No Family of Mine: Part One

A story about a woman who is invited on her boyfriend's family trip.

How does he do that? Have so much style while being in slides and sweatpants. His cologne has notes of vanilla, bergamot, and musk. I’ve never been aware of a cologne’s notes, but on him, I can tell.

After three years, my attraction for him hasn’t faded a hair. His pearly white, ultra-straight teeth glisten when he wears those studded diamond earrings. His smooth skin glows in the white tee thats gripping his toned biceps.

How does he do that?

Steal my attention whenever he’s around me.

“Are your lips wet?” he repeats because I was swallowed up staring at his physique during the first ask.

“What?” I say thrown.

“Babe, are you drooling?”

I touch my mouth. Oh, my gosh. I am drooling. I was so enthralled that I literally couldn’t control my bodily fluids.

“I just have a really wet mouth,” I say stoically to hide my embarrassment.

“We’re boarding in 10 minutes. I’m going to grab a drink from the Hudson News. Do you need anything?”

“Could you grab me a pack of Sahale pistachios if they have them?”

“I got you,” he says with a wink.

Despite my inability to remove my eyes from this man, he has some flaws I can’t overlook. We’ve been having small fights for the past three days because he’s ready for us to move in together, but I disagree.

This is the longest relationship I’ve ever had. We have great banter, and he treats me well, but he isn’t very thoughtful.

I like to think he makes up for it by being chivalrous, but he’s majorly lacking in the ‘small things’ department.

His family is amazing. His mom calls me once a week to see how I’m doing, his dad grills me veggies every time we come over, his sister and I have grown a sweet bond, and his little brother asks me for help on his history homework. Honestly, the little brother might be using me, but I think it’s cute, so I let it slide. Our parents get along well, too. We’ve even discussed planning family trips with both of our immediate families. Logically, it seems moving in together and marriage are around the corner, but I can’t help but feel like something’s missing.

“Pistachio Sahale’s and Swedish fish—because I know how much you love those,” he says with a smile.

Unfortunately, he’s wrong.

I have never once eaten Swedish fish in the 3+ years I’ve known him. He must be confused by the Smart Sweets Sweet Fish that I frequent. Sure, Swedish fish were more than likely inspired by my go-to. But there’s one major difference. Smart Sweets only has 3 grams of sugar in the bag. As someone who has a slight addiction and sensitivity to added sugar, I have to tread lightly. Especially, since I’m menstruating.

“Aw, I really appreciate that, but I don’t eat Swedish fish, Chase,” I try to say as compassionately as possible, even though my feelings are a little hurt.

“I literally saw you eating them three days ago,” Chase says with a tiny ‘titude.

“Three days ago, you said “I didn’t know you eat Swedish fish” and I said, “I don’t these are Smart Sweets, like healthy Swedish fish,” and then you said, “You and your weird ass diets.” And then I said, “It’s not a diet, it’s a life—”.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. Well, they didn’t have those,” he interrupts.

Suddenly, I forgot how attractive he was.

“Well, when we move in together, we can get you all the Smart Sweets on the shelves because there won’t be two leases,” he says jokingly and seriously at the same time.

“Maybe we can move in together when you remember that I’ve never eaten Swedish fish in front of you,” I say as I kiss him on the cheek.

“If that’s all I have to do, we better start looking at places today!” He says.

Wrong again.

“All I have to do.”

The bar is in hell, and I allowed it to fall.

The lady at the gate calls our group to board. Chase puts his backpack on his back and grabs my carry-on suitcase with his other hand. Maybe the bar isn’t in hell—just close by.

---

After a six-hour flight, we make it to the Reno-Tahoe International Airport. Luckily, I slept the entire time. Unluckily, the menstrual aches did not dissipate.

We swiftly deboard the plane and find [a late] lunch.

“McDonald’s has a good impossible burger, I hear,” Chase says.

My relationship with McDonald’s is obsolete. I haven’t eaten there since my pre-teen years when I found a bone in my McNuggets. Not only has Chase never seen me even drink the water from McDonald’s—I don’t think I’ve said that word since age 12.

Annoyed, I brush past him without responding to the Verdi Market, filled with freshly baked goods and farm-to-table salads. I don’t even look back to see if he’s near before ordering a salad, smoothie, and croissant. I find the nearest table and have a seat.

The cramping is what I would assume a three-centimeter dilation is like during childbirth.

“Priscilla! Priscilla!” I hear someone shouting from behind me.

I turn around to find Chase’s mom running to hug me with a Whole Foods grocery bag.

“Mrs. Sheila, how are you? I’ve missed you!” I say, rising to my feet to hug her. If someone were to Google the words “loving mother” there would be a photo of Mrs. Sheila. She is attentive to everyone’s needs, always smiling and laughing, and always in a flowy printed sundress.

“I’ve missed you too, honey. How was the flight? I heard you aren’t feeling well.” She says.

“The flight was fine. I’m just a little achy and hungry. I slept the entire time except when they were handing out the mini pretzels.”

“Oh, I’m so glad. I brought you these herbs for the pain. I think it’s called cramp bark. Let me run and get you some hot water to make the tea.”

Ugh, she’s so thoughtful. I told her about my passion for holistic health two years ago, and she’s since gone out of her way to send me products and articles she thinks would be good for me. She’s even fallen into the world of holistic health for herself, which makes me feel so much closer to her.

A few minutes later, I grab my food, Mrs. Sheila returns with my tea and tells me Chase, his dad, brother, sister, and sister’s girlfriend got the rental car, so we walk over to meet them.

“You just get prettier every time I see you, Scilla,” Mr. Nelson says as he hugs me.

“Someone’s gotta do it,” I respond.

“I heard you aren’t feeling well. I brought my portable heating pad for you!” Jessie, Chase’s sister says with a smile.

“You’re a blessing to the lives of many,” I say trying to hold back tears.

“So good to see you again!” Chelsea, Jessie’s girlfriend says hugging me.

I’m grateful Jessie is on this trip. We’re both meeting the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins for the first time, and I can tell she’s anxious.

“Professor Priscilla, I heard you’re not well. Is that why you didn’t text me back?” Destin jokes.

He asked me for the answers to six of his homework questions, and I stopped responding after he asked the fourth.

“No, it’s because you don’t read. Readers are leaders!” I respond in the same tone.

“Well, don’t you worry we have an hour and a half to talk in person.” He says with a grin.

I have got to stop giving him the answers, he’s starting to show signs of being like his brother.

Chase, Mr. Nelson, and Destin load the Chevy Tahoe and we head to Lake Tahoe.

As I cuddle with Chase in the back of the truck I remember all of the things I like about him. He makes me laugh, he always smells good, and being in his arms feels like home, so why can’t I overlook the small things? He gets the big things right like anniversaries, birthdays, and he even pays my rent, which I am fully capable of doing on my own.

So, what is the issue?

What is my issue?

Is he giving me too much freedom?

Am I too independent?

This trip is now or never. If I don’t figure out why I don’t want to live with this man by the end of our Lake Tahoe trip, then I must be the issue. If I don’t have a solid reason after this five-day trip, I’ll need to bite the bullet and move in with Chase.

After another hour of cuddles and cat naps, we arrive at the Marriot Vacation Club for the Johnson’s biennial family trip.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my family, Scill,” Chase says with a warm smile.

“Neither can I,” I say just before planting a wet one on him.

A bellman gets our luggage out of the car and we all stroll into the lobby.

“LaLa!” I hear someone yell with laughter.

Mrs. Sheila’s favorite sister-in-law, Janice runs to hug her. The rest of the family isn’t too far behind her. Chase introduces me to his grandparents, four aunts, four uncles, and seven cousins.

This isn’t exactly a family reunion, but it’s feeling like one.

I look at Chelsea, who’s looking mildly overstimulated, and offer a warm smirk, she smiles back.

“Okay! We are all checked in and our stuff is being taken upstairs, so let’s meet back down here in two hours for dinner.” Mr. Nelson says.

“Chase, you have to stay with us for two nights. It’s tradition!” I hear Chase’s cousin Oscar whine—a man in his late 20’s.

“Priscilla is here with me, though, I can’t leave her alone for two nights,” Chase responds.

“Well, Priscilla wouldn’t break up a family tradition. She’s new to the block, I own these streets.” Oscar says jokingly, but territorially as his eyes beam into my soul.

“I can stay for one day, then I’m staying with Priscilla,” Chase responds also staring at me.

Am I annoyed that four men in their mid to late twenties are crying over a sleepover? Yes, but I’ll overlook it since they only see each other every other year.

“I’m sorry, were those questions?” I say after a long pause.

“You’re the best, babe” Chase says as he kisses me on the forehead.

The cousins are practically clicking their heels as they run to the rooftop bar.

I search through my purse for my phone before heading up to the room until I hear:

“Ma’am.”

I look up to find the receptionist looking at me.

“Yes?” I respond.

“I’m so sorry, but we cannot accommodate the room for Chase Johnson,” she says.

“Oh, no, that’s my room. What happened?”

“It appears we double booked the room and the family staying there checked in 20 minutes before you all.”

Shit. All I want to do is lay down.

“So, can I book a different room?” I ask.

“Unfortunately, we are at capacity for the next two days,” she says sorrowfully.

SHIT.

I continue digging around my purse until I find my phone to call Chase.

He doesn’t answer.

I call Mrs. Sheila, then Mr. Nelson, and nothing.

I don’t know anyone’s room numbers, I don’t have a key to use the elevator, and the front desk is so busy I can’t even ask for help.

Five minutes pass, then 15, then 30, and finally, I lose it.

I go to the bathroom to let out a silent cry.

I am alone. I am in a hotel full of people, seven of whom I actually know, and I am alone. I don’t know if it’s the hormones, the fact that I’m about to bleed through my clothes or that…I am alone.

There’s only one thing left for me to do.

Call my sister.

She’s a Hilton member with an AMEX card. If there’s a deal to be retrieved she will retrieve it.

Plus, I need to vent, but I have a feeling this won’t end well.

She’s been on the fence about Chase since we started dating three years ago.

I fear this may be the straw that broke the camel’s back.