe not, what I feel now could really be a great love that began in my teens.
  In fact, nothing is certain. It's just me thinking too much, because we're just friends. But she might also want more than that and she's just waiting for me to make the first move. It shouldn't be so complicated. Is it really complicated or am I making it complicated? Everything seems easier with her, but I seem to insist on having doubts. There's nothing to lose by simply opening up and saying that I have feelings for her. On the other hand, if she doesn't feel the same way, I'll ruin the incredible friendship we've built. It's a real dilemma, one that really makes you think.
- James, are you coming to tell me what you want me to do? - asks Betty, on the other side of my bedroom door, interrupting my text about how I feel in my 'Notebook of Change'.
  Today Emily is coming to my house for dinner. Since I went to her house yesterday and met her parents, I think it's only fair that she meets mine today. But I'm scared. I'm afraid that they'll say something they shouldn't, because I know that's going to happen. They say what they think and what they think is that Emily shouldn't even live with me, just because she's not from a rich family. They're always throwing me at daughters of their friends to 'keep the wealth among the best families', according to them. Old-fashioned and misplaced.
Anyway, I have to organize things for tonight.
  When I get to the room, everything is almost ready. This catering team really is good. The table is full of food and the colors chosen for the decoration are white and brown, representing the season we are in.
  It's almost eight in the evening when my parents arrive. It seems they've had the decency to show up early as I asked.
- Good evening, Mom and Dad. How are you? - I say hello.
My mother greets me with a kiss on the left cheek and says:
- Good night, son. You're looking good!
- Good evening, hasn't she arrived yet?
- Thanks, Mom. And no, Dad, she has a name, Emily, and no, she's not here yet. She's the guest, not you. - I reply, out of patience.
  Shortly afterwards, Emily arrives, looking beautiful. Today, she's no longer wearing a dress, but a military green shirt inside white dress pants and a jacket on her shoulders to match her pants.
- Welcome, Emily. You look beautiful. - I say, a little nervously, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.
- Thank you. You look very handsome too.
I hear my father behind me sniffling, so I say:
- Yes, Dad, Mom, this is Emily!
Emily comes forward, extends her hand to greet them and says:
- Pleasure... what should I call you?
- Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, please. - my father replies and turns away.
My mother sees that Emily has held out her hand and whispers hello:
- Hello darling, you're very pretty. - And complete it out loud. - Nice to meet you! Natasha, James' mother.
He turns his back and asks the staff to set the table:
- Please start serving.
We're all at the table and while we're being served soup, my father asks:
- And you're... - He pauses. - ...friends, right?
  I look at Emily to see if she's going to answer and I feel, from the look in her eyes, that she's begging me to answer her.
- Yes, Dad. We're just friends, why? - I ask back.
- Just so you know. - she replies, flashing her sly smile.
I feel uncomfortable.
- Emily, isn't it? - she asks once again.
- "Yes," Emily replies, trying to hide her nervousness.
- What do your parents do?
- My father works in a real estate agency and my mother has a clothes store here in the center.
- But you live in the suburbs, don't you? - she asks.
- Dad! - I say, in a warning tone. I knew these questions would come.
- What? The salary of a real estate agent doesn't allow you to have the capital to live in the city center like we do. - he explains in a smug tone.
- It's okay, James. Yes, I live in the suburbs. - he replies. - It's quieter than living here... in the city. And you can go out without tons of carbon dioxide entering your lungs. - complete.
My father doesn't know what to say.
Wow, my father doesn't know what to say.
- "Do you have a brother, Emily?" asked my mother.
- Yes! I have one. His name is Jonathan.
- It's a beautiful name, can you believe it was one of the names I considered... should we give it to James?
- Really? How cute. - he replies. - But my brother isn't like your son. Jonathan is younger than me and he's a pest!
- I understand why you say that about your brother, but sooner or later you're going to miss the fact that he bothers you. They start by being afraid to meet people... they just want to be with their parents. They need help to make their first friends. They start spending more time at school than at home. Friends become more important. Puberty begins and they start to share less and less with their parents and, before you know it, they're wanting to be independent and you have to let them go, because holding them back only drives them further away. But all we can do is enjoy every moment with them, because we never know when they're going to leave us. - declares my mother, with tears in her eyes.
- But you're going to enjoy the time you have with your brother, aren't you? - she asks, forcing a smile as she wipes the tears from her eyes without smearing her makeup.
- Of course I will, Mrs. Wilson. I say this, but I love my brother.
- Natasha, please. - correct her.
  Dinner continues with my father asking questions that embarrass me and my mother trying to get to know Emily better.
  When we get up from the table, I say goodbye to my mother and pull Emily to the elevator. I'm sick of listening to my father.
We left the building and instantly shivered. It's colder than usual today.
- I'm sorry. - I beg you.
- It's okay, really. I'm used to dealing with assholes... I'm sorry, I know he's your father...
- Yeah, and he's exactly an asshole. I'm really sorry. I was afraid he was going to ask these questions and he did.
- James, forget it! -he says, taking a big step forward, turns to me and stretches out his arm withhis big smile. - Shall we save the night?