A test of Love by Navaura Campbell (simple e reader .txt) 📖

she understood. "Are you afraid of what they'll think of me?" She whispered. Jordan swallowed the queasiness in his stomach, "The Irish and African Americans don't get along all that well. Especially in Chi town where my family's from."
"What area are they from?"
"Bridgeport. There's not many Irish descendants there anymore."
Denise sighed, "Really?"
"No, they all started to migrate elsewhere by the early nineteen hundreds."
"How long has your family been there?"
"Since the late 1800's. My dad's uncle came to America when he was seventeen and that just happened to be where he landed."
"Connacht Ireland, right?"
"Yes."
"So, what other reasons do you have to believe that your family may not like me?"
"I'm not sure how they'll respond to you."
"Why's that?"
"Because, as far as I know, you're the first African American to be brought home."
"Oh." Denise continued to focus on objects outside her window. She was the first African American they'd ever had introduced to their family?
"They did accept my mom, De-De and she was Italian, so maybe they'll accept you too."
Denise swallowed sharply, "It's not that simple for me, Jordan."
"Why not?"
"Because," Denise sighed, "You're mom didn't look too different than the Irish."
"She had dark skin."
"Her skin wasn't as dark as mine." She stated softly, trying not to be offensive.
Denise sighed again and closed her eyes, not sure if she'd made the right decision to come along with him.
"It's too late to change your mind, De-De." It was almost as if he'd heard her thoughts.
Denise whispered, "I don't know if I can handle it if your family doesn't like me."
Jordan grasped the hand nearest his seat in hers. "Denise, it's the twenty first century. I'm sure they can learn to accept you if they do have any notions. Besides, even if they are suspicious of you at first, they will learn to see beyond your color."
"Sure."
"I love you, Denise. They'll respect you because I'm family and you're my girl. In time they'll come to love you just as much as I do. Besides, there is one person I think who will readily accept you."
Denise turned her gaze back to him. "Who?"
"My uncle Arlyn."
"Why's that?"
"Because you'll probably be the only person willing to sit and listen to his stories of being a boy in Ireland."
Denise's eyes grew huge, "He grew up in Ireland?"
"Yes, he did. Plus, Lasaire will be there, so she'll help lighten the mood. She has that affect on everyone, if her fiance doesn't kill it."
"Lasaire's getting married?" Denise's eyes widened.
"Yep. to, Kyle Forsicth, the most stuck up, over bearing, judgmental brute there is."
Denise mumbled to herself, disbelieving that Lasaire was getting married. "When is she getting married and how old is she?"
"She's twenty one and will be getting married when she's twenty two. She's a senior at the University of California."
"Really, it seems like she just went off to college."
"Lasaire's a year older than us De-De, or did you forget?"
Denise shrugged, "I did forget. So, how'd she meet this beau of hers?"
"I'll let her tell you that one."
Sometime later, Jordan glanced down at the clock. He saw that they'd been traveling ten hours. Another four hours and they'd be there. Releasing a loud sigh, he glanced down at the gas bar and noticed that it was about one quarter to empty. He continued on Interstate eighty one till he came to a sign that read, Red Water, Indiana. Denise had nodded off about three hours ago, too tired to stay awake. He'd driven for about six hours and then she'd driven for about four hours so that he could get to sleep, and now he was driving the rest of the way. Just as he pulled into a gas station off the interstate, Denise stirred awake.
"Are we there?"
"Not yet, four more hours, and we will be." He stated, pulling the parking break up and stepping out of the car. Getting out, he glanced up into the night's sky, feeling the slight drop in temperature. That was one thing he hated about driving in the winter, it was extremely cold. He'd learned that the temperature was around twenty five degrees and would be steady dropping till dawn, where it would finally set. They were supposed to arrive in Chicago by six thirty later that morning. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was eleven thirty at night. Four more hours would place them at three thirty, four o'clock when they'd get there. The perfect timing. Sighing heavily, Jordan leaned into the window and instructed Denise to roll up the windows and lock all the doors for safety. Denise sighed, "It's hot in here."
"Why don't you roll up the windows lock the doors and then come inside with me, that way we can grab something to eat."
Denise did as she was instructed before getting out of the vehicle herself. Meeting Jordan around the driver's side of the car, she grasped her hand in his. The air felt good on her cheeks.

Once the gas had been pumped and they'd grabbed something from inside, two chimichanga's, a bag of Doritos a piece and two fountain drinks, they were on the road again. Twenty minutes into the drive, after both had eaten their meal, Denise sighed, "So, Jordan, what is your family like?"
"Well, my Aunt Marissa is a born and bread Irish girl. She and uncle Mel married one another when they were teenagers."
Denise raised a brow. "Really?"
"Yep."
"They allow that in Ireland?"
"They did back then. If the parents gave consent, then yes, they allowed it. They still do here."
"Wow."
"Anyhow, she and my uncle Mel's been married for thirty plus years."
"Wow, that's a long time."
"True. They're also really nosy, so they may try to get information out of you about how long you and I have been together and stuff like that. And the correct response to their prying eyes and ears is to say nothing, because once you open your mouth, they have ways of getting you to talk without even trying too."
"Oh, do they?" Denise inquired, balling her wrapper up and placing it in the plastic bag they'd been given with their dinner inside.
"Yes, they do." He stated firmly.
"Ok, so who else should I watch out for?"
"The rest of the family is somewhat alright I guess. My Uncle Arlyn likes to tell stories of being in Ireland as a boy. I suspect you'll like that. He's a great story teller too, the only problem is that he doesn't know when to stop talking. Plus, half of the stories he tells are in dispute as to whether or not they are true. He and uncle Mel are brothers, so what uncle Arlyn says is true sometimes, uncle Mel swears up and down he's lying."
"Ok."
"Uncle Arlyn has never been married, therefore, he tends to be a bit shy around women." He took another breath and continued on. "There's Lasaire's mom and dad. Adrienne, known as Addy. She's English and her father, Dezmund Gregory is Irish. He's my dad's real brother, the only real brother. Addie's more adventurous, while he's a bit of a prude. Everything has to be done properly at all times. He's an accountant for a law firm in England. He and Aunt Addie usually swing by during the holidays. It's quite an interesting spectacle, to see how those two get along. They do a lot of compromising because without it, their marriage wouldn't have gotten as far as it has these past years."
"Oh, ok." Denise cleared her throat, "What about Lasaire's boyfriend?"
"Fiance," Jordan corrected, answering her question. "Kyle is a dick. He complains every year about something, if it isn't the food, then it's something else. He's not used to eating Irish dishes, so of course, he feels the need to become the all American ass hole by saying something vulgar about the food."
"Really?"
"Yes, I don't see why he and Lasaire are even together. He's so much of an arrogant guy. Everything always has to be to his liking. Lasaire can do much better than that, that's for sure."
Denise smiled at Jordan's obvious distaste for Kyle. "Well, maybe he won't be that bad this year."
Jordan just shook his head, a tight smile at the corners of his mouth. "When you meet him De-De, you'll see what I'm talking about."

Around four thirty that morning, just as he'd calculated, they arrived at a new housing development in one of the many districts of Chicago, the Bridgeport district. They arrived at a two story house, made with white and baby blue paneling. The door itself was made out of white wood. The house stood in a small lot with a few acres of play area. Next to it was an equally beautiful house made of stone. They went up the cement made porch and Denise watched as Jordan rapped on the front door. After the third rap, the door opened and a woman with graying red hair appeared at the door. She gave him a hearty welcome, wrapping arms around him. "hoigh gramach" Hello Grandson. A hard kiss on the cheek was given as she laughed softly, happy to see him.
"Hoigh, grandma. How are you doing?"
Jordan's grandmother grinned at him with light hazelnut colored eyes, "I am good, and you?"
"I'm good."
"That's good, I see you brought a visitor?" Her Irish accent was thick as Denise tried to make out exactly what she was saying. She glanced up at her and then back down at him. "She's black."
Jordan felt his face grow hot, "I know grandma."
"I thought you were told to bring an Irish girl home?"
"She's Irish at heart." Jordan stated, his tone teasing.
"I guess that will have to do then." His grandmother laughed and grabbed him around the shoulders, "Welcome home, Jordan."
"Thank you, grandma."
Jordan walked through the door. Denise was about to follow, when his grandmother stopped her, "What's your name?"
Her tone sounded quarrying, but firm.
"Denise Calloway, ma'am."
The lady stared at her with serious eyes, "What a lovely name, Denise. My name's Leigha.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Williams." Denise held out a hand.

Leigha grabbed Denise's hand and shook it. "Like wise, dear."

"Why don't you two take a load off, Jordan? I'm sure you guys have been driving all night." Mrs. Williams suggested as she took Jordan and Denise to a room located on the second floor, in the back. This room was facing the hallway.
Denise placed her bags on one of two twin beds inside the room. Jordan was about to place his bags down on the other, when his grandmother said, "And your room Jordan will be down the hall from this one."
His grandma turned away from the doorway of Denise's room and made her way to a room, located across from the bathroom. This room was papered with blue and yellow flowered wall paper, with bunk beds. The bunks were made with a blue and yellow striped comforter, with matching pastel yellow sheets. Jordan sat his bag down in the closet sitting directly across from the beds and cleared his throat. "Who am I sharing this room with?" He inquired.
"Your cousin Elliot."
Jordan raised a brow. "Who's Elliot?"
His grandmother raised a brow. "Elliot is the little boy that your aunt Marissa and uncle Mel adopted last Spring."
"Elliot? How old is he?"
"He's fifteen."
Jordan narrowed his brows at this fact, "Fifteen? Why would they want to adopt a fifteen year old, when they already have a thirty and thirty two year old?"
Mrs. Williams shrugged, her hazelnut eyes sparkling, "They wanted to give him a home. Marissa says he's a lost soul."
Jordan cleared his throat. "Ok." He didn't understand this, but if that's the way she saw it, whatever. He rubbed his eyes, "So, judging by the empty bunk, they haven't made it here yet?"
"They're supposed to be here around nine or ten in the morning. When she gets here, we'll start dinner."
Jordan sighed and leaned over next to his grandma to give her a peck on the cheek. She touched her face with a grin. "What did I do to deserve that?"
A shrug of his shoulders and a smile displayed there was no reason. "I love you, nana." His grandmother smiled.