by Xavier Neal
I’d like to be the one to put his throat through some bloody tension.
“Unfortunately, we’re going to have to let you go as our client along with your brother and your father, which is what I was explaining before you joined the conversation,” Michael finishes with a sip of his drink.
My eyes meet my father’s stoic face. He looks at me and calmly informs, “I wanted him to tell you face to face rather than just send an email first thing in the morning. I thought this would be better than the cold shoulder and papers to sign.”
I would’ve preferred an email. At least that way I could scream my frustrations from behind a screen. What the hell is the big damn bloody deal with our relationship to these people? It’s like she’s the daughter of a war lord or an international criminal in forty six countries. Her skin is darker than mine. Last time I checked that didn’t make her beneath me. Beneath us. And people cower in fear about how it may ‘look’ or how ‘morale’ might change, but why is it they automatically have to fear that outcome? What if by seeing me with an African American woman as a Princess, as a Duchess, instilled a new hope for those who feel they are still too oppressed to do whatever it is that’s in their hearts? What if simply by seeing a couple like us those who have been ashamed of who they love venture into the light and stand proudly? Why are people for equality on paper but against it in actuality? Most importantly, how do we bridge the gap rather than make it wider? I want the children I’m battling to help now to have a fighting chance later for the aspects of love, wealth, and prosperity. Is it wrong to wish that one of the children who are in the program grows up to buy Sweet Settings and fires the Sweet brothers for being discriminative assholes?
The knot of antipathy that’s nestled in the pit of my stomach expands. I turn back towards Michael and state, “I completely understand having to keep your company and your company’s shareholders best interest at heart. I respect your choice as a business man.”
Of course I’m lying.
“Shall I be the one to tell Kristopher?”
To my surprise my father gives my back a heavy pat. “No. I’ll tend to your brother. You might want to take a moment to collect your thoughts before your toast.”
I give him a polite nod and turn to Michael. “Enjoy the rest of your evening Mr. Sweets. I will make sure to have those papers signed first thing in the morning.”
He offers his best regards smile, which is when I take the opportunity to dismiss myself.
All right…One down. We knew this would happen. It’s not the end of the world…At least not yet.
My eyes scan the busy crowd for any signs of Brie, Soph, or Kris. It takes a few moments, but I finally locate her on the opposite side of the room, backed into a corner being bombarded by someone I’d rather she stay fifty yards away from.
I’m not exaggerating.
Quickly, I make my way through the crowd over to them, and command, “Fredrick, stop touching my fiancé before they have to surgically remove a champagne flute from the last place you’d want to hear it whistle.”
My cousin cringes but takes a step backwards. “Highly too graphic for such lovely company.”
I slide my arm around her waist and tug her tightly against me. “Be thankful it was what I said and not something more vicious Brie came up with herself.”
At that moment, Brie flashes me a smirk. “I’m not vicious. I’m creative.”
“Is that what we call frying my tie for forgetting to add bacon to the grocery list?”
“Yes.” She hums with an innocent look. Afterwards, she looks at my cousin and says, “He never made the mistake again.”
There’s a small laugh exchanged among us before I state, “I can only assume Fredrick has already properly introduced himself leading of course with the fact he’s my cousin.”
Brie nods, still smiling. “He did.”
“Fredrick Kenningston Jr. is the only child of my uncle Fredrick and aunt Elizabeth.”
“They only needed one child because they got it right on the first try.” He winks at her.
“Or so dreadfully wrong they decided not to tempt fate twice,” I counter with a smirk.
Though Fredrick is a handful of years younger than me, it’s never stopped him from weaseling his way around me. All. My. Life. Boarding school? He crashed every party he could with us. During my time at the university? He chased my leftovers like a famished soul on the brink of death. He’s always constantly dyed his hair blonde, kept a steady gym membership since he’s too clumsy to play sports, and spent most of his inheritance on fashion rather than investing it in something that could make him his own fortune. His mentality over being born to the ‘wrong’ Kenningston is more subtle until he’s three pints in. You didn’t really think there was only jealousy outside the royal family, did you?
“Speaking of your parents, where are they? I’d like to introduce them to my fiancé.”
Fredrick mumbles to him as he turns to looks over his shoulder. “Somewhere on the dance floor, I’m sure…”
“Where’s Soph and Kristopher?” I ask in a quiet tone.
“They abandoned me with Frodo here about ten minutes ago. Soph had to pee again and your brother was summoned to talk to some older gentleman who made me wonder if he’s here, who’s running the Monopoly board?”
Her depiction of Arthur Copeland tugs the corner of my lip upward.
Focus on her humor and not on what they’re possibly discussing.
“No…” Fredrick whines loudly, grabbing our attention. “Dad! You can’t grope mom on the bloody dance floor…”
Our eyes settle on my uncle Fredrick who has his hands gripping my aunt’s ass as they sway together. We hide our snickers behind our hands, but Fredrick stomps over to break up their fun.
From here they actually resemble my mother and father. Uncle Fredrick looks an awful lot like my father except with dark brown hair and a beard. Up close Aunt Elizabeth’s appearance is quite different from what my mother’s was. She has strawberry blonde hair, an extremely petite frame, and green eyes, but from this distance, the way she’s wrapped up completely in my uncle’s arms, it paints a painfully eerie similarity. I hate that mother has had to miss both of these special moments for us. As trite as it may sound, I like to believe she’s watching down over me, scolding me drinking too much and being too handsy with my bride to be.
With a small exchange of words, Fredrick directs the two of them over to us.
My dad’s middle brother expands his arms out for a hug. “Kellan!”
“Uncle Fredrick!” We embrace warmly before I repeat the action with my aunt Elizabeth. Once we part, I introduce them, “Brie Sanders please meet my uncle Fredrick and my aunt Elizabeth, the Duke and Duchess of Westburg.”
He tosses his arms around her. “Pleasure to meet you!”
Hand kissing has never rolled over well for him. He always bitches about not knowing where that hand has been.
“Westburg? As in where your favorite lacrosse team is from?” She questions in the process of hugging.
“Yes!” Uncle Fredrick exclaims. “Why do you think it’s his bloody favorite?” We all chuckle together and he asks, “Are you a lacrosse fan?”
Brie tries to hide her shame. “The t-shirts…”
Aunt Elizabeth offers her a polite squeeze of the hand. “It’s quite alright darling, I’m not a fan either and my husband owns the team.”
“You own the team?” Brie croaks.
Uncle Fredrick winks.
“Uncle Fredrick is my father’s middle brother and my uncle Trenton is the youngest in their line. Uncle Fredrick had Fredrick junior-”
“A child who is only alright with salacious touching if he’s the one doing it,” he states loudly in my cousin’s direction.
“And my uncle Trenton, Duke of Glynoclaster, had one daughter, my cousin Katherine.” I meet my eyes with my uncle. “Are they here? I’d love to introduce them as well before my toast.”
“Katherine is hidin
g somewhere-”
“She’s terribly shy,” my aunt quickly informs Brie.
“And your uncle Trenton…well…he’s somewhere around chasing skirts.”
I shake my head slowly. “Not surprised.”
I always imagined I would end up like my uncle Trenton except for the daughter thing, though to be fair she’s only thirteen and wasn’t planned at all. He’s never been married nor anywhere close. He didn’t even offer the French actress the chance to be his wife. Just simply agreed to help hide the scandal and take care of his child. He spends most of his time chasing bikini models, sipping wine, and throwing cash at ocean preserving causes he deems fit. Like my father, he spent most of his money investing it into corporations that have allowed for a frivolous life style. The two of them unlike my uncle Fredrick, have more pots than they do fingers to keep them in.
“Oh, so the horn dog thing is genetic?” Brie teases as my hand finds hers.
“Absolutely,” Uncle Fredrick and I retort in unison.
“The trouble the three of us used to find was remarkable,” Uncle Fredrick chortles until aunt Elizabeth gives him a scowl, “but I will add, once we’ve fallen in love, that’s it. There’s no turning back. There’s no talking us out of it. All the women in the world suddenly look like donkey demon witches and our lives become overpowered by the instinct to tend to the one who stole our attention.”
I smile at the feeling of Brie leaning closer to me. In a playful tone, I ask, “You sure you don’t wanna give my toast for me? That sounds better than anything I could’ve created.”
“You can have it.” He shrugs and gives his wife a good pinch on the ass. “I’ve already given that toast. No need to sit on those kinds of lines for the future.”
“What about Fredrick?” my fiancé adds.
“He’ll be lucky if any of the donkey demon witches will ever consider him.”
We laugh together again, but it’s cut short by my father calling me over to the toasting area. I give them one final smirk. “Looks like it’s time to proclaim my love.”
“Good luck,” Aunt Elizabeth whispers.
“Who needs luck? I’ve already got the girl.” I wink at her and tug Brie along.
Trying to keep up with my quick pace, she asks, “What am I supposed to do during this?”
“Stand there and look like you love me.”
“You mean like this?”
My head turns to grab a glance of her crossing her eyes with her tongue sticking out. “Precisely. In fact that should be on our save the date invitations.”
Our giggles fade as we stop beside my father who is still wearing his emotionless expression.
He smiles and plays ‘the fatherly role’ every time it’s required, yet in between I have no idea what he’s thinking. How frustrated he possibly is. And he’s not talking about it either. Though, he did give me a good reprimanding for making out with Brie before our announcement on the front lawn for all the photographers. Bad etiquette…
“Are you ready?” He asks, handing me the microphone.
I give my immediate family a quick glance. Spotting Soph, I nervously search for my brother who’s supposed to be at her side, prepared to be supportive. All of a sudden, he slips beside her, erases the look of trepidation, and pastes a proud grin on his face.
Nodding, I look back at my father. “Whenever you are.”
At that moment, he motions for the music to stop, and all eyes in the room move our direction. He turns his microphone on and proceeds, “Good evening ladies and gentleman. It’s a pleasure and honor to have you here tonight to celebrate the engagement of my son Kellan Kenningston and his lovely fiancé, Brie Sanders. As per tradition it is time for the toast, so if you will, please grab a glass, and prepare to cheer to their commitment to one another.”
My father gives me one final look to begin. “Hello. I hope you are all having a wonderful time this evening. Now I know there’s plenty of champagne left to drink and paella waiting to be devoured, so I’ll make this as brief and meaningful as possible.”
The crowd snickers. There are camera flashes and I hold my smile a moment longer.
With Brie’s hand still in mine, I give all my attention to her. “When I first started dating Brie, my entire world changed without my consent. I was forced to work harder, think smarter, and behave with purpose and a point. But I never once complained about it. It was refreshing. Intoxicating. Being that invested in another human being made me realize something crucial had been missing from my life. As a child I can remember vividly the way my father looked at my mother. The way his heart seemed to skip a beat whenever she smiled. And then when I became older, the way his entire world crumbled with her death. The way he seemed like he was truly one half of a whole.”
A small flicker of sadness appears in her eyes.
“I remember thinking that not everyone gets to experience what they had. I’d convinced myself at most you get a few good times, with a few decent people, and then that’s it. But I was wrong. I was so dreadfully wrong that the process of discovering it brought me to my knees, which is where I will stay for you, Brie. I will stay here, on my knees, completely humbled by your words, your actions, and your strength until the heavens part us. I will endure the good, the bad, the spectacular and the atrocious to keep you in my life. And today, in front of my entire country, I want to declare the simple truth that I love you and nothing can ever change that.”
Her bottom lip slides between her teeth.
It’s all right if you awe. It’s acceptable. It’s encouraged….
“With your glasses raised, please give a warm cheers to the woman who reigns over my heart as well as my soul, Brie Sanders.”
The crowd shouts in unison, “Cheers!”
There’s a brief pause followed by applause and the return of the music.
I turn the microphone off, lean forward towards her, and quietly ask, “Did I do alright?”
Her hand strokes my cheek. “You were wonderful…”
After a chaste kiss, I whisper, “What do you say we ditch this party early and I show you something else on my knees I plan to do for the rest of our lives…”
She giggles and prepares to reply when my father’s voice cuts in. “Kellan. A word. In private.”
Brie’s eyes cut him a glance behind me before she nods. “You should go.”
I let out a deep sigh, swipe a glass of champagne from the table I’m not supposed to, and follow him away from the crowded area just as Soph comes flying Brie’s direction for hugs.
We stroll towards the set of the doors which lead into the guest rooms’ side of the palace. Once we’re there, the set of guards protecting the doors opens them to allow us to slip to the other side, leaving our security details to wait beside them.
The doors shut giving us our privacy and I immediately bite, “What did I say wrong in my speech?”
He slides his hands into his pocket, but doesn’t reply.
“Did you hate the way I referenced mom? Hate the way I referenced you? Hate the way I-”
“It was a beautiful speech, Kellan.”
His words force my mouth closed.
Did he just…Did he really just say that?
“It was everything it should’ve been. Short. Simple. Reflected on your past and made a promise for your present.”
“But?”
“But minutes before you gave it, your brother lost his biggest investor.”
“Arthur Copeland.”
My father nods, doing his best not to show aggravation on his face. “Arthur told him if he stood there and supported your decision, Arthur would stop signing his checks, and take his money to a less diverse foundation.”
I replay the moment Kristopher stepped beside Soph, remembering a vague look of sadness that I mistook for nervousness over me screwing up the evening. My fingers fly to give my forehead a soothing rub.
“The Mennows also stopped me earlier this evening. They wish to discuss the possibility of re
moving their funding from MINOH as well.”
Unsure of what to say, I simply let my shoulders drop.
They’re one of my highest donors. The only one who donates more is Ronald Randolph. At least I don’t have to worry about him. He’s already met Brie and approved more or less. I spotted him and his wife earlier. They seemed to be having a good time.
“Rather than have that very look of defeat on your face be displayed for the cameras, reporters, and gossipers to see, I thought I should tell you in private. Your brother’s had a little more practice swallowing his pride in a crowded room than you have.” He swallows whatever his own emotions are about the subject and adds, “But I suggest you become accustom to it, Kellan, because this is far from over. The next few months are going to be grueling and are going to test the very words you just declared. I hope you’re ready…”