Fool's Gold

I shifted in bed a little. I had been awake for almost a half hour and Enola showed no signs of waking soon. I looked at the clock with a sigh. I got out of bed and grabbed my phone. I exited the room silently. I didn't want Enola to wake if she wasn't ready yet. I went down to the living room nervously. I sat down and stared at the contact screen I had pulled up. I wanted to talk to my mum. I sighed heavily and pressed the call button. I waited patiently for her to answer.
"Harry, honey, are you alright?" My mum asked worried when she answered.
"I'm fine, Mum." I smiled a bit. "How are you doing?" I asked sweetly.
"I'm doing very well, my darling. What did you need to talk to me about that you had me worrying all night because of a cryptic text message?" She asked with an attitude.
I bit my lip, "I wanted to ask you something without you interrogating me, please." I knew I sounded nervous and that's why she promised to try not to hound me. "How do you know when you're in love?" My voice held a tinge of embarrassment.
She sighed, "It's different for everyone. There are the clichés like seeing you growing old together. You'd give up your own happiness for another. You find your happiness in someone else. Your emotions are tied to theirs. You feel more comfort with that person. You see things in them that you wish you saw in yourself. You see things in them that no one else can. They affect you in a way that no one else can." I thought silently. I felt all of that with Enola. "I think that you have to know yourself enough to trust what your heart is telling you."
"Mummy." I murmured, still feeling quite embarrassed.
"Yes, Harry?" She responded.
"I think I'm in love." I said as a smile grew on my face.
"Now can I ask you a million questions?" She sounded as happy as I felt.
"Yes." I laughed.
"Who is she? How old is she? What does she do? Where does she live? When do I get to meet her?" My mum bombarded me.
I couldn't help but laugh more, "Enola. Twenty three. Artist. LA. I don't know."
"Wait. Enola? The girl you met in Ireland?" My mother sounded shocked.
"Yeah." I blushed even though she couldn't see me. I knew the look of confusion she was wearing. "I know. I know it's crazy but mum, I know it. I know that I love her. This holiday was just supposed to be a thing to see if we could actually be something more and I...Mum, she's everything."
"Harry, it's a bit soon. And you haven't seen anyone else in a few days. Maybe you should think about it once you're home." My mum's happiness faded.
"No, Mummy, I know. It's not like I haven't spent time talking to the boys or anything. I just...she is the most amazing, loving, tender person I have ever met. Yesterday with her was something else. We went into the city and we went in like twenty different art galleries and every one held so much happiness and excitement for her. Watching her look at the paintings and sculptures and photographs was... I felt this, joy, in seeing the light in her eyes, seeing how excited she was. I could've spent the rest of my life going into musty old buildings and dreary galleries just so I could see the smile on her face. And when she got to see the workspace for this pottery shop." I gushed. "Mum, she spent five years in art school but she was so ready to learn what this old man was teaching her even though she already knew about painting pottery. She's got this thirst for knowledge and beauty that makes me want to see the world through her eyes." I heard my mum make a noise. "I don't understand how she can see some of these things. She sees these passionate encounters on the street and she still believes in all of the wonderful things about people." I sighed, "She is fascinating in every way."
My mum giggled, "Harry, I would love to meet her and I'm sure your sister would too."
"Mum, I don't know. She is going to be quite busy after this trip." I stated.
"Is she going to join you on tour?" My mother inquired.
I grumbled, "Yes, for a few days."
"I will come out when she does."
"But Mum, don't you think that she might get a little overwhelmed meeting you, Gemma and the lads all in one day. I mean, the boys are already pretty scary on their own. And I don't want you guys to meet too soon. I don't want to like...scare her away." I mumbled not wanting to hurt her feelings.
"Harry, you could just say that you're not ready for that." My mum laughed. I sighed and rubbed my face. "Plus, if you love each other so much, don't you think that she would want to meet me?"
"Well, I haven't told her yet Mum. I haven't told her any of this. I don't know if she feels the same way." I laid my head on the back of the sofa with a sigh.
"You should tell her, Harry. She might not know how she feels yet but she'll appreciate your honesty and willingness to be vulnerable for her. It could sway the way she feels. She might be up in the air because she isn't sure of what you feel and doesn't want to be hurt." My mum explained.
"I don't know. I feel like she loves me too but she's so..." I grunted. I was overthinking.
"What do you mean you feel like she loves you too? What makes you feel that?" My mother asked.
I blushed, "When I kiss her, the way she leans in and holds me tighter. The way just touching her hand makes her relax. When we've talked about some not so good things, she wants me to cuddle her. There are some other things as well but we're not going to talk about that.
"Harry, it is okay to talk to me about sex. I know what it is and how it works." My mum teased.
"Mum, that's weird." I shuddered at the thought.
"Come on, you want to know if she loves you right? Just tell me, you don't have to get graphic." She pressed on. I sighed heavily, feeling more embarrassed by the second. I told my mother of how the encounters we had were intense and passionate but we could be playful and silly as well.
"It sounds like she loves you too." My mum's smile could be heard. I blushed and laughed nervously. My head shot up when I heard my name. Enola was standing next to the sofa completely nude, the way I had left her in the bed "Oh Harry, is that her?" My mum gasped in excitement.
"Morning, baby." I smiled at Enola as I ignored my mum.
She sat down next to me and snuggled into my side, "Morning. Who are you talking to?"
"My mum." I replied. She nodded and laid her head on my shoulder. She closed her eyes and grabbed the blanket from the floor. She covered herself and started to drift back to sleep in my arms. "Maybe I should go, Mummy." I said into the phone.
Enola shook her head and whispered, "Just talk to your mother. I don't mind. I'm just going to go back to sleep." I bit my lip then returned my attention to my mother.
"Well, she sounds lovely." My mum's happiness had returned.

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