Then the server went down and we spent half a day waiting for the IT guys to bring it back up! The order almost fell through can you imagine the loss?
Poppy caught herself once again halflistening to Andrew. They were in a little café opposite her office, and he was rattling on about some new project at work. She stared at his fingers fidgeting with a napkin and realised that after six months together she still hadnt met his family.
She was thirty, the age when romance feels a bit tired and you start craving certainty. Andrew was a decent bloke hardworking, attentive, reliable. A month ago hed proposed in the very same café where theyd first bumped into each other. Poppy said yes, but a nervous knot settled in her stomach.
Whenever she tried to bring up his parents, Andrew would change the subject. Hed talk about the weather, or invent an urgent task. Poppy chalked it up to shyness perhaps he was embarrassed about his modest upbringing, or he simply wasnt used to sharing personal details.
Listen, when am I finally going to meet your parents? Poppy asked, pushing aside her nowlukewarm coffee.
Andrew tensed. The napkin in his hand turned into a crumpled ball. He met her eyes and a flicker of worry flashed through them.
This weekend well go, he said after a pause.
Joy burst into Poppys chest, washing away all doubt. Finally! She could picture herself stepping into Andrews family home, his mother pulling her into a hug and calling her dear, tea and scones spread across a big wooden table.
The days leading up to the weekend were spent hunting for the perfect gifts. She trotted around three shopping centres, buying a luxurious silk shawl and a bottle of French perfume for Andrews mum, a highquality toolbox for his dad the sort any bloke would drool over and a chic handbag for his sister, one shed been eyeing herself.
On Saturday morning Poppy rose at six, managed a quick shower, hair, makeup and slipped into an elegant kneelength beige dress with classic heels. She twirled in front of the mirror, gave herself a nod of approval. Perfect thats how a future daughterinlaw should look.
Andrew slipped into the car in silence. Poppy turned the engine over, merged onto the motorway as gentle ballads floated from the radio. Roadside cafés and petrol stations flashed past. She smiled, dreaming of the meeting, while Andrew kept a tense silence.
You look gloomy, Poppy said, throwing a quick glance his way. Nervous?
Just, Andrew clenched his fists on his knees. Dont worry if something goes wrong, okay?
She furrowed her brow, shifted gears.
What do you mean goes wrong? What could possibly go wrong?
Well, theyre particular, he muttered, looking out the window. Just keep that in mind.
Before she could press further, the navigation announced a left turn. The village they were heading for was tiny a handful of houses stretched along a single lane. The road wound between sagging fences and garden beds. The GPS finally stopped in front of an old wooden cottage, its shutters peeling like sunworn paint.
Poppy turned the engine off and looked around. The garden was a bit wild grass everywhere, a stack of firewood in a corner, a shed littered with rusty tools. She forced a smile. Its not about the house, its about the people.
On the porch three figures were already waiting: an elderly woman in a faded dressing gown, a man in a stretchedout Tshirt, and a twentysomething girl with a scowl.
Here you are, Andrews mum said, giving Poppy a scrutinising look.
Poppy stepped forward, extending her hand.
Hello. Im really pleased to finally meet you.
Mum gave a halfhearted shake. Dad merely nodded. The sister crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes and said nothing.
Poppy turned to the boot to fetch the gift bags. She lifted the lid, reached in, and at that moment a loud hissing erupted.
From behind the cottage burst an enormous white goose, the size of a small dog, with a long, winding neck and eyes that looked like theyd just watched a horror film. The beast charged straight at Poppy, beak wide, wings flapping.
What the Poppy leapt aside, sending the perfume bag flying.
The goose didnt stop. It swooped at her with a fury shed never expected from a domestic bird. Its wings knocked at her legs, the beak jabbed painful little nips at her calves. Poppy tried to shut the car door, but the goose kept chasing, giving her no breathing room.
Andrew! Poppy shouted, trying to dodge another swoop.
Andrew made a tentative step forward, but a booming, delighted laugh ripped through the air.
Oh, she didnt pass the test! Andrews mum roared, clutching her belly with mirth. Look, look! Goshs got her right where we wanted!
His sister snorted, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
A real woman wouldnt be scared of a goose, she sneered. This ones a total wimp in that fancy dress.
Dad whipped out his phone and started filming, his face lit up as if this were the best entertainment hed seen all month.
Andrew, do something! Poppy pleaded, swatting at the bird as it kept pecking her shins and flapping at her hips.
Andrew lunged, waving his arms uselessly. The goose momentarily paused, then his mum shouted sharply:
Dont interfere! Let Gosh sort it out! He knows the bad people!
Andrew froze, stared at his mum, then at Poppy, and slunk back, retreating to the porch where his family stood.
Poppy leaned against the car, cornered by the aggressive goose. Her dress was smeared, red bite marks dotted her legs, her heels slipped on the uneven ground. She stared at the family mum, sister, dad with his phone and felt a cold shiver run through her.
It wasnt an accident or a misunderstanding. It was a test. A cruel, mocking trial devised by Andrews family to put her in her place, while the groom simply watched.
With a desperate tug, Poppy dove back into the car. The goose kept pecking at the windshield for a few more seconds, then lost interest and strutted off, preening like a victorious rooster.
Andrew approached, tapped on the window. Poppy lowered it just enough to let a few centimeters of glass show.
Poppy, calm down, please, he said hurriedly. Its just a family tradition a little character test for wouldbe brides. Mum always does this.
Poppy stared straight into his eyes. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, anger and disappointment roiling inside.
There wont be a wedding, she said quietly but firmly.
Andrew blinked, as if the words hadnt landed.
What? Poppy, what are you saying? It was just a joke
No wedding, she repeated, sliding the ring off her finger and pushing it through the crack in the window. Take it.
Youve lost your mind! Andrew shouted, trying to open the door, only to find it locked. Dont be foolish! Lets talk this through!
Theres nothing left to talk about.
She turned the key, the engine purred, the car shuddered. Andrew stood there, bewildered, clutching the ring. Poppy put it in reverse, pulled away, and the familys laughing silhouettes faded in the rearview mirror.
The first few miles she drove on autopilot, the scenery flashing by unnoticed. Her hands trembled on the wheel, her heart thumped somewhere in her throat. Tears welled up, but she brushed them away. Shed weep at home; now she just needed to get out of there.
That evening her phone rang nonstop. Andrew called again and again, sent apologetic texts, begged for another chance. Poppy read them but didnt reply. Once she answered, his frantic, guilty voice met her ear and she hung up immediately.
A week later she blocked his number on every app, deleted every photo of them together, tossed the few mementoes his Tshirt, the book hed lent her, the coffee mug.
Life slid back into its usual rhythm: work, catchups with friends, the gym. She tried not to think about the goose, but sometimes, as she drifted off to sleep, she still saw its angry eyes and heard the familys laughter.
A month later a friend mentioned something shed heard through mutual acquaintances. Andrew had married a village girl his mum approved straight away. No goose, no tests.
Poppy listened, feeling a lightness rather than pain. That ridiculous goose, that overthetop family, had shown her the truth before she ever got tangled up in their drama. She ran a finger over the spot where the ring had been, smiled, and thought, Everything worked out for the best.
