We Bend Before We Break
I duno… turnips?
This was probably the worst idea I had ever had. Why would I invite Rick’s parents over for dinner? The house was a mess, so I had to spend my day making sure it was spotless. Rick’s mother didn’t like me for some reason. So I knew no matter how clean the house was, she was still going to find something wrong. I also didn’t know what they liked to eat.
I was currently scurrying around the kitchen trying to find what I could cook for supper. But not knowing what they liked, and only having a few hours to prepare something was a little hindering.
“Rick,” I sighed, running a hand through my long dark brown hair to get it out of my face, “what do your parents like to eat?”
He had been watching me the entire time. An adorable smirk appeared on his face as he shrugged, “I duno… turnips?”
I heavily sighed as I opened the fridge again, he wasn’t being very helpful, “I don’t think we have any… and I don’t know how to cook them.”
“Stop worrying, they’ll like whatever you make,” he rubbed my back soothingly.
I shut the fridge door and leaned back into him. He wrapped his arm around me and rested his head on my shoulder. Ever since the accident Rick’s mother seemed to have some extreme dislike for me. Like she blamed me for the car wreck, and Rick’s loss of limb. He had recovered fine; he was still playing drums for his band as well. So it wasn’t like his life was ruined because of it. But she hated me all the same.
“This is my last chance to put this at an end,” I sighed once again, “I need your mother to like me… you have no idea how intimidating she is.”
He laughed outright at that, “no, you have no idea how intimidating she can be. I know all too well. She is my mother after all.”
“True,” I tapped my finger against my lips in thought, “do they like lasagna?”
“Probably.”
I groaned, “You’re not being very helpful.”
He shrugged, “I know.”
I play glared at him and swatted his shoulder, “can you get me a jar of spaghetti sauce and the lasagna noodles?”
He gave me a quick peck on the lips, “sure thing.”
I grabbed my biggest pots. I filled one up with water, and set the other one on the counter to get ready. I set the pot filled with water on a backburner, turned it to the highest setting, and salted the water.
Rick had already gotten the vegetables I wanted from the fridge for me, and was leaning against the counter smiling his award-winning smile. He had to be the best boyfriend I’d ever had.
Rick was always attentive and loving. He always made sure to call me every few days when he was on tour. And when he came home we were practically attached at the hip. To most that might be a little annoying, but I thought it was wonderful. I couldn’t get enough of Rick, and he seemingly felt the same.
Rick sat on the counter as I prepared everything. He’d hand me whatever I needed. And he kept me amused with his tour stories. He never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Which is something I loved about him. I was more of a quiet person; I usually kept to myself and didn’t talk much. Rick was talkative and more outgoing then I was, so he always kept the conversation going. We worked very well together in that sense.
We worked together to finish cooking the sauce and noodles. And as we put the lasagna together, Rick would hand me the noodles, and I would layer everything. Soon we were finished, and the lasagna was in the oven. Everything was going smoothly, until I realised I hadn’t made anything for desert.
“What am I going to do?” I cried over dramatically, I was now in panic mode.
Rick just laughed at me as I paced back and fourth in front of the oven, “calm down babe, I doubt they’re gonna care if they don’t have desert.”
“Well I care if they don’t, and that’s all that matters.”
He shook his head and jumped down from his seat on the counter. He wrapped me up in a hug to stop me from pacing, “you’re working yourself up over nothing. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“I guess you’re right,” I mumbled into his chest, “I just want things to be perfect, I really want your mum to like me.”
He rolled his eyes, “she already does like you, I don’t know why you think she doesn’t.”
I looked up at him, “are you kidding? She constantly sends off this ‘you’re not good enough for my son’ vibe… you never noticed that before?”
“No, I haven’t. You know why? Because it’s all in your head,” he kissed my forehead, “now calm down.”
“Fine,” I mumbled, defeated. I snuggled my face into his chest as we continued to hug, “you smell nice.”
Rick once again burst out laughing, “um… thanks?”
I grinned up at him, “You’re welcome.”
He returned my grin and shook his head, “I love you.”
I gave him a quick kiss, “I love you too.”
I was currently scurrying around the kitchen trying to find what I could cook for supper. But not knowing what they liked, and only having a few hours to prepare something was a little hindering.
“Rick,” I sighed, running a hand through my long dark brown hair to get it out of my face, “what do your parents like to eat?”
He had been watching me the entire time. An adorable smirk appeared on his face as he shrugged, “I duno… turnips?”
I heavily sighed as I opened the fridge again, he wasn’t being very helpful, “I don’t think we have any… and I don’t know how to cook them.”
“Stop worrying, they’ll like whatever you make,” he rubbed my back soothingly.
I shut the fridge door and leaned back into him. He wrapped his arm around me and rested his head on my shoulder. Ever since the accident Rick’s mother seemed to have some extreme dislike for me. Like she blamed me for the car wreck, and Rick’s loss of limb. He had recovered fine; he was still playing drums for his band as well. So it wasn’t like his life was ruined because of it. But she hated me all the same.
“This is my last chance to put this at an end,” I sighed once again, “I need your mother to like me… you have no idea how intimidating she is.”
He laughed outright at that, “no, you have no idea how intimidating she can be. I know all too well. She is my mother after all.”
“True,” I tapped my finger against my lips in thought, “do they like lasagna?”
“Probably.”
I groaned, “You’re not being very helpful.”
He shrugged, “I know.”
I play glared at him and swatted his shoulder, “can you get me a jar of spaghetti sauce and the lasagna noodles?”
He gave me a quick peck on the lips, “sure thing.”
I grabbed my biggest pots. I filled one up with water, and set the other one on the counter to get ready. I set the pot filled with water on a backburner, turned it to the highest setting, and salted the water.
Rick had already gotten the vegetables I wanted from the fridge for me, and was leaning against the counter smiling his award-winning smile. He had to be the best boyfriend I’d ever had.
Rick was always attentive and loving. He always made sure to call me every few days when he was on tour. And when he came home we were practically attached at the hip. To most that might be a little annoying, but I thought it was wonderful. I couldn’t get enough of Rick, and he seemingly felt the same.
Rick sat on the counter as I prepared everything. He’d hand me whatever I needed. And he kept me amused with his tour stories. He never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Which is something I loved about him. I was more of a quiet person; I usually kept to myself and didn’t talk much. Rick was talkative and more outgoing then I was, so he always kept the conversation going. We worked very well together in that sense.
We worked together to finish cooking the sauce and noodles. And as we put the lasagna together, Rick would hand me the noodles, and I would layer everything. Soon we were finished, and the lasagna was in the oven. Everything was going smoothly, until I realised I hadn’t made anything for desert.
“What am I going to do?” I cried over dramatically, I was now in panic mode.
Rick just laughed at me as I paced back and fourth in front of the oven, “calm down babe, I doubt they’re gonna care if they don’t have desert.”
“Well I care if they don’t, and that’s all that matters.”
He shook his head and jumped down from his seat on the counter. He wrapped me up in a hug to stop me from pacing, “you’re working yourself up over nothing. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“I guess you’re right,” I mumbled into his chest, “I just want things to be perfect, I really want your mum to like me.”
He rolled his eyes, “she already does like you, I don’t know why you think she doesn’t.”
I looked up at him, “are you kidding? She constantly sends off this ‘you’re not good enough for my son’ vibe… you never noticed that before?”
“No, I haven’t. You know why? Because it’s all in your head,” he kissed my forehead, “now calm down.”
“Fine,” I mumbled, defeated. I snuggled my face into his chest as we continued to hug, “you smell nice.”
Rick once again burst out laughing, “um… thanks?”
I grinned up at him, “You’re welcome.”
He returned my grin and shook his head, “I love you.”
I gave him a quick kiss, “I love you too.”