Language of Love

Meridianam

     "I've told you about my immediate family, but my extended family will be there. So, my uncle Albert is a pervert. You are very pretty and young, so if he bothers you just yell for me." He says.
     "I can deal with perverts, Fitz. I'm woman, I deal with them everyday. What else you got?" I say.

     "My aunts will want to know when we're having babies, so be prepared." He says.
    "Okay?"

    "My Grandma will most likely try to convert you to Christianity, so you can either tell her you're a regular member of a Baptist Church or you can deal with "suggestions" and snarky comments throughout," He says.
      "I am a regular member of a Baptist Church," I say and wink.

     "Got it. Oh, this is awful. But, expect to be in the kitchen for a duration of this trip. You'll be expected to show "wife material" whatever that is. I know your good with kids and babies so you don't have to worry about that. Um, I don't recommend mentioning that you are a democrat or had an abortion or accept gay people. And definitely don't tell anyone my sister is gay, she hasn't told anyone." He says.

      "So, I'm a good Republican and Christian girl who plans to spend the rest of her life serving you as my husband, got it," I say.
      "I don't mean..." He starts.
      "But you do, Fitz. And that's how I will act, because I'm in love with you and I want your entire family to attend our wedding without hating the bride. Slowly, the more Thanksgivings and Easters at their house we go to, I can show more of myself. After we've been married 15 years, they can't start hating me, right?" I say.
       "You might not make it to another Easter. Or to Thanksgiving. The last girl I brought to this fled the day we got back." He says.
       "They can't be that bad." I say.
       "I'm not kidding. She even blocked me on FaceBook," He says.
       "Right."

        We land and get off the plane. Waiting at the baggage claim is his mother and at least 5 other relatives I don't recognize. Fitz gives a hug to his mother, who then tries to give him a kiss on the lips. He turns his head and it lands on his cheek. I smile and she pulls me into a hug.

    "I knew you were the one," She says. I giggle. His grandma walks to me. She immediately reaches up to my cheeks.
     "You are a very pretty girl. You will make pretty babies," She says.
     "Thank you, ma'am." I say.
     "Walter!" She says.
     "Dearest?" He says.
     "She's going to be a Kennedy." She says.
     "What?"
     "THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED." She yells.
     "Oh!" He says. Fitz stands with a group of his aunts, who smoother him in kisses.

     Eventually we walk out of the airport and head to gaggle of pickup trucks awaiting. Our luggage is thrown into one of them, while we are put into a different one. His oldest sister, Autumn, drives and his Grandma rides shotgun.

     "Pretty girlfriend. Keep her away from Albert," His sister says.
     "Already warned her," Fitz says.
     "Good." Autumn responds.

     We are taken into separate rooms, because we aren't married yet. My room is referred to as "the cross room." Yikes. I think somebody caught on to my lack of devotion to Jesus. The bedspread has clouds and giant cross along with a quote. At the bottom it says "John 3:16" I have no clue what that means.

     Fitz's room is up two flights of stairs from
mine, because of course they are rich enough to have more than two flights of stairs in their house.

     At dinner, I'm served a large plate. On it sits a green vegetable I've never seen before. It looks kinda like a pepper.

     "What is that?" I ask.
     "Okra." He says.
     "Oprah?"
     "No, okra. O-K-R-A."
     "Is it a pepper?"
     "No? How have you never had okra?"
     "I don't know?"

     Then it's time to say a prayer. Fitz takes my right hand and his sister, who sits on the other side of the table grabs my left. I bow my head like everyone else does.

    "Gray, how would you like to say the prayer?" His father asks. Fitz looks over to me and nods. Oh god. This is bad.

    "God, I'd like to thank you for the food you've blessed us with and to allow us to be gathered here today all in good health. I'd like to thank you for letting me find such a wonder man with such a wonderful family. Amen." I say. Not too shabby, if I may say so myself.

     "Amen." Everyone repeats. Fitz leans to me.
     "That was really good." He says.
     "Thanks. I remember them saying a prayer in Charlie Brown." I say.
     "How'd I know?"

     The first thing I take a bite of is this Oprah... Opera...Okra!...vegetable. It's slimy and tastes like bacon. Not a fan. I swallow it.

     "How's the okra?" He asks.
     "Slimy." I say.
     "Sorry."

     I take a bite of the chicken. Which thankfully, isn't slimy. I try to stab a green bean, but it just flops off my fork. It's so overlooked it's disgusting. I try it and it also tastes like bacon. Next, I try the roll which somehow has the slightest bacon flavor.

     "Why does everything taste like bacon?" I ask.
     "It's southern food." Fitz reminds me.
     "Right."

    After dinner, I was told to wash dishes.

   "Do we have a volunteer dishwasher?" His mother asked.
   "Gray can do it," His Grandma says.
   "You just got volun-told," Fitz says.
   "Nice one." I say.

    I walk to the sink and see a heaping pile of dishes. Great. I fill up the sink and start washing. After I finish a couple dishes. Two hands wrap around my chest and work their way up to my boobs. If those hands belonged to Fitz I would have turned around and kissed him. However, they did not in fact belong to Fitz. They were wrinkled, fat and hairy.

     "Ah!" I say and push the hands off of me.
     "That would be Albert." Says a woman. I turn around and see Lola.

    "Lola!" I say and hug her.
    "Hey! I heard he proposed!" She says. I nod and gesture to the ring sitting in the counter. I took it off to wash dishes.
    "He did." I say.
    "At a pizza place? When he told me about died. How unromantic is that? Afterwards did you get a free "pizza! pizza!"" She says, like the commercial.
   "It wasn't that bad. The pizza place was our pizza place. Where we had our first date. So, I was impressed." I say.

    "I guess it's not so bad. Are you already washing dishes? Didn't you just get here?" Lola says.
    "I was volun-told." I say.
    "You sound like Fitzgerald." She comments.
    "I guess so." I say. "It's so good to see you!"
I say and give her another hug. She looks around the kitchen.

    "I'm surprised you hugged me." She says.
    "Why? Your the only person Fitz is related to that I actually like." I say.
    "You know I'm a lesbian, right?" She says.
    "Your uncle literally just had his hands on my boobs. I think I can hug you." I say. She laughs.
    "I think I like you more than any of my actual family, too." She says. I smile.