Chapter 958: Lovely Complex
Now here's a fun quandary for the enlightened ones. If a single picture is worth a thousand words, how many words could you quantify into a single smile?
From where I was sitting, Amanda's silent, stiff, yet ever so polite expression could fit a couple of dictionaries and probably still have room for multiple other languages too. Indeed, her unblinking eyes alone spoke an entire soliloquy of unimaginable horrors that the following evening entailed.
Verbally, she went, "Oh."
Really no better way she could have put it, I don't think.
"Samantha's mentioned that you're quite the cook," Mom said. "I hope you won't mind if I allow myself to be the judge of that."
"Ah…" Amanda's mouth hung loose, mute. The kind where you just have so much to say that you don't know what to say. "I… I don't know if… I'm not sure that I—"
"Of course, I'll provide the ingredients myself," Mom added. "I'd much prefer if we were dining out of your kindness, not your expense. So just let me know what you'll be making, and I'll get everything ready."
"That's… that's nice, but…" After another failed attempt at speaking, Amanda whirled around at me, silently passing the words that wouldn't leave her lips over to my own.
"Or we could always just head over to a restaurant instead," I suggested. "We've been on this shoot for hours, Mom. Everyone's exhausted. Are you seriously gonna ask her to prepare an entire family meal on top of that?"
"That's fine too. I wouldn't want to push you," Mom conceded, funneling sweet kindness in Amanda's direction with her eyes. "It's just… cooking is a favorite pastime of mine. It'd be nice to share that with you, something nice to bond over, but if you're really not up to it, then I suppose—"
It was bait. Brazen, egregious bait. I could see it, Amanda obviously could too. Alas, there was no point knowing how big a pitfall was if you were just gonna jump in anyway.
And Amanda went diving headfirst.
"I'll cook," Amanda proclaimed, her stiff smile still harboring the scream of a thousand agonies. "We'll cook."
After a while of exchanging information, Mom's phone glowed dazzlingly with a new name and number in her list of contacts, while on the other end of the table, Amanda was looking as if she just signed over her soul to the devil.
"Now that that's out of the way," Mom began to rise from her seat, her slender figure stark against the bare blue sky. "I should really be going now. Your father doesn't like it when I'm by myself for too long."
"Ah, I almost forgot," Amanda stood up after her, sinking her head in a little modest bow. "Thanks for… you know… helping out. You were amazing. We would have been seriously screwed over here if you weren't around, so…"
Mom just laughed. A soft, appreciative chuckle that once again reverted back to her usual smile.
"That's the first time someone has thanked me for being me," she remarked. "I'll take it. The pleasure's all mine," she then took a step back, her hand waving once before finally departing. "I'll see you two in the evening."
On the ride back home, weaving through the bustle of the afternoon rush, things were mostly silent; too drained to even muster a word. It took three stop lights and some guy abruptly cutting into our line before Amanda made a sound.
"Idiot," she snapped under her breath, braking quickly and for a moment, having the both of us mimicking the audience of a heavy metal rave. "Some people just don't think at all, I swear."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," I muttered after her, swirling my head around making sure nothing came loose. "Some people… all leaping, no looking."
"Exactly, How they even made it this far in life at all is beyond me," Amanda exclaimed, her grip tightening on the wheel. "They just do and act, not thinking at all until, whoops! Uh, oh—consequences! Now, what's your plan? What are you gonna do now, idiot? What are you gonna do?! How are you going to get through this?"
Hmm, something tells me we're no longer talking about the same idiot. Just a hunch.
"You leaped without looking and now little ol' you are going to be cooking dinner for Leonardo and Terestra," she said, sounding absolutely deranged. "Couldn't let it go. You just had to be first. Had to be number one. Best girl without a doubt, right? Well, the joke's on you. Now you're gonna have to actually put that to the test."
"Amanda…"
"Yes, I know I'm being dramatic," she interjected my interjection, stopping on a red before promptly slumping herself against the wheel. "Worst case scenario, I accidentally burn dinner, whatever—not like it's the end of the world, right?"
"Exactly," I said, lightly tousling the top of her head. "Or, in a more likely scenario, you make a good meal, we have a nice time, and we all live happily ever after."
"It'd be so much easier to believe that if your parents weren't your parents," she said, utterly crestfallen. "Then it'll just be an ordinary dinner with my boyfriend's ordinary parents. But it isn't, and they're not. Especially after what I witnessed there back on set! I'm entertaining beings beyond my mortal comprehension—that's all I'm going to be thinking the entire time, and it's going to drive me mad."
"No one's thinking that except you," I said to her. "All they wanna do is get to know you, that's it. Ash managed fine, Adalia breezed through it, Irene—"
Almost forgot. Bad example, that one. Irene couldn't even be bothered to step up to the plate. Wanted nothing more than to stay far away from any and all encounters with my parents.
"Getting to know me—what does that mean? What would they be looking for exactly?" Amanda questioned, stirring the life once more at the flicker of bright green. "And what do they want to see?"
"You, Amanda," I said drearily. "Just be you."
She just narrowed her lips, her expression dubious, uncertain. "I'll try."
It's honestly astounding when I think about it. Endlessly talented, an internet sensation, and downright lovely in all sense of the word. Beautiful, smart, funny, I could seriously go on and on and it'll be the end of the world before I even come close to running dry of all her qualities.
There wasn't a single reason in the world for someone like her to be so insecure of herself and yet here we were anyway. Over and over again. Doubting herself. Underestimating herself. Downplay, even…
In a way, I'm actually looking forward to the evening. Maybe after my parents were done appraising her, she'd finally see herself the same way I'd seen her all this time.
Gaining the approval of literal Gods has got to be a confidence booster, right?
Little by little, the view of home grew ever broader and closer across the dashboard, and when Amanda pulled up beside the driveway, I took a singular moment to just admire the empty, homely ambiance of the front door.
The thought of just slipping into my blanket was almost too tempting to resist, there was nothing I would like more right then. Alas, the day was far from being over.
"So, uh, I guess I'll pick you here again sometime after six?" Amanda proposed, jutting her head out her open window as I disembarked and went around. "Or actually—just text when you're ready. I'll come."
"You kidding?" I raised my brows at her. "I'll book a ride, it's fine. You're exhausted, and you're going to be busy with dinner anyway."
She rolled her eyes at me. "It's not like I'm gonna leave the stove on and drive at the same time, you know."
"Take that time to rest," I told her. "You're not my chauffeur."
"No, but I am your girlfriend," she continued insisting. "We're in this together. In sickness and in health, through good times and definitely in bad—"
"That's for marriage."
"And I'm wearing a ring," she said, her hand spilling over the window frame, where a speck of silver could be seen glistening on her finger. "We're close enough."
"Are we?"
"Aren't we?" Amanda coyly asked back. "Go ahead, ask me the question—see what I'll say."
Once again, the way she was. How could she even begin to doubt her own worth? Do I have to hold up a mirror or something?
"Fine, alright," I relented, sighing. "I'll call you when it's time."
She gave a smug smile. "That's better. Maybe next time you'll think twice before trying to stop me from doing something for you."
"My mistake."
Amanda leaned out further, and naturally at this point, I walked over and kissed her goodbye. I could feel her smirk as our lips touched, before the tenderness and bliss sent it all in a giddy buzz of exhilaration.
"For better or for worse. Together," she whispered softly, breaking apart. "Let's hope tonight it'll be the former."
"Of course it'll be," I said, smiling back at her. "You're you."