Out of the Ordinary

Chapter 35

I shouldn't have been so nervous.

Such a normal situation shouldn't have made me feel this way. Palms sweaty. Stomach in knots. Thoughts racing through my head.

It wasn't like this with Harry's parents. If Anne and Robin were easy-going, his father Des was even more so. We'd had dinner with him the night before we left, and even though Harry was a lot like his mom, I could tell that he was also going to grow up to be a lot like his Dad. Their mannerisms were already the same—the little nose wrinkle, sniff thing Harry always did, the slow way they spoke, as if each word was carefully selected before being uttered, the same silly sense of humor, and the patient, quiet, kind way they treated everyone around them.

No matter the circumstance with Harry's family, nothing that had happened with any of them had me this nervous. This anxious to get the evening over with. This unsure of what the night might hold.

Only my mother could do that.

We had been home in New York for about a week—a week spent trying to beat the jet lag, and trying to avoid the slew of pictures that had been taken of us over the course of my two week stay in England, and during our arrival at JFK airport. I was getting better at dealing with the attention, with the crowds that seemed to find us wherever we were. Getting better at letting the words roll off my back. Mostly because I wasn't really looking at them anymore.

With Harry right beside me, I didn't feel the need to.

"It doesn't matter," he'd said in his bedroom, closing his laptop before I could even peek.

"But is it bad?" I'd asked, crawling into bed beside him.

"Typical of gossip. Only gives a very vague picture of the truth. Nothing to worry about."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

Harry just grinned over at me.

"It's not working, though," I said, as he cuddled down under the blanket, taking me into his arms.

There was a gleam in his eye when he said, "Good thing I have a few other methods up my sleeve."

He'd kissed me after that. And I could've used a reassuring kiss right now. But I was behind the wheel of Emily's car, both hands clutching it, and though Harry was beside me, comfort felt like it was too far away from my grasp. Like it wouldn't come even if he reached out, and took my hand.

"It's going to be fine," he said then, his hand sliding over the top of my thigh.

It wasn't completely comforting, but it was close.

"I know," I said, hoping to hide just how nervous I was from him. He had to be feeling it, too. "Just want to get it over with at this point."

Harry was quiet for several moments, but his hand remained on my leg. "Do you think I should try to talk to her?"

"Who?"

"Your mum, obviously." He was smiling.

I glanced over. "Only if you have a death wish."

"No, I'm serious. "

"So am I."

"Oh, come on."

"I'm saving you from yourself."

He was quiet again. I got off at my parents' exit.

"I'm starting to wonder if I should listen to you in these situations," Harry said while we were sitting at a red light.

I looked over at him, trying to temper my shock. "Of course you should."

"But your judgment concerning your mother in the past has been a bit off, to say the least," Harry said with a smirk.