Henry had not grown up with money. He didn't have friends with money. He didn't have friends or family with money. He was not familiar with the comfortably well-off lifestyle that his girlfriend had apparently been living her whole life. Truthfully, he'd been surprised to learn that she came from such a well to-do family. She didn't seem like the type; she wore the same pair of boyfriend jeans as often as she could manage it, and he'd teased her about her favorite and most comfortable sweatshirt more than once. She didn't own anything that was flashy, and her overall personality was down to earth and humble. Learning that she'd managed all of that with less than humble beginnings only made him admire it about her even more. It showed strength of character, and that was important to Henry.
However, while Elizabeth herself showed no signs of her status, they'd been dating for some time and now, after meeting his family at spring break, she'd invited him to come home with her. It had been a big step for her; he could see it in the way she'd asked, and he wouldn't have dreamed of saying no when it was clearly such an important thing for her. For her to be opening up another chapter of her life to him was not something he was going to screw up in any way. He was determined of that. Still, as they drove along a tree-lined driveway that led to a house which Henry could have fit at least two of his childhood homes in, he had to admit he was intimidated. She had assured him more than once it wouldn't be a big deal; the aunt and uncle that she lived with weren't even going to be there, and her brother would be leaving after the first day for a trip with his friends. They would largely be spending the long weekend the same way they would have at UVA, just in a different setting. However, the setting was exactly what was unnerving Henry. He had never been exposed to anything quite like this, and he couldn't help but wonder in spite of himself what his dad would have to say about the whole thing.
"Here we are," Elizabeth said. "We'll unpack later; let's go see the horses."
He'd never seen her so excited. She was normally quite guarded, and seeing her like this was refreshing. As he got out and followed her across the grass, he tried not to gawk at the house or the impeccably maintained grounds around it. Elizabeth, meanwhile, seemed perfectly at home, and Henry tried to focus on that. Seeing her so happy made him feel warm inside, and he loved that he was able to witness that.
"Hi, beautiful," she was saying to the horse in the first stall by the time he reached her. She seemed so comfortable around them, and while they made Henry a little nervous, he was strangely calmed by Elizabeth's ease.
He watched and listened as she animatedly told him about each of the horses in the stable, explaining their names and how old they were and which ones were good for which kind of riding. Her blue eyes were alight with joy and her blonde ponytail swished as she turned from the horse to Henry and back again rapidly while she gestured in emphasis. She looked so beautiful, afternoon sunlight shining on her skin and lighting up the lightest shades of her hair. He was captivated by her, as he always was, but somehow in those moments even more so than usual. He just remained silent, smiling at her as she explained it all to him, rambling on about trail rides and jumps and dressage and horseshoes. This was a new side of her, and Henry had very quickly decided that he adored it. This, he thought, might be his favorite side of Elizabeth. When she'd finished making her rounds to each stall, she ended up close to him again, on the opposite side from where she'd started, and she finally stopped talking long enough for him to get a word in edgewise, not that he'd been trying. He smiled, still didn't speak, and reached out to take her hand, pulling her close to him. There, framed in the doorway of the stable, he kissed her gently. She smiled against him and his hand rested on her hip, just at the waistband of her favorite jeans.
"You are incredible," he said softly, the only thing he could think to say, and she laughed. She pulled back to look at him, smiling up at him as her familiar ocean eyes met his.
"I'm so glad you're here," she said, and just like that Henry didn't feel so out of place anymore. It hit him suddenly, and hard, and he swallowed against the feeling that crept into him. It was as if, with everything that she was, every wonder that she incited within him, Elizabeth had become something more than he realized she was. She'd become home. With her at his side, Henry suddenly realized, he felt like he was home, no matter where he was. He thought, in that moment, that he could have been anywhere in the world but as long as she was looking at him like that, he'd feel like he was right where he belonged.
"Are you okay?" she asked. He smiled brightly at her.
"Never better," he answered truthfully, because Henry McCord was quite certain he'd just kissed the woman he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with.
"Okay," she answered with a smile. "You're looking at me weird."
Henry shook his head and kissed her on the cheek.
"It just makes me happy to see you so happy," he told her, and she couldn't help but smile at that.
"Well," she began, "you're about to see me even happier because we're going riding!"
Henry was not so sure about that, but he just nodded; right then, he would have followed her to the ends of the earth, be it on foot, in a plane, or even on horseback.
"You gotta take it slow," Elizabeth was laughing nearly two hours later as she and Henry headed back toward the stable. Henry was walking, holding the reins of the horse he had been riding- that was, until he'd gotten a little too confident and ended up on the ground. He was unhurt, though a little sore, and Elizabeth was getting quite the kick out of the whole thing.
"I told you," she added, still laughing. Henry nodded reluctantly.
"You did," he admitted.
"Should have listened to me," Elizabeth sang.
"What's new?" Henry shot back at her with a grin over his shoulder.
"Exactly," Elizabeth laughed. As they approached the stable, Henry became aware of a figure leaning against the stable door, too far away still for Henry to make out.
"Who's that?" he asked as he squinted at the figure. Elizabeth looked, and then smiled.
"That's my brother," she replied, and then she was gone, racing ahead of Henry to get to the stable more quickly, leaving Henry shaking his head. By the time he reached them, Elizabeth was off of the horse and the Adams siblings were hugging, one enthusiastically and the other rather reluctantly. They broke apart when Henry reached them, and Elizabeth smiled at him.
"Henry, this is my brother Will. Will, Henry," she said.
"Hey," Will said, and Henry held his hand out to shake his. Henry was well aware of the fact that he was meeting the only remaining living member of Elizabeth's nuclear family, and he subconsciously drew himself up slightly.
"Hey," Henry replied. "It's great to meet you."
"Yeah, you too," Will said. His eyes, both as calculating and as warm as Elizabeth's, raked over Henry and the horse that he was walking next to. When he met Henry's gaze again, his eyes were sparkling with mirth.
"Didn't quite make it, huh?" he surmised. Henry shook his head slightly.
"Not quite," he said. Will looked between Henry and Elizabeth and laughed as he clapped Henry on the shoulder.
"You've got a lot to learn about my sister and her tricks," Will said. "She gave you the fiestiest horse in this place."
"Hey!" Elizabeth objected. "You didn't have to out me like that, you know."
Will laughed as he turned and headed toward the house.
"What are brothers for?" he called, and Henry just grinned. He didn't mind; being thrown from a horse and ending up with wounded pride seemed to him a small price to pay.
The house was already silent by the time Henry woke the next morning.
He rose earlier even than he usually did, and with a backwards glance at Elizabeth in the big bed they had shared on their first night in her aunt and uncle's house, he left her there peacefully sleeping, looking more at rest than she ever did while awake. Something about Elizabeth was almost always calculating something, and Henry wondered vaguely if the same was true about him, if Elizabeth ever saw him asleep and thought the same things about him.
With a little smile on his face, he slipped out of the bedroom and down the big staircase, his feet padding softly against hardwood floors as he made his way toward the kitchen. He was nervous, in a way that he couldn't quite locate within his chest, but he supposed it was probably the size and grandeur of the place; he did feel calmer now after spending a day there with Elizabeth so at ease, but there was still something unnerving about the place. Henry had grown up with so little, kitchen table bills and the subtle undercurrent of a stress that his parents didn't outright discuss. He felt it even now when he returned to Pittsburgh, though it impacted his younger siblings now more than it did him.
Elizabeth, Henry reminded himself as he spotted a photo on the hallway wall, had suffered in different ways.
Drawing closer to the framed image, Henry studied it. He recognized Elizabeth easily, of course, looking adorable with two braids in her blonde hair, somewhere around twelve or thirteen years old if he had to guess. And Will, next to her, his hair scruffy and his freckled face bright with a grin. And behind them, a chestnut haired man with a kind-looking face, and a tall blonde woman who looked in so many ways like his Elizabeth.
He'd never seen a photo of her parents before, and looking into the bright smile of a younger, less burdened version of Elizabeth, something in him ached for her. He thought again about his parents and their kitchen table bills, and felt a little bit guilty, though for what he wasn't exactly certain.
He didn't get much of a chance to dwell on it, though, because there were footsteps on the stairs behind him and he turned to find Will, loping down the staircase with a duffle bag on his shoulder and the same graceful quality that Henry often saw in Elizabeth.
His eyes were not cold, but a little wary, as they landed on Henry.
"Hey," Henry started.
"Morning," Will replied. His eyes fell to the photo on the wall, and his expression gave away nothing as he asked, "Did she tell you about them?"
Henry wondered briefly if there was a correct answer to this question.
"Just a little," he answered honestly. "I'm sorry."
Will shrugged, but it felt genuine, not like a brush off.
"Thanks," he replied. Though their conversation was polite, it felt like Will was sizing him up, and Henry couldn't help but think about how important that was.
"Elizabeth said you're off on a trip?" he asked. Will quirked an eyebrow at him, looking just like his sister, and Henry wondered which of the people in the photograph that look came from.
"Elizabeth?" Will repeated lightly. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone call her that."
"Really?" Henry asked.
Will shrugged again.
"I guess you're different," he said, but the smile on his face was warm enough that Henry didn't feel put off by it.
That was another quality the Adams siblings seemed to share.
"After all," Will started, "she's never brought a guy home before."
Henry tried and failed not to think too hard on that.
"But yes," Will continued, "I am off on a trip." He lifted the duffel bag in acknowledgment, and Henry smiled as they drew level with each other there in the foyer, Will extending a hand to him. Henry shook it, and Will grinned.
"Nice meeting you," he said. "See you around."
"You, too."
And then Will was gone, and Henry glanced back up the stairs, thinking of Elizabeth.
There was so much still that he didn't know about her, but now more than ever, he hoped he would, and soon. He remembered his mother, in the kitchen of his childhood home, telling him that when he met the right girl, he would know.
And he did, he realized as he looked back at the photograph.
No sooner had he thought it did Elizabeth herself appear on the upper landing of the stairs, and he smiled up at her in her pajama shorts and matching top, looking every bit as adorable as she did in the photograph.
"Hi," she said, sounding puzzled.
"Hey," Henry answered as she drew level with him. Her eyes drifted to the photo and he watched her closely, thinking of what Will had said and hoping he hadn't crossed some line unknown to him.
But there was something soft in her eyes, and she smiled knowingly.
"How long have you been up?" she asked, and Henry saw her redirect for what it was.
"Just a few minutes," he replied, following her as she led the way to the kitchen. "I ran into your brother as he was leaving."
"Yeah?" she asked. "Was he a jerk to you?"
"No," Henry laughed.
"He's nineteen," Elizabeth said over her shoulder. "You should know what jerks nineteen year olds can be."
"Shane is nineteen," Henry replied.
"Exactly," Elizebth quipped.
"I was nineteen not so long ago," Henry countered.
"And I'm sure you were an absolute menace," Elizaebth teased, and Henry laughed.
"You might be right," he conceded as he leaned against the counter, watching her prepare the coffee pot.
He thought again of the photo in the hallway.
They didn't need to openly talk about it, maybe, at least not right now. He had seen the way she softened, looking between him and the picture, and for now Henry thought that was plenty.
"Is it true," he began as she stretched to pull two mugs from the cabinet above her, "that nobody but me calls you Elizabeth?"
She looked at him, surprised.
"Did Will say that?" she asked, and he nodded in confirmation. She seemed to think about it for a second, and shrugged her shoulders.
"I guess it is," she agreed, and then playfully narrowed her eyes at him. "But if you ever try to call me Lizzie, I'll kill you."
Henry grinned.
"Cross my heart," he said, and then she was off, planning their day aloud, telling him everything she wanted to show him, and Henry was thinking that he was more than happy to be the only person who called her Elizabeth.