Forelsket (George Harrison)

CHAPTER SEVEN

| SEVEN |

REESE

"Emma!"

I blinked.

The notion of what had just happened was utterly difficult to sink in my mind. I was quite nonchalant with the conversation I had with Deb. But, damn, did I just have a conversation with the George Harrison? All those "love is overrated" but the actual notion of having the opportunity to talk with him was more than that.

"Emma . . ."

I looked up to see the concern plastered on Debby's face. "Uh, sorry . . . Yes?"

She took a seat beside me. "So . . .?"

Just when I was about to respond, we heard a knock on the door. I was about to stand when she lifted her hand as a gesture that she'd be the one to open it. Eric, Deb's husband, entered the house and immediately pecked on her cheek.

"How's your day, Hon?" Deb asked.

"It was alright," he answered. "How about you?'"

"We're doing just fine, our son is asleep upstairs," Deb answered. "We planned about shopping some clothes later."

He nodded. "Oh, I see . . ."

"We prepared food for lunch," Deb said, with a smile on etched on her face, as she was scurrying towards the kitchen. "You, two, should head to the dining room. I'd bring the food there."

I stood. "Oh, I'll help."

She turned to me. "That will be great, Emma. But it's fine, actually."

I shook my head. "No, I insist."

"Fine," she sighed in defeat. I smiled and followed her.

What ignited me this sense of wonder and utter amazement was the notion of getting to spend time with my "future" grandparents – young and in love. Everything seemed to be completely absurd, though. It was definitely incredulous, for sure. But the notion of it! I'd rather stay in this wonderful dreamland.

It was perfectly surreal, indeed.

I was quite oblivious that a smile was already making its way on my face when Deb pointed out how I seemed to be happy. I shook my head and uttered nothing. We placed the food that we had prepared on the table and then ate in silence.

The silence was deafening. The only sound emitting was the clinking of the utensils, nothing else. Eric's actions seemed rather stiff. Looking as though he was itching to get out of the room, I noticed Deb gazing at him with eyebrows scrunched together. Before she could notice me looking at her as well, I diverted my attention away from them and back to the food. The swelling eerie silence in the air was definitely peculiar.

Were they usually acted kind of awkward in this time?

Without any warning, Deb hastily cleared her throat. When I looked at her, she flashed a small smile and shifted her focus to Eric.

"So, how's your work?" Deb asked her husband.

"Fine," he muttered without even looking at her.

Deb seemed to scrutinize her husband with a deepening frown. Noticing how she did not carry the conversation on, he took a glance at her. The moment she did not speak again, the awkward silence returned but the air seemed to fill with suppressed irritation.

I felt the second-hand embarrassment that Deb must had felt when her husband did not even make an effort to ask her what was wrong. I wished the ground would swallow me up, though. It was so damn awkward, you know. If only I could do something about it. Before any of us could utter a single word, Eric stood.