“So
the next step is my family,” Emma said. “And I’ve got to find some way of
telling them about this that won’t involve loud sobbing, recriminations,
criminal checks, or talk of calling in Uncle Louie to have a talk with you.”
“Uncle
Louie?”
“Yeah.
He’s a car salesman who lives outside of Chicago. My family jokes that he’s
connected to the mob.”
“Please
tell me...”
“No
worries. The only mob he’s connected to is the flash mob that occasionally
dances in the local shopping mall to old Madonna songs.”
There
was silence for a moment as Mason took all of this in.
“You’re
wondering what you married into.”
“I
am, rather.”
Emma
laughed. “Well, it’s the same family as Jen, so you would have needed to deal
with all of us regardless. So what about your family? Will I meet them at some
point?”
Mason
sobered. “Yes. I’ll try to ensure that it is for short periods of time, and
with others around. My mother won’t be easy on you, Emma.”
“I
gathered that from what Jen said. They’re just looking out for you, Mason.”
He
looked over at her and raised his eyebrows. “Maybe. But we’ll deal with that
when we need to.” He glanced at his watch. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“It’s getting late, and I know you have an early flight.”
“I
do. And I am. Thank you for dinner, Mason. It was delicious, and it was nice
getting to know a little about you.” Pushing back away from the table, she
picked up her purse from the chair next to her, and stood up.
“I’m
glad you could join me,” he replied politely. Standing next to her, he placed
his hand gently on her back, guiding her toward the door. When they exited to
the street, he asked her where she had parked. When she pointed to the garage,
he offered to walk her to her vehicle.
“That’s
not really necessary, Mason. I appreciate it, though.”
“I
insist.”
They
strolled through the garage until they were standing in front of her car. She
unlocked the doors with her key fob, then tossed her purse onto the passenger
seat, locking the passenger side door as she closed it. Walking over to the
driver's side, she was surprised to find that Mason was holding the door open
for her.
“You're
a gentleman,” she observed. “Thank you.”
“You’re
welcome,” he said as he watched her settle herself behind the wheel. “Have a
safe trip. I’ll call you on Thursday night and we can finalize our plans for
the weekend.”
Closing
the door for her, he stood and watched as she carefully backed out of her
parking spot, and headed for the exit. When Emma looked in her rearview mirror
as she turned right out of the garage, Mason was still standing where she’d
left him.
At
home, Emma quickly changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, then took Chaos
out for a quick walk around the block. Grabbing his ‘suitcase’ of dog food,
treats, and his favorite toys, she loaded the dog into the back of her vehicle
and headed for her parents’ home. When she got there, all the lights were on
downstairs, and she could hear loud conversation through the door. She knocked
sharply to let them know that she was there, then turned the knob to let
herself in.
“Hi
Mom, Hi Dad!” she called as she bent down to let Chaos off his leash. He
immediately disappeared into the kitchen, knowing the best places in the house
to scrounge for food. As Chaos headed into the kitchen, Emma’s mother appeared
from the other side of the hall.
“Hi
honey,” she said with a smile. “Have you eaten?”
Emma
laughed. Her mom was always trying to feed her. “Yup. And I’m stuffed, so don’t
be pawning off any leftovers on me. I’m leaving first thing in the morning. And
oh crap. I left Chaos’ bone at the restaurant,” she remembered. “Poor doggy...”
Her
mother didn’t seem to hear her ramblings. “Your father is in the kitchen,
mixing up some strange concoction in the blender.”
Emma
looked at her suspiciously. “Strange concoction like a health food mix, or
strange like a new mixed drink?”
Your
grandmother is here.”
“Ah.
Enough said. I’ll go say hello.”
“What
are you doing here on a Friday night?” Emma’s grandmother asked her when she
walked into the kitchen in search of her dog and her father.
“I
can’t come over and visit my loving family?” she grinned as she leaned down to
kiss her grandmother’s cheek. Straightening up, she located Chaos, his snout
buried deeply under the counter where crumbs of food were apparently lodged.
“You
should be out on a date,” Gran Jameson offered. “You’re young. How are you
going to find a husband if you spend every Friday with your dog and your
father? Your good looks won’t last forever, you know,” she added, waving her
martini in the air.
“My
sparkling personality will continue to win me attention, Gran,” Emma assured
her. “Look out! Chaos is going after something under your feet.” The dog, on
the scent of some crumb dropped centuries earlier, was nearly lifting Gran off
her feet in an attempt to claim it as his own. Gran just sighed, sat down on
one of the stools in the kitchen, and lifted her feet. It was impressive,
really, since not a drop of martini spilled over the side.
“Hi
Daddy,” Emma grinned. “Thanks for watching the dog. Again.”
“Oh,
no problem. Gets me out of the house and getting some exercise. Besides, he
cleans the floor.”
“What
are you making?” Emma asked, settling herself down next to Gran.
“A
lemon drop martini. Ask your grandmother,” he added when Emma just looked at
him questioningly.
“I
read about it in a magazine,” Gran stated. “It sounded delicious and
sophisticated, so I asked your father to make it for me.”
“Well,
I’m in favor. Can I taste-test?” she asked, reaching for a glass. Too late, she
realized that she hadn’t moved her ring back over to her right hand. And
eagle-eyed Gran was looking right at it.
“Emma?”
“Yes,
Granny?”
“Don’t
call me Granny. You know I hate it. And don’t try to distract me. Is that a
ring on your finger?”
Emma
sighed. “Why yes, Grandmother. It is.”
“Don’t
‘Grandmother’ me either. Why is there a ring on your finger?”
“Because
you’re always hounding me to put one there?”
“Do
not tease your Gran,” she rebutted. “I’m too old and I may drop dead at any
moment. Tell me why you have a ring. Have you met a gentleman?”
Looking
over at her father, she realized that he was also staring at the ring. And for
the love of God, so was her mother. All three of them, silent as clams, just
staring at her finger.
“Mom.
Dad. Dearly beloved Gran... I’m afraid that I’ve got some news.”
Silence.
“Oh
for God’s sake. I’m married. There. It’s out. He’s a nice young man, we’ll be
very happy together, etc. etc. etc.”
To
Emma’s surprise, all three of them burst out laughing.
“Ha!”
her father said with delight. “Nice try, Em. Next time, leave your dog home
with your ‘husband’ - it will be more realistic.”
“Oh
Em. Don’t let your Grandmother make you too crazy about marriage. It will come.
And she only hounds you because she loves you, you know,” her mom added.
Only
her grandmother looked partially skeptical. “Let me see the ring,” she
demanded. When Emma raised her hand in front of her face, the confusion cleared
up. “Oh that’s just a band. Not even a diamond. Next time, at least get a cubic
zirconia ring. It will look more real.”
Emma
just looked at her family members in disbelief. She had managed to get the news
out in a backhanded way, and nobody believed her. This was just... well...
Oh
hell
, she thought. Now what? Did she sit here, the night before her flight
to California, arguing her parents into believing that she’d married a man they
had never met? Or did she go home, pack, get herself on a plane in the morning,
and deal with this when she got back?
“Well,
thanks for watching Chaos! I’d better get going. Lots of packing to do,” she
said, a little too brightly. “See you next weekend!”
Out
the door in two minutes flat, after a quick kiss to each of her beloved family
members and a scritch to Chaos (along with an admonition to be very good), she
was back in her car, breathing heavily and nearly sobbing. Not sure if it was
with relief or frustration, Emma turned her car toward home. What a day, she
thought. What a long and absolutely insane day. She was feeling deep relief
that she was hopping on a plane in the morning. She would deal with Mom and Dad
and Gran Jameson soon enough.
San
Diego was warm. It was sunny. It was one of the easiest trips that Emma had
made in a while, since most of what she needed to do was pro forma. She ate
good food, enjoyed some good company, and almost managed to forget that she had
gotten married in a whirlwind ceremony the day before. Almost. The ring on her
finger reminded her. She had moved it to her right hand again, but every glance
at it caused her thoughts to head straight back east to Mason Parker, his huge
mansion, and her family’s likely reaction to the news. By the time Wednesday
rolled around, Emma was toying with the idea of missing her flight and staying
in California for a while, but she missed Chaos. And she knew that her dog
would be about twenty pounds overweight by the end of the week if she stayed
away longer. Her father was notoriously bad about slipping Chaos table scraps,
and Gran just consistently dropped stuff when she was over visiting her son and
daughter-in-law.
Sighing,
she boarded the plane and settled into her seat, thanking God and all his
angels for an aisle seat close to the front of the aircraft. She had intended
on working for most of the flight home, but between the busy week and her own
exhausted emotional state she actually managed to sleep for a couple of hours.
When she woke up, she reached for the newspaper that she'd picked up at an
airport kiosk in hopes of catching up on the news.
Ah,
world news. Depressing. Local news. Depressing and not really pertinent to her.
By the time she'd made it through the front section, Emma was looking forward
to the lighter inserts. Book reviews. Entertainment. Anything but politics,
disasters, and killing in the name of religion. An article on indoor dog parks
caught her attention, and she briefly wondered how Chaos would do in that kind
of situation. He would be suspiciously wondering where the squirrels were
hanging out, and not pleased if he didn’t smell anything to chase.
Flipping
the page, she glanced at the headlines. She was just about to turn the page
again when something in the middle of a column caught her eye. FINANCIAL MOGUL
MARRIES. And a photo of Mason followed. And oh, dear God, there was her name.
Oh no. Oh no. Closing her eyes tightly, she willed the story to disappear, but
when she opened them again, the story was still there. Oh no. OK, at least
there was no photo of her, she thought. So the chances of anyone back home
actually reading about this were slim. Unless, of course, their local paper
devoted more space to the story. Emma forced herself to breathe deeply, not
wanting to upset her seat mate into thinking that she was having a heart
attack, but also not wanting to actually
have
a heart attack.
OK,
she thought. Mom and Dad won’t see this. Gran might. People at work definitely
would. So she needed a plan. First, she needed to read the rest of the article
to see how bad this was. She grabbed her plastic cup of ginger ale, took a
healthy swallow, then refocused on the story.
Not
as bad as it could be, she thought when she finished. Her name was in there. So
was her occupation, but just ‘lawyer.’ Most of the article was dedicated to her
new husband - his business acumen, his charitable contributions, his family
background. And a whole paragraph on his dating history - now
there
was
some interesting reading! Wow. He’d dated a whole slew of women, Emma thought.
And none of them, not one, was anything close to who she was. Wow. A
supermodel. A Hollywood actress. Several society women. The daughter of a
famous politician. Geez.
Emma
folded the paper and leaned back in her seat. Not that she needed a reminder of
how unsuited the two of them were, but this was a clear indication that she was
a business decision, not a decision of the heart. Or anything lower, Emma
thought with amusement. Compared to the perfect tens that these other women
were, particularly when they were all glammed up, Emma figured she was about a
six. Slightly above average in the looks department, but nothing like these
other women. It was a wonder that Mason was willing to be associated with her
in public. And she wondered again why he was.
Yeah,
business. She got that. But there were other gorgeous women out there he could
have married. Immediate need, and discretion. OK, she got that too. But again,
not insurmountable. Maybe Mason saw her as tractable and moldable - someone who
would never raise a stink down the road when they quietly ended their marriage.
Someone who recognized from the start how truly incompatible they were.