My mother flashed a loving smile Walter’s way before turning her attention to me. “Speaking of candy, here you go Annabel,” my mother said as she handed me a Butterfinger bar, my all-time favorite candy, and a bowl that had some remaining batter in it.
I couldn’t say a word. Tears filled my eyes. Memories came flooding back as I dipped the piece of chocolate into the batter and popped it into my mouth. It tasted like my childhood felt. Oh, how I wish Brody could be here next to me, dipping a Snickers bar into the bowl.
“Don’t cry, Sweetie,” my mother said as she reached over and wiped a tear away from my cheek. “Just enjoy.” Her eyes were a little misty too. Walter must have noticed because he walked over to her and hugged her tightly before he grabbed two cookies.
“Thanks, Mommy,” I said as Walter handed me one. I realized I haven’t called her that for many years.
She walked back to the platter of cookies and wrapped half of them in aluminum foil. “You’ll take these home with you,” she said to me as she handed me the foil packet. “I can’t have all these cookies in the house. I can’t eat any of them with the wedding and all. And I certainly can’t trust Walter with a full batch. I need to make sure he can fit down the aisle! Besides, I am sure Violet and Harley will enjoy them.”
The first time since my children were born, she sounded almost grandmother-ish. Could there be hope for her I wondered as I replied, “They sure will.”
“Good. Are you ready to leave? We should head over to the stationery store.”
***
Two hours passed and we still didn’t select an invitation. I wondered if the search would ever end. While I didn’t expect this to be a quick task, I didn’t anticipate it to be an all-day affair either. I swore my mother was determined to look through each and every book. I already had found ten invitations I thought would have been perfect. Every time I showed her one she’d just hand me a sticky and instruct me to mark it for later. She wanted us to narrow down our favorites.
“Excuse me?” I asked the bored looking girl behind the counter. “Exactly how many more books of invitations do you have?”
She paused for a second. “You’re in luck. There are only five more so you’re only looking at another hour or two before you can leave here.”
“Thank you.” Turning to Beatrice, “Mother, we need to speed up this process. I don’t have another two hours to sort through all these books.”
“Why? Do you have somewhere to go? A plane to catch or something?” she asked, her eyes never left the books.
“Mother, it’s already a quarter to four. I have to get home and prepare something for dinner so I can feed the kids.”
She cocked an eyebrow, “Isn’t Cole with them?”
“Yes, but cooking isn’t exactly his specialty.”
“Really?” She said as she continued to flip pages of the book. “I pegged him for the cooking type. He does make a marvelous martini, you know. Walter, on the other hand, sure knows his way around the kitchen let me tell you! It’s probably from all those years he lived as a bachelor. He’s an excellent cook. He makes the most amazing shrimp scampi with just the perfect amount of garlic. He’s completely the opposite of your father. Do you recall your dad wasn’t even capable of making toast? He tried to once and nearly burnt my house to the ground.”
“Yes, I remember mother.” At first I wasn’t going to say any more, but then anguish filled my heart. I stared at her. “Don’t you think that it’s sad I’ve been married to Cole for almost twelve years, yet you barely know anything about him? He makes a good martini because he had to work as a bartender in order to pay for college. Connie and Patrick didn’t have money to send him to school. He worked his ass off in order to get his degree. He was so determined to become an architect. In fact, as a little boy he drew blueprints for fun. Connie once showed me some of his drawings, she saved them you know. They were amazing. He was so cute...” I paused as I pictured the little boy my husband once was. “His dad was doing the plumbing for a nursing home that was being built and he took Cole to the site almost every weekend. Cole was fascinated by the building and started drawing his own blueprints. They were so detailed.” I smiled. “But the really cute part was while he was able to do such intricate work, he titled the drawing senior citizen home and spelled citizen s-i-t-e-z-e-n.”
She marked another invitation. “That’s sweet,” my mother muttered, without so much as a glance in my direction.
“Well, nothing was going to stop him from his dream, especially a lack of funds. When he graduated, he was so in debt he continued to bartend for years after on weekends just to pay them off. Which is why he makes such a mean martini.”
Beatrice didn’t comment so I continued, unable to keep inside what I had kept bottled up for so long. “Of course you didn’t know any of this. After all, you never once tried to get to know him. You never made any attempt to get to know anyone important to me. Whenever you’ve been with Cole’s family you barely manage to be civil. I wonder if you even know his sister’s names. Do you have any idea how hurtful this is to me?” I bit my lip in an attempt to hold back my tears.
“Oh, Annabel. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Dramatic? I’m just trying to express my feelings, Mother. You know, I have feelings too.” I sighed. I felt so defeated.
“Mmm, hmm.”
The girl behind the desk no longer looked bored. Her gaze was fixated on us as I debated if I should say more. For far too long I’ve held my tongue, the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat. They choked me. I finally had to get my feelings out in the open.
“How do you think it makes me feel knowing you have no interest in my children?” I closed the book of invitations in front of me with probably more force than was needed. “You never spend any time with them. Forget about going to one of their sporting events or recitals, you’ve never even played a game with them. You have no idea if Violet plays baseball or soccer. You don’t know what Harley’s favorite food is or that he’s allergic to strawberries. The fact that you don’t know any of this, Mother, is what is tearing me apart inside.”
“Are you done with this little outburst?” She asked as she tucked a caramel colored lock of hair behind her ear.
“You know what Mother? Yes. I’m done. I have been done for years. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner. But I guess better late than never. I’m sorry.” I reached into my pocketbook and pulled out my car keys. “I’ve got to go. I wish you all the best picking out your invitations. I hope you find happiness with Walter. He really does seem like a lovely man. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue to walk on eggshells around you hoping and praying to gain your affection and your forgiveness. I’ve done nothing to be forgiven for, despite what you may think.” I got up from the stool and started to put on my coat. As I zipped it I remembered my car was parked in her driveway. Leave it to me to ruin my grand exit with a lack of transportation. I really hoped I would be able to catch a cab by the train station down the block.
“Wait. Don’t go,” Beatrice said. Her voice was quiet.
“What?” I opened my arms in defeat.
“Shannon and Denise... Cole’s sisters’ names.”
“Congratulations, Mother. Bravo,” I said sarcastically as I softly clapped. “Do you want a medal?”
“No, Annabel. I don’t, but I do want something. Despite what you think I don’t want our relationship to be like this forever. I want to try and change things, improve things between us. I want to get back some of what we once had. I realize our relationship can’t change overnight, but I want it to change, and I am willing to work on it. I want to get to know you and your family better. This is why I wanted you to be part of my wedding preparation.”
I didn’t know what to think. The sad thing was, when a relationship deteriorates as much as ours had; it was hard not to think the worst. Was she telling me the truth or just desperate for some premarital help?
“I don’t know Mother.”
I answered honestly and stared into her gray eyes for clues.
“I don’t expect you to believe me. But I do hope you are willing to give me the benefit of the doubt and see if I am sincere.” She clapped her hands, “I know! How about we finish up here and then Walter and I will take you out to dinner.”
“While it’s a lovely thought, Mother, there is no way I can get a babysitter on a Saturday night with no notice.”
“But—”
“Before you ask, no. I’m not going to call Connie and impose on her either, if that was what you were going to suggest. The woman does so much for me already.”
“I know she does. You’re lucky to have her. I was going to suggest the kids come along too. They really did seem to take a liking to Walter.”
“They did like him,” I said, amazed at how they were already so much closer to this man after one evening than they were to my mother who they knew their entire lives.
“So what do you say? Dinner?” She asked.
And because I desperately wanted to believe her I said yes.
“Wonderful. Why don’t you go call Cole and let him know. I’ll finish looking through this book and then we’ll select an invitation from what we already have narrowed down. I think we can skip the remaining books, don’t you?”
I put my keys back in my bag and removed my phone. I walked outside the store to call Cole and gave him the play by play. To say he was skeptical about Beatrice’s intentions would’ve been an understatement. However, he did agree to go, probably because he was getting hungry.
When I walked back into the store Beatrice and the girl behind the desk giggled like two schoolgirls. I didn’t even want to think about what they were discussing, so I didn’t. I just resumed flipping pages.
“Here are my five favorites,” my mother said to me about fifteen minutes later. “As she pointed to several invitations. Which ones are yours?”
Feeling much calmer now than I did before I replied, “Mine are totally different than yours. You’re going traditional. I’m not. Here, this one is my favorite,” I said as I pointed to a thick square invitation, which was ultra modern. The background was white but there was a thick black border around it that was framed first in a brushed gold and then in brushed silver. The couple’s name was very prominent in a large bold font with minimal calligraphy.
“You like, that one?” Beatrice asked, as she scrunched her face in disbelief. “It doesn’t look wedding like at all. Shouldn’t it be eggshell and ornate?”
“Are you a virginal bride, Mother?”
“Excuse me?” She asked as she clutched her chest and looked mortified.
“Mother, you are not exactly twenty-five years old anymore and neither is Walter. Do you really want to have a totally traditional wedding? Don’t you think perhaps you should be a little more flexible? Maybe you should think of it more like a party to celebrate your new beginning.”
“Don’t be absurd! I don’t want people getting my invitation in the mail and thinking they are getting invited to some random party or something. I want them to see it and wonder who is getting married.”
My mother thrust the most cliché looking invitation in my direction. “Look at this invitation, Annabel. This is what I am talking about. This screams wedding. Don’t you agree?”
“No doubt about that,” I replied, sarcastically.
“Great! So we're decided!” She turned to the girl behind the counter, “I will take two hundred of these, please.”
“Very good, Ms. Buchanan. Now we just have to decide on the wording.”
Blissfully my mother replied, “It’s already all done.” She reached inside her Prada bag and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “Here you go. This is how I want them to read.”
The girl scanned the paper and smiled. Beatrice put her American Express card on the counter and the girl walked away with it.
CHAPTER 6
“WELL, DINNER WENT better than expected, didn’t it?” I asked Cole as we cuddled in bed.
He let out a slow chuckle in response. “Yeah. The night could have gone downhill fast after your daughter made her little comment.”
“My daughter, huh?” I asked as I gently punched him in ribs. “Why is she always my daughter when she is snarky?”
“Are you seriously asking me that question?”
I answered with a smile, “What were Violet’s exact words again?”
He picked up on our daughter’s inflections perfectly. “She said with an exaggerated eye roll, 'Oh man! Why didn’t I wear a dress? Grandmother ‘fess up. Come on. Is there a TV crew hiding in the kitchen? We’ve gotta be on a reality television show or something because dinner with you twice in a couple of weeks can’t really be real.' Did you see your mother’s face?”
“I did. She bit her bottom lip so hard I was shocked she didn’t draw blood. I can only imagine what she would have said. Thankfully she kept her mouth shut.”
“No, thank goodness for Walter. He diffused the situation quickly. I loved how he poked fun at Beatrice, and she let him do it. She even seemed to enjoy it. She's so different when she is around him.”
“I know.... Maybe there is hope for her yet.”
“As crazy as it seems, I think he really loves her,” Cole stated, as he gently rubbed my back. “At one point while you were talking to your mother about something or other, I couldn’t help myself. I asked Walter if he takes the pink pill or the blue one.”
“You didn’t?” I gasped.
“Yeah. I did.” Cole chuckled.
“And what did he say?”
“Good thing you are laying down,” he snickered.
“Tell me,” I whined as I sat up to stare at him.
“He said he doesn’t need either. All he has to do is hold her hand.”
“Aww… That’s so sweet.”
“I thought so too. But is that even possible? I say we test it out for ourselves,” he said salaciously as he grabbed a hold of my hand. Without skipping a beat, “Yep, it’s possible!” He pulled the nightshirt I was wearing off my body in one swift, fluid motion before he gently pushed me down on the bed, and kissed me passionately. He removed his own tee shirt before he tenderly, but forcefully, rolled me on top of him so my back was on his stomach. I was clearly able to feel exactly how possible it was.
***
From the first time I met Cole I felt safe and protected, which wasn’t surprising considering how we met. I was driving to my boyfriend’s house after work. Mitch and I had been dating for about nine months and I was running late, as usual. I had interned at my firm over the summers while in college, but technically I just started my career in marketing and hated to leave my office too early. I learned from watching my father if you wanted to succeed in business you couldn't be afraid to put in lots of hours at the office. Considering how much Mitch cared about his own career, he had no interest or respect for mine. Especially if my schedule interfered with his plans, as was often the case.
Mitch was a third year associate in a patent law firm. He had scheduled dinner for us with one of the senior associates and his wife. It took Mitch months to secure these plans. He was desperately trying to impress this man, and I knew it. I felt bad I didn’t leave my office earlier, but right as I was about to leave an upset client called me. I had to take the call. Fortunately, I was able to calm him down and resolve his problem. Unfortunately, the call took over a half hour.
I was less than a mile from Mitch’s house, driving in the middle lane of a busy street, right behind a landscaper’s truck when it happened. A mid-sized plastic bucket rolled off the truck, right into my lane. I wanted to swerve to avoid it but there were cars on both sides of me. I couldn't stop short, since there were also cars behind me. All I could possibly think to do was slow down and pray I would somehow manage to hit the side of the bucket and push it away from my car.
Well, that didn’t happen. I ran right over the bucket and the thick plastic got lodged under the front of my car. I managed to pull
to the side of the road, the bucket scraping the road underneath. I got out of my car and assessed the damage. “Crap,” I muttered to myself as I tried to pull the bucket out. It wiggled but I wasn’t strong enough to free it. I went back into my car and called Mitch.
“Where are you?” He snapped.
“About a mile away. I need your help. I sort of had an accident.”
“For God’s sake Annabel,” he spat out. “Can’t you be careful? We have dinner with Carl Peterson and his wife in half an hour!”
“Thanks for your concern, Mitch. I really appreciate it. I’m fine. Thank you so much for asking,” I said, not trying to hide my anger.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Are you okay?” He managed to ask although I could clearly tell by the tone of his voice his only concern was if we would be able to make our reservation in time.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I ran over a bucket and it’s stuck. I can’t drive like this. I’m just down the road. I need you to come and help me get it out.”
“You want me to pull a bucket out of your car? Have you completely lost your mind? You know we have dinner with the Petersons. I'm already dressed. In a brand new suit,” he clarified. “And you want me to get all dirty?”
“I want my boyfriend to help me when I have a problem.” I replied as a tear trickled down my right cheek. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask.”
“Annabel, you have Triple A precisely for times like these. You pay them a yearly fee so they can help you. Call them. I’m sure they can send someone equipped over to where you are to help you with your little situation.”
I said nothing. I couldn't speak. My mouth hung open in disbelief.
Mitch didn’t seem to notice or mind my silence. “You know where dinner is, right? Meet us there. I’ll make up some excuse for the Peterson’s as to why you're late. Who runs over a bucket anyway?”
If I had any doubts about Mitch before, his last comment squelched them. “No, Mitch. Come up with an excuse as to why I will not be at dinner.”
Plan Bea Page 5