“But they’re not excuses if they’re true. I’m getting old and fat, Brad is young and virile. He should be able to have a crazy youth like we did without being held to rights by me. We’ve seen guys his age stray time and again, and that’s when their girlfriends are also young and super hot. I’m just…” I shrug, unsure what else to say.
“Babe, I understand where you’re coming from. I really do. But I just think you’re being really unfair to Brad when he seems genuinely committed to you.”
“Don’t you think he deserves the chance to figure out his youth, though? To have the space to sleep around and have fun and do all the wild and stupid things we did without feeling obligated to rein himself in?” I ask, more uncertain than I was when we started this conversation.
“And don’t you think he deserves to make that decision about his life himself, rather than have you make it for him?”
My chin drops to my chest as I feel my lower lip start to wobble.
But what if I give him my heart, and he proves that all my concerns are valid?
11
YOU’RE FORTY??
BRAD
29th July2023
Shari is almost paralysedwith anxiety as I knock on my parents' door before letting us in. She’s been trying to psych herself up for this all week, but clearly her nerves won the battle.
“We're here!” I call out as I shut the door behind me.
My mum comes rushing into the hallway to greet us. She's been so excited to meet Shari, even if I haven't really told my parents too much about her. I didn't want to colour their expectations before they had a chance to really get to know her.
“Brad, sweetheart, I've missed you!” She pecks me on the cheek and turns to Shari, who has a death grip on my hand. “And you must be Shari!” She pauses as her eyes roam Shari’s face.Come on, Mum, play nice.She clears her throat and shakes her head as if to also clear her thoughts. “It's nice to meet you. Brad never brings girls home, so this is uncharted territory for us!” She steps forward and air kisses my girlfriend’s cheeks. Can I callher my girlfriend? We haven't actually talked about what we are since I asked her last week. Probably should.
“Mrs Quinlan, thank you so much for inviting me to lunch. Brad's told me a lot about you.”
My mother has pulled back but is still gently gripping Shari's shoulders as she scans her face again. With a tight smile, her eyes flick my way. “Don't believe anything he tells you about having a hard childhood. This boy was spoilt beyond belief! And please, call me Grace.”
Dad appears in the kitchen doorway, wiping his hands on a towel. “That was all your doing, dear,” he declares with a sparkle in his eye, and I don't miss my mother's responding eye roll.
“Yes, well, you were too busy being wrapped around Hettie's little finger.” She winks at me and then grabs Shari's elbow to guide her into the kitchen. My father introduces himself with a handshake and a hug before they all head through the doorway, and I take a moment to gather myself.
So far, so good, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about the furrow of my mother's brow when she looked at Shari. She genuinely looks ten years younger than she actually is, but even that would still put her at eight years my senior. I just really hope my parents can keep open minds here.
I take a deep breath and get a lungful of roast chicken and freshly baked bread. It’s the smell of rainy Sundays after football and early mornings before heading out for a surf. It’s the smell of home, and it helps centre me.
My father's just on the other side of the doorway when I step through, and he murmurs, “Got yourself a looker there, son. And older than you too! There's something to be said for an experienced woman.” He waggles his eyebrows and I cringe.
“Dad. No. Don't be that guy.”
I see the concern leech into his expression as he really looks at me. “You really like this one. I was only joking, Brad. She seems lovely. Truly.”
I blow out a breath. “Sorry. I know you were joking. I'm just nervous, I do really like her, and yes, she's older, but she keeps trying to use that as a reason for us not to be together, so I'm just...I'm worried if other people harp on about it that'll just solidify her fears.”
His eyes roam my face, and he looks like he's about to say something further when Mum calls us through to the dining room to take a seat.
My sister, Hettie, is already sitting at the table, typing away on her phone. “Hets, can you put your phone away for two minutes? I want you to meet Shari.”
Without even looking up, she childishly mimics, “Put your phone away, meh meh meh,” before she realises what I said, and she pauses to look up.
“Oh shit! Sorry, Mum said you were bringing a girl home, but I thought you were winding her up!” She stands abruptly, making her chair screech backwards at a teeth-clenching decibel.
I roll my eyes at her and place my hand on Shari's lower back, “Not a wind up, this is Shari. Shari, this is my older – if you can believe it by her lack of maturity – sister, Hettie.”
Hettie shoves me away and pulls Shari into an overbearing hug. She's always been really touchy-feely and I'm worried Shari might feel incredibly uncomfortable with her over-familiarity. But I needn't have been concerned, because I watch Shari visibly melt into my sister's embrace.
