The server had gone down, and we spent half a day waiting for the IT crew to bring it back up. The order almost fell through can you imagine the loss we would have faced?
Eleanor Whitmore caught herself, once again, listening to Thomas Hart halfheartedly. They were seated in a little café opposite her office, and he was rambling about the latest project at work. She watched his fingers fidget with a napkin, and thought how, after six months together, she still hadnt been introduced to his family.
She was thirty, an age when the flutter of romance gives way to a longing for certainty. Thomas was a solid fellow diligent, attentive, dependable. A month earlier he had proposed in that very same café where they first met. Eleanor said yes, but an uneasy knot settled in her gut. Whenever she tried to bring up his parents, Thomas diverted the conversation either to the weather or to some urgent matter. She chalked it up to shyness; perhaps he was embarrassed about his modest upbringing or simply unaccustomed to sharing personal details.
Tell me, when will I finally meet your parents? Eleanor asked, pushing aside a cup of cooled tea.
Thomas tensed. The napkin in his hand crumpled into a tight ball. He met her eyes, and a flicker of worry passed through them.
Well go this weekend, he said after a pause.
A rush of joy flooded Eleanors chest, washing away every doubt. At last! She imagined stepping into Thomass family home, his mother embracing her, calling her dear, and the two of them sharing tea and scones at a long oak table.
The days leading up to the weekend were spent in preparation. She roamed three shopping centres hunting for perfect presents. For Thomass mother she bought an elegant cashmere shawl and a bottle of French perfume. For his father she selected a quality tool set that any man would covet. For his sister, Clara, she chose a chic handbag she herself had eyed for months.
On Saturday morning Eleanor rose at six to stay on schedule. Bath, hair, makeup. She slipped into a sleek beige kneelength dress and classic heels timeless elegance for a future daughterinlaw. She turned before the mirror, assessed the result, and thought it was flawless. This is how a proper bridetobe should appear.
Thomas climbed silently into his car. Eleanor started the engine and merged onto the motorway. The radio whispered a soft ballad, while roadside cafés and petrol stations flickered past the windows. She smiled, envisioning the forthcoming meeting, while Thomas kept a tightlipped silence.
Whats the matter, you look glum? Eleanor asked, giving him a quick glance. Nervous?
Just, Thomas clenched his fists on his knees. Dont mind me if something goes wrong, alright?
She furrowed her brow and shifted gears.
What do you mean goes wrong? What could possibly go wrong?
Theyre particular, he muttered, turning his gaze toward the window. Just keep that in mind.
Eleanor wanted to press further, but the navigation announced a left turn. The village they were heading for was tiny a handful of cottages strung along a single lane. The road wound between leaning fences and garden patches, leading them to an old timber house with peeling paint on its shutters.
She cut the engine and looked around. The yard was overgrown; grass grew wild, a stack of firewood leaned in a corner, and rusted tools lay near the outbuilding. Still, she forced a smile. It wasnt wealth that mattered, but the people.
On the porch stood three figures an elderly woman in a faded housecoat, a man in a stretchedout Tshirt, and a young woman of about twentyfive with a scowl on her face.
There you are, Thomass mother said, giving Eleanor a assessing glance.
Eleanor stepped forward, extending her hand. Good afternoon. Im delighted to finally meet you.
The mother shook her hand weakly. The father merely nodded. Clara crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes, and said nothing.
Eleanor turned toward the boot to retrieve the parcels of gifts. She lifted the lid, leaned in for the bags, when a sudden hissing sound tore through the quiet.
From behind the house burst a massive white goose. It was the size of a small dog, its neck long and sinuous, eyes gleaming with fury. It hurtled straight at Eleanor, its beak wide open, wings flaring.
What on earth Eleanor leapt aside, dropping the perfume bag.
The goose did not relent. It swooped at her with a ferocity she had never imagined a farm bird could possess. Its wings slapped her legs, the beak snapped at her shins. She staggered, tried to close the car door, but the bird pursued her relentlessly.
Thomas! she cried, ducking another angry lunge.
Thomas took an uncertain step forward, only to be drowned out by a boisterous laugh loud, rolling, wicked with merriment.
She didnt pass the test! Thomass mother shrieked, clutching her stomach from laughter. Look, look! Georgie has exposed her!
Clara snorted, clearly enjoying the spectacle. A real woman would never be scared of a goose, she jeered, but here she is, trembling in her pretty dress.
Thomass father whipped out his phone and began filming, his face alight with amusement as if this were the best entertainment hed seen in months.
Thomas, do something! Eleanor shouted, trying to fend off the bird, but it kept diving, pecking her calves, beating its wings against her hips.
Thomas moved toward her again, waving his arms hesitantly. The goose distracted itself for a heartbeat, but Thomass mother called out sharply, Dont interfere! Let Georgie handle it! He knows the bad folk!
Thomas froze. He glanced at his mother, then at Eleanor, and obediently stepped back, retreating to the porch where his family stood.
Eleanor backed her car into a corner, the goose still harrying her. Her dress was smeared, her shoes slipped on the uneven ground, and red marks dotted her legs. She stared at Thomas, his mother, his sister, his father still filming, and a cold dread settled inside her.
She realized the humiliation was deliberate. It wasnt an accident or a misunderstanding; it was a test. A cruel, mocking trial contrived by Thomass family to put her in her place. And Thomas, he did nothing.
With a sudden surge, Eleanor hurled herself into the car. The goose pecked at the glass for a few more seconds, then lost interest and waddled away, preening proudly.
Thomas approached the vehicle and knocked on the window. Eleanor lowered the glass a few centimetres.
Eleanor, calm down, please, he said hurriedly. Its just a family tradition. A little trial for a bridetobe. You know, to test character. Mum does this every time.
Eleanor met Thomass gaze straight on. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Inside her, resentment, anger, and disappointment boiled.
There will be no wedding, she said softly, but clearly.
Thomas blinked, as if shed spoken a foreign language. What? Eleanor, whats? It was just a joke
No wedding, she repeated, slipping the engagement ring off her finger and sliding it through the cracked window. Take it back.
Youve gone mad! Thomas tried to open the door, but it was locked. Dont be foolish! Lets talk this through!
Theres nothing left to say, Eleanor replied. She turned the ignition, the engine growled, and the car shuddered. Thomas stood there, bewildered, clutching the ring in his fist. She put the car in reverse, backed out of the driveway, and drove toward the exit. In the rearview mirror she caught the silhouettes of his family on the porch, still laughing.
The first few miles she drove on autopilot, oblivious to the countryside flashing past. Her hands trembled on the wheel, her heart thumped in her throat. Tears welled up, but she brushed them away. She would weep later, at home; for now she just needed to get away.
That evening her phone exploded with calls. Thomas rang again and again, sent messages apologising, pleading for another chance. Eleanor read them but did not answer. Once she answered, heard his hurried, guilty voice, and hung up immediately.
A week later she blocked his number on every messenger, deleted the photos of them together, tossed away the small reminders of Thomas his Tshirt, the novel hed lent her, the coffee mug.
Life slipped back into its ordinary rhythm: work, meetups with friends, the gym. She tried not to think of the incident, yet when she fell asleep she still saw the gooses angry eyes and heard his familys cruel laughter.
A month later a friend mentioned, in the gossip shed heard, that Thomas had married a village girl whose mother had approved him straight away. No geese, no tests.
Eleanor listened, feeling a strange lightness. The goose, the family, their derisive trial had shown her the truth before she could have tied her life to them. She ran her finger over the spot where the ring had once rested, smiled, and thought that, in the end, everything had fallen into place.
