Just one moment

by Poppy J. Anderson

  In fact, her fabulous boyfriend had already made plans for her birthday, too. But now that her parents were visiting, she guessed it was time to tell them she had a boyfriend—and that they’d be meeting him on her birthday.

  “Would you reserve a table for the three of us, honey?” her mom asked. “How about a restaurant that serves a lot of fish? Your dad’s doctor prescribed cutting down on meat, so I don’t want to lead him into temptation by going to a steakhouse or something like that.”

  Barbara ran a hand through her hair, unsure of how to broach the subject. “Of course, Mom, I can do that. But … I’d get us a table for four.”

  Her mother let out a cheerful laugh. “That sounds even better. If you bring along your roommate, your dad won’t raise a fuss when he can’t get his medium-rare steak.”

  “Uh … Actually, I wasn’t thinking of Lily. I’d like to bring someone else, so you can meet him.”

  “Oh?” Her mother’s voice became curious all of a sudden. “Who exactly do you want us to meet, honey?”

  Barbara’s eyes flicked to her desk, where a framed photo stood. It had been there when she returned from her Thanksgiving trip. It showed her and James laughing into the camera, on a day trip to San Francisco a few weeks earlier. James had taken the selfie in front of the Golden Gate Bridge, and the fact that he’d had it framed and then sneaked it into her room while she was gone caused the butterflies in her stomach to do a happy dance every single time she looked at it. Such a sweet gesture!

  “His name is James,” she informed her mother. “He’s an economics major.”

  “Aha. And?”

  Barbara felt the tension creep into her shoulders. “We … Well … We’ve been dating for about three months.”

  “What?” Her mom let out an audible gasp. “Barbara Gabriella Ashcroft!” she scolded. “You’ve had a boyfriend for three months and didn’t say a word?”

  Barbara wrinkled her nose. “Mom, I really wish you’d named me Gabriella Barbara instead of Barbara Gabriella. None of my friends have such an old-fashioned name.”

  “Don’t change the subject, young lady! I want to know everything,” her mom demanded excitedly. “What is he like? What does he look like? Is he nice? Where did you meet him? And—”

  “Mom,” Barbara interrupted the sudden flood of words from her mother. “Could you please calm down?”

  The answering snort came promptly. “You were just home, Barbara, and you didn’t say a word. I asked you several times whether you had any news, but you didn’t mention a boyfriend. Is it really so surprising that now I want to know what kind of man your James is?”

  Barbara rose from her desk chair and moved to her bed, grabbing a pillow and putting it in her lap. She chewed her lower lip and wondered what to tell her mother. She didn’t want to sound as drunk with love as she really was, because then her mother would be horribly intrusive once she met him. But, on the other hand, it was hard not to gush.

  “You’re making me more curious by the minute, Barbara. Come on; tell me what he’s like.”

  “You’ll see when you meet him, Mom. It won’t be long.” She tried to dampen her mother’s enthusiasm, but apparently, that was sending the wrong signal.

  “Are you keeping something from me, honey? Are you pregnant?”

  “Mom!” Barbara didn’t have to look at the mirror to know she was blushing fiercely. She was grateful Lily wasn’t present to witness this embarrassing call. “Of course I’m not pregnant!”

  “Then I don’t know why you’re being so reticent.”

  Since her mom couldn’t see her rolling her eyes, Barbara did so without inhibition. “James is very nice, polite, a diligent student, and funny. Are you satisfied with that?”

  Apparently, she wasn’t. Because she sounded like an excited teenager as she squealed, “Is he handsome? Do you have a photo of him? You could—”

  “Mom, you’ll be here in a few days! Can’t you wait to see him in person? And, yes, he’s handsome.”

  “Is this a serious thing, you and him?”

  “I’ll let you know when it’s time to order the place cards for our wedding reception,” Barbara replied sarcastically, sinking back onto her mattress and squeezing her eyes shut.

  “Barbara …”

  “If you ask him questions like these on my birthday, Mom, he’ll be gone before dessert. Will you please promise to rein in your curiosity?” After a short pause, she admitted, “I like him a lot, so please tell Dad to be nice.”

  “Okay, honey. If that’s what you want.” He mother giggled. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be meeting my future son-in-law on Thursday.”

  “Lay off the sherry, Mom,” Barbara advised, slightly annoyed. “You know it doesn’t agree with you.”

  ***

  Barbara had imagined a variety of horrific scenarios over the last few days, but after half an hour of her parents and James sitting together in the restaurant, she had to concede that so far, everything was fine. Her mom hadn’t taken James’s measurements for a wedding tux, and her dad hadn’t bombarded the young man with embarrassing questions—like asking to see his bank statements.

  Instead, James had formally introduced himself to both of them, pulled out a chair for her mom, and garnered an appreciative nod from her dad when he ordered the same eighteen-year-old Macallan that he thought was the appropriate drink with which to toast Barbara on her birthday.

  Since Barbara’s mom was very strict about her underage daughter drinking—and, to be honest, Barbara wasn’t particularly keen on drinking after the Halloween disaster—she sipped her mocktail and half-nervously, half-curiously followed the conversation between her dad and James. They were talking about a mutual acquaintance who’d been a friend of James’s father for decades.

  Barbara couldn’t help studying James, who cut a dashing figure in his black suit. Her mom seemed to be impressed, too, for as soon as she’d seen the tall man with blue eyes and a dimple in his chin, she’d started beaming.

  Barbara was sure her mom was already making plans for a wedding and suppressed a private grin as she set down her glass, simultaneously listening to her dad utter a jovial laugh as he patted James on the shoulder. Much like James, her father was a tall man, but he’d gained some weight around the waist in recent years and, according to his physician, could do with a lot less work and stress. Unfortunately, he’d chosen to dismiss this advice and was still working like a madman—much to his wife’s frustration.

  Even now, his mind seemed to be occupied with work. “Now, tell me, James, what are your plans for when you graduate? With an economics degree, you shouldn’t have any problems starting out with a large company. Have you considered New York City?”

  James replied with a boyish grin. “I still have some time before I have to decide on a specific path, Mr. Ashcroft. I’m only a sophomore.”

  “That’s true.” Her dad nodded but followed it up with, “Though you should definitely remember that you’re setting the course for your entire career while in college.”

  “Dad,” Barbara warned, wrinkling her nose. “Might I ask what you think you’re doing?”

  Her father wore an innocent expression and raised his hands in a show of ignorance. “What am I doing? I’m talking to your boyfriend about his future.”

  “This isn’t some high school career day,” she chided him, a hint of sharpness in her voice. Her father had always been an eager volunteer when it came to career exploration events at her school, always lecturing about a sensible, solid education. Every time her dad had spoken in her high school auditorium, she’d wanted the earth to swallow her. “No need to lecture James regarding his future.”

  “He seems like a bright fellow. And we always need more capable people in New York. He could come intern with us during the next break—if he’s interested.”

  Barbara knit her brows in warning. “Dad.”

  “What’s wrong with that offer?”

  Before she could berate him further, James interr
upted. “Your father’s offer is extremely generous, Barbara,” he said cheerfully and very politely. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, since my dad would disown me if I decided to earn my stripes in New York instead of Virginia.”

  Her father uttered a rumbling laugh. “Very diplomatic, my boy.”

  Apparently, James was a master of small talk. “Thank you, Mr. Ashcroft. I do what I can.”

  Barbara’s dad nodded blithely and looked at her. “I like this boy. Why did you hide him from us for so long?”

  Her father wasn’t the only one looking at her. She also felt James’s eyes on her, so her cheeks were immediately aflame. “Maybe because I knew you would turn a simple dinner into a business meeting?” she mumbled.

  Her father looked at her with undeniable affection, winking at her before casually taking a business card from his jacket pocket and pushing it across the table. “Here’s my card, James. Let me know if you reconsider.”

  Barbara turned to her mother for help. “Mom!”

  Her mother cleared her throat and sat up straight with a resolute expression, patting her daughter’s hand. “So, James, what do you like to do in your spare time, when you’re not busy fending off my husband’s pushy internship offers?” She threw her husband a warning look.

  Barbara felt a strange sense of pride when James offered her mother a charming smile and pressed his leg against Barbara’s under the table. Her misgivings about this all being too overwhelming for him vanished in that instant.

  “I’ve actually spent most of the semester playing tour guide for Barbara. She has a terrible sense of direction. I also have to be diligent to keep her from running away to clown college, to be quite honest.”

  Barbara’s jaw dropped. “James!”

  He pressed his leg against hers once again, which, despite her outrage, gave her a wonderfully warm, flushed feeling that spread through her stomach.

  “Clown college?” her father repeated. “Does that really exist?”

  “Of course I’m not going to clown college,” Barbara informed her parents, while leaning closer to James and pinching his arm through his sports coat in an obvious manner, so everyone at the table could see. “If I’m not mistaken, you were the one who brought up the idea. Plus, my sense of direction is excellent, and you know it.”

  With a grin, James evaded another pinch. “Does that mean you got lost on purpose, to get me to show you around campus?”

  Barbara lifted her chin. But when she looked into James’s glittering blue eyes, she was distracted enough to forget that her parents were witnessing their playful back-and-forth.

  “It only means you had a hard time finding your car in San Francisco, while I knew exactly where we were parked.”

  James rolled his eyes in mock despair. “You keep bringing up San Francisco! That one time I had to search for the car a bit is always your trump card.”

  “I only brought it up this time because you claimed my sense of direction was terrible,” she pointed out.

  “Alright, truce.” His mischievous grin was contagious. “If it’s any consolation, I’ll let you drive in Aspen—only so we don’t get lost or lose the car again.”

  “Aspen?” her mother piped up in a perplexed voice. “You two are going to Aspen?”

  “In early February,” Barbara confirmed, hoping her mom wouldn’t scold her for not mentioning it yet. Her mom could be resentful sometimes—and the fact that she hadn’t known about James for so long must have riled her already. “James is just as passionate about skiing as I am.”

  “That sounds great,” Barbara’s dad said enthusiastically. “Eleanore also likes to ski,” he told James, “but I never got the hang of it. While she was happy to spend the entire day on the slopes, I preferred the après-ski in the evening.”

  James uttered a merry laugh, completely at ease. “Barbara and I have been playing tennis on a regular basis for a few weeks now, so we’re eager to see how we stack up at skiing. Though, to be honest, I’m dreading the competition, considering your daughter went to school in Switzerland. She’s also far better at tennis than I am,” James admitted, not the least bit embarrassed.

  Though Barbara was delighted by his compliment, she couldn’t help glancing at her mom, hoping she wasn’t miffed.

  But the enthusiastic twinkle in her mother’s eyes told Barbara that, if anything, her mom was really taken with her daughter’s boyfriend. When James started asking her about her roses, which Barbara had once mentioned to him, and confessed that he’d helped his grandmother with her garden as a kid, Barbara saw that her mother was utterly enamored with him.

  Accordingly, it didn’t surprise her when, between appetizers and the main course, her mom lured her into the restroom under a flimsy pretext, only to interrogate her there.

  “Good heavens, Barbara, he’s fantastic. Your father is so excited you found such a sensible and well-mannered boy!”

  Barbara stared into the mirror of the opulent restroom and tucked back an unruly strand of hair, registering her mother’s captivated glances as the older woman stood next to her and powdered her nose. “Dad doesn’t seem to be the only one, Mom,” she replied. “I thought you were ready to adopt James when he said he plays piano and cello.”

  Her mother gave her a good-natured jab in the ribs. “You know full well that I always wished my sons would be just a little more interested in art and music. With Patrick and Stuart, it’s more a matter of dragging them into a museum by their hair, and the only musical instrument they were ever keen on was that guitar you use with a PlayStation.” She snapped her compact shut and sighed heavily. “They’re both hopeless cases, but James is so wonderfully cultivated.”

  Barbara could barely refrain from rolling her eyes. She suddenly pictured James showing up at the Halloween party in his Fred Flintstone outfit. Not exactly what you’d call cultivated. Her voice almost betrayed her suppressed laughter as she explained, “James is interested in a lot of things, Mom, but he’s actually a totally normal twenty-one-year-old college kid.”

  Her mother gave her a beatific smile as she put her compact back into her purse. “Your dad and I are more than happy with your young man. Why don’t you bring him home when you come visit? Patrick and Stuart will want to meet him, too.”

  Barbara shifted her weight uncomfortably, as if she were standing on hot coals all of a sudden. She frantically wondered what to tell her mother to make it clear she was moving too fast. “Mom, well … James and I have only known each other a few months. Could you … uh … be a little less euphoric?”

  Her mom, who was not only a beautiful and elegant woman but hadn’t visibly aged a day in ten years, raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “Whatever do you mean, honey?”

  Barbara wrung her hands. “Please don’t suggest to him that we come visit you. That would be premature.”

  “But why?”

  Barbara took a heavy breath. “Because it might send the wrong signal.”

  Her mother cocked her head to one side, apparently not comprehending. “James is a nice young man …”

  “Exactly,” Barbara stressed. “And I don’t want to frighten off this nice young man because my parents are already picking out their outfits for our engagement party.”

  “Really, Barbara.” Her mother chuckled amusedly and patted her arm. “I don’t think James is so easily frightened off. Quite the contrary. The fact that he’s having dinner with us, all attentive and polite, sitting through your father’s boring stories with an expression that says he’s genuinely interested, tells me everything I need to know. The boy is head over heels in love with you.”

  Barbara blushed violently and avoided her mother’s knowing gaze.

  “And the fact that you’re so concerned your pushy parents might frighten him off tells me that he isn’t the only one who’s head over heels.”

  Barbara put a hand on her forehead, feeling flustered. “Can we please return to the table? This conversation is getting more and more embarrassing by t
he minute.”

  Her mother nodded with a giggle. “Okay, honey. I know how unbearable it is to spend even a few minutes apart when you’re newly in love.”

  Barbara wanted to lock her mother in one of the stalls, but instead, she followed her back into the main room, hoping that while they were gone her father hadn’t hit on the glorious idea that he should invite James to Connecticut.

  Chapter 8

  “James, look!” Barbara dropped her purse in the comfortable-looking armchair and rushed to the picture window, which afforded an amazing view of the snowy mountain and the dense forest at its bottom.

  She had to refrain from jumping up and down like an overexcited kid on Christmas Day. She was so thrilled to be on vacation in Aspen, and with James, staying in this beautiful hotel. And to finally be back on skis—she couldn’t decide what she wanted to do first! She wanted to kiss James senseless for booking what had to be the coziest room in the whole city. And then she wanted to get into her gear and ride the lift up the amazing slopes. She’d already forgotten their long journey, and the fact that they were actually rather tired after the traffic on the way to the airport, a delayed flight, and the final bus ride here. No, she was too hyped up. She’d been looking forward to this trip for months, and they were finally in Aspen.

  Her excitement was amplified by the prospect of sharing this wonderful room with its homely wood ceiling, fireplace, fluffy carpet, and gigantic bed. Sharing all that with James for a full week!

  Before she could contemplate what she had planned for that night, James moved to stand right behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “The view is so gorgeous it would almost be a shame to spend the day on the slopes.”

  Barbara tilted her head back, her nose wrinkled, and leaned against his chest. “That’s out of the question!” she scolded with a grin, looking up into his face. “No wimping out, sir. You’re the one who bragged about mad skiing skills after all. I want to see whether that was all hot air.”