The Guest List

by Melissa Hill

  ‘What do you mean it’s not my responsibility?’ Betty gasped, as if the very notion was insulting. ‘I am the mother of the bride. Your father and I are the parents of the bride. It’s what we do.’

  No, it’s what Heidi brainwashed you into doing, Cara wanted to say, but she held her tongue.

  ‘Honestly Mum, it’s very generous of you to offer, and I do appreciate it. But I just don’t believe in going into all sorts of debt for one day, and I know Shane doesn’t either, OK?’

  ‘Oh Cara, you are just so practical, sometimes. All the time, actually. We’re talking about your wedding, pet – your big day. Just understand that your father and I will do everything we can to make it wonderful. You just don’t worry yourself about the costs, we’ll sort something out.’

  Cara felt tears in her eyes, unable to believe what she was hearing. Here her parents were, in their late fifties and nearing retirement, and still willing to go into more debt over their children’s weddings. They were way too kind-hearted. But Cara knew that such generosity came with a price.

  The family house Betty and Mick had been close to owning outright a couple of years ago was now, thanks to Heidi, another good ten years away from being paid for. And now her mother was talking about a third top-up? Well, maybe it didn’t play on her sister’s conscience, but there was no way Cara was going to drive her lovely parents – who’d ensured she’d never wanted for anything – into further debt in their advancing years

  ‘Look, Mum, let’s just talk about it all on Sunday over dinner. We still need to tell Shane’s folks about the engagement – we’re doing that tonight. So just hold off on anything until then, OK?’

  ‘Of course, of course. And give the Richardsons my regards, won’t you? I suppose this means we’ll get to meet them soon – the lord and lady of the manor,’ Betty added in the feigned haughty tone she used when referring to Shane’s parents.

  ‘Of course I will.’

  It was true that the two sets of parents had never met, and Cara knew that privately Betty was foaming at the mouth to meet with the Richardsons. She guessed that would be happening soon. While she’d hoped to have introduced both couples before now, Shane’s folks were so always so busy there had never seemed to be an opportunity.

  ‘Anyway, congratulations again love, I am so happy for you,’ Betty went on. She suddenly sounded teary and Cara felt her own eyes well up. ‘You’re going to be such a beautiful bride. Now, go on and have a great day,’ she went on, before adding ominously, ‘I have a few calls to make.’

  ‘Well, you can make calls, but no deposits Mum, OK?’ Cara had to laugh at her mother’s irrepressible nature. ‘Don’t pay for anything and definitely don’t make any big decisions without consulting us. Not yet.’

  ‘Oh I really don’t see why you are being so serious about it all, Cara. It’s your wedding!’

  ‘Mum, I know what it is. But you will talk to me before you start putting down deposits, yes? Promise?’

  Again, silence from the other end of the line and Cara knew her reticence had put a spanner in the works as Betty had no doubt decided on having the whole shebang organised by five o’clock that afternoon.

  ‘I’m serious Mum,’ she scolded. ‘If you book anything, if you place any money on anything wedding-related, Shane and I will . . .’ Cara quickly considered what could be the worst thing they could do and yesterday’s conversation with Kim popped into her head. ‘Shane and I will elope to Las Vegas some time without telling anyone,’ she finished wickedly.

  There was a sharp intake of breath.

  Trump card! Cara grinned, knowing she’d hit the jackpot. Nothing would horrify her mother more than her daughter eloping without her, not to mention the idea of her eloping and being walked down the aisle to Elvis singing ‘Love Me Tender.’

  ‘Oh Cara, you wouldn’t . . .!’ Betty cried.

  ‘You know I would. Married by Elvis in the Little Chapel of Love. Who knows, maybe we could even do a drive-thru wedding. Can you imagine it?’ she teased, unable to resist. She heard her mother breathing hard. Finally, Betty spoke. ‘Fine, fine,’ she conceded.

  Cara breathed a sigh of relief. She might have won the battle, but she knew she hadn’t won the war.

  As she and her mother said their goodbyes, she wondered how she was going to get out of a huge wedding at St Joseph’s, in a big Cinderella dress (the type her mother favoured) and indeed have to face the prospect of mingling with three hundred-odd people she didn’t even know. While she was sure that type of thing was fine for some people, she knew by the way her stomach felt at that moment that it was certainly not what she and Shane wanted for themselves.

  She looked again at the engagement ring on her finger and went back over her conversation with her mother.

  She wondered what Shane’s parents would say this evening. Well, at least they were the parents of the groom so technically, weren’t supposed to get involved in any of the arrangements. They were just supposed to show up.

  Cara closed her eyes briefly and tried to focus her thoughts. Betty knew her so well, so surely she would appreciate that she wasn’t Heidi and she wanted to do things differently. They had always wanted different things, had always been so different in every way, so why would her mother think that Cara would want to emulate her younger sister’s elaborate nuptials?

  She shook the thoughts from her mind and tried to regain some of her earlier positivity. Of course, this was about her and Shane and it would only be about what they wanted.

  Cara tried to picture herself in the big Cinderella dress at the front of a church along with three hundred people that she didn’t know watching her and Shane get married. But she couldn’t see it. It didn’t fit, didn’t mesh with who she and Shane were as a couple. She tried to picture what did fit, what her idea of the perfect wedding was, and she realised her view was foggy and undefined.

  A small wedding, definitely, but where? And who to invite? Her instincts said just family and friends, but maybe her mother had a point, and Shane would want to invite lots of his family’s friends and acquaintances. Last night, after he proposed, they hadn’t discussed the technicalities and specifics of the wedding, only the idea of marriage itself and how happy they were about it all.

  Her conversation with her mother still fresh in her mind, Cara thought of all the things that needed to be considered, never mind organised, and felt a flutter of panic. She bit her lip, trying to quell the faint anxiety that now coursed through her veins.

  If this was supposed to be such a wonderful time, then why did she suddenly feel so panicked?

  Chapter 7

  ‘Late as usual,’ Shane scolded good-naturedly as later that evening after work, Cara rushed through the courtyard entrance to the restaurant. They were meeting Shane’s parents for dinner, and while the reservation was for seven o’clock, it was now five after.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . . You know me,’ Cara said, wincing, as they made their way inside. While she usually didn’t worry so much about being five minutes late for a dinner reservation, this was L’Ecrivain, one of Dublin’s most upmarket restaurants, and it was after all Shane’s parents they were meeting. And she figured if the Richardsons were willing to shell out for a Michelin-starred dinner on their behalf, the least she could do was get there on time.

  ‘No big deal. Don’t worry, they’re waiting downstairs at the bar, I told them you were just stuck in traffic,’ Shane reassured her.

  His relaxed expression immediately put Cara at ease. All day, she’d struggled to shake off the anxiety that had reared its head during the phone call with her mother. Betty’s initial reaction to her news had opened up a new can of worms that she hadn’t considered: other people’s opinions about what she and Shane should do for their wedding.

  ‘Do I look all right?’ she asked nervously. Before leaving Octagon earlier, she’d changed out of her work clothes and into a pretty patterned tea dress and heels, much to Conor’s amusement.

  ‘Ve
ry demure,’ her boss had teased. ‘Eminently suitable for meeting the in-laws.’

  ‘Smart-ass. It’s not my first time meeting them, you know,’ she’d retorted, annoyed that Conor seemed determined to take the mickey out of her, when he knew full well how nervous she often was around Shane’s parents.

  Although he’d been lovely when she’d told him the good news.

  ‘Congratulations. Lucky guy. I hope he makes you very happy,’ Conor had said simply when Cara had shown him her diamond, and she wished that everyone’s reaction could be so straightforward.

  ‘You look fantastic,’ Shane told her now. ‘You’re glowing. And actually, I think my parents are excited too. It’s like they sense something is up.’

  She smiled and took a deep breath. Although they could be quite intimidating, she had always gotten along well with Shane’s parents, Lauren and Gene Richardson. Even though they were somewhat pretentious and obsessed with money and status, Cara didn’t begrudge them. After all, they had raised Shane to be a kind and generous man, so they had to have done something right.

  And while she didn’t share some of their ideas and opinions, they had welcomed her from day one, and didn’t turn their noses up at her working-class background. That meant something.

  Cara and Shane entered the restaurant and headed directly for the wine bar, a beautiful space in the middle of which sat a grand piano, whereupon a gracious member of the bar staff immediately offered them a glass of champagne.

  Lauren and Gene were seated at a high table, a glass of champagne already in front of each of them.

  Shane’s mother, always impeccably put together, looked considerably younger than her years, and not a single strand of grey hair could be found anywhere in her elegant, deep chestnut coiffed hair. Her face was without lines, which Cara attributed to the skin caviar that she applied religiously to her face each day, and which also happened to cost hundreds per ounce. She also made sure to keep herself in good shape through twice daily personal training sessions and an on-staff yoga instructor.

  Gene was the quintessential distinguished gentleman, with fair good looks that he had bestowed upon his son. He had the posture of an aristocrat and always spoke well, with a heavy and rather grandiose accent.

  ‘Ah, there you are, my dear!’ Gene smiled as he reached forward to welcome Cara. She kissed him on both cheeks.

  ‘Good to see you Gene,’ she replied. It had taken a while, but now she felt comfortable using their first names when addressing them. ‘Lauren, you look beautiful.’

  Dressed in head to toe Chanel, Lauren Richardson welcomed Cara into a gentle hug, but Cara immediately worried about ‘wrinkling’ her.

  ‘So do you,’ said Lauren quietly. As was the norm, Shane’s parents consistently spoke in measured tones, rarely raised their voices and were quick to consider appearances before ever showing too much emotion.

  Soon afterwards, the foursome were led upstairs and shown to one of the best tables in the house. Cara was always surprised at who her future in-laws knew and while she didn’t aspire to climb the social ladder, she still felt a little starstruck when she had the opportunity to be introduced to well-known Irish politicians or TV personalities, just because they happened to want to say hello to Shane’s parents.

  ‘I’m so sorry I’m late. The traffic was absolute murder,’ Cara apologised. Both Lauren and Gene settled back into their seats, placing their napkins on their laps as Cara jostled to place her handbag under the table and situate herself in her chair. She noted their calm exteriors and immediately tried to mirror them. She always felt so brash when she was around his parents. They were such a departure from her own family who, like her, all tended to be disorganised and boisterous.

  ‘Don’t give it a second thought, dear,’ Lauren reassured her as she picked up the cocktail already waiting on the table, taking a delicate sip. ‘Gene took the liberty of ordering pre-dinner cocktails. I hope you don’t mind.’

  As if on cue, a gin and tonic appeared in front of Cara and, while she wasn’t particularly partial to gin, she didn’t want to tell Gene (again) that it wasn’t one of her favourites. She took a small sip.

  ‘Thank you,’ she smiled politely, trying not to grimace at the sharp taste of the alcohol.

  ‘You just missed Bono. If you’d arrived just a few minutes earlier, we would have been happy to introduce you,’ Lauren commented.

  Bono? Did she seriously mean . . . Cara looked at Shane, who, well used to his parents’ name-dropping, just smiled and surreptitiously rolled his eyes.

  ‘Oh, it’s too bad I missed him,’ she replied politely, although admittedly she wasn’t a fan.

  A brief bout of silence ensued and Cara shifted in her seat. Lauren and Gene sat back in their chairs as a very pleasant waiter offered them a basket filled with a mouth-watering selection of freshly baked bread.

  Cara lifted up a hand to point out the Guinness bread, which looked particularly tempting. As she did, she saw Lauren’s eyes dart to the ring sparkling vividly beneath the overhead lighting.

  ‘Oh,’ Lauren smiled. ‘What a beautiful ring.’

  Cara swallowed hard, and looked quickly at Shane. ‘Oh. Thank you.’ She wasn’t sure what to say now. Was he going to announce it or . . .?

  Thankfully, Shane took his cue. When the waiter had disappeared, he reached forward and took Cara’s hand in his. ‘Mother, trust you to notice. Always the magpie.’ He grinned and looked from one parent to the other. ‘Actually, Cara and I have some news.’ He smiled at Cara. ‘I have asked Cara to marry me and much to my delight, she has accepted.’

  There was a brief silence, and Cara noticed Gene and Lauren glance quickly at one another before eventually Gene spoke.

  ‘This is wonderful news!’ he boomed. ‘Well done, son. Cara, welcome to the family.’

  Lauren smiled and patted her hand. ‘Congratulations dear.’

  Immediately, Cara felt herself relax. Perfect. Just congratulations and welcome to the family. Exactly the role of the groom’s side. No pressure and no suggestions about churches, the guest list, or how things should or shouldn’t be done.

  ‘Shane, you have excellent taste,’ Lauren cooed, examining the ring more closely. ‘So very stylish and just enough for the moment. You can always upgrade to something bigger in the future of course.’

  OK. So much for ‘no suggestions.’

  ‘I think it’s perfect. I couldn’t have chosen better myself,’ Cara said, smiling at Shane in case he was deflated by the side (or was it direct?) swipe at the size of the diamond.

  ‘So,’ Lauren continued. She reached for her bag and extracted a Louis Vuitton datebook. She began flipping pages, examining the months. ‘What dates are you considering? I think late autumn would be perfect, and it would really match your colouring, Cara.’

  ‘October would be good actually,’ Gene agreed. ‘I’ll have a word with Patrick Jones from the Club. I heard recently that the Williams’ girl has just got engaged and we don’t want to be beaten to the punch.’

  Cara opened and closed her mouth, at a loss for words. She seriously hoped he wasn’t talking about the K-Club, of which Shane’s parents were members. It was a lovely spot but way too lavish and upmarket for them. Seeing his fiancée’s look of concern, Shane spoke up.

  ‘Mother, Father, that won’t be necessary. We haven’t quite decided what we are going to do yet, but I don’t think the Club is in our plans.’

  His parents stared at him blankly, and Cara finally found her voice and stepped in. ‘Yes, as I told my mother this morning, we think that we want to keep things small.’

  Lauren and Gene Richardson regarded their son and future daughter-in-law with puzzled expressions, seemingly trying to digest this.

  Then all of a sudden, Shane’s mother smiled fondly, as if she’d figured out just why they wanted a small wedding.

  ‘Oh Cara, dear, really, please don’t worry – of course Gene and I will take care of everything. I completely appreciate that yo
u wouldn’t want your parents to worry about paying for your wedding. We have the means; we will take care of everything.’

  ‘No Lauren, that’s really not it,’ Cara replied, somewhat affronted. ‘Affordability has nothing to do with it. Honestly, Shane and I just want to keep it small, we just want our loved ones and close friends there . . .’ She looked to Shane, who nodded in an agreement.

  But, seemingly unable to digest this, Lauren immediately jumped to another –very different – conclusion as to why anyone would want a small wedding. She looked at Cara’s half-finished gin and tonic. ‘Well Cara, if my suspicions are correct, I’m not entirely sure it’s appropriate for you to be drinking alcohol—’

  Cara flushed bright red. ‘That’s not . . .’

  ‘Mother!’ Shane chided sternly. ‘Cara is not pregnant. And really, money is not the issue either. We both feel that we want a small affair and a showy wedding is just not our style. End of story.’

  Cara breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Shane was here to back her up. She didn’t feel as defenceless as when she had spoken to her mother.

  However, the expressions on Lauren and Gene’s faces suggested that the subject was certainly far from closed.

  ‘Shane, I simply do not understand what you are saying. A small wedding? However would we manage that? I can think of at least two hundred people who need to be on the guest list,’ Gene persisted. ‘And that doesn’t even get into business associates and other acquaintances. When I think of all of the weddings that we’ve attended over the years . . . it is only good etiquette that we return that invitation.’

  ‘Absolutely. It is required,’ Lauren put in haughtily.

  ‘No Mother, it is not required,’ Shane replied, his tone firm. Rarely did he lose his temper, but Cara could tell that he was exasperated with his parents’ obsession with society requirements. ‘Cara and I wouldn’t know those people if we fell over them on the street. And I’m willing to bet that you barely know them yourselves. Therefore, they do not need to be involved in this.’