Jump Start

26. Twenty-six

Twenty-six

Harper

“ S houldn’t we just stay the night? Seems ridiculous to drive all the way there and back in a day,” I asked Thomas as I slid under the covers of his bed. He was changing into his pyjama bottoms, and I was enjoying the show as he undressed.

“Trust me, we’ll want an exit. I rarely stay out there anymore,” he responded as he hopped into bed with this laptop to check emails.

“One day you’ll tell me what happened with them, right?” I looked over at him, wishing he would just pour his thoughts out and let me sort through them.

“Harps, nothing happened.” That was a lie. I decided not to push.

He sensed my unease and placed a hand on my thigh.

“Better get to sleep. Big day tomorrow. You’ll be the highest, most mighty passenger princess there ever was,” he said as he leant over and kissed me on the cheek.

“Good night!” I answered cheerily, even though I felt anxiety building in my stomach. Not only from Thomas not confiding in me but the prospect of meeting his entire family.

I knew he wasn’t telling me the entire truth, and I wouldn’t push him for it, but I did wish he would let me in just a little further.

He wanted me to move in with him, which was certainly letting me in, but I wanted to connect with him emotionally, too. There would be a time and place for this conversation, but this was not it.

As I lay there, I thought of the first few times I had stayed over at Thomas’s house. I’d felt uneasy, mainly because of all the noises outside. The large gum trees that surrounded his property would fling gum nuts onto the tin roof, and there were cows and animals faintly calling out to each other in the distance. I was a city girl. I wasn’t used to all these extra night-time noises. I knew living in the city was loud, but I found the constant drum of traffic, sirens, and people’s voices considerably more calming.

***

Once again, Thomas’s alarm woke me up from a state of deep dreaming. I hadn’t slept too well, and I cursed myself in my mind for worrying about the next day while trying to fall asleep. Thomas’s family would like me, or they wouldn’t, and when Thomas was ready, he would open up to me.

I woke up in complete darkness only to see a sliver of light peeking through the bedroom door. Thomas was already up. He must have set two alarms, as he often did. One for him to get up and be ready and the second to wake me up.

I slowly emerged from the bedroom and trudged towards the kitchen after getting ready. There was something about putting a sun dress on at six o’clock in the morning that felt unnatural to me.

Thomas spotted me as he sipped his coffee, reading on his iPad, as I found him most mornings.

“There she is. In my favourite sundress, she looks cute, but looks could also kill.” Sarcasm with a hint of flirtiness, just the way I liked it.

I managed a faint smile and made my way to the coffee machine where I found an already-made, steaming hot latte for me.

I picked it up and let the warm, strong coffee make its way down my throat.

“Mmm, thanks for the coffee,” I said, walking over to Thomas. He looked calm and well-rested, wearing a pair of tan shorts and a white T-shirt with a picture of his ‘baby’ on the front.

“Why have I not seen this T-shirt before?” I asked, loaded with sarcasm as I sat down beside him.

“Well, Harper, this one is saved for special occasions only.”

“I am so lucky.”

***

Driving with Thomas was one of my favourite things to do. Whether it was fast or slow, I didn’t care, as long as he was in control. I always felt safe with him, not necessarily because he was a race car driver, but because I knew he would take care of me. I knew this even before we admitted how we felt.

“Since you’re coming with me to meet my parents, you can choose the music,” Thomas blurted out of nowhere when we were not far from his house.

I pointed to myself with a surprised expression.

“Me? In charge of the music?” I knew he was just trying to calm my nerves, but I appreciated it.

“Yes, choose away, Harps.” He punctuated his comment by playfully swatting my thigh. Except he kept his hand there.

My tastes were not completely left field from his, just a little more indie, less heavy.

“Will The Killers do?” I asked and put the song on anyway.

He nodded his head and started to hum.

“I knew you were softer than you looked!” I yelled energetically over the music he’d just made louder. He didn’t respond, just smirked at me slightly.

I was looking forward to seeing where Thomas grew up. His parents had been running a successful racehorse stud out of the Hunter Valley in New South Wales for longer than Thomas had been alive. Leonard Jackson and Trudy Henry met when they were very young. Leonard had come from a long line of horsemen and women, and Trudy was the daughter of a local politician in country New South Wales, something I would love to speak to her in more depth about one day. All of this I sourced myself from the internet and not their unwilling son.

My approach to love and relationships was different to his. I was happy to see how things went and be reasonable, realistic and open to communication. Thomas’s idea was to either give it no attention or seemingly smother it. This was likely a harsh evaluation, but I was beginning to see that he was afraid to lose things once he had them. Keeping this in mind, I tried to assure him often that I wasn’t going anywhere. I knew he needed that reassurance from me. That was something I could always give him.

“Are you even listening to me?” Thomas’s voice snapped me out of my daydream.

I shook my head. “Oops! No.”

“I said, I like this song, who’s it by?”

“Oh, yeah, I love these guys. They’re called Reeds. The lead singer is from Sydney but lives in Canada now.” Thomas indicated off the highway and turned an air-conditioning vent further to face him.

“Nice, I like it.” I felt that was as good an endorsement as any from a heavy metal fan.

As we winded down a beautifully lush road surrounded by horses grazing in the distance, and gum trees reaching over towards each other, I noticed Thomas shift in his seat. We must be getting closer.

“Are we nearly there?” I asked trying to sound casual, and not spike his already heightened anxiety. His reply was outwardly calm, at least from my point of view.

“Yep, just a few hundred metres more and we’ll be there.”

I hoped this trip would help me learn more about him and understand him more deeply. I wanted to know everything about him—what he was like as a boy, what his favourite cereal was, I didn’t want anything left unknown. I would only be satisfied when both of us knew everything about each other.