My phone buzzed with a text, startling me, and I nearly dropped it as I fumbled to get it out of my pocket. Jesus Christ, it was like I was a teenager again, making a complete idiot of myself over my feelings for this girl.
Ah, crap! Gray. Of course, he would call me though I’d forgotten about him in the whole wedding mess, and then Laura’s appearance. He was going to chew me out for being a crappy best friend and rightfully so.
Grayson, or Gray, as he preferred to be called, was only a year younger than I was, but we’d ended up being best friends in college and had become roommates. His father was a wealthy Hollywood producer, and his mom was an actress too. We’d bonded over the commonality and other things. While I wanted to have a career—just not the one that my father had picked out for me—Gray was content to live off of his trust fund and follow his whims. He took on acting and modeling gigs just for kicks, but got bored easily.
However, one of the few things he committed to ever was our weekly dinners. He was probably texting about that, but I’d completely forgotten to tell him that I was out of town.
Hey bro can’t meet for brew n’ chew not in DC.
Well, that was convenient. “Brew and chew” was what Gray liked to call our dinners. It was an example of the kind of person that he was. He’d been the party boy in college, while I had been the one keeping him from dropping out due to low grades or missed assignments. Whenever he’d asked me about my lack of interest in partying and getting laid, I’d always found some excuse or the other. How could I explain to him that I was in love with someone I couldn’t have, and that no one else could ever compare to her? If I tried to hook up with someone, I would be thinking about Laura the whole time. Instead, I’d made it seem like I didn’t want to do anything that would ruin my father’s reputation. After all, Dad was paranoid and had warned me about that kind of thing all the time.
I responded to Gray and let him know that I wasn’t in D.C. either.
Where???
I rolled my eyes and told Gray that I was back in Michigan.
Gray sent me a chain of emojis, of which I could understand only a handful, and then replied that he was in Detroit too. So, we could get together for brews and chews after all.
Next week, I texted. I have dinner with mom tonight.
As if my text had summoned her, I heard the front door of the lake house open.
Great. She’s here.
I saw Gray’s thumbs up emoji in response before I tucked my phone away and walked over to see what Mom was up to.
She had multiple shopping bags on both arms, her blonde hair swept up without a single strand out of place, and dressed in the latest designer wear. Her assistant was with her, a woman who completely idolized the great Melinda James. All her assistants started this way—they were young and thought Melinda James was amazing. Eventually, they
learned the truth and got sick of the long, hard hours, the constant pressure and Mom’s mood swings. Then, they would quit.
For now, Mom’s latest assistant was smiling and nodding along, taking the shopping bags from her hands.
Mom collapsed at the table and smiled at me. “It’s been such an exhausting day, honey—arrange those things in the closet, please, darling!” she shouted to her assistant.
She called all her assistants ‘darling’. It made them feel special at first, that she had given them a pet name, but the truth was that she couldn’t be bothered to remember their names.
“Anyway.” Mom smiled at me. “How was your day? I had such a lovely time.”
“I’m glad you had a good day,” I replied, walking over to kiss her cheek before sitting down across from her at the table. “I managed to get some work done remotely.”
“Well, surely you have more to say than that!” Mom laughed. “I have so many ideas about the wedding, I can’t wait to share them all with you. I was thinking, perhaps, we could really embrace the autumn theme….”
I let her prattle on, ignoring her. I’d already told Laura some of my ideas and I would let her work on those themes. By the time Mom would get her claws into the planning, it would be too late to change anything.
Mom paused talking to give me a look.
“Cade, you don’t seem excited.” She took my hand and squeezed it. “Is something wrong?”
So many things were wrong, but I couldn’t tell her that. “I’m being married off to a woman I don’t love,” I pointed out, yet again.
Mom frowned. “This isn’t like that. Della’s a sweet and beautiful woman, and you two get along well. And she’ll be able to help with your campaign when you run for office in two years, don’t forget that.”
She squeezed my hand again and let go, clapping her together. “And, of course, there’s your father’s re-election bid! We can’t possibly forget that. Della’s father is one of the most politically active people in the state and he brings quite a lot of clout with him, you know that.”
“Of course, I know that, Mom,” I replied. “I know all the reasons why you and Dad want me to marry her. But I’m not in love with her. Weren’t you in love with Dad when you married him?”
“Well of course, I was. That’s why we got married.”