Operation Marriage

Chapter Fourteen - Salad Wars

NOTE: I've literally only just noticed that both Devon and Holland's names are actually places...wow, good one, me, good one -.-

Chapter Fourteen - Salad Wars

"Are we going to stick this picture in or not? I'm not really sure." I said as Devon and I sat side by side at the back of the gym the next day. We had just finished the honeymoon pages, and now we were doing the page for the second lesson. We, or rather I, had named it: Garlic Bread? I found it hilarious, even though it really wasn't. Devon was holding a picture of the two of us holding our finished meals in our hands. In the picture, were both covered in lasagne and chocolate, but we were smiling all the same. The garlic bread looked more or less presentable, the lasagne was just a mess and the chocolate pudding resembled a mud pie But still. I looked over at Devon. He hadn't spoken much today. "You okay?" I asked. He looked totally out of it. I waved a hand in front of him and he jumped, dropping the picture.

"Yeah, we should stick the picture in, er, I mean, we look nice and-"

"Devon, are you feeling okay?" I asked firmly, cutting him off. Devon gulped and took a deep breath, slouching his shoulders. I gave him a concerned look. Devon leaned back onto his back, propping himself up with his elbows. He licked his lips and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with the same hand. He took a deep breath, nibbling his bottom lip.

"My parents. They, er, they want to meet you. Today." Devon said, putting his glasses back on and looking up at me. It had been two weeks and one day of our marriage and I had never heard him sound more nervous about anything, not even the honeymoon. I had heard him talk about his parents, but only briefly, and it had never sounded that good to be honest. I wondered why Devon hadn't told me about meeting his parents sooner. "And don't look at me like that. They are that bad. I'm serious."

"Devon. If they want to meet me, I'll come. It won't even be for that long." I said. Devon sighed. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong with your parents, or are you going to let me find out?" Devon sat up fully and placed his hands in his lap, now completely and utterly disregarding the photo of the two of us covered in lasagne and chocolate pudding.

"Oh, what the hell. I'll just tell you." Devon sat quiet for a moment before scratching the back of his neck, awkwardly. I'd never really seen Devon Jones act awkward. I had to say, he'd reduced his cockiness considerably over the past week-and-a-day. "Well, I was an unplanned child. I was a mistake. When my parents discovered what they had done, they considered abortion and stuff like that. But some impulse made them decide against it. However, from the moment I was born I was reminded frequently that I was a mistake, so from the first time I could talk I tried my hardest to impress them, to make them realise some mistakes are the best you can make. I taught myself how to draw reasonably well for a toddler. I managed to spell 'manoeuvre' when I was four. When I was six, I could recite 'Tam O'Shanter' by Robert Burns from memory-" That was seriously impressive, like, mini mastermind alert. "But no. They bought me stuff, seeing as they could afford lots, just so I would leave them alone. They bought me art pencils when I was nine, they bought me my first phone when I was eleven. And as good as that may seem, I was miserable. My parents have high expectations. And if I'm not perfect, I'm regarded as the mistake that I first was. Which totally sucks."

"Is that why you don't want me to see your parents? Because I'm not perfect enough for them?" I asked. I wasn't offended at all. I was just feeling sympathetic for Devon, the boy everyone saw as perfection was regarded as a mere mistake by his parents, no matter what he did.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but yeah. They want to meet you, but then they're just going to be horrible to you. Okay, you may be a total geeky loser, but you don't deserve to be totally disparaged by my sucky parents. That's my job, as your temporary husband. And I don't even disparage you. I just mock you when the time is perfect. I mean, the vows were beautiful, were they not?"