The Daughter's Choice

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The Daughter's Choice Page 14

by S. D. Robertson


  I planned to have a serious chat with my father after I got home that evening. But ahead of that, I refused to let Dad’s absence ruin an otherwise amazing day. Lunch, including bubbly, was at a lovely tapas restaurant. Then Ryan and I bid farewell to the others and went ring shopping, since the one he’d presented to me in the moment was a piece of costume jewellery he’d borrowed from his mum.

  ‘Is that okay?’ he’d asked me after explaining this. ‘You wouldn’t rather I’d picked one in advance, would you? I could have done that, but I thought you’d prefer to choose something yourself. You have much better taste than me and you’ll be the one wearing it for the rest of your life, right?’

  ‘It’s perfect like this,’ I said, kissing my fiancé and future husband. ‘The whole day has been amazing. I couldn’t dream of a more special way to get engaged. Thank you for everything. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I don’t know how you arranged it all, but hats off. I’ll be telling this anecdote for years to come.’

  ‘I was getting worried when you didn’t want to leave that shoe shop,’ he said, chuckling. ‘I thought I might have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of there. And when the ice cream ruse miraculously worked, you still looked kind of mad at me. You’re welcome, anyway. A special day for a special person. You deserve the best, Rose.’

  Ryan wanted to spend more than he could afford on a ring, but I wasn’t having that. The flash mob must have cost him enough already.

  ‘I don’t need a showy ring,’ I told him before we entered the first jewellery store. ‘In fact, scratch that, I don’t want that kind of ring. I’m not into having a huge diamond or anything really bling. A thin band with a very small stone in it will be perfect. And I want traditional gold – not platinum or palladium or whatever’s fashionable.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Ryan looked perplexed. ‘I mean, it’s really nice of you to say that, but I want to do this properly. I don’t want people thinking I’m a skinflint.’

  ‘Who cares what people think? This ring is for me and you, no one else. And I’m not saying this to be nice or to save you a few bob – it’s what I want. I’ve no intention of wearing something I don’t like or feel comfortable in simply because it’s what society expects.’

  ‘What about your dad?’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Well, he’s not exactly my biggest fan, Rose. If he thinks I’ve got you a bargain basement engagement ring, how’s that going to help?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said, although a part of me secretly wondered if he might be right.

  Ryan held up his palms in surrender. ‘Whatever makes you happy. But don’t hold back if you see something you love that’s expensive. I’ve come prepared.’

  I didn’t ask what he meant by this, but already knowing the rough ins and outs of his finances, I suspected he’d had a word with his mum or dad and arranged the terms of a loan.

  Anyway, after touring the shops, I eventually found this lovely simple gold ring with a subtle diamond, which made me very happy. We ordered one in the perfect size, including an engraving of our two names on the inside.

  Later, following a saucy stop-off down a quiet country lane, which held fond memories from when we were together the first time, Ryan dropped me off at home. We agreed that he should come inside so we could make the formal announcement to Dad together.

  ‘I’m a bit nervous,’ Ryan admitted before we got out of the car.

  ‘Why? There’s no need to be. He already knows, anyway.’

  ‘Yeah, the thing is, I’m wondering if I messed up.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ I placed my hand on his cheek. ‘I told you already: today was perfect.’

  ‘Do you think I ought to have asked for his approval first, though? I mean, I invited him to the proposal and that, but maybe the reason he said no was because I hadn’t formally requested his permission.’

  ‘Are you joking? This is the twenty-first century, Ryan! Were you expecting a dowry? Also, I’m not a possession passing from one man to another, you know.’

  He scowled. ‘Of course you’re not. I don’t mean it that way. It’s just … people still do it, don’t they? Because it’s nice. A nod to tradition.’

  I let out a puff of air. ‘It wouldn’t even have occurred to me, if you hadn’t mentioned it.’

  ‘It did go through my mind right at the start, when I decided I was going to ask you, but if I’m totally honest, I was worried he might say no.’

  I took both of Ryan’s hands in mine and looked deep into his eyes. ‘It’s not for him to say yes or no. It’s my decision and I said an emphatic yes. I want to marry you, Ryan, so stop worrying and come inside.’

  To be fair to Dad, he made an effort to be magnanimous. He smiled and hugged me, congratulating us and shaking Ryan’s hand. He even offered to open a bottle of bubbly, but we declined. ‘That’s nice of you, Dad, but Ryan has to work tomorrow and I’m shattered.’

  ‘See, that wasn’t so bad.’ I kissed my fiancé farewell at the front door.

  ‘No, I guess not.’ Relief was written all over Ryan’s face. ‘Goodnight, darling. I love you.’

  ‘I love you too. Loads and loads. Thank you again for such a special day.’

  Having waved him off, I took a deep breath and went to probe Dad about his actual feelings regarding our engagement.

  CHAPTER 19

  ‘So, Dave, I’m fascinated to know why you were so incredibly busy today that you couldn’t find time to watch your only daughter get engaged.’ I deliberately used his first name to emphasise my irritation.

  Dad let out a low groan and reached for the whisky glass sitting on a coffee table at the side of his chair in the lounge. The fact he was already drinking this when we got home – certainly not something he did on a regular basis – spoke volumes. As did the silence that filled the room while he took a swig, seemingly choosing his eventual words carefully.

  I waited, eyeballing him from where I was perched on the sofa opposite, forcing myself not to say anything else until he’d replied.

  ‘We’re doing this now, are we?’ he said eventually.

  ‘Yes, absolutely. You should have been there. It really hurt me that you weren’t.’

  He rubbed his temples with one hand. ‘That, um, definitely wasn’t my intention, Rose. I’d never do anything to deliberately hurt you. I didn’t think there was a lot I could add to the situation. If anything, I thought there was a danger I might put a downer on things.’

  At least he wasn’t trying to pretend to me that he really had been too busy to come.

  ‘Why would my father being there have put a downer on things?’ I asked.

  ‘I think you know why.’

  Pressing my fingers into the spongy material of the sofa cushion, I took a couple of steady breaths before replying. ‘Why can’t you move on from what happened back then? It was two and a half years ago. If I can leave the past in the past, why can’t you? Ryan makes me happy. Honestly, the effort he went to today. I felt so special. If you had been there to witness it, perhaps you’d find it easier to see what I see in him; how much he’s grown and changed since … what you keep focusing on.’

  ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Rose,’ Dad said after a lengthy pause. ‘I ought to have been. I should have put my reservations aside.’

  ‘You have reservations about us getting married?’

  ‘You’re still so young. It seems needlessly soon. Why tie yourself down now when you have your whole life ahead of you; so many possibilities?’

  ‘Maybe that’s exactly what I want, Dad. Did you stop to consider that I might like to build a family of my own: a nice big one with lots of children. I’ve never had that. Now it’s within my grasp.’

  There was a deep sadness in his eyes when he next spoke. ‘I know you’ve found it hard sometimes, especially when you were younger, being an only child and having just one parent. It wasn’t something I planned. The reality of life, as I see it, is that
you can only control what goes on to a certain degree. There’s always a bigger picture unfolding around you, which is largely out of your hands and never afraid to surprise you. Some of what happens is caused by other people and their decisions. Some isn’t: it’s fate or chance, depending on your viewpoint. You have to respond as best you can. Try to make it work for you.’

  He paused to take a sip of his whisky. ‘Thanks for not laughing at that. I’m no philosopher, Rose. I know you could put it better and out-debate me, if you chose to. What I’m trying to say, in a roundabout kind of way, is that I’m sorry I didn’t give you the big family you’d have liked. I did the best I could with the hand I was dealt. When you were a baby, I used to imagine meeting another woman who could be the glue to fix our family unit. However, as time passed and the right person didn’t come along, I came to realise that we didn’t need fixing, because we had each other. If the perfect woman had shown up, I’d have been open to that. But why try to force the issue for the sake of it?’

  I was tempted to give Dad a hug at this point, although I held off, having not yet forgiven him for skipping Ryan’s proposal. I think what he wanted to say, but avoided specifying for fear of further offending me, was that I didn’t need to get married to Ryan this young in order to have a big family. He’d have preferred me to put my career first, for the time being, probably in the hope that I’d grow apart from Ryan and meet someone else.

  ‘Listen, Dad,’ I said. ‘You’ve nothing to apologise for when it comes to my upbringing. You managed amazingly in tough circumstances; I’ll always appreciate that, more than you know. And I wouldn’t have expected, or wanted, you to settle for a woman you didn’t really love for the sake of giving me a mother figure. That’s ridiculous. But we’re miles off the real issue here. Ryan is my fiancé now, whether you like it or not. One way or another, you need to come to terms with that. We’re getting married and, to be clear, I’d like that to happen sooner rather than later.’

  Dad nodded slowly, looking past me into the distance. ‘I’ll do my best, love. I was polite to him tonight, wasn’t I?’

  ‘I guess. You’d better be nice about the ring when I get it. It’s very simple, with a tiny diamond, but only because that’s what I want. Ryan was all for getting me something far grander, but I was having none of that.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s lovely, Rose,’ Dad said. ‘My reservations about Ryan have never been related to his means. The only thing I care about is that he loves and cherishes my only daughter.’

  ‘So you’re not mad at him for not asking you in advance for my hand?’

  Dad scratched his head. ‘What? Is that even a thing these days? When or who you get married to is your decision, not mine. Was he really considering doing that? Thank goodness he didn’t. It would have been excruciating.’

  We spoke for a while longer and did eventually end up having a hug. I’m glad we had that conversation. It was needed to clear the air and, afterwards, things did improve between Ryan and Dad, gradually reaching the plateaued point where they remain now: the peace treaty, as I referred to it earlier. Saying that, the improvement was mainly on Dad’s side. If anything, Ryan has slipped a little the other way since we got engaged. I think he’s accepted that he’ll never be Dad’s favourite person, whatever he does, which has hardened his attitude, leading him to make less effort than he once did.

  Anyway, they’re pleasant enough to each other when we’re all together and, for that, I’m thankful. It has been tough at times, though, and I’m not sure my dad will ever entirely stop thinking badly of Ryan. Even since we’ve been engaged, Dad’s tried several times to warn me off him. Eventually, I had to say that I wouldn’t stand for it any longer. I told him in no uncertain terms to keep such thoughts to himself. I’ve made the decision to forgive Ryan and move past what happened, so Dad needs to as well.

  Will the very act of us all going through the wedding ceremony and reception improve matters? Here’s hoping. It does already seem to have brought Dad closer to Kelly and Jeremy. It’s all been extremely amicable between them so far, in terms of making arrangements for the big day; if Ryan’s parents are aware of any residual tension between him and Dad, they certainly haven’t let on to me.

  Kelly, in particular, is bursting with excitement about next week. I got her involved, together with Cara, in helping me to find my perfect wedding dress. The three of us visited several bridal shops together, eventually finding exactly what I was looking for in the lovely village of Whalley. It was great having her along for the ride – someone who’s actually been a bride – and we definitely bonded through the experience.

  No one has a clue what the dress looks like, other than the three of us and the staff at the shop. On Kelly’s recommendation, we made a pact not to discuss it with anyone else before the big day. ‘My mother told me it was bad luck to do so,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s to reduce the chance of the groom finding anything out about it. I think it’s fun, anyway. If you can manage to keep it from your father, his reaction when he first sees you wearing the dress on the day, before giving you away, will be priceless. You’ll both be in tears, I reckon.’

  ‘Perhaps I’d better show him before I get my makeup done, so as not to ruin it. But otherwise, good idea. What do you think, Cara? Will you be able to keep it secret?’

  Cara gave me a playful poke in the ribs. ‘Oy, what are you suggesting, Rose? Are you calling me a gossip? Of course I can keep it under my hat. So long as you don’t stitch me up with an embarrassing maid of honour outfit.’

  ‘Deal.’ Winking at my soon-to-be mother-in-law, I added: ‘But remember that means you not saying anything to Jeremy either, Kelly. And especially not to Ryan.’

  She mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. ‘You have my word.’

  For fun, we all did a pinkie promise – and that was that. As agreed, I’ve not shown it to Dad. I wound him up initially, saying it was short and very revealing. But fearing this might lead him to try to sneak a look ahead of the big day, I told him not to worry. ‘It’s very elegant,’ I said. ‘But that’s all you need to know. It’ll be a nice surprise.’

  It should go without saying that Dad and Ryan haven’t been suit shopping together. I wouldn’t have dared to suggest that to either of them, for fear of upsetting the delicate balance in relations ahead of the main event.

  PART THREE – CASSIE’S STORY

  CHAPTER 20

  ROSE

  Rose and Cassie walk along the passageway towards the restaurant where they’ll be having dinner together.

  ‘Do you think they’ll put me in a highchair?’ Cassie asks.

  ‘Sorry?’ Rose replies. ‘I’m not with you. Like a bar stool, you mean? I doubt it.’

  Cassie chuckles, brushing Rose’s forearm with her fingers. ‘I mean like the kind of seat they put babies in, because of how clumsy I was last time I was here, spilling wine all over that poor waiter. Gosh, I hope he doesn’t serve us tonight. I’d be mortified – and he’d probably be terrified to come near me again.’

  Rose feels a bit merry already, having finished telling Cassie her story at the outside bar. She plans to slow down at the dinner table and drink plenty of water. Cassie’s clearly a lot more used to drinking than she is, as she doesn’t seem remotely affected, despite being a drink ahead of her. Maybe she’s good at hiding it.

  At least Rose has done most of her talking; now she mainly needs to sit back and listen to Cassie tell her story. She did try to get her to start it while they were still in the bar, but the older woman resisted.

  ‘Relax,’ she said. ‘Let’s have a short breather, rather than me racing straight in.’ Apparently picking up on Rose’s frustration, she added: ‘Come on, you’ve waited this long. I’m sure you can manage a few more minutes. I’ll begin when we’re seated for dinner, I promise. And thank you for telling me your story, Rose. I feel like I know you an awful lot better as a result. Not hard, I suppose, considering we met as strangers only a fe
w hours ago. It seems so much longer, though, don’t you think? Probably because of everything we’ve discussed.’

  She was tempted to disagree, on the grounds that she still barely knew anything about Cassie. However, not wanting to be churlish, Rose nodded and smiled. Had she revealed too much about herself? It felt like she’d been talking forever. And yet it wasn’t like she’d actually recounted her entire life story. It was an abridged version at best – little more than a precis in parts. And yet she had covered most of the key moments. The substantial stuff.

  ‘I suppose I can wait a little longer,’ Rose said with a diplomatic smile, sipping on her G&T. ‘If I absolutely must. You certainly know how to whet my appetite, Cassie, I’ll give you that. The longer you make me wait, the greater expectations I have of a truly scintillating story.’

  As they approach the entrance to the restaurant, Rose worries that Cassie might make another excuse to delay finally opening up about herself. If so, she’ll call her on it this time, knowing she has no means of escape, short of leaving the table and causing a scene, which she doubts Cassie will want to do on the back of her lunchtime misadventure.

  As it happens, there’s no need. Once they’ve been led to the table and had their initial drinks order taken, Cassie begins.

  ‘Right,’ she says. ‘Here we are. No more excuses. Time for me to pay my dues and return one story with another.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Good. I’ll start at the beginning, but I’m not going to dwell on that part. It’s not pertinent compared to the stuff that follows and, honestly, it’s hard for me to talk about. Please bear with me on this, Rose. My reasoning will make more sense once you’ve heard more of what I have to tell you. And it’s not that I’m deliberately glossing over the difficult bits. There are plenty of those that I will be recounting in detail, believe me. We only have so much time, so I’m going to focus my storytelling on what has most relevance to, er, the bigger picture.’

 

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