Two days spent in solitude without speaking to anyone besides Will and occasionally, Myra was somewhat lonely. I received calls from Will every day complaining about how many people he had to meet and all the travelling he had to do. He told me about the annoying beds in the hotel and the posh clients his father worked for. He also took from his boredom and advised me not to go to Portland, which was odd considering I had always heard good things about that place.
I ended my daily call with Will and waited for the sun to start its downfall, so six could pass on the clock. That was the time that I was supposedly meeting up with him after his parents insisted upon inviting me over for dinner when they came back from their trip. Will guaranteed me that I didn't have to wear anything fancy since it was just dinner, but I wanted to make a good impression since I knew they were high-class people. So I went against Will's words and tried my best to dress up somewhat nicely with the clothes I had.
I stared at myself through the mirror, eyeing what I had put on. The emerald-coloured shirt without fabric on the shoulders was tucked into the black skirt that reached just above my knees. It was short enough to be considered formal, but not much longer to be seen as some sort of prude, which was good. My mascara was a light coat like always. I never like wearing too much makeup. It always made me uncomfortable and eye shadow was no exception, so a small drag across the eyelid was more than enough to please my appearance.
It wasn't long before time passed and I was on the road, following my GPS to the address I was given.
Seventeen minutes later, I was pulling up to a broad driveway with bright lights and perfectly trimmed grass. The road up here alone was beautiful, I couldn't imagine what the house must have looked like on the inside.
I spent even more time looking at the exterior of the building-like residence than actually walking up to the front door and ringing the doorbell. (Which I should have been doing all along if I hadn't been so distracted by the house.) Places like this only existed in the movies I watched on my laptop or the fancy magazines that my mother displayed on her coffee table back home.
"What are you doing?" Will chuckled at my astonishment from the large door.
"Your house is beautiful!" I informed him as if he had no clue he was the one actually living there.
"You should tell that to my father. I'm sure he'll love the compliment." He laughed.
"So how was your flight back?" I change the subject.
"It was great. How were classes?" He grinned and pulled open the large front door to urge me in. And as I had suspected, the interior was just as attractive as the outside.
"They were good. You have a lot to catch up on but I've got all the notes." I said, taking in everything around me.
The whole space was easy on the eyes, lovely to look at with its modern touch of decorations. Will guided me past a giant-sized living room that was adorned by picture frames of his family, some on vacations and others at events. They all seemed so happy with their expensive smiles I could have thought they were actually really close if it wasn't for Will telling me the opposite.
"William!" A woman's voice shouted from a different room.
"I'm here!" He shouted back, then turned to me, whispering. "I apologise for dinner in advance. This afternoon will be very unpleasant." I shook my head and playfully rolled my eyes at his sarcasm.
We entered the kitchen shortly after Will's comment and it came to me that the size of this room alone was bigger than the entire apartment I shared with Myra.
"Mom, this is Emma." He pointed at me.
His mother eyed me from head to toe like a scanner would at an airport, and I felt my throat dry up from her stare until a faint smile appeared and she walked over to me with open arms.
"It's lovely to meet you, Emma." She took me in her arms and I looked at Will who only observed in a subtle amusement.
"It's lovely to meet you too Mrs Jones." I smile and hug her back softly.
Then she pulled away and graced herself upon the kitchen, checking that the pot she had boiling on the stove wasn't spilling over the brim.
"I'm making pasta, I hope you're hungry." She stated, unthinking.
"Very," I answered and turn to Will. She didn't seem so bad...
"I'm going to show Emma around for a bit okay? Let me know when dad gets here."
"Don't be too long."
Will pulled me away from the kitchen into the hallway almost immediately after his mother had finished speaking.
"She's lovely," I tell him truthfully.
"She doesn't cook..." He told me and we walked down a hallway.
"What do you mean? She's cooking right now..." I point back at the door where we came from.
"Yes, because you're here. They do things like this just for appearances. To look good for other people, not because they're actually like that. She told Sana, our personal chef, to take the night off. Trust me, they're just trying to impress you." He looked down in disappointment while leaning against the wall and sticking his hands in his pockets.
"They don't have to impress me..." I inform him. "I'm the one trying to impress them! I saw the way your mom looked at me when she first saw me. She probably thinks I'm an abnormal freak by now." I shrug and look over my clothes. "I mean look at me, Will. I don't belong in a place like this." I chuckle quietly.
Will raised his head with a tilted frown.
"Of course you do. You're my friend, you're always welcome here despite what they may think of you." I smiled faintly in appreciation of his comment. "I just don't want you to get the wrong idea of them because they cooked you dinner and acted nice. There's a lot that people just assume about my family and none of it is true. Those pictures you saw when we came in? Right after they were taken they fought and I had to go drive them to the hospital. But to them, they aren't memories. They are pictures that describe a flawless family that doesn't exist."
His shoulders hunched over and he stroked the carpet with the tip of his shoe. His brown hair fell over his forehead as he looked down and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him as I watched him. Because to him, it didn't matter how much money he had. I guess it was worth nothing if he couldn't have anyone to share it with. Especially his family.
A few minutes later, we were being called into a dining room space with a massive long table and neatly placed cutlery. I was almost intimidated by all of the fancy things in front of me. I had never been around so many expensive things at once, and I was sure that if I dropped one, the fine treasures would be shattered on the even-more expensive floors.
"William, my boy." A deep-voiced man appeared from behind a corner and approached Will with a proud smile. His tailored suit fit his broad shoulders tightly and the tie he paired brought out his dark coloured eyes.
"Hey, dad." He shook his father's hand, firmly.
"You must be Emma." He smiled down at me and stretched out a hand for me too. I rose from my chair and took it, nervously, giving it a terrible shake - that I'm sure he noticed by the way he grimaced - "How are you?" He forced a smile.
"I'm very good." I looked around the house to gesture that I was going to talk about something else. "You have a lovely home," I said, doing as Will sarcastically suggested before.
Dimples infatuated his wide smile as he savoured the compliment.
"Thank you. That's very kind." He took a seat at the head of the table as if it somehow gave him more power. Will took the seat next to me and gave an apologetic smile that he dismissed as soon as his father looked over.
Mrs Jones brought over her delicately garnished plates of pasta and placed them in front of us before she sat back down in her seat next to her husband. I waited for everyone else to start eating before I even touched my fork. I didn't want them to think I was a messy eater or I didn't carry any manners, so I sat quietly, waiting until they took their first bites.
Most dinners I have been through - which aren't many - have all lasted longer than this one did. Contrary to the typical family dinner, there wasn't any loud laughter, or noises apart from the ones that were made by the metal forks hitting the plates. It's not very hard to come to the conclusion that the Jones's aren't your typical family. They are serious, professional in every sense, and grim when it comes to any conversation that doesn't involve some kind of money aspect. To say it was an awkward dinner was one of the many ways you could word it. And I felt that Will thought the same too. The stolen glances he shared with me were all packed with apologies that I smiled in return, trying to tell him that I wasn't bothered by this.
Mr Jones directed a lot of questions towards Will after we helped clear the table. From what I could tell, they mostly related to things akin to law and what it implied to be a good representative to big clients. He seemed deep in the conversation when Mrs Jones approached me with her perfectly styled blonde hair and clicking heels.
"Emma, dear, would you like any dessert?"
I shook my head softly. "No, thank you."
She nodded, "Let me know if you need anything. Again, it was lovely to meet you." and she headed off elsewhere.
I waited for Will to finish talking with his father before I left back for the apartment. I sat in what people apparently called the foyer, and looked outside the big windows that displayed the front of their home. The sun sat between the layers of grey clouds and it gave the outside a perfect yellow, afternoon glow.
"Thanks for coming," Will met me moments later. "I'm sorry it was so awkward during dinner and I'm sorry for the everything that happened after." He clicked the door open and drifted it back.
"It was nice to meet your parents, Will. Even if it was a little awkward, the food was still amazing." I smiled widely through the strands of hair that get blown into my face by the soft breeze.
"Thank you again for doing this." He stood beside me as I dug around for my keys. "It means a lot."
"I was happy to." I shut the car door and wind down the window to be able to say my goodbyes.
"I'll see you in class tomorrow?" He raised his brows.
"Of course."
I tucked myself underneath the cold seatbelt and with little effort, I lit up the driveway in front of me with the headlights.
"Drive safe, okay? I don't need you dying on me." He chuckled through the wisps of air and backed away from my car as I twisted on the engine.
I pushed the gear stick back into reverse and slowly made my way out this neighbourhood. The houses I drove by on the way up were even more attractive now, in the late afternoon. I made my way through the streets, seeing only a few people walking their dogs or jogging on the sidewalks, until I hit the side of Berkeley I lived in. There, all kinds of people were outside, enjoying the last months of summer before the cold would set in.
That was a small, beautiful thing about this city.