Jenny arranged for me to meet her family.
There was plenty to signify we engaged as a couple without stating it. The cabin breakfast evoked a composed domestic montage. Though, no conjugal impulses stirred in us. If you believe in it, Eden is Eden. It doesn't get much better than a long weekend away from the rest of the world. Bodies intimate in a lakeside setting.
I recall mid-December '79, the late afternoon. After a walk along a deserted beach, Jenny and I wandered into a playground. Our university life was completed. We awaited degree results: Jenny's Bachelor of Music Theatre and my Honours Degree in Design in Architecture.
In the playground, we chose the swings. We swung side by side. Later, we plonked together at one end of a seesaw.
"It's rundown," she said.
I scanned the play equipment; it had seen better days.
"It's old," I mused, reflecting how young she and I were.
"It needs a tidy," I added.
The playground required general mowing and painting.
"Like your hair. It needs a cut," Jenny, matter-of-fact.
I was having dinner with her family in a few days. My hair stayed uncut before I met them.
Party time arrived in late December. Jenny and I shared our university results. The evening in front of us shaped exciting fun. The house party she chose revelled loud and vibrant. We danced and drank. Jenny and I swayed close, our hands buttocks low, unlike our first dance together a few months back.
It was late when a taxi dropped us off at my share house. I should have cued to Jenny's need for sleep. The lights were off; she lay under the doona. She ceded to missionary sex with her man. Again, in the early morning light, she consented to the same.
I recollect these two paired encounters as enjoyable, not intense—a part of our easy-going intimacy. Yet, Jenny needed the effervescent. She remained an explorer of vibrancy while I roosted at home—with her.
Her steady pivot point to return to as she bungeed into life. And my raven-haired lass wasn't afraid to free-fall through whatever unfurled in front of her.
I knew this during the house party. I took a rest from dancing; Jenny bopped. She danced with a casual acquaintance- to dance. Her thoughts were later expressed openly - she admitted his masculinity was heady on our way home. Jenny held my hand, telling me this in a taxi. She sensed maleness around her whilst happy to be with me.
Jenny and I consummated missionary sex twice, probably in the same morning! At around one o'clock, then sleep, and say before eight o'clock. Why this detail? Well, it marks the point of discontinuation. It was the last occasion Jenny and I; slept together, humped and pumped, or made love. No ad infinitum. A terminal point.
However, events combining us kept unfolding, like meeting her family and Jenny visiting mine. I met Jenny's family for her twenty-third birthday before Christmas 1979. The venue selected by Jenny's sister surprised me, Ruby's family restaurant. Then, I acknowledged its deserved reputation for quality Italian cuisine.
I arrived before Jenny and her family's party.
Ruby's mum greeted me as I entered Il Piacere. Arianna collared me and relayed updates on Ruby in Paris. I fidgeted, my hands in my pockets, aware the brunette studied there - beyond being polite to her mum, I didn't care.
Until Arianna said, " Take Ruby's Paris address."
She wrote it on the back of a restaurant business card.
I held it in my hand, flipping it.
Arianna stalled; she waited until I put it in my wallet.
I did not check a meaningless address.
Yes, I wanted to travel. Yes, I wished to wander Paris.
See Ruby in Paris!
Arianna pinched my cheek like I was a teenager and eagerly stated, "When next I write to Ruby dear, I will tell her she must be ready for you one day."
I shuffled embarrassedly.
The sweet Italian momma did not notice as she engaged with another entering party of patrons.
Jenny and her family arrived, and we sat and ordered. The table was restaurant round, designed for a group. I pulled out a chair for Jenny; she graced it, and I filled the space beside her. The other seats were occupied by her parents and her two elder sisters. I engaged in a pivotal occasion where a boy-girl pairing stepped up.
Relationship territory, even if Jenny and I avoided using the word—also, scrutiny time when Jenny's family assessed me.
I received a range of fair and polite questions.
What did I study at Uni? My family? How did I meet Jenny?
All small talk and easy enough to answer without awkward pauses.
I held some conversation points. I did a lot of listening, which is a good idea. It's taken as interest. My listening included a distraction. Jenny and I let our fingers and legs brush and touch under the table.
I could see her sisters Hannah and Rachel taking stock of me. I suppose they tried to fathom Jenny's interest in me.
To assess the question: Are you long-term?
I don't know what Jenny shared about me before this night with her sisters. Or how much they knew of her prior one-off boy encounters. They were her sisters; sisters share!
I gathered information snippets forming a picture of Jenny's sisters and their current lives. Hannah, the eldest, was currently in a long-term de facto relationship. Dark-haired like Jenny, with defined cheekbones, yet a soft jaw. I garnered between her words; she saw Jenny making weightier choices.
I glimpsed from a conversation that Rachel mirrored Jenny's independence. The tallest of the sisters, her teeth sparkled and dominated a lean face. Her social manner percolated vivaciously. I gleaned between her words that she believed life was fun; boys come and go. We shared an interest in travel.
Jenny's mother said little during the evening.
A short lady, her skin creamy and her hair shiny black.
Her smile offered reassurance, like she wanted everyone to be happy. Her calmness stayed with me.
Jenny's dad!
He was tall, well-groomed, with a sureness in his firm jaw. He presented a challenge to read. I gathered he loved his youngest daughter uniquely, as fathers do. His manner hinted aloof. His eyes, I surmised, held every father's belief: you are a boy; no boy is good enough for my girl, not yet!
He broached it in a question. "Where are you likely to be working next year?"
I responded honestly, "I would apply in Melbourne and interstate."
He smugly reclined and crossed his arms as we both understood upcoming work opportunities could split Jenny and me across a continent.
I realised Jenny and I never discussed work prospects separating us. Yet our fingers joined under the table.
Now, it's strange what sticks most clearly in memory. It is not her family's faces or trying to read them. It is Jenny and me, at one point, oblivious to others' dinner table small talk. With passionate intent, we tried to figure out why a vegetable was so flavoursome.
A stand-alone broccoli dish, piquant and arousing our taste buds. We became flavour detectives who couldn't place the spice reigning over the broccoli as we enjoyed the garlic and crunchy pine nut garnish. We passed, agreeing that its magic provided the deliciousness and the moreishness to a yummy dish.
The dinner finished with the restaurant's signature cassata. As it was Jenny's birthday, she returned to her parents' place. Her family went outside the double glass doors to their taxis. It gave me time alone with my amber-eyed girl, where I shared a soft peck on her cheek.
I chose this moment to give her a birthday gift. My raven-haired cutie received her happy birthday wishes from me by the phone earlier in the day. I presented her with a small dark jewellery box.
"Open it later," I started.
She couldn't wait and popped the box. It contained a pair of pink cowry shell earrings. I knew my lass didn't wear earrings often, but when I saw them, I thought, Jenny.
"Oh, they are gorgeous," She touched them in their small display box, "I will wear them one day; I will."
It wasn't the moment, yet I wished her impulsive and choosing to wear the earrings immediately.
Hannah bounded to the restaurant's doors and called Jenny. She stated her parent's taxi was impatient to go.
I watched my lass close the jewellery box. Jenny stretched and gave me a quick cheek peck. And holding the box clenched in her hand, she made haste to the cab.
At the taxi door, she turned, and Jenny gave me a wave.
We had arranged to meet tomorrow.
Happy, I wandered to the restaurant reception.
I questioned Ruby's mum about the broccoli while waiting for a taxi.
"The spice," I probed.
She initially responded, "A family secret."
I rubbed my jaw, and Arianna moved closer to me.
She whispered, "Luke, the spice was nutmeg."
She quickly stepped back and inquired politely, "Design work?"
I realised she missed seeing me touch Jenny as she left the restaurant.
Arianna had thought of my evening as a client family dinner. I undertook freelance work in my Honours year.
I hoped she did not read my forced smile.
She didn't.
Her deeper reason emerged in providing Ruby's contact details. Arianna cared for her daughter's life direction.
"Get to Ruby, Luke," she near pleaded, pressing my arm as my taxi arrived, "Get to Ruby, one day."
It welled in her eyes.
I sensed she didn't mean Paris, but a more profound communication with her daughter!
I left Arianna and thoughts of Ruby in a casual wave. I relaxed in the taxi going home; Jenny was before me. I had invited her to the spring tomorrow.