When Fiona brought up the topic of the two of them going to New York to meet the rest of her family over spring break in March, Imogen had her reservations. The Coynes were an aristocratic people, accustomed to being around others who had the same sense of style and taste, not to mention wealth - or what wealth they used to have - and Imogen certainly didn't fit into that mold. Fiona couldn't have cared less, that much was obvious, and from the one or two times Imogen had met Laura Coyne she hadn't seemed to mind too much either. It was Fiona's father - whom Fiona hardly ever mentioned, and when she did it was in an off-handed way - and her twin brother, Declan, that she was worried about impressing the most.
Imogen spent the night before they left for New York staring at the ceiling and tracing the crack with her eyes, Fiona sleeping peacefully next to her. Try as she might, she couldn't recall a time when her nerves had been so high - not even when things with her father had been at their worst, or when she had been dealing with getting the set done for the play. Fiona meant a lot to her, and Fiona's family meant a lot to Fiona, so therefore making a good impression meant something to Imogen by proxy.
Casting a glance at Fiona, Imogen carefully flipped to her side and rested her head on her hand, reaching out to touch Fiona's stomach lightly enough so that she wouldn't wake her. Sometimes she was still stunned that they had found their way to each other, that Fiona picked her out of everyone that surrounded them and that she could have had instead. Imogen, with all of her quirks and drawbacks, was finally someone's first choice, and someone as wonderfully flawed as Fiona Coyne, at that. (Traditionally perfect people were vastly overrated, and, quite frankly, boring.)
With a small start, Fiona opened her eyes and met Imogen's, blinking blearily. Imogen gave her a smile, which Fiona returned automatically. "Why are you awake?" she asked, her voice scratchy with sleep. Imogen just shook her head and scooted closer, stroking the older girl's hair until Fiona fell asleep again, burrowed in the covers and with an arm slung over Imogen's waist.
It took Imogen another hour to fall asleep as various scenarios of meeting the Coyne family ran through her head, each ending differently, some good and some bad.
—
Fiona pulled her suitcase out of the underside of the bus, handing it off to Imogen, who was nervously scanning the people around her as if she expected Fiona's family to leap out at her and attack. Her girlfriend seemed to notice her discomfort and after lifting Imogen's duffel bag from the rest of the luggage - with the help of a man trying to extract his own bag - she cocked an eyebrow.
"Nervous?"
"Nervous is an understatement," Imogen muttered under her breath, and Fiona laughed, put an arm around her shoulders, and kissed her temple.
"I promise, they're not going to strap you in a chair and start interrogating you, Immy. They just want to get to know you a little better. They're not that intimidating once you get to know them." A roll of her eyes let Fiona know that Imogen wasn't taking her words beyond face value, and so she dropped the subject, letting her girlfriend stay inside her head for a little longer. She knew her well enough to realize that any attempts to talk her down from the mental ledge she was on was futile for the time being, and that the only thing that would make Imogen feel comfortable again would be for her to actually experience the Coynes firsthand.
A few moments later, Fiona had managed to expertly hail a signature New York City taxi cab (leaving Imogen quite impressed as the tourists milled around her in confusion, wondering why they couldn't do the same thing) and they were on their way to her family apartment.
"Now, my mother's name is Laura, and she will insist that you call her that, but she prefers Mrs. C, or something like that. It makes her feel like she's still young, but it's not disrespectful. My dad is strictly Mr. Coyne or sir," Fiona coached, scrolling through her contacts on her phone so that she could text her parents and give them an estimated time of arrival. Imogen was staring out the window at the colorful scenery and the interesting people, her stomach doing flip flops with each passing block.
"Fiona, what if your parents really don't like me?" Fiona glanced up from her phone, mid-text, eyebrows drawn together. The question had been weighing on Imogen's mind for days now, weeks, even, and while Fiona had known that she was probably wondering about it they hadn't discussed it yet. Having the words hang heavily over their heads made the meeting seem so much more ominous.
She slowly finished her text and then stowed her phone away in her bag before turning to face Imogen completely, her face serious. "Imogen. They're my family, and they're going to like you because I like you. They might not like certain things that you do - I'm being honest here - but they'll like you as a person, I promise. I mean, you are kind of amazing." Here, Imogen cracked a small smile, shaking her head.
"My mother already thinks you're lovely, you know that, and my father will approve of you much more than any boy I've ever dated. Declan? Declan might not be thrilled that you're - " she broke off, trying to find a tactful way to say it, and then decided to just continue, " - different from the girls he dates, which is ridiculous since I'm not him and therefore we don't have the same standards, but ultimately he'll see that I'm happy and be okay with it, too. You have nothing to worry about, Im. I promise."
Imogen tore her eyes away from a pair of men arguing viciously on the sidewalk, wishing that their taxi wasn't stopped at a red light right next to them, and scanned Fiona's face. After a moment she sighed. "Okay, Fions. I'm trusting you on this one. But if they hate me and I cry it's all on you," she warned, and Fiona merely grinned in response.
—
Even though the Coyne family was currently missing the majority of their wealth, the penthouse that they lived in was still the most impressive thing that Imogen had ever seen in her life. From the minute she had stepped out of the taxi and laid eyes on the apartment building to the elevator ride up to when the doors slid open to reveal polished marble floors and expensive looking furniture and art lining the wall as far as the eye could see, her jaw had been permanently unhinged. Fiona just watched her in amusement, taking Imogen's hand to nudge her along when it became apparent that her feet were rooted to the spot.
Neither Fiona's father nor Declan were there at the moment, and her mother seemed to be missing in action, so the girls made themselves comfortable. They would be staying in separate rooms - Fiona said that her parents were on the liberal side but certainly not that liberal - and Imogen actually felt lost after being led to hers. "I'm down the hall, to the right, and then another right, third door on your left," Fiona instructed, standing in the doorway as Imogen took in the bedroom, thinking that three of her bedroom at home could fit into this and still have some left over.
"You're where? Is that even still in the penthouse?" she asked, spinning to face Fiona, a frown present. Fiona laughed and then nodded.
"It's not as large as you think it is, Im. Just a lot of rooms that make it confusing. You'll get the hang of it in no time, I promise." Wrapping an arm around her girlfriend's waist, Imogen leaned up for a kiss that Fiona happily gave, and they spent a moment or two wrapped up in one another until a call from a few rooms over broke them apart.
Fiona's eyes lit up. She motioned for Imogen to join her and Imogen reluctantly followed her down the hallways, glancing up at the portraits every once in a while and trying to gauge the price tags on each one. They could probably pay a good portion of her university tuition next year, that was for sure. Fiona hadn't been lying when she said they had had money before the investigation had gone down, she mused, hardly noticing when they came to a stop.
Imogen managed to tear her gaze away from a decorative vase that was larger than she herself was long enough to catch a glimpse of Laura Coyne before she embraced her daughter happily, beaming widely. Fiona wore a matching expression, and Imogen felt a brief stab of jealousy at the fact that she and her mother had never been and would never be this close. It passed quickly, however, and she smiled as they parted and Fiona's mother looked to her.
"Imogen," she greeted warmly, crossing the distance between them to envelop her in a hug that Imogen tentatively returned, unsure of whether or not this was standard practice in the Coyne household. Fiona was touchy-feely enough with people she liked, sure, but that didn't mean it extended to the rest of her family. "It's so nice to see you again! I hope the trip down wasn't too much for you?"
She shook her head and then pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. "Not at all, Mrs. C. It was really nice, actually. Fions here kept me occupied for a while until she finally fell asleep!" She nudged Fiona, who rolled her eyes and cocked a hip so that she could plant a hand on it.
Laura laughed pleasantly. "Please, call me Laura. Now, your father and Declan should be here soon, so do whatever you'd like until they arrive and we can sit down for dinner. How does lasagna sound?" From the expression on Fiona's face lasagna was not something that the Coyne family was used to, but she nodded anyway and Imogen followed suit. Laura kissed the top of Fiona's head before glancing down at her phone and moving into the next room.
Just then there was the unmistakable sound of the elevator doors clanging open and Fiona perked up. "Ooh, I wonder who that is!" It didn't take more than a minute for a tall man in a business suit to enter the room, a briefcase held in one hand and the other busily undoing his tie. When his gaze traveled the room and landed on Fiona, his entire demeanor changed and he grinned, putting the briefcase down on the nearest chair.
"Fi! You're here already! I thought you weren't due until tomorrow?"
Fiona rolled her eyes, albeit happily, and then shook her head. "No, Daddy, today. You're too stuck in work, you know that?"
"Well, I have to be, dealing with your mother's case and all. Come here, give your father a hug." He held his arms open and Fiona eagerly embraced him, leaving Imogen to awkwardly study the no doubt imported Persian rug below them. Fiona's parents didn't seem like the intense, distant people that she was expecting, but she was still nervous enough to think that she might throw up if they spoke to her.
Which her father promptly did, of course.
"And this must be Imogen," he said, regarding her over the top of his glasses once he had let go of Fiona. Fiona nodded, moving to Imogen's side and putting her hands on her shoulders so that she could steer her forward a little. Imogen swallowed, lifted her chin, and then found the words stuck in her throat. Fiona's father waited a moment or two before clearing his throat and glancing to Fiona. "She seems lovely, Fiona. A little quiet, but lovely. I must finish some papers before dinner, but I'll see you two then. Don't get into too much trouble!" With that, he picked up his briefcase and disappeared into one of the various connecting hallways.
Fiona watched him go and then rounded on Imogen, hands on her hips and an eyebrow cocked. "What was that, Im?"
Imogen shook her head, and lifted her glasses slightly so she could pinch the bridge of her nose. "I don't know! Your family is really scary, okay, Fions?" Fiona bit her lip, studying her for a moment, and decided not to press the issue. It was certainly scary enough to meet your significant other's family for the first time, and pressuring Imogen over it wasn't going to help. Hell, when she had met Imogen's parents for the first time it definitely hadn't been a walk in the park. It was still weird whenever she was around Natalie, and she almost never saw Louis anymore.
"It'll be fine. Hopefully Declan will be home soon, and you two will hit it off, I promise. Come on, want to see if we can find a good movie and fit it in before dinner?"
—
Imogen kept her eyes firmly trained on her plate, trying to figure out exactly what she was supposed to do. Growing up with her dad had not prepared her for dinner with people who were accustomed to being prim and proper and fancy, and even if they didn't have money anymore that didn't mean that they weren't going to keep acting like they always had. Now, which fork was it that she was supposed to use, again?
She was definitely overthinking this. There were only two forks, like most families had, and she was just psyching herself out thinking that if she made just one mistake the Coynes would hate her forever. Declan had been sending her furtive glances from his side of the table for the duration of the meal, despite Fiona glaring at him silently to tell him to back off. Imogen had yet to really speak to him and she was thankful for it. He seemed like he was the most intimidating of the bunch, really, and not just because of his eyebrows.
"So, Imogen, do you have any plans for university or college?" Fiona's father, Richard, asked as he laid down his knife and speared another piece of lasagna. Imogen smiled to herself; this she had down perfectly.
"I do, actually! I have pretty good grades, and my art teacher thinks that I have a lot of potential and some of my work has been sent to competitions that have artists participating from across the country, so I think my plan would be to enroll in OCAD - um, I mean Ontario College of Art and Design - and see where thing go from there." Fiona was smiling proudly next to her, a hand surreptitiously on her knee, and Imogen beamed at her, feeling like she finally did something.
Richard looked at her as if she had grown a third head, and the grin slid off of Imogen's face. "Well, what do you plan on doing with that, exactly?" What did she plan on doing with that? She hadn't thought of that yet, which was why she said she would see where things would go. She was only eighteen; she had another four years to figure it out, and maybe even years after that. People didn't just know what they wanted to be when they were teenagers, did they?
"Um, I don't know, sir. Maybe open an art studio? Become an illustrator? There are a lot of thing you can do with an art degree."
Laura was shooting her husband a look that seemed to say stand down, and she gave Imogen a smile of her own. "I think that sounds great, Imogen. If you really have a passion in life, you should go for it. I know Fiona loves fashion design, and I think that she should look into some schools for that."
Imogen bit her tongue. She knew that Fiona was looking at several schools just for that, yes, but she also knew that her girlfriend was not exactly the academic type and that school may not have been an option for her beyond that year. What Fiona would do without a degree and without her family's money was a mystery, but Fiona Coyne was headstrong if nothing else and sticking her in a university for the next four years without her really wanting to be there would be like torture for her after forcing her to repeat her senior year. Next to her, Fiona merely smiled. "Oh, I'm looking into it," she said, and left it at that.
Declan still had yet to contribute to the conversation and seemed to be weighing what he wanted to say in his mind before he would actually come out and say it. Part of Imogen wanted him to just keep his mouth shut and never say anything at all, and another part of her was exasperated at him and curious to find out what it was that he was taking such a long time to deliberate over.
It turned out she wouldn't have to wait much longer, because as soon as she finished asking for another piece of bread Declan spoke. "Have you thought about your future with Fiona?"
Fiona let out one of the most unattractive noises Imogen had ever heard as she choked on a piece of her lasagna, and Richard had to come to her aid with a glass of water and a pat on the back. Imogen dropped her new bread on the table and it bounced off onto the floor, leaving her to sadly contemplate the fact that it was now useless to her before returning to the question at hand. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Declan!"
After a minute in which Imogen could only open and close her mouth without thinking much of anything and in which Fiona looked like she wanted to reach across the table and strangle her brother, something finally kicked in somewhere in her brain.
"I have, actually. I mean, we've only been dating for a while, but Fiona is amazing and I'm not stupid. She means a lot to me, more than anyone else ever has - outside of my family, of course. I'd really like to keep dating her through college, even if we have spend some time farther away from each other, because she's worth that. She's worth having to spend entire nights on Skype and watching my friends see their boyfriends and girlfriends every day and missing her a lot because seeing her when I get to will just be that much better. And then when we graduate maybe we can get a little apartment together. It might not be awesome, but it'll be ours and we can fix it up and maybe get a puppy if she lets me, and I'll get a job somewhere doing something with my art degree, and she'll be famous with her own label because I know she can do it, and who knows? Maybe we can get married. I know she wants a big wedding with a Vera Wang gown and something in October because it's not too hot and it's not too cold. But most of all, I just want my future with her to be happy, you know?"
She wasn't aware of how much she had babbled until she blinked and met Declan's eyes only to see that he was smirking, very much satisfied. Her gaze trailed over to Richard and Laura, and both of them seemed extremely pleased as well, Laura's hand pressed over her mouth. Finally, with a hint of apprehension, she landed on Fiona, who had tears in her eyes and looked like she was seeing Imogen for the first time in her life.
The spell over the table was broken when Imogen finally cleared her throat. "Um, can I have another piece of bread? I dropped mine."
Laura laughed and moved into action, handing her another one. "Of course, dear. Now, Fiona, how is your grade in your History class doing? The last time I talked to you, you were a little upset about how you did on your last assignment."
Fiona didn't reply right away, instead taking the time to find Imogen's hand under the table and squeeze it tightly, as if she wanted to make sure that she was still there and she was still real. Imogen repeated the action, letting her know that, yes, yes she was.
—
"Now, you start being better about calling me, young lady!" Laura chastised Fiona as she stood next to the taxi, watching the man load their bags into the trunk.
Fiona rolled her eyes. "Yes, mother. I'll call you every night, how does that sound?" Laura nodded her approval and then hugged Fiona tightly before letting her go and scanning her over as if memorizing how her daughter looked just then until the next time she saw her. After that it was Richard's turn to hug her, and then Declan's.
Laura smiled at Imogen, who was standing off to the side while the family farewell was going on, and gave her a hug as well. "You're a good girl, Imogen. Just keep an eye on Fiona for me, will you?" was all she said before stepping back to let Richard in.
Richard loomed over here, looking every bit as intimidating as he had the first time Imogen had met him, and she shrank away a little. He laughed, then held out his hand for her to shake. Hers was dwarfed in comparison to his, and he nodded. "I'm glad my little girl is happy with you, Imogen. Couldn't have asked for anyone better."
Declan merely nodded to her, approval in his eyes, and Imogen took it. He seemed to be a man of few words anyway.
When Fiona and Imogen were in the taxi a few minutes later, the penthouse lost in the buildings behind them, Fiona leaned her head onto her shoulder and laced her fingers with Imogen's. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Not as bad as I thought it would be, no."
There was another moment of silence between them, and then Fiona shifted so that she could peer up at Imogen. "You can get any puppy you want in the entire world, Imogen." A pause. "As long as I don't have to walk it at five in the morning." Imogen laughed and leaned down to kiss Fiona, letting the muffled sound of New York City envelop them through the windows of their taxi.