by S. L. Scott
She takes a deep breath, and as if the air between us has finally cleared, she says, “I should let you get back to whatever you…” Her eyes glance to the bed. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
As she walks to the door, she says, “Thank you again for being so kind.”
I nod as she walks out, closing my eyes and exhaling loudly. “Shit.” I take a deep breath and hold it in momentarily, before exhaling the air, my nerves, and all my fears out once and for all.
“Hey? Everything alright in here?” Evan asks, walking back in. “I saw my mother. She looked like she’d been crying.”
I lift my head and open my eyes. “Yes. Everything is better than alright.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. Oh, and she told me about dinner tonight. Thoughts?”
“I think we should go.”
His eyebrows shoot up and he starts nodding. “I think that would be good.” Coming closer, his hands grace my face and he says, “So maybe we should postpone our plans until later. You seem a bit distracted.”
“Not distracted. Just surprised how everything has turned out. Maybe even a little overwhelmed with all that has happened today. I could just be tired from traveling though.”
He leads me to the bed and we sit down. “You should take a nap. You’ll feel better and you know we need all the energy we can muster for dessert tonight.”
“Dessert? Why do we need…” I stop mid sentence, realizing he’s talking dirty to me and I play along. “Yes, we do because I have a sweet tooth that only you can satisfy.”
He laughs which makes me smile. I lay back on the bed and he kisses me on the temple. “Happy napping.” He leaves it at that, walking out the back door. I fall asleep to the sound of him scrubbing old wax off one of his surfboards in the grass.
I lift my head, cracking my eyes open to find Evan doing God only knows what with his tongue on my leg. I clear my throat and he pops up. “Oh, good, you’re awake,” he says with a big smile. “We need to be at dinner soon. I thought you might want to get dressed.”
I look down at my body. I’m only wearing my bra and panties. “How’d I get undressed?” He looks around and whistles. “And what were you doing to my leg?”
“I was trying to wake you without scaring you.”
“By licking me?”
“That was only once. You obviously didn’t feel the twenty kisses all over your face, so I had to resort to a new tactic.”
I shake my head, smiling at him. “This conversation is too weird for my sleepy brain. I’m gonna shower.”
“I’ll join you.”
“No! Nope. If you come in there we’ll never make it to dinner and I want to make a good impression on your parents.”
“You already have, baby.”
“No!” I point at him. “You keep your sexiness out here and away from my nakedness.” He crosses his arms… and then comes that sexy smile. “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about right there.” I rush into the bathroom and lock the door before I get caught up in fantastic sex with my fiancé. As the water warms, I start questioning why exactly I’m resisting fantastic sex with him. Dinner. That’s right. We must make it to dinner with his parents. Yeah, all horniness I had is gone with that thought.
Forty minutes later, Evan and I are walking hand-in-hand to the main house. Butterflies attack the inside of my stomach as soon as we walk in the door. Ms. Chart, Hugh, and Claire are all in the kitchen laughing together. Claire sits at the bar while Hugh mixes drinks and Ms. Chart cuts vegetables.
“Hi, can we help?” Evan asks, smiling while taking in the scene before him. It’s all very Norman Rockwell and something I’m sure Evan’s not accustomed to. The joy of the setting also makes me happy, especially for Evan.
“Son,” his dad says, walking around the counter to greet him. They hug each other. “It’s been a few months. You’re looking good. Colorado seems to be treating you well.” Hugh turns to me. “Mallory.” He takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You look lovelier than ever. Congratulations on the engagement. I know from speaking with Evan that he’s very excited. We’re happy to have you joining our family.”
He’s always so warm and welcoming. “Thank you,” I reply, “I’m just as excited.”
“Hi, Mallory,” Claire says, touching my arm. “Nice rest?”
“It was good. Thank you. I love being here. It’s Heaven on earth.”
“We think so too,” she says with a light laugh. “I just wish we could visit more, but work and Manhattan keep us busier than ever these days.”
I sit down next to her. “Have you ever considered moving here or is that not an option?”
Hugh sets down what looks to be Margarita in front of each of us. “Tonight we have lots to celebrate.” He holds up his drink and all of us hold our glasses up for his toast. “Happy engagement.”
After the toast, Claire turns back to me and says, “Maybe in retirement one day, but not now.”
Hugh laughs. “I don’t think I could get Claire out of New York. She’d get island fever.”
“I like to read. I could learn to relax,” she says, looking from him to me. “Maybe.”
Evan is grabbing carrot bites off of the cutting board and getting his hand smacked when I offer, “Ms. Chart, I’d love to help. Put me to work.”
“No, no,” she says, admonishing. “You’re a guest. Enjoy.”
Walking around the counter, I stand next to her. “I’d rather help. Maybe I can finish the salad and you can work on the main course.”
She smiles and rubs my back. “You’re a dear. Thank you.” I’m handed the knife and she goes to peek inside the oven. “The chicken is almost ready.”
I finish cutting the carrots Ms. Chart started and start on the cucumber while Evan dilly dallies around the kitchen. Obviously this is all new to him, so I help him out. “Hey, babe, do you mind making a dressing?”
“A salad dressing?” he asks, leaning against the counter. “Like make one from scratch?”
“Yes,” I answer with a chuckle. “It’s easy. We’ll do it together.”
The silence in the room makes me look over my shoulder, wondering if everyone has left the kitchen. Nope, they’re all here. Hugh and Claire are watching us with puzzled faces. I think it was the suggestion that we make a dressing that threw them off. I look the other way and Ms. Chart has a sweet smile on her face.
Evan laughs. “We’re new to this. Ms. Chart has spoiled us. So, this dressing. How do I make it?”
“We’ll start with an easy one—Italian dressing. You’ll need…” I go on to explain, helping him measure then mix the liquids and spices.
“That’s impressive, Mallory,” Hugh says, stepping in to help to shake the mixture.
“I always helped my mom in the kitchen,” I say, feeling a little shy with all their attention on me. “I’ve picked up a few basics along the way.”
Evan takes the dressing back in hand, holding it in front of him, proud as a peacock for his contribution, and says, “Let’s eat.”
Dinner is served and we all take a seat except for Ms. Chart. “Are you joining us,” I ask.
“You go ahead. It will be good for you all to be together. I’m sure you have plenty to talk about and I’m missing my favorite show, so I’ll eat in my room tonight.”
“What’s your favorite show,” Evan asks, calling to her as she slips out of the kitchen.
“Wheel of Fortune.” Peeking back in, she adds, “I have a crush on Pat Sajak.”
I giggle, but no one else does. I have a feeling they don’t know who Pat Sajak is.
Hugh opens a bottle of white wine and serves us. We each help ourselves to dinner and start eating.
There’s a moment of silence that makes me look up. My eyes meet Hugh’s and he smiles. “I’m sure this is a very busy time for you with your school work and now planning a wedding. I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for our family and for Evan.”
“We wouldn’t have our son back
if it weren’t for you,” Claire says, setting her fork down.
Hugh says, “I should have told Evan this in New York, but he’s really grown tremendously over the last year and I think Mallory has had a hand in that. You’ve turned into a fine man, Son.”
“Thank you,” he says. “And Mallory does deserve some credit.”
“I don’t need and I definitely don’t deserve any credit when it comes to Evan. He’s made his own choices. I’ve just supported them.” I want to be open with my feelings, even with his parents. “I worried I was ruining Evan’s life some days. Other days, I convinced myself I wasn’t. But my life is better because he’s in it and that’s because I held onto the hope that his life is also better because I’m in it.”
“It is.” Evan leans over and kisses the side of my head. His hand slips down between us, grasping mine securely.
“After seeing your work for the company last fall.” Hugh turns to Evan, and says, “You’ll always have a position at Ashford Holdings if you want it. I won’t pressure you to come back, Evan. You have a brilliant mind and as long as you’re not wasting it, I don’t mind what career you choose.” He leans forward. “He’s also a very smart man to snag you while you’re both young. I think you’ll have a long and happy life together.”
“So do I.” I feel more at ease as the conversation winds down.
He chuckles. “Don’t be afraid to kick his ass every now and then to keep him in line though.”
Now that makes me laugh. “No worries there.”
Claire smiles. “You’re a great girl and my son’s a lucky man.”
“Thank you and if he wants to work for your company, I’ll support that decision. If that’s not his dream, then I fully support that too.”
With a small nod, Hugh smiles. “Thank you.”
During the rest of dinner, the conversation is friendly, but I can’t shake the feeling that something else underlies the tone of the evening.
My instincts are proven right when Claire turns to me and asks, “How are the wedding plans, Mallory?”
Ding. Ding. Ding. Bingo.
“We just arrived today, but it’s been a full day and we’ve made some progress. We decided we want an intimate affair down on the beach.” I look at Evan. “Maybe even a picnic. I’m hoping to secure the caterer while we’re here.”
“A picnic? For a wedding?” Claire asks astonished, holding her hand against her chest as if those words pain her.
“I like the picnic idea—” Evan starts to say before a fork crashes onto a china plate.
We both jump and look at Claire who is furiously sipping her wine. She closes her eyes and as if she’s counting to ten, takes a deep breath, opens her eyes again and smiles. “Excuse me. My fork must have slipped. Mallory, would you consider a catered affair if we compromise on the beach part?”
“Oh, um… I don’t know. I’ll definitely think about tha—”
“Mother, how many people do you have on your guest list?” Evan cuts me off, sounding irritated.
“I was just making an informal list in my head—”
“The number, Mother,” Evan gets short, his tone clipped with impatience.
“Five Hundred.”
“What!” I spit out, shocked and glad my mouth is empty or I would have spewed food or wine everywhere. My head is already shaking when I say, “I’m not having five hundred people at my wedding. Evan, I’m not. I, I, I can’t walk down the aisle in front of that many strangers and—”
“It’s okay, I’ll handle this,” he says, rubbing my thigh and reassuring me. He looks back at his mother sitting across the table from him. “That number is too high.”
“Four hundred,” Claire bargains.
“No.” Evan is firm.
Claire turns to Hugh who looks resigned to losing this battle. He shrugs and she rolls her eyes, finally caving in. “Fine. How many can we invite?”
Evan puts on his most winning smile then looks at me, redirecting the attention. “I’ll let my fiancée answer that.”
All eyes are on me. I look down at the cloth napkin I been twisting violently in my lap and mumble, “Ten.”
“What, dear? Speak up.” I look up to meet Claire’s hopeful eyes.
I repeat, “I was thinking more along the lines of ten, maybe fifteen guests for your side.”
“Ten?” She coughs, having a slight choking attack, which is odd since she hasn’t been eating. “I don’t comprehend… um, hmmm,” she stutters, then gulps the rest of her wine, emptying the glass. “Ten. That’s ridiculous. Ten? Only ten people? That’s impossible. Tell them, Hugh. Impossible.”
Evan leans forward and clarifies for her. “Ten. So,” he says, clasping his hands together to break the tension. “Mallory’s graduation is coming up and we’d like to personally invite you to Colorado.”
We all stare at him in a dead silence.
“Dinner with your parents went better than expected,” I say, relieved to be back in the guest house.
“How’d you expect it to go?” Evan asks, flopping down on the bed next to me.
“I don’t know. I’m still not sure what to expect from your family at this point.”
He rolls over and rests his head on my stomach. Running my fingers through his hair lazily, I smile, loving the calmness of moments like this with him. He laughs and my body reverberates from the movement.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“Just remembering when we told them we got engaged.”
“Ahhh, the good times of frazzled nerves and stumbling words. I was nervous, but you were a mess,” I tease him and tug on his earlobe.
“Nervous is an understatement.” He chuckles.
“It all worked out… eventually. “ I remember the relief I felt last December after Evan called them.
“Mother, Dad,” He says then clears his throat. “I want to talk to you about something important.” I press my ear against his hand, so I can hear the other side of the call.
“Evan, what is it?” his mother asks.
“I know a lot has changed this past year. Fuck, just in the last seven months—”
“Please don’t swear,” she admonishes. “It’s unbecoming.”
“Okay,” Evan stops, gulping heavily. I can tell he’s losing his train of thought, so I use my hands to wave, making signals and hoping it helps to keep him on track. “Oh! Yeah, so, I was saying that at times I can’t believe the changes either. My life is so different now and for the better. I think you can both agree with me here.”
“Well, son, I do agree,” his dad responds. “I think you’ve gone through a lot of bad and you seem to finally be getting some good back into your life.”
“Thanks, dad. I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“Honey, what is this about?” His mother is losing patience. “I need to leave for a meeting.”
“I want you to know that I’m taking a leap of faith. Well, not exactly a leap of faith. More like a leap of certainty,” he starts to explain, looking to me while nodding his head like he’s impressed with himself. “Yes, certainty. A leap of guaranteed happiness. A leap of… well, now that I think of it, maybe it’s not even a leap, but more like a jump?” He looks at me for reassurance.
I roll my eyes at my sweet man as he stumbles through this. After taking a deep breath, he announces, “Mallory and I are engaged. It happened officially last night.” I hold my breath and wait for the rapture.
Silence.
Silence.
Mallory gives me two thumbs up, and I hear a shuffling noise from the other end of the line. “Son, it’s Dad. Don’t you think this is too fast?”
“No. I love her,” Evan says, squeezing my hand. “Why put off what we know we want. I don’t want to waste time being away from her in order to make everyone else more comfortable with our decision.”
“Evan…” His mother sighs into the phone. “You’re just starting back to school. Your focus should be there. You seem to be making a lot of big decisi
ons lately. Are you ready to have this dramatic of a change at this stage in your life?”
When Evan exhales I back away from the phone to look at him. I don’t want to be a burden on him. I never wanted that. He closes his eyes and a sadness takes over his expression. Quietly, he responds, “Yes.” That’s all. No further explanation.
Rubbing his back, I try to give him the comfort and support he needs. When he opens his eyes, a gentle smile appears, just for me. I remind him, “It’s okay, babe. We’re in this together.” I squeeze his hand to comfort him, like he did for me earlier.
“Maybe there’s not any more to say except for congratulations,” his mother says.
I watch as Evan’s smile grows. “Really? Do you mean that?”
“You weren’t asking us permission, were you?” Hugh says, “You’re old enough to know what you want.”
“I am and that’s being married to Mallory,” Evan replies, looking right into my eyes. “I love her.”
“I think both of your hormones are in overdrive, but I can tell your minds are made up, so we’ll be there to support your union,” his dad says, sounding happier.
“I love you, Evan,” his mother says. “Give our congratulations to Mallory as well.”
“Thank you and I will. I love you, too, Mom.” I notice he uses the word mom instead of mother. I like it. I think those old emotional wounds are beginning to heal.
The sheet tighten around his body when Evan moves closer. As we lay there stuffed from dinner, he whispers, “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m tired.”
“I’m exhausted,” I say. “This day was draining.”
“So you won’t be mad if we don’t… you know?”
“Sleep sounds erotic to me right now. I’m that tired, mentally and physically exhausted. I think I can forgive you this one time as long as it doesn’t become a habit.”
“I think you’re too sexy to let this become a habit.” He slides up the bed and rests his head on the pillow.
I reach next to me and turn off the lamp. I don’t know how long we lay there in the moonlight of the room until we fall asleep—knees touching, holding hands, and together—but together is all that matters.
