by Lindy Dale
The next evening, Mum invited Sam’s family over for dinner along with Adele, Brian and the children. She’d known Adele for years through the Yacht Club. That was how I scored my ‘holiday job’ as Paige’s nanny ~ the one that mysteriously became a full time affair after I graduated from Uni. Mum thought it would be a nice idea to show Kent and Patricia some Perth hospitality and for our families to become better acquainted before the big day. Personally, I would have rather been subjected to an evening watching replays of every Rugby World Cup match ever played. At least I’d be sure I’d only get my head bitten off for changing the channel.
Now, Mum and Dad might have been a bit on the frugal side but that by no means stopped them from having a lovely home. Since they’d down-sized to the Penthouse apartment in Nedlands they’d seen fit to dump their furniture of thirty years and invest in a house full of quirky antique pieces which Mum had cleverly mingled with her new love ‘eco chic’ bits and bobs that she’d had imported from their favourite places around the world. The pre-loved stuff had, of course, been donated to be re-used in some hippie commune or something. Nobody else would have been that desperate for our gold velour seventies sofa.
Dad had some rather unusual items on display, too ~ bowls made from bottle caps and placemats fashioned from bicycle tyres sat beside Moroccan pottery and Mexican glassware. Each piece was strategically placed to enhance the one next to it; every cushion had been chosen to look coordinated but not. It made for a very eclectic, yet stylish abode. One that I was comfortable inviting the Brockton Family into. Not even Patricia would be able to find fault with this house.
I’d been helping Mum to prepare the dinner all afternoon ~ well, she’d been cooking and I’d been mostly sitting on the other side of the counter keeping her company because my only competent culinary skill was chopping or the occasional use of a hand blender. It was to be an Italian style feast with antipasto, pasta, meat and dessert courses. For the children, she’d set up a special table and made a tasty Bolognese from organic lamb mince. (I’d warned her about Adele’s diet for the children.) I didn’t know how this would go down with Paige though, as she had declared only last night that she should avoid carbs, they made her feel as big as the mammoth in Ice Age 3. I had no idea where she’d gotten that idea from as Adele never said anything to the children about weight or diets and she never ate with them anyway. The Richards-Shaw clan ate High Tea and their parents’ dinner at eight.
When the doorbell rang, I wiped my hands ~ I’d been chopping vegetables ~ and ran to answer it. Being the only one who knew Sam’s family, I sort of thought it was my duty to introduce them to my parents. I was prepared for an onslaught of new wedding demands from Patricia but I was in no way prepared for the sight that greeted me on the other side of the door.
“Hey Millie.”
“Josh? Oh my God, Josh!”
Probably a bit of an understatement.
I flung myself into the arms of the man in front of me, embracing him tightly. Then, coming to my senses, I pulled back. Josh was my long time boyfriend before Sam. We’d broken up before he went off sailing around the world on his father’s yacht two years ago. No matter how excited I was to see him, it wasn’t appropriate that I hug him like a lover now that I had Sam.
“What’re you doing here?” I exclaimed.
“I got back a couple of days ago. Met your Mum in Herdsman Market yesterday. She invited me to dinner.”
That’d be like Mum. She’d always had a soft spot for Josh. Over the years he’d been more like a second child than a boyfriend at our house. Still, it was such a shock to see him standing there. Memories flooded back. We’d had some fun times.
I cast my eyes over him. He’d filled out in the time he’d been away ~ grown muscles in all the right places. His straight sandy hair was longer too and sprinkled with highlights of sun-kissed blonde but it suited him. It framed his face in a more rugged way and showed off his cheeky blue eyes and square jawline.
“I like the changes,” I commented. Josh and I had always been open with each other. He wouldn’t see it as anything more than it was meant to be. “You look very manly.”
“Are you saying I wasn’t manly before?”
“Don’t be silly. You look different, that’s all. More rough around the edges, not so metro-sexual city boy.”
“Living on a boat will do that. Whether you like it or not.”
I showed Josh through into the kitchen, where Mum gave him a kiss and hug. As at home as ever, even though he’d never been to the new house, he walked to the fridge and got himself a beer. Then he sat on a stool on the other side of the kitchen bench while I went back to the task of chopping vegetables for salad.
“You finally learnt how to cook?” he joked, reaching over to grab a slice of raw carrot.
“As if. I can make steamed vegetables and pan fried chicken breast though. Oh and Bircher muesli. It’s all Adele’s kids eat.”
“Yum. Remind me to pop by for a meal,” he replied, pilfering another piece of carrot.
“Very funny,” I slapped his hand away from the chopping board. “You enjoyed your time away then?”
I’d always wanted to travel, just not on a boat.
Josh looked over to where Mum had gone to set the table. “Loved it. Saw heaps, met so many people.” His voice lowered a notch or two. His eyes grew darker and more piercing. It was a look I recognised from when we’d been together. “The only problem was … you weren’t with me. I wish you’d come. It would’ve been so much better. The sunsets, the romantic nights on the deck….”
His hand reached over to rest on mine. A familiar tingle sprang into my fingers and yanking my hand away, I put the knife down for fear I might chop off a digit. Shit. Now would probably be good time to tell him my fiancé was due on the doorstep at any moment.
“You know how desperately I wanted you with me, don’t you, Mill’? You know I never forgot about us.”
I felt the shiver run up my arm. Only Sam called me Mill’ these days. Somehow it felt like a betrayal that Josh would do it.
“And you know I can’t stand boats or deep water. How would I have coped on a yacht for a year?”
“I would’ve looked after you.”
I had no doubt. Josh had always looked after me very well. And it’d only been the boat thing that split us up. Mum and Dad always believed wedding bells were in the air for us.
“Look. I don’t know how much Mum told you, but we’re having a few other people for dinner tonight. One is my fiancé, Sam,” I put so much emphasis on the word there could be no doubt as to where my allegiance lay. I hoped. “He’s meeting Mum and Dad for the first time.”
Josh’s face went a greenish grey. His hand began to shake on the side of his glass. Steadying, he put the beer down on the bench.
“Fiancé? You’re getting married?”
“No, I call him that because it sounds cute. Of course I’m getting married you dufus. In about six weeks, in fact.”
“Holy crap.”
I could see he was struggling to deal with it. He’d thought we could pick up where we’d left off.
“It’s been two years. I mean, we did break up before you left. You didn’t expect I was going to wait, did you?”
“I guess I kinda hoped.”
Great.
The doorbell rang again and I went to answer it, though I wasn’t sure if ‘saved by the bell’ would be an apt turn of phrase in this instance. More like ‘lambs to the slaughter’. I had a feeling this was going to be a rather awkward evening and not because Patricia and Amanda were going to be sitting opposite me.
I opened the door the second time to find Sam standing on the other side, a humongous bunch of pink and tangerine day lilies in his arms.
“Hey.”
“Hey to you too,” I replied. “Lovely flowers, but you shouldn’t have.”
“They’re not for you,” he said, leaning over them to kiss me. “They’re for your Mum.”
“Charme
r.” I grabbed his hand, pulling him into the hall. “Come in, come in. Mum’s in the dining room.”
Patricia and Kent followed along behind me. I could see her eyeing off my parents’ art as we walked along. The space may not have been hung with Picassos and Monets but my parents’ collection was all them. They collected what they liked, not what they thought would impress people, though even I’d wondered about their choice of the purple naked lady with 3D pubic hair made from pot scourers. She was a little, well, bizarre but apparently worth more than my designer wedding dress.
I led Sam’s family into the open plan living area where Mum had taken off her apron and was wiping her hands on a cloth at the bench. Dad was at the ready to shake hands and Josh stood awkwardly in the background.
“Mr. and Mrs. McIntyre. I’m Sam.”
He handed Mum the bouquet and kissed her on both cheeks, European style.
“Sam. At last. And these are your parents and sister?”
Sam presented them in turn. Kent in his brash way squeezed Mum so hard I could have sworn I heard bones crack. Patricia and Amanda were somewhat more reticent. In fact, they looked as if they might catch Swine flu or Bird flu or something if they so much as touched any of us.
Finally, we came to the elephant in the room.
“Um, this is Josh Evans. He’s an old family friend just back from a sailing trip around the world. I hope you don’t mind that Mum invited him.”
Sam’s grin was easy. “The more the merrier. Great to meet you, Josh. Can’t say I’ve ever heard Millie mention you, though. Have you been away long?” He thrust a large hand in Josh’s direction, following the shake with a boyish punch on the arm. Even with his newly grown muscles, the force of it made Josh stumble. A look of murder crossed his face.
“About two years. A lot seems to have changed since I left.”
He glanced at me but I ignored him.
“Things have a way of doing that. I went home for a bit last year and when I got back I discovered Millie’d been shagging my best mate.”
Oh. My. God. Please let the parents not have heard that.
“Sammmm,” I hissed.
He wrapped his big arm around me and squeezed. He bent to kiss my forehead. “It’s okay, Babe. I told you I was down with it. I was making a point to Josh, here. That’s all. And anyway, if you hadn’t done it, we wouldn’t be where we are today, right?”
And that made the embarrassment so much easier to cope with. “How about we change the subject?”
Josh gave a tight smile. “Fine by me.”
As Mum led the way through to the living area, Sam pulled me along to catch up with her. He seemed genuinely excited.
“It’s really good to meet you, Mrs. McIntyre. I was beginning to think Millie was lying about having parents. You never seem to be here.”
“You can call me Mum,” she smiled. “Now that you’re going to be family. Millie’s told us so much about you.”
“Hope it wasn’t all bad,” he chuckled, his eyes twinkling naughtily at me.
“No. She only has good reports.”
“Well, she never told me how young you were. I can see where Millie gets her ravishing good looks. Even with the few extra kilos you could pass as sisters.”
Mum blushed like a schoolgirl.
“Sam!” Clearly, tonight was going to be one of those ‘open and honest’ nights for my fiancé. Maybe we needed to have a little chat before dinner?
“It’s alright, darling,” Mum said, “I understand what he means. Now, why don’t we all sit down here, have a drink and get to know each other a bit while we wait for Adele and the family. I’ll pop these flowers in water.”
After being shown where the powder room and cloakroom were and divesting themselves of their coats, the Brocktons lined themselves up along the modular lounge. Uniformly dressed in black, they looked about as comfortable as three crows sitting on a power line waiting to be picked off with a rifle. Kent dived into a conversation with Dad about the weather and boating on the Swan River while Mum went back to the kitchen to bring out a few plates of nibbles to ‘keep us going’ until we ate.
“You don’t have help?” Patricia asked, as if trying to fathom the unspeakable.
“Not usually. If it’s a big ‘do’ we hire some in.”
Amanda’s face had frozen in a look of shock. “So, you’ve cooked everything tonight? From scratch?”
“Mum’s a great cook,” I said. “Unlike me.”
“Lucky for you Sam can afford a housekeeper then, isn’t it?”
How was I supposed to answer that? God, I hated that she could put me on the spot and I had no clever retort.
“Did you like the wedding invitations, Patricia? Now that you’ve seen the actual ones?” I asked, changing the subject.
Alex and I had given up two Saturdays to attend a calligraphy course and then stayed up till three a.m. the other week scribing the names from the guest list so slowly that they could be deemed nothing less than perfection. I was convinced I’d given myself some sort of repetitive strain injury because of it and Alex had been grumpy for the following two days due to sleep deprivation. But after the arguments over the design, I was determined Mrs. Brockton would have nothing more to complain about. I was happy with the result. I thought Sam’s mother would be too.
“They were adequate. But considering the budget, I would have thought you’d have chosen something a little more expensive or at least sent them to have the names professionally printed.” Patricia looked down her nose, as if the mere thought of receiving an invitation that was not courier delivered was distasteful.
“I didn’t want them to be expensive. I wanted them to be stylish and pretty.”
“And you couldn’t have achieved that within my directives?”
God, where was Mum? And what the hell was Sam talking about to Josh? I was being stuck on a skewer and barbecued here.
“Um, not really. The changes you wanted would have been a step too far. They wouldn’t have conveyed the mood we want for our wedding.”
“Then the sooner you realise this wedding isn’t about what you want, the better.” Patricia picked up her champagne, giving it a cursory sip. Then she looked over my shoulder and into the dining area, ignoring me.
I felt sick. I’d tried so hard to be pleasant and bow to what Patricia wanted but she was such a rude cow. I couldn’t understand how she’d managed to give birth to a marvellous man like Sam. His generous heart was one of the reasons I loved him. With a sigh of resignation, I sat and stared out the window at the view. I didn’t see it though.
Reappearing, Mum sensed the tension. It would have been difficult not to with the entire room of people looking different ways except Dad and Kent, who’d moved on to a discussion of AFL versus Rugby Union.
“Everything alright?” Mum asked, as she put the food on the coffee table.
“Fine. Thank you,” Patricia replied, curtly. “Millie and I were talking about the invitations.”
“They’re quite unusual, aren’t they?”
“They’re not what I would have chosen for a wedding of this magnitude. Which reminds me, have you had any further thoughts on changing the cake, Millie? Or at least the detail on the top? It really is quite unsuitable.”
I pressed my lips together. “No. I like the cake idea as it is. Sam does too. He thinks it’s cute.”
“Koalas are cute but they also bite.”
I had no idea what she was talking about.
A small crinkle of annoyance dipped between Mum’s brows. I could tell she was dying to give Sam’s mum a piece of her mind but good manners dictated she would never speak rudely to a guest in her own home. Plastering a smile on her face, she motioned for Dad to top up the glasses. She took a deep breath and rose from her chair, picking up a platter. “Would you like some more antipasto, Patricia? The olives are locally grown and quite delicious.”
Sam’s mother peered at the platter. She picked up one of the oval shaped balls and inspec
ted it. “Well, yes. Thank you.”
*****
“How long did your family live next door to the McIntyres?” Sam asked Josh as we sat down to dinner.
The young ones, as Mum called us, were seated together at the end of the dining table, a whole smorgasbord away from Sam’s mother and her disdain, which was cause for a celebration in itself. Sam relaxed at the end of the table. He’d pulled his chair closer to mine and had his arm slung carelessly over the back of it. His fingers curled through a couple of stray bits of my hair. I liked it when he touched me like that. It made me feel loved. On his right, Josh played with his cutlery, a habit he’d had since giving up smoking at the age of twenty-three. He hadn’t looked at me since Sam had arrived. I wasn’t sure if he was angry at me, or trying to digest the news of my impending marriage. Whatever, it was quite disconcerting not to have him joking and acting the fool.
“Since we were little,” Josh answered. “I think I was about four when the McIntyre’s moved next door.”
I could see straight into Sam’s devious mind and where this was heading. “You must have a whole lifetime of serious dirt you could dish about what she used to be like.”
Josh appeared to brighten. “You bet. There was this one time, when we were about seventeen….”
“Josh,” I warned. I had no desire for him to explain how I had lost my virginity.
Ignoring me, he continued, “Me, Millie and one of her school friends went to this party up the road from my house. The girls had a little too much cheap wine and well…” His eyes began to sparkle with mischief.
Oh my God. He’d promised never to tell what happened that night and I’d had to pay dearly for that silence. It cost me months of doing his homework to keep the incident buried where it belonged. I glanced down the table to where Mum had managed to engage Patricia in some sort of pleasant conversation. If Josh insisted on going there, I could only pray they were getting hard of hearing in their old age.
“Josh, please.”
“What?” he asked, brimming with feigned innocence.
If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought he was trying to make me suffer in front of everyone.