Page 84 of Trusting the Fall
Two Weeks Later
Iholdmysideas laughter tears through me again as I talk with Leif’s mum, Freya. His whole family is here tonight, celebrating the opening of Parlour Tricks Beauty.
I had my first official ‘meet the parents’ dinner last weekend.
I almost threw up in my handbag the entire drive over there, but as soon as I stepped through the door, the nerves dissolved.
Leif’s mum was on me like a pig in mud, ecstatic that her son had brought a girlfriend over.
She demanded to know everything about my life, and in turn, shared everything she could about Leif. That he’s always been a proud family man, a doting protector to his sisters, giving and loyal to his friends, a hard worker and a kind man.
Basically, all the things I had assumed myself, but made me fall a little harder hearing all the ways his family saw him.
The love within Leif’s family is unlike anything I’ve seen. They’re the kind of family you see in movies.
They joked and laughed with each other, passing affection around like candy. They truly enjoyed each other’s company, and I found myself wanting to linger in their soothing love. Snatching it for myself.
Later that night, when Leif was asking me how I felt, I told him how lucky he was to have such a big and loving family.
I cried when he told me he and Lex were my family, and he’d share his with me, but if I was really set on a big one, he’d make me one. Then he fucked me silly.
Leif’s dad, William, joins us with a big smile on his face, waving behind him before focusing all his attention on his wife, wrapping a firm arm behind her so he can pull her into his side. I’ve not had much experience witnessing loving, functioning couples. But these two are a shining example.
“What are you doing?” Freya asks, words laced with playful teasing.
“Rejoining you, my love.” And he says it with all the devotion a person could possibly muster when talking to the one they share their life with.
After spending some time with Leif’s parents, I understand where Leif’s love language comes from. He’s all about touch and words, and for a girl who previously had no faith in love, it does a lot to settle my mind and heart. I never have a moment to doubt Leif’s intentions, he’s always there showing me.
“I thought you left to get me a drink, yet your hands are empty.”
William nuzzles into Freya’s cheek. “My hands are full of you, love.”
Freya raises one unimpressed eyebrow at him, making me muffle my laugh behind my hands.
“Sorry.” He places a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Be right back.”
William makes his way through the crowd but when I turn back to Freya, she has a look full of admiration in her eyes.
“You’ll have to teach me your ways,” I say. “Having a man run around for you like that, as if you’re doing him a favour.”
“That is the key, dear.” Her bright blue eyes, the mirror image of Leif’s, look at me with earnest. “You ask just enough of them to make them feel needed, you do things for them that make them think they need you and then…” She stops to look around, as if she’s about to drop an exclusive. She leans in close to whisper in my ear, “Then you do something you would normally ask them to do, and say, ‘It’s alright, I did it myself.’ I remember William going on a fishing trip with his friends one weekend when Leif was about five. I’d been asking him to help me move the furniture around in the living room for weeks already, and when he came back after those three days, I’d done it myself. I still laugh over the fright in his eyes when he saw I’d managed it without him. I told him the neighbour’s son helped me. Nine months later, the twins were born.”
I burst out laughing, holding onto Freya’s arm.
The slight Swedish lilt in her accent as she tells her stories makes them all the more funnier. She’s direct in her words, but the tone is so musical that you know anything she says is never meant with malice. She’s mastered the role of being an independent woman and a proud matriarch. She’s a woman I’m fast finding myself looking up to with every moment spent with her.
“It sounds like trouble over here.” A warm, firm hand comes around my waist, pulling at my stomach so my back meets the hard planes of my boyfriend’s chest as he stands behind me. “Hey, Bombshell.”
“Hey, Lover Boy.” I smile over my shoulder up at Leif.
He holds a flute of champagne up in front of me. “I noticed you didn’t have a drink, and the toasts will start soon,” Leif says.
“My darling, Claire,” Freya says, fondness glittering across her features. “I have nothing to teach you.”
“Should I be concerned?” Leif says in my ear.
I turn over my shoulder to look at him with a smile.
