by CL Rowell
I stuck close to the truth. I said we just got engaged tonight. Before I could form a reply to that he texted again. I told her we had planned to announce it tomorrow, but the surprise was ruined.
You are brazen. I’d have drawn a blank. Froze up.
Well, she made it easy. She kind of led me along.
That’s good. So, we’re off the hook?
Oh, no, not even. We’re coming to dinner tomorrow night.
But she knows. I glared at the screen.
She’s going to act surprised—and she’s not telling Dad or Grandpa.
What time? At that moment I felt I knew how a death row prisoner felt the night before his execution—a sense of resigned dread mixed with terror of the unknown.
Six-thirty for aperitifs.
For what?
Aperitifs—it’s an alcoholic drink that stimulates the appetite.
Why does our appetite need stimulated?
Knowing Mom, she’s planning a multi course dinner in celebration.
What happened to acting surprised?
You know my mother—she sucks at acting. She’ll play it off though. Watch.
If I have to.
See you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.
Ha! More like nightmares—and that was if I got any sleep at all. I didn’t get much, but I didn’t expect to. I tossed and turned for hours, maybe falling to sleep a couple hours before I had to get up. Luckily, our instructors went easy on us even for a Friday—perhaps because the Thanksgiving Day holiday was coming up. After the weekend ahead, we only had two more days before we were off for five whole days.
Faster than I wanted, my Friday was done, and the weekend was upon me. I rummaged through my closet and came to the conclusion that I didn’t have anything appropriate to wear and it was rapidly approaching four o’clock. I rushed out the door, headed for Uptown Cheapskate in Bossier. I flew through the racks, becoming more and more desperate, until I saw it—the perfect dress. It was pink and white with a sweetheart neckline and a hem that would hit me about mid-calf. But I’d seen it at the same time a cute brunette around my size spotted it, too. It was a race to see who’d get to it first and I barely won.
“I saw it first,” she demanded, “so hand it over.”
“I don’t think so. You snooze, you lose. If I let you try this on, you’ll rip a seam trying to get it zipped and it’ll be ruined.”
“Will not!”
“Will, too.”
“Will not!”
“What size are you?” I demanded, noticing a paunch I didn’t see at first glance and feeling confident that she was bigger than me.
“Size fourteen.”
I checked the tag. “Ha! Size twelve—my size. It’s too small for you, just like I said.”
“Twelve?” She looked me up and down, “If you can squeeze into a twelve, I’m a Kardashian.”
“What are you—the poor trailer trash distant relative they don’t acknowledge?” I smiled. “I’ll prove it I can fit it.”
“Then prove it. I’ll wait.”
I held my breath in the dressing room as I stripped down and took it from the hanger. It had to fit. I was out of time and had seen nothing else that would work. I eased it over my head and sucked in as I eased the side zipper up—it fit! Yes!
“I’m waiting.”
I pranced out, smirking for all I was worth. “I told you it would fit.”
“Yeah, well it’ll fit me, too.”
“Not with that belly, it won’t.” I pointed at her midsection.
“You little bitch.” The slap came out of nowhere and set my ear to ringing as my cheek burned like it was on fire. “If I can’t have it, I’ll rip it off of your uppity ass and you won’t have it, either.”
“Hey, hey—none of that.” A saleslady grabbed her arm. “You’ll have to leave before I’m forced to call the police. Go on…out the door with you.” She came back alone and glanced at me, “Did you want to buy that?”
“I do. Can I wear it out the door? I have something to go to and I’m short on time.”
“Sure. Let me get the tag. Do you need shoes, too?”
I looked at my black leather ankle boots. “Eh, these’ll work.”
“They are cute. Where did you get them?”
“Ross’s.”
“Seriously? I’m jelly.” We shared a smile. “You’re gonna be the belle of the ball. If you don’t mind me asking, where are you heading?”
I felt my cheeks heat up. Well, I felt my other cheek heat up, anyway—the one she slapped still stung. “I’m going to dinner with my fiancé so we can tell his parents the news.”
“Oh, congratulations!” she gasped. “That’s wonderful. Can I see your ring?”
I held my hand up and wiggled my fingers. “It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.”
“It is gorgeous. How did he ask? What was your reaction?”
I stuck close to the truth, “We were in the pool house behind his fraternity. We were drinking rum and coconut water on the couch and it just happened.”
“Oooh, how romantic. What was your reaction?”
“I, umm, I fainted.”
“Hell, I probably would have, too. That ring is amazing. Becky, come check out her ring. It’s effing amazing!”
Becky glanced over, then up at me. “You’re the one that’s marrying Geoff Blanxart, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“I really want to hate you, but it isn’t like I stood a chance with him anyway.” She grinned, “Congrats, it’s a gorgeous ring. He must really love you.”
I paid for my dress with a forced smile, took the bag with the clothes I wore to school stuffed inside, and exited the store. After I climbed in my car and prepared to leave Geoff texted me.
Are you ready for tonight?
As ready as I’ll ever be. Becky’s words echoed in my memory and I sighed, wishing it was true—wishing he loved me.
Meet me out in front of your building?
How about the parking lot where I park my car?
Oookaaay, why? Where are you?
I had nothing to wear so I went shopping.
How far out are you?
Twenty minutes, give or take, depending on traffic.
Wow—we’ll be cutting it close, but they’ll wait.
I’ll hurry.
No, you won’t. Drive safely and I’ll give Mom a heads up.
Chapter Nine
Geoff
∞∞∞
I couldn’t wait to see her but when she climbed out of her little Fiesta two things caught my eye. First, I saw the pretty pink and white dress she was wearing. It looked fantastic on her, emphasizing her breasts and the way her hips curved, full and enticing. But then—
“What the fuck happened to your face? Who hit you?”
She rubbed her cheek where a faint pink handprint lingered, a rueful grin flirting across her full lips. “I got into a minor scrap with a girl at the store.”
“Over what?”
“This dress.”
“Over a dress?” I tilted my head.
“It was the only one I liked that was in my size—besides, I won the race fair and square. It wasn’t my fault I was faster.”
“She slapped you because you were faster out of the gate?”
“Not…exactly. I may have unintentionally called her too fat to wear it.”
I fought a hard battle, trying not to laugh out loud. “Well, was she?”
“Yeah, actually she was.”
“I hope you whooped her ass, then.”
She made a sour face and shook her head. “No, the salesgirl booted her out before I could react.”
“Good for her.” I pressed my lips to her wounded cheek. “Does it hurt? Do you want to postpone the dinner until tomorrow night instead?”
“No,” she snuggled in and gave me a quick squeeze before pulling away, “we can go. I’m fine.”
I opened the passenger door on my Mustang, and she slid in. Her face looked
even paler in the brilliant interior lighting with the pink print standing out in contrast to her porcelain complexion. My heart stuttered inside my chest as my protective instincts triggered. I resolved to protect her from my father’s potential wrath if necessary. There was no way he could know that I overheard his conversation with Grandpa, and I knew he wouldn’t be thrilled at the recent turn of events. If things got volatile, I promised myself, I would shield her.
The flowery fragrance of her signature perfume filled the car with a soft, delightful sweetness. It tempted me to bury my nose in the hollow where her neck and shoulder joined and breathe deeply of her essence as soon as I climbed in and closed the door. Not wanting her to bail and avoid me, I resisted the compulsion. Instead, I started the car and cracked the window. I was hoping the fresh cold air would help but the breeze just made the sensual scent stronger.
After a torturous fifteen-minute drive we pulled into the horseshoe shaped driveway in front of my parents’ grey and cream two-story colonial-style home. I parked closer to the front door so she wouldn’t have to walk far.
“We’re here,” I announced, suddenly strung tight at the thought of what we were fixing to do. “It occurred to me after last night, we’re going to have to act like we’re in love or they won’t buy it.”
She smiled softly, calming me simply by looking at me. “I know. We’ll be fine—we’ll do fine. Now, come around and open my door in case they’re watching.”
I hurried around and took her hand, helping her out of the low-slung sports car like a perfect gentleman. We made it two steps after I closed the door behind her.
“There you are!” my mother exclaimed, then leaned back inside and called, “Frank, they’re here. Come say hi.”
We navigated the two wide semicircular concrete steps up to the front porch and crossed to the screen door she thoughtfully held open. Juliet leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek.
“Hello, Mrs. Blanxart—it’s so good to see you again.”
“None of that Mrs. Blanxart stuff,” Mom scolded. “You called me Mom in high school. Have I been demoted?”
“No, ma’am—I mean, Mom.” Her cheeks filled with color.
I sniffed the air, “Something smells delicious.”
“It’s your favorite—spaghetti and meatballs with garlic biscuits, and for dessert…bread pudding!”
“Topped with rum sauce?” My stomach rumbled.
“You know it! Come in, come in…your father is pouring the aperitifs as we speak, and dinner is almost ready.”
“Did Grandpa make it?”
“I did!” he shouted from a recliner across the room. “I would have come to the door, but bossy told me to sit still.”
Mom flapped her hands, flustered, “You aren’t getting any younger, Daddy. Why should you have to get up when they were coming inside anyway?”
“You did.”
I guided Juliet across the room to a tan leather loveseat, squeezing her fingers as her eyes grew bigger and bigger. After she took a seat, I sat down beside her.
“How else were they going to get in?”
“And here I thought that was why you hired a housekeeper. What was I thinking?”
She scowled at him. “Daddy, he’s my son. Of course, I’m going to open the door to greet him.”
“Well, he’s my grandson, too. I think I should be afforded the same privileges.”
“Do you want me to make them go back outside so you can get up and greet them?” I could tell she was getting exasperated from the florid tint of her face and prayed he wouldn’t escalate it.
“Too late, now—why put them out? The deed’s been done. I’ve moved past it.” Uh huh. I bit my lip and swallowed an inopportune snicker.
“Aperitif?” My father tromped into the middle of the war zone. “Jon? Vera? Perhaps you two would prefer something stronger?”
“Don’t be an ass, Frank. Just pass out the drinks,” Mom scolded, taking one and waving him on. “The food will be ready, and we’ll still be sipping on these.”
“It’ll wait.” He lowered the tray so that Juliet and I could take our glasses, “Sherry?”
“Uhh,” she blinked, confusion in her pretty sea-colored eyes.
“You’ll like it,” I hissed, taking one. “Sherry’s not bad.”
“Oohhh,” understanding filled her eyes and she followed my lead. “I’ve never tried it before.”
It dawned on me what had happened. I lowered my voice to a breathy whisper and leaned closer, unable to resist teasing her. “You thought he forgot your name, didn’t you?”
“Hush!” She pinked up again, “It was a natural mistake. I thought sherry was just something you cooked with.”
“Alright, you two…drink up. The first course is ready.”
As I watched, she tasted it, made a horrible face, plugged her nose and downed it with a shiver.
“Didn’t like it?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “I’m glad there was just a couple swallows in the glass.”
I followed suit, downing mine, too. I placed my glass back on the tray and stood, offering her a hand up. Once she was standing, I did the same for my grandfather.
“Thanks,” his voice was gruff, but I could tell he appreciated the gesture.
I motioned for him to precede us and followed him into the formal dining room.
Chapter Ten
Juliet
∞∞∞
My family isn’t poor by any means. We’re firmly upper-middle class—but Geoff’s family…they’re rich. That was the first time in our friendship that I’d seen the formal dining room set for a meal and it brought home to me exactly how rich they are. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw all the dishes and utensils at each setting on that snow-white-cloth topped table. I felt so out of place, like a country bumpkin visiting her city cousins. I just knew I was going to make a fool of myself and embarrass him. I blinked fast, attempting to dissipate a sheen of moisture before it coalesced into actual teardrops and trickled down my cheeks.
Seeing my distress, he leaned in, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know what half of this stuff is for. You’ve been to dinner at my house. Mom dishes the food out onto the plates, pours the drinks, and we have one or two utensils, depending on the dish she served. I’m so out of place, I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. I’m going to be right there beside you. All you have to do is watch me and do what I do.”
My heart calmed, the panic settled a bit and I nodded. Just watch him and do what he did? I could do that. He held my chair for me and sat beside me. The first course came out. Soup. My heart dropped. I am not a neat soup eater, so I knew what was going to happen. Bye-bye pretty white and pink dress. It was nice knowing you.
As if sensing my trepidation, Geoff’s grandfather leaned across the table. “Better tuck your napkin in like mine so you don’t get messy. These spoons are tricky. I haven’t found it yet but I’m almost positive they have hidden holes in the bottoms.” He winked at me, smoothing his napkin down over his dress shirt.
“What a wonderful idea. Thank you!” Feeling a flood of relief, I grinned at him and followed suit. Geoff did, too.
I glanced over as Geoff picked up a spoon, and I quickly mirrored him. He dipped it into the fragrant soup and brought it to his lips, and I did the same, pleased to discover it was hot but not too hot to consume. The mingled flavor of broccoli and cheese teased my taste buds. I tasted a substantial hint of garlic and recognized the mouthfeel of a heavy cream base. It was delicious though and I nearly moaned my delight aloud.
After the soup bowls were taken away, the next course—of course—was shrimp cocktail. I had never tried one and had no clue how to tastefully eat it. Smiling at me, Geoff picked up a piece of shrimp tail by the little fan left on the end, dipped it in the sauce, and took a careful bite. Again, I mirrored him. Then, my jaw nearly hit the table, seconds later, when he double dipped and took another bite.
�
�It’s mine,” he hissed. “I say I can double-dip.”
“Well, if you can, I can.” I dipped my partially consumed tail back into the sauce and polished it off, feeling silly and lighthearted.
After the shrimp, we had salad topped with blue cheese dressing. I loathe blue cheese and no amount of pressure to show good manners could make me eat it. Instead, I picked around it, eating tomato slices and cucumber chunks that hadn’t been contaminated by the awful stuff.
“Is something wrong with your salad, dear?” Crap.
I turned my head to the right to answer his mother’s question. “No, ma’am…I just don’t care for blue cheese.”
“Oh. Would you prefer another bowl with a different dressing?”
“No, ma’am, I’m fine.” I reached for my glass and took a sip. As I did, I saw a fiery sparkle from that finger and realized my ring had worked its way back around so that the diamond was no longer facing my palm. I froze.
“What’s that on your finger?” My heart sank. His grandfather had spotted the ring, too.
“Umm…” I turned to look at Geoff. He pushed his chair back and stood up. What was he doing? And then I knew. Double crap.
He tapped his glass with a spoon, making it chime. Once everyone was quiet, he placed the spoon back on the tablecloth and said, “Mom, Dad, Grandpa…Juliet and I have an announcement to make.” Then he held out his hand to me. I removed my napkin bib, took his hand, and rose on shaky knees to stand beside him. He met each of their eyes in turn. “Yesterday, I asked Juliet Palomas to do me the honor of becoming my bride, and she said yes.”
“I’ll be damned,” his grandfather grinned. “Congratulations, you two. This is wonderful news, isn’t it, Frank?”
“Uhh…yeah.” But he was pale beneath his tan.
“Oh, this is the best news ever!” his mother squealed, leaping to her feet. “I always hoped you two would couple up and now you are—have you set a date?”
“Mom, we just got engaged. Let us take some time to enjoy the process. There’s no rush.”
“Well, okay,” her face fell a little. “Your grandpa isn’t getting any younger, though. I’m sure he’d like to see his great-grandchildren before he goes to join your grandma on the other side of the veil.”
