more phil collins love in this story. you're welcome.
look at this. just look - http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lossmtLCpt1qhgi50o1_500.png
& if you didn't see analeigh at the crazy stupid love premiere, she looked really cute - http://www.fashionweekdaily.com/chic-report/article/look-of-the-daily-analeigh-tipton-in-jmendel
I woke up to the sound of the old wooden door creaking open, finding myself in my old bedroom once again. As I sleepily opened my eyes, I saw Jake closing the door behind him, fresh from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. He pulled it off, rubbing it on his wet hair for a few seconds, leaving himself butt-naked.
“Now that is something I like to wake up to,” I murmured, flashing him a mischievous smile as he turned around.
“What about the front view?” he asked.
“Mmm. Also excellent.”
“Stop staring at my package.”
I flicked my eyes up to meet his, grinning sheepishly. As I did, there was a light knock on the door.
“Just a second,” I said, swinging my legs out of bed and walking over to the door. Jake quickly pulled on underwear and jeans as I opened it to find my mother waiting patiently.
“Am I interrupting anything?” she asked, trying to peer around the door.
I sighed, opening it wider so she could see Jake, who was standing around with no shirt on. “Just Jake getting dressed. Wow, you’re really taking your quest for grandchildren to new levels.”
“Well, I could offer you the bed where you were conceived...”
I slapped my hands over my ears, shutting my eyes tight. “Oh god. Go away, please.”
“Come down and have breakfast. We’re going to the country club later.”
“Country club?” Jake asked with a laugh, once she’d left. “Could you be more of a WASP?”
“Shut up, we’re not WASPs, we’re Catholic. We have that whole guilt thing... WASPs have it easy.”
“Whatever,” he shrugged, flicking me with his shirt. “Can you put some pants on please?”
I stuck my tongue out at him, pulling on a breakfast-appropriate outfit and following him out to the back porch, where breakfast was, again, this time with more food. I think my mother usually overestimated how much food she should give Jake, but he never complained. I sat in my chair with my legs crossed under me, picking at a bagel with my fingers like a kid. I really did turn into one if I was around my parents long enough.
My mother and I talked about the neighbours for a while, until the conversation fell away into a comfortable silence, interrupted by my dad who had taken it upon himself to be Jake’s financial adviser.
“So are they doubling your salary next year?” he asked matter-of-factly.
“They better /at least/ double it,” I interjected, licking cream cheese off my fingers.
“We haven’t had any meetings yet,” he shrugged.
“It’s got to be a $4mil starting point,” I said, turning to face Jake with my legs dangling over the arm of the chair. “And I’d think you’d have to get at least $5mil. I know I’m obliged to say it anyway because I’m your girl but you are really on fire this season, baby, you deserve that money.”
Jake looked uncomfortable, staring down at his hands. I leaned forward, looking at him intently.
“Listen, you don’t have to be embarrassed talking about money here. We don’t judge. Do you know how much money that man sees in a day?” I asked, jerking my thumb towards my dad. “It’s ridiculous. Plus, the more money you have, the happier he’ll be that I’m marrying you.”
He began to look relaxed, smiling slightly. “To be honest? Anything over what I already get now is excessive. We don’t need that money, really, I’ve already saved a lot. So my agent and I worked out... if I did get five, say. I give some to my mother, but she refuses to take more than a million... and she puts probably 75% of what I do give her to charity anyway. Then I’d put another $2mil into charity myself. Which gives us $2mil to live off, plus your income. The numbers might change, but the ratios would stay the same. I don’t think our life would be particularly hard, money-wise.”
“Two million dollars,” I sighed, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead. “Woe is me.”
Jake laughed, reaching out to hold my left hand. “It’s weird, you know,” he said, running his thumb over my engagement ring a few times. “I had nothing growing up. I mean, I spent my life in a poor town. And two years in housing projects on a reservation. I know you don’t know what that’s like, but... it’s tough. So now we’re discussing things in millions of dollars and it’s just so... bizarre.”
“It’s not, really. I mean, you’re very talented, you worked hard, and you never let it go to your head... I think you give fate too much credit, you deserve to be here.”
He nodded, though I knew it would take him years to actually believe it. My mother cleared her throat, looking at us both with a smile. We dropped the salary talk for the rest of the meal, returning instead to gossiping about people we knew.
Jake and I spent time in the morning running around with Ash outside, tiring him out in the hopes that he might sleep for a week after we got back. He’d really never been off-leash somewhere so big, and was loving it. To be honest... so was I. The more I thought about it, the more I pictured the house as somewhere to live now.
Eventually we had to get changed for Jake’s first country club visit, apparently a momentous event for him. Dad came downstairs dressed in his golfing finest - complete with an argyle vest that had me rolling my eyes.
I watched Jake’s wide-eyed astonishment as we pulled up outside, greeted warmly by the staff and other patrons, all who seemed to remember us. Most of them greeted Jake by name, too, either knowing him by being Red Sox fans, or through their gossiping skills.
“Stop thinking you don’t belong here,” I murmured into his ear, our fingers interlacing. The corners of his mouth turned upwards, and I considered my job done. We walked through to the bar, grabbing some drinks before heading out to the outdoor area overlooking the golf course. Dad was already chatting away with his buddies, the most talkative I’d seen him the whole time we’d been here.
“Okay, I could get used to this,” Jake said, grinning as he sipped a beer. “But no more forcing me to drink.”
I sucked down my mojito, which tasted amazing in the hot sun. “Aww, fine. I promise I won’t get you drunk.”
We stayed for lunch and well into the afternoon, still catching up with old friends, and showing off Jake. Again, Mom was insistent on cooking dinner, so we eventually went back to the house, and locked herself in the kitchen as Dad sat outside, listening to the radio.
I was standing over the record player, flipping through the vinyl collection that the past residents had cultivated and were still yet to pick up, along with most of their furniture. Grinning when I found one I loved, I pulled out the Genesis vinyl and placed it precariously on the turntable, the first few notes of Invisible Touch blasting a little louder than I’d anticipated.
Jake, sitting on the couch, looked up at the noise, and I serenaded him with the first verse, pulling him to his feet. “Don’t act like you don’t know the words,” I grinned.
“Oh, I never said I didn’t.”
He spun me around, joining my singing and dancing until we were wrapped in each others’ arms, making out. We enjoyed it for a few moments until my mother cleared her throat behind us. I pulled my lips from Jake’s very hesitantly, glancing over at her.
“Oh no, keep going,” she grinned. “Remember, grandchildren before I die.”
“That’s rather morbid, Mom. You’re not very old.”
She shrugged, returning to the kitchen. Jake just looked at me and laughed.
“I used to think your family was normal,” he told me the next day as we drove home. “But now I realise that you guys are just as weird as the rest of us.”