Love Expectations (Season 1 of Nata and Phillip's Romance) ✔️

36. 'Relax'

Nata

My stomach tugs and my armpits might need another layer of deodorant. Meeting the parents part of the relationship with Samson took so long I had plenty of time to mentally prepare myself. If I could've avoided meeting Phillip's father for another couple of months, so we could combine the meet-and-greet with the "you'll be a grandpa" announcement, I'd still be a mess but at least I could get both interactions out of the way in one day.

After the pregnancy test number six still showed a version of plus signs, positive, and pregnant pronouncements, Phillip was going to call his dad with the good news. Making him promise to wait till I'm at least twelve weeks along meant I had to promise to sacrifice my Sunday and meet Tom. I rest my palm on my stomach. The doctor's appointment on Wednesday will be the final confirmation and maybe we get to do the first ultrasound, although the nurse on the phone said that even with almost five weeks since my last period, there won't be much we could see yet.

The neighborhood I'm driving through says ultra-rich without any signs. The house I drive up to has a semicircle of a driveway and could illustrate the word 'mansion' in the dictionary. I smooth my pencil skirt and tug down the blouse I bought at Zara and wear if I have to impress a trendy crowd. Phillip said to dress casually, but I'm glad I pulled all the stops. My bag—my parents' gift for my thirty-fifth birthday—is a small Chanel clutch I would've never splurged on myself. Kate's instructions over a video call on how to apply makeup left me exhausted, but helped calm my nerves. I look put together. Everything I could do in advance to ensure I make a good impression is done.

I take three steps to the front door when it opens, and an older man in a gray suit comes out of the house, takes my keys, and instructs me to go right in. "They're expecting you."

The entrance door is heavy wood, with two sides that look like each would weigh a literal ton. I walk in through the side that's left ajar. The two-story round entryway with a massive round marble table in the middle decorated with a tall vase of flowers that manages to dwarf the table sends my pulse into my throat. The high heels of my shoes–the final piece of my protective armor for this meeting–click as I approach the grand double staircase that winds up to the second floor. A wide hallway leads inside the house.

"Hello?" I say into the empty room.

Whoever 'they' are who were supposed to be expecting me are nowhere to be seen. Phillip texted me before I left that he's already here helping his father to get ready. I put my hand on the railing of the stairs on the left and take the first step up.

"Hello? Phillip?" My voice echoing off the high ceiling is the only sound I hear.

Should I just stand here and wait? Would it be rude of me to go upstairs? Should I check the hallway instead? My knees tremble, and my fingers grip the wooden railing. This feels exactly like every time I came to the new school in a new country and had to navigate the new building, kids, teachers, and culture. What will they think of me? Will they like me? I never grew out of the wrecking ball of anxiety that came with those introductions. The prospect of dinner makes my stomach roil.

Being a third culture kid taught me many things: languages, starting over, but I never learned how to feel right at home in new environments. My hackles rise, and my mind serves me with dangers and doomsday scenarios: what if I messed up the day? What if Phillip lied and his father didn't want to meet me? What if the guy who took my keys had nothing to do with this house and was just stealing my car? I take another step up.

"Ms. Boyko?" A voice behind me halts my progress. An elegant woman in a beige ensemble strolls out the hallway behind the table. Her gray-blond curls touch her shoulders. Her makeup is done better than mine. Didn't Phillip's mom die? This must be his stepmother or his father's girlfriend. Do people that age have girlfriends? I back down the stairs and force a smile onto my lips.