me.
At school, after the first-day nerves had evaporated, I’d never been too bothered about how I was perceived by my peers. But Xavier’s family was different; they actually mattered. I wanted them to like me, and I wanted them to think that Xavier’s life had been enhanced by our relationship. In short, I wanted their approval. Molly had told me no end of stories about her ex-boyfriend Kyle, whom her parents had thoroughly disapproved of, even going so far as to refuse him entry into the house. I was sure the Woods clan couldn’t object to me that strongly, but if they didn’t like me, their influence might be strong enough to affect Xavier’s feelings for me.
When Saturday came, Xavier’s car pulled into our driveway at precisely two minutes to five as arranged. We headed off toward his house, which was on the other side of town, about a ten-minute drive away. By the time we pulled into his street, I had a hundred negative thoughts whirring through my brain. What if they thought my pale complexion was due to illness or a drug addiction? What if they thought I wasn’t good enough for Xavier and that he could do better? What if I accidentally said or did something embarrassing, as I often did when I was nervous? What if his doctor parents noticed there was something different about me. Wasn’t it their job to notice? What if Claire or Nicola thought my clothes were unfashionable? Ivy had helped me choose my outfit: a sleeveless navy dress with cream buttons down the front and a round collar. It was, as Molly would say, classy and very Chanel. But everything else was still one big question mark.
“Would you just relax!” said Xavier as I ran my hands through my hair and smoothed down my dress for the tenth time since we’d left home. “I can almost hear your heart from here. They’re good, church-going people. They’re obliged to like you. Even if they don’t, which is impossible, you’ll never notice. But they’re going to love you, they already do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve told them all about you, and they’ve been dying to meet you in person for ages,” he said. “So you can stop acting like you’re going to meet the executioners now.”
“You could show a little more sympathy,” I said testily. “I have a lot to be worried about. You are so horrid sometimes!”
Xavier burst into laughter. “Did you just call me horrid?” he asked.
“I certainly did. You don’t even care that I’m nervous!”
“Of course I care,” he said patiently. “But I’m telling you that there’s nothing to worry about. My mom is already your biggest fan, and everybody else is excited about meeting you. For a while they suspected I was making you up. I’m telling you this to make you feel better, because I
“I take it back.” I said, smiling. “But you are a dunce.”
“My self-esteem is taking a serious bashing today,” he said, shaking his head. “First I’m horrid, now a dunce. .. I guess that makes me a horrid dunce.”
“I’m just worried.” My smile faded. “What if they compare me with Emily? What if they don’t think I measure up to her?”
“Beth”—Xavier cupped my face in his hands and made me look at him—“you’re incredible. They’re going to see that right away. And besides, my mom didn’t like Emily.”
“Why not?”
“She was too impulsive.”
“Impulsive how?” I asked, puzzled.
“She had some issues,” Xavier said. “Her parents were divorced, she didn’t see her dad, and sometimes she did things without thinking them through. I was always there to keep her safe, thank God, but it didn’t make her too popular with my family.”
“If you could change things and have her back, would you?” I asked.
“Emily’s dead,” Xavier said. “And that’s how life played out for us. Then you came along. I might have been in love with her then, but I’m in love with
“I’m sorry, Xav,” I said. “I just feel sometimes like you’re only with me because you lost the one you were meant to be with.”
“But can’t you see, Beth?” he insisted. “I was never meant to be with Em. I was destined to love her and lose her. You’re the one I’m meant to be with.”
“I think I understand now.” I took his hand and squeezed it lightly. “Thanks for explaining it to me. I know I sound like a baby.”
Xavier winked. “An adorable baby.”
Everything about Xavier’s home suggested comfort. It was a big, recently built neo-Georgian house with neat hedges and pillars by the shiny front door. Inside, the walls were painted white and the floors were wood parquet. The front of the house, with its plush living room, was reserved for guests, while the open area at the back, which overlooked the deck and pool, was where the family of eight spent most of their time. Deep sofas draped with fluffy throws faced a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The dining table was cluttered with a collection of girlie paraphernalia, a basket of folded laundry sat in one corner, and several pairs of sneakers were lined up by the back door. Opposite the TV was a toy corner, with a collection of Barbie dolls, trucks, and puzzles designed to keep the youngest children occupied. A ginger cat lay curled in a basket. I noticed a whiteboard on one wall where family members had scrawled messages for one another.
Maybe it had something to do with the smell of cooking in the air, or the voices calling to one another from all around the house, but the place had a welcoming feel despite its size.
Xavier led me into the large kitchen where his mother was frantically trying to finish up her cooking and tidy the house at the same time. She seemed to be doing everything at super-speed but still managed to give me a warm smile when I came in. I could see Xavier’s face in hers, right away. They both had the same straight nose and vivid blue eyes.
“You must be Beth!” she said, putting a saucepan down to simmer on the stove and coming over to hug me. “We’ve heard so much about you. I’m Bernadette — but you can call me Bernie, everyone does.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Bernie. Do you need any help?” I asked immediately.
“Now, that’s something I don’t hear very often around here,” Bernie said.
Taking my arm, she showed me a stack of napkins to fold and plates to dry. Xavier’s father wandered in from where he’d been lighting the barbecue on the deck under the shade provided by triangular white sails. He was tall and lanky with a thatch of brown hair, and wore round glasses like a professor. I could see where Xavier got his stature from.
“Got her doing housework already,” he said with a chuckle, shaking my hand and introducing himself as Peter.
Giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Xavier went to help his father with the barbecue. While I helped Bernie set the table, I looked around at the wonderful domestic disorder of this house. A baseball game was playing on the TV; I could hear the sounds of running feet upstairs as well as someone rehearsing a very basic piece on the clarinet. Bernie bustled around me, carrying platters to the table. It was all so gloriously normal.
“I’m sorry the place is such a mess,” Bernie said apologetically. “It was Jasmine’s birthday a few days ago, and it’s been chaos around here.”
I smiled. It didn’t matter to me how messy the place was — I felt surprisingly at home.
“I told you not to touch my razor blades,” someone shouted, and I heard the sound of feet stomping downstairs.
Xavier, who had come in to collect some plates, gave an exaggerated sigh. “Now would be a good time to make your escape,” he murmured to me.
“For God’s sake, you have a whole pack, stop your whining,” another voice replied.
“That was my last one, and now it’s got your gross skin cells all over it.” A door slammed and a girl with brown curls pulled back from her face with a headband appeared. She was wearing a red tank top and lycra shorts, as though she had been exercising. “Mom, can you make Claire stay out of my room?” she demanded.
“I didn’t go in your room. You left them in the bathroom,” Claire called through the door.
“Why don’t you just move out and live with Luke already?” her sister yelled back.
“Believe me, I would if I could.”
“I hate you! This is so unfair.” The girl seemed to suddenly notice my presence and took a break from
