Love Your Life(37)

    He greets me with a kiss and takes my enormous case.

“Hi!” I say, then add anxiously, “How’s your arm?”

“Fine,” says Matt cheerfully. “Wow,” he adds, hefting the case. “This is massive. What have you got in here?”

“Harold’s stuff,” I explain. “I brought his bed and his blanket…a few toys….We’re both so excited to see your place!” I add excitedly. “And meet your flatmates!”

We start walking and I look around with bright eyes, because this is Matt’s neighborhood. This is part of him. And it’s a glorious area of London: one pretty street after another. And, look, a garden square! My fingers are crossed that he lives in a square just like this and has a key to the garden. I can see us, lying on the grass in the sunshine, lazily scratching Harold’s head and drinking wine and just enjoying life. Forever.

“So, tell me about the people in your life,” I say eagerly. “Start with your parents.”

I’m always interested to hear about the parents of guys I date. It’s not that I’m looking for new parents, it’s just…Well. I like hearing about happy families.

I told Matt about my parents last night while we were sitting on plastic chairs in A&E. I told him about my dad, who’s still alive but divorced my mum and moved to Hong Kong when I was small. And how we do see each other sometimes…but it’s not like other people’s dads. It’s not easy and familiar. It’s more like seeing an uncle or a family friend or something.

    Then I told him about my mum dying when I was sixteen. I tried to paint a picture of her for him. Her blue eyes and her artist’s smock (she was an art teacher) and her cigarette habit. Her endearing way of getting the joke just slightly too late and exclaiming, “I see, oh, I see, oh, that’s funny!”

Then I described Martin, who was my stepdad for twelve years. His friendly face; his love of jive clubs; his famous six-bean curry. I explained how he was devastated when Mum died but he’s since found a lovely woman called Fran and two more stepchildren and how I’m thrilled for him, of course I am, but it’s weird for me. They ask me for Christmas every year and I tried going once, but it didn’t really work. So the next year I went to Maud’s, which was noisy and chaotic and distracting in the best possible way.

Then I really opened up. I told Matt how I sometimes realize how very much on my own I am in the world, with just a distant dad and no siblings. And how it feels scary. But then I remember I have my friends and I have Harold and I have my rescue projects and all my work….

I suppose I talked quite a lot. But there wasn’t a lot else to do in the A&E waiting room. And I was going to ask Matt about his family, but before I could, we were called by the nurse.

So now it’s time for me to hear about his background. I want to learn all about his parents. Their lovable quirks…their heartwarming traditions…the important lessons they’ve given him as he’s grown up…Basically I want to learn why I’m going to love them.

Nell once said to me, “Ava, you don’t have to be ready to love anything and everything you come across,” but she was exaggerating. I don’t. And anyway, this isn’t “anything,” this is Matt! I love him! And I’m ready to love his family too.

    “Tell me everything about your parents,” I reiterate, squeezing his hand. “Everything. Don’t leave anything out.”

“OK.” Matt nods. “Well, there’s my dad.”

We walk along a bit in silence while I wait for Matt to continue. Till I realize that’s it.

“What’s your dad like?” I prompt, and Matt furrows his brow as though I’ve hurled some impossible problem at him.

“He’s…tall,” he says at last.

“Tall,” I say encouragingly. “Wow!”

“Not extreme,” Matt clarifies. “He’s about six foot two. Maybe six foot three. I can find out if you like.” He gets out his phone. “I’ll text him.”

He summons up his contacts page and I hurriedly say, “No! No, it doesn’t matter what his exact height is. So, he’s pretty tall. Amazing!”

I’m hoping Matt might carry on with more details, but he just nods as he puts his phone away again and we walk on, while I feel tiny prickles of frustration.

“Anything else?” I say at last.

“He’s…” Matt thinks for a bit. “You know.”

I quell an urge to retort “No, I don’t know, that’s the point.” But that would ruin the mood, so instead I say brightly, “What about your mother? What’s she like?”

“Oh.” Matt thinks for a while again. “She’s…You know. It’s hard to say.”

“Just anything!” I say, trying not to sound desperate. “Anything about her. Any detail. Big or small. Paint a picture.”

    Matt is silent for a while, then says, “I guess she’s pretty tall as well.”

She’s tall too? That’s all he has to say? I’m starting to picture a family of giants here. I’m about to ask if he has any siblings when Matt says, “Here we are!” and my head jerks up in surprise. Followed by stupefied horror.