In six months, Gwen Johnston turns thirty, and when she does, she vows she'll have her life together. She'll no longer be jumping from one job to another, from one relationship to the next. A new, more mature, Gwen will have emerged. She's giving he...
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I'm not nervous. At least that's what I keep telling myself as I follow the familiar roads that take us closer to my parents' house. Ash, Paige, and the kids are there visiting this week, and Blake and I managed to get a long weekend away from the Northern Canada Project to be here.
I've jumped out of planes, faced a pair of bears, mushed dogs through wintery terrain—the idea of the love of my life meeting my family shouldn't instill fear. But I so badly want them to love him, and Blake can be reserved and hard to read in social situations. Or at least, that's how he was on our trip.
At work, he's a different man—in charge, totally in control, and the few trips we've taken north together, his bedside manner is inspiring. No matter what the issue is—grave or minor—he treats everyone with care and understanding. His gentleness always makes my chest ache, and it's incredible to see him truly in his element—the confidence he exudes. It makes me appreciate how much he stretched himself outside his comfort zone while we were traveling together.
I'm not one hundred percent sure which version of him will step through my parents' door to greet my family. Reserved Blake or bedside manner Blake. Maybe I can bribe one of the kids to fake an injury or ailment and then my family can see Blake in doctor mode.
Blake's hand lands on my thigh, and he squeezes before running his hand down my leg. "You're in your head about something," he says, and there's a hint of teasing concern in his tone.
"Nope. Just excited for everyone to meet you."
He chuckles. "Funny, I've seen you excited a lot, and it's never looked like this."
"I'm trying out a new version of excited."
"I think I prefer the old version—the one where you're actually excited."
"I'm just like... Maybe a tiny bit nervous."
"You?" His lips tip up with amusement. "I guess you were a bit nervous when I was meeting Izzy and her boyfriend."
And the stakes feel much higher this time. Blake and I were still on the cusp of getting together then. If Izzy hadn't liked him, it might have just meant we didn't do double dates or couple things in the future. Izzy would still be my friend. Family is different—holidays and celebrations would be strained and devoid of joy if Blake didn't fit into my little crew.
He will, though. He will.
Ahead, I see the driveway of my parents' modest two story. There's a rented van already beside my parents' compact car, and I can just squeeze our rental in behind my parents'. Blake gets out and stretches before grabbing our bags from the backseat.
He holds his hand out for mine, and I slide my fingers along his. There's something so comforting about the simple action. No matter what, Blake and I have each other. I've never been so sure of anyone or anything as I am about his place in my life.
