by Charish Reid
“When did you get these?” her mother demanded, running her fingers through the curtain of Victoria’s braids. “And why are there so many...baubles on them?”
Victoria tucked her hair over her other shoulder, away from her mother’s prying fingers. “I got them a couple of weeks ago. Reggi did them.”
“Regina?” Katherine said with suspicion. “Are you still running with those girls?”
Victoria drew a breath and looked to her father for help. Archie patted her shoulder and gave a shrug before making his escape into the kitchen. Once again, he sniffed out an incoming disagreement between his daughter and wife, and made himself scarce before he was asked for an opinion. Part of her didn’t blame him for fading into the background, while the other part of her resented him for not taking her with him. “Yes, ma’am. We’re all still friends.”
Katherine narrowed her cat eyes. “Even Paula? The one who writes that filth?” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Ooh chile, that girl has even infiltrated my circles. Betty Anne actually had the nerve to suggest one of her trashy books for our reading circle. Can you imagine?”
Victoria didn’t know who Betty Anne was, but she was grateful the woman had taste and was honest about it. She couldn’t wait to tell Paula. “No, I cannot imagine,” she said with irony. “How Betty Anne thought she could sneak something past you is beyond me.”
“Where’s your dress?” Katherine said snapping her fingers. “I need to see it.”
“Can I at least sit down and have a drink, Mother?” Victoria only just arrived and now she was being put through her paces. Her mother was more drill instructor than her father ever was. Three hours before the event and Katherine was already in giant hard curlers that pulled her face and scalp tight. In her sixties Katherine Reese was still a beautiful woman with skin the color of burnt honey, full lips that were always painted a respectable mauve, and carefully shaded eyebrows that always appeared accusatory. Victoria stared into the face of her future and felt exhausted already. She didn’t know how Katherine had the energy for any of it.
“The dress.”
Victoria heaved a teenage sigh and went through her bag for her dress. It was a simple black satin shift with spaghetti straps, that reached her ankles. She had planned to wear her braids in a bun. Simple, black, and easy.
Katherine took one look at it and shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
Of course not.
Victoria draped the garment over both her arms and extended it towards her mother. “What on earth is wrong with it?”
“It’s too formfitting, Victoria. It’s basically a nightgown.” She clucked her tongue in disappointment. “What did I say about looking fast?”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “This is not fast.”
“And that is exactly why I told you to arrive a couple hours before the ball. I can’t have you sashaying in the room giving away the milk when the lawyer wants to buy the cow.”
Victoria bit the inside of her cheek as her face warmed. As old as she was, she should have expected this from her mother. “It’s the only dress I brought,” she said, forcing a calm tone. Hysterics could not be employed right now, she had to speak to her mother like an adult and not the angry teenager she used to be.
“Not to worry,” Katherine said with a beaming smile. “I’ve got something upstairs that will look perfect on you.” She moved towards the stairway and stopped. “You’re still a size 12, right? It’s hard to tell with that ghastly sweatshirt you’re wearing.”
Victoria stuffed the dress back in her weekend bag and joined her father in the kitchen. “Yes, ma’am,” she called over her shoulder.
Archie Reese leaned against the kitchen counter waiting on her with a whiskey in hand. “Drink?” he asked.
“Please.” She took it and emptied the glass in one gulp. The liquor stung her throat on its way to her belly.
“She doesn’t mean to get at you like that,” her father said in a soft voice. “She just worries, is all.”
Victoria shot him a sideways glance. “She’s been getting at me over this and that since I was a kid. That’s a long time to be worried and a long time for me to feel hounded.”
Archie held out the bottle of Dewers. “Another?”
“You know she’ll get angry if we’re tipsy before the reception,” Victoria said, holding her glass under her father’s liberal pour.
“You’re pretty good at hiding things, honey,” her father said with a wink. “I think you can manage this one secret too.”
She sipped the second one with a little more decorum as she leaned against the counter beside her father. “I don’t know about that.”
“The hiding?”
“I’m getting worse at it lately.”
“Might not be such a bad thing,” Archie said taking swig. “Is that the reason we haven’t seen you since January?”
Victoria set down her glass and faced her father. “Dad, I’m in a pickle,” she blurted out.
Archie cocked his head to the side and peered at his daughter. He was still a handsome man in his sixties: deep sienna brown skin, sporting a salt and pepper mustache. He kept his hair in the same high and tight style from his military days. He also put his glass down and placed his meaty fists on his hips. “Are you pregnant?” he whispered.
Victoria rolled her eyes. “Oh god, not you too...”
“Oh okay, sorry.”
She would be in her forties and they’d still be concerned for her virtue. “Mom is trying to set me up with some lawyer and I need you to run interference. Make sure we’re not alone for too long, glower at him, remind him that you’re a Master Gunnery sharpshooter. Do the things that dads are supposed to do.”
Archie’s brow knitted at the center. “Is there a reason why I’m doing this?”
“Because you owe me,” she hissed in a low voice. “You seem to forget that you’re not supposed to be smoking, but I saw you light up outside when I was here in January. If Mom found out about the pack of cigarettes in the planter out back...”
“Okay, okay, I hear you,” he said, trying to quiet her. “I’ll terrorize the boy.”
Light footsteps descended from the staircase as an airy voice rang out, “You two aren’t getting drunk before we leave, are you?”
Archie and his daughter looked at each other with secretive grins before tossing back the remainder of their whiskeys. “No!” they called out in unison.
* * *
What better way to ensure a daughter meets a mother’s high standards? A mother must pick out a ball gown herself. Victoria hadn’t picked her own prom dress when she was in high school, so why should this event be any different? In her mother’s full-length mirror, she stood erect, because the bodice wouldn’t allow even a minor slouch. Victoria was convinced her mother had strapped and laced her into a medieval contraption. Katherine had tucked her breasts deep within the neckline several times before she’d been satisfied there was no trace of cleavage. Victoria just did her best to breathe through the pain of the tight bodice. Her only accessories were a pair of drop pearl earrings and a single strand of pearls at the base of her neck. And of course, she looked fantastic in the gown, the royal blue silk taffeta skirts swishing around her ankles. When her mother finally stepped behind her, gently lifting her chin and pushing her shoulders back, her eyes glittered with unshed tears.
“Oh darling, you look beautiful.” Katherine sniffed. “You look like one of those duchesses from the old times.”
Victoria caught her mother’s eye and smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I wish you allowed me to dress you more often,” Katherine said, quickly dabbing at her eyes. “Remember how much fun we used to have?”
Victoria paused before answering, remembering a different past that involved her mother shouting “Archie, she’s sweated out her curls!” Archie would sigh and t
ell them both to stop sweating the small stuff. “Yes,” she said, swallowing the truth.
By the time she sat in the grand ballroom of the Drake Hotel, sweating and unable to breathe, Victoria couldn’t wait to make an exit. If she planned it right, she could call for a car right after the ceremony and just before the reception. She glanced at her phone, for the eighth time, and willed someone to rescue her. Her friends had wished her good luck before leaving, but their involvement was minimal as no one wanted to deal with her mother.
She wished John were with her.
Victoria had tried, in vain, to push him out of her mind during her train ride to Chicago. As much as she wanted his company, it was too risky for those worlds to collide. A quick visit with her parents was all she wanted. In and out, no muss no fuss. Had she brought John, it would have been a mess. Victoria was certain of it. Katherine would have made a big deal over his long hair, his tattoos, and the fact that he didn’t make as much money as the lawyer. After all, her life was fine before she met him, she didn’t forget things and she made her deadlines. She didn’t have to depend on anyone to help her finish a task. She needed to return to an orderly existence where things made sense and she was in control. John was an obvious threat to that existence. Victoria should have known he was trouble when he’d first walked into her office.
So why did she stare longingly at her phone, expecting him to call?
She picked up the phone and began typing a message to him. And then she erased it. No, no, no, just stop. She set the phone back on the table and heaved a shallow sigh. Out of the corner of her eye, a flash of Katherine’s ruby-red skirts came gliding to her table. Her mother wore a bright smile, but her eyes were judgmental.
“Victoria, what are you doing just sitting there?”
“Breathing, ma’am.”
“Breathe on your feet and make the rounds with me,” Katherine said as she took her by the elbow. She led Victoria to the first clump of partygoers she could spot. Victoria managed to snag a glass of champagne from a passing waiter before being thrown into the group. “Colonel Sheldon, Theresa, you remember my daughter, Victoria. The professor?”
An older man in full evening dress uniform inclined his head at her and smiled beneath a sandy blonde mustache. “Of course we remember Dr. Reese,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve quarterdecked her on more than one occasion. Fastest pushups I ever saw from a ten-year-old girl.”
They all laughed, Katherine the loudest of them all. “Oh, Lionel. Do you realize how much work I had to do to undo all of the rough and tumble?”
They all laughed some more, while Victoria covertly finished her champagne. “Built up her arms didn’t it?” the Colonel said as he gripped Victoria’s biceps. “You couldn’t ask for more out of a Marine daughter.”
Victoria smiled sweetly at Colonel Sheldon. She’d been a fan of his since their family was stationed at Quantico. When Archie took her to base, Colonel Sheldon always had candy waiting for her. She just had to win foot races for it. “Thank you, sir.”
“How is teaching, sweetie?” his wife Theresa asked. She wore a simple black gown, not too different from what Victoria had picked out for herself. I bet she’s able to breathe.
“It’s going well, ma’am,” she said.
“Oh, that’s good to hear,” Theresa said with a genuine smile. “You’ve been at the private university, what is it called? Primrose?”
“Pembroke.”
“Yes, Pembroke, for how many years? Three or four?”
Victoria was surprised. “Yes, about four years.”
“Your mother tells us that you should be up for tenure soon?”
She nodded and glanced at her mother, who beamed at her. Sometimes her mother did listen to her. Victoria was surprised yet again. “Yes, that’s right.”
“We wish you luck, dear,” Lionel said with a rough clap on the back.
“Please excuse us,” Katherine said, taking her by the elbow again. “There’s someone I’d like Victoria to meet.”
Before she had time to say a proper goodbye to the colonel and his wife, she was being whisked away by her mother. Victoria spotted another waiter with a tray of champagne and swiped another flute. Quickly, she tossed that one back and set both glasses on a nearby table. Two champagnes, maybe three, on top of the two whiskeys from home, on an empty stomach... Victoria was playing it fast and loose tonight.
She was definitely light-headed as she was shoved into the next partygoer’s face. Gripping her mother’s arms, she stood upright and focused her gaze on a man who spoke softly to an older woman, perhaps his mother. “Linda, I’m so glad I found you,” Katherine said. “Victoria, this is Linda Cortez and her son, Matthew.”
So this was Matthew. The divorced lawyer.
“Victoria.” Linda extended her hand. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you. Your mother has told me so much.”
Victoria shook the woman’s hand and offered a tremulous smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Linda,” she said in a loud voice. It was safe to finally admit that she was on the wrong side of tipsy.
“And this is her son, Matthew,” her mother said, directing her attention to the tall man to her left. Matthew was quite handsome, with jet black hair cut like a European footballer and a glistening white smile. He wore a slim fitted black suit with two shirt buttons undone at the collar. She noticed a flash of a small gold cufflink at his wrist when he extended his hand towards her.
“Victoria,” he said in a low smooth voice.
She shook his hand without grace. Tight with three rough pumps. Victoria almost jostled the man’s arm right out of the socket. “Pleased to meet you,” she said.
Matthew, unbothered by her manic handshake, slowed her pumps and leaned over her hand to lightly kiss the back of her knuckles. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother exchange grins with Linda. The two women were prepared to leave at a moment’s notice, Victoria realized. And she would be left with a man who still kissed women’s hands.
“Katherine, could you introduce me to the guest of honor? I haven’t met him or his wife yet.”
“Of course,” her mother said, all too thrilled to continue the charade. “Let’s leave these two to get acquainted.” Before taking her leave, she pulled her daughter close and whispered, “No more champagne.”
Victoria couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face as her mother shot a departing glare. “Matthew, could you be a dear and get me a drink?”
“Sure,” he said, grabbing two glasses from another passing waiter. As he handed her the drink, Katherine’s eyes scolded her while Linda pulled her away.
“Thank you,” Victoria said between sips.
“So you’re a teacher?” he asked, peering over his glass at her.
The way his gazed roved down her body made her uncomfortably chilled. She gave an involuntary shudder and hugged her arms around her middle. “I am.”
“What grade?”
“College students,” Victoria said, finishing her last drink of the night. It would have to be her last; she was having a difficult time focusing her eyes on Matthew. The dim lights and smooth jazz were about to put her to sleep as she wove on her feet.
His mouth quirked into a feline smile. “That’s hot.”
Victoria frowned. “Is it?”
“Oh yeah,” he said with an appraising nod. “If you were my professor, I would have showed up to class every day.”
Gross.
“And what do you do, Matthew?” Victoria needed to steer the conversation anywhere else. She’d learned a long time ago, the best thing you could do at a party was make people talk about their occupations. Good or bad, everyone liked talking about their jobs. Matthew seemed like a man who liked to talk about himself in general.
“I’m in corporate law,” he said with a littl
e shrug. “It can get a little rough, but it has its perks. I’ve got a downtown loft on State Street. It’s still mine after the divorce.”
She nodded. “That’s nice.”
Matthew moved closer and whispered, “If you want, I could take you there when this is over.”
She shrank away from his proximity and forced a smile. “I have to get up early in the morning.”
He arched a perfectly threaded black brow and grinned. “I can have you back before curfew if you’d like.”
Gross.
“How gentlemanly of you,” she said with a fake laugh. Victoria searched the crowd for her father, who was supposed to rescue her from this creep, but he was nowhere to be found. “So have you had any interesting cases lately?”
“Well, I can’t get into it too much.” His smiled was dripping with a smug arrogance that made her miss John. What is John up to tonight? And where in the hell is Dad? “But you’re just a teacher, so I don’t think you’re gonna blab to the papers.”
“Mmh?” She was half listening.
“Some Podunk town, somewhere downstate, is suing one of my clients for negligence. I’m sure we’ll settle out of court. I don’t expect it to last longer than a few months. Besides, they can’t prove that my client’s medical device is giving them cancer.”
Victoria heard that part. “What?”
He shrugged. “There’s no causation that my client’s inaction caused them bodily harm...or cancer.”
Jesus Christ, who was this maniac Mom set me up with?
“Well, I guess that’s good for your client?” Victoria said, searching for the words to disguise her disgust.
“And good for my bottom line. I’m thinking about taking a trip with my bros to Bali after it’s over. Have you ever been to Bali in March?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been to Bali ever.”
“You gotta go right after the winter to score those off-season deals. I’ve been twice.”