B & W are getting V and bringing her to the Dr. I hate it when you are right!
Instantly he replied:
Tough! Speaking of tough, you are tougher then you think. Act that way!
I took a deep breath and opened the conference room door. I walked back in feeling determined, invigorated, and hopeful.
With venom in his voice, John McGrevor, stared at me and bellowed, “Finally, you grace us once again with your presence. Anna, I really find it utterly rude and disrespectful you had the audacity to exit a meeting, with me! I am paying your firm to perform a service for me. I expect your full attention. Instead, what do I get? You walked out of this room to conduct a personal conversation! I can’t believe the level of disrespect. I hope you had a nice chat. Well if your actions don’t speak volumes about how you approach your work, I don’t know what does.” He paused to take a sip of water. “Given how this entire experience with your firm has been to date, I can’t really say I am surprised.”
All the adrenaline that had been pumping through my veins finally caught up with me, as did my husband’s text. I think for the first time in months I saw clearly. I finally understood what Cole, Cecelia, and Connie have been trying to tell me. I was my own worst enemy. And I was also a lot like my mother. I had lived far too much of my life scared. I had allowed myself to be crippled by my fear of being hurt or rejected. I’ve tried to bury my feelings and bite my tongue as a self-preservation method, but it didn’t make me happy. Instead it made me angry and bitter. When I finally did speak my mind, I always felt better. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes my mother had made. I didn’t want to wake up one morning and wish I had acted differently.
I didn’t plan my words. I just spoke from my heart. “With all due respect, John, I find your attitude a big part of our problem here. Yes, I had to excuse myself for a few minutes while I attended to a personal matter. You see, unlike you, I have my priorities in check. My child’s school called to tell me they think she broke her arm. I made arrangements for someone else to pick her up and bring her to the doctor so I could complete this meeting and support my team. I’m staying here despite the fact the only place I want to be right now is with my child. I know you are unhappy with how things have gone with my firm and I’m sorry. We’re only human, and although we try, we are not perfect nor will we ever be. I’m sure we have made mistakes along the way, but you have made some as well. You have been obnoxious and downright disrespectful to each and every person assigned to your account from day one. You have berated us over and over again. We should have completed this project months ago but we were unable to because every time you approved a concept three days later you changed your mind. Needless to say we are losing money on this account. But we are willing to see it through to completion, despite everything. That, John, is how we approach our work. But if you’d rather us just part ways now and leave, we can arrange that as well. The way I see it, the ball is in your court. You tell us what you want to do and we’ll be more than happy to oblige you.”
His eyes bulged. “Who do you think you are? No one speaks to me in such a manner.”
“Well, that’s probably part of the problem, someone certainly should have a long time ago,” Cecelia chimed in as she squeezed my leg under the table.
“This is unbelievable! I’m not paying you people to be insulted!”
“We’re not trying to insult you, John,” I clarified.
He rolled his eyes in response.
“If you feel like we are, then I truly am sorry.” I flashed him what I hoped would appear to be a sincere smile. “We were simply trying to explain there have been pain points on both sides since this project began. Where do you want to go from here?” I asked pointedly as I closed my notebook and picked up my briefcase. “Do you want to move forward or just part ways? It’s your choice. We’re fine either way.”
He cleared his throat, and then took another sip of water before he answered. “You’re really not giving me much of a choice, now are you, Anna? After all, I’ve invested a lot of time and money with your company. For me to start over from square one with another firm would be ludicrous. I don’t have the time nor do I want to throw more money down the drain. I need to get this project over and done with already. So, I guess we’ll just finish.”
“Okay, fine. But from here on out the rules of this game are going to change. From this moment forward, we’re going to need you to treat us with respect. Do you think you can manage that, John?”
He didn’t utter a word. He stared at me for a few seconds, and slowly he tilted his head ever so slightly to show his compliance.
“Splendid,” I said smugly. I pointed to the pitcher of ice water sitting in front of him, “You can start now by offering us a glass of water.”
CHAPTER 22
“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? You can’t possibly be serious! You’re not getting your nails polished in yellow!” Beatrice barked, as we stood in front of the enormous wall of nail polish shades.
My mother had gone to this salon for more years then I could count. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was one of their very first customers. I remembered as a little girl always accompanying her, usually with one or two of my girlfriends by my side. I loved getting my nails done as a child in wild, bright colors, and now, all these years later, I still did.
My mother changed her longstanding Thursday morning appointment and insisted Violet and I came with her for a manicure and pedicure the day before the wedding. I took off from work and picked Violet up from school early.
I winked at my daughter. “Why not? I think this shade would go perfectly with my dress and my new tan.” I answered, as I opened the bottle of the Essie polish and applied a thin coat to my pinky nail in an attempt to get a better gauge of the exact shade. Violet thrust down the neon pink polish she held in her good arm and focused her attention on both of us.
“Don’t be preposterous, Annabel. You can wear your far out colors any other day of the year, but not for my wedding. Don’t you want a nice, clean French manicure instead?”
“Not particularly. You know I like vibrant hues. How about this aqua?” I asked as I smirked at Violet.
Beatrice sighed deeply. “I don’t think so. I don’t like it any better than the yellow. What are you trying to do? Drive me batty before my big day? Must you always be so… difficult?”
“Mom, please! Is this really necessary? It’s only nail polish colors after all!” Violet said with quite a bit of sass as she rolled her eyes at me. “Do you really have to give Grandma more stress than she already has? She is getting married tomorrow remember? It’s her day, not yours. Can’t you just try to roll with the punches for once and make her happy?” My mother leaned down and kissed my daughter’s head.
There was nothing like being scolded by your child, especially when you knew she was right. Ever since my mom picked Violet up at school and brought her to the doctor’s office to treat her broken arm, Violet had developed a newfound love and respect for her grandmother. I was so thankful I listened to Cole and asked my mother for help. I just wished it didn’t take me so long to have done it. Maybe if I reached out to my mother sooner, my kids would have known they could count on her also.
“Fine,” I said with a smile. “I can argue with one of you ladies but not both of you at the same time.” I picked up a pretty, but pale, shade of mauve. “Will this work?”
“Finally, you’ve come to your senses. Thank you,” my mother replied as she picked up a sparkly shade of pale pink. “What do you think about this one, Violet? I think it would look marvelous with your dress.”
“I love it Grandma!” Violet said as she nodded her head. Then the three of us were ushered to the back of the salon. We had our pedicures first. Violet sat next to me and Beatrice sat across from us. We all were pretty much silent, lost in our own worlds. Violet was busy playing a game on her iPad, my mother was thumbing through a Vogue magazine, which she had pulled out of her gigantic Fendi bag, and I caught up
on work emails. Even though I took the day off I couldn’t stop myself from checking to make sure everything was under control. I gasped when I read the latest email from John McGrevor. Not only was he polite, he complimented my team on the new concepts we submitted to him late last night.
Once our toes were finished, we were then ushered to the manicure stations. We sat in a line, I was at the middle station and Violet was on the end closest to the window with her casted arm propped up on two pillows. I expected her to be gazing outside, but instead she kept her eyes closed as her fingernails were filed. If she wasn’t bopping her head to the Taylor Swift song playing on the radio, I would have thought that she was taking a nap. She probably was just trying to tune out the conversation my mom and I were having. I wish I could be so lucky.
For what felt like the fiftieth time in the last two days my mother was going over the agenda for tomorrow to make sure I had it all down pat. The wedding was to take place at eight o’clock at night. The dresses and tuxedos were going to be delivered to the country club in the late afternoon so we didn’t have to travel with them or dress in advance for our arrival. Beatrice wanted to avoid as many wrinkles as possible. She was taking a leap of faith and was allowing me to be in charge of getting my and Violet’s hair styled. This was a small miracle. I had to swear to her on Cole’s life we would be finished by four o’clock in the afternoon, at the latest. I also had to promise her I would make sure Violet wore a button down shirt to the salon to avoid any possible snafus come dressing time. And I also vowed that Violet would stay indoors afterwards to prevent any possible wind damage.
Beatrice was then sending a limousine to pick me up at five o’clock and another one to pick up my family an hour later. Although it should only take forty-five minutes for me to reach the country club, she wanted to allow for a little extra time just in case of traffic. Upon my arrival, my mom and I were supposed to do a full walk through of the club to make sure everything was exactly as she wanted. I really didn’t understand the purpose. If the napkins were the wrong shade what could really be done at that point? After all, the guests would soon be arriving. But there was no talking reason with my mother, so I didn’t try. I just agreed to all of her requests. It was much easier that way.
I glanced down at my nails. Although the color wasn’t my usual style, I was happy with how they came out. My mom was right. They would look better with my dress than the yellow I originally selected. I hated it when she was right.
The manicurists moved like precision swimmers. Practically in unison two of them grabbed my mom’s and my pocket books while Violet’s picked up her knapsack and escorted us all to the drying station, which was located at the front of the salon. As soon as we sat down, Beatrice exclaimed, “Oh my! I almost forgot, Annabel! Make sure to tell Connie and Patrick to arrive a little bit earlier than the invitation called for. I was thinking it would be nice if we included them in a picture or two, don’t you think since they are the children’s grandparents as well?”
I nodded my head and smiled. “Yes, I do, Mother,” I answered. “Actually it would mean a lot to me.”
My mom didn’t comment further about my in-laws. Instead she asked, “Now do we have to go over any of this again? Are you sure you have it all straight, Annabel? Timing will be everything tomorrow.”
“I think I’ve got it all committed to memory,” I replied with what I hoped was a straight face. I couldn’t help but wonder how many more times Beatrice planned to repeat the same thing to me over the next twenty-four hours.
“Even I’ve got it Grandma!” Violet answered. “And I’ve been trying not to listen to you. It’s not rocket science, ya know. Mommy’s smart. She can keep it straight.” Then she turned to the girl who did her nails. “Can I please have a ten minute massage?” For emphasis, she first looked at her broken arm and then she turned to face my mother and me before adding, “You have no idea how stressed I’ve been!”
CHAPTER 23
THERE WAS SOMETHING so relaxing about being in the back seat of a limousine, alone. Or, maybe it was just the fact I was alone that I felt so relaxed. Regardless, I was relishing in the silence. When the car came to pick me up I fully intended to go over the toast I wrote for Walter and my mother a few more times. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I already had my speech committed to memory. I definitely didn’t need any more practice. Besides, if I recited it one more time, it would sound forced, and that wasn’t what I wanted.
Uncharacteristically, I turned my phone off as well. I didn’t want any distractions. Instead I opted to just watch the scenery. Somehow, staring at the other cars and trees was mesmerizing me. I was extremely content. Today went smoother than I had anticipated. I was shocked; Beatrice only called me two times to make sure I had everything under control. She seemed much calmer than I expected. I can only pray she will manage to stay this way.
As the limo exited the parkway butterflies filled my stomach. I had no idea why I started to feel nervous, but I did. I took a few deep breaths to try and calm myself down; I closed my eyes. When I opened them we were already in the club’s complex.
The Glen Maple Country Club was definitely off the beaten path, by design. You could drive past the entrance five times before spotting the small white sign advertising the club’s existence. There was a hidden driveway, which led to a long, winding maple tree lined road. It was the most exclusive country club in Long Island, and my parents were two of the founding members. Brody and I both had our first birthday parties here. So many holidays were celebrated in the massive dining room surrounded by my parent’s closest acquaintances. My brother and I both learned how to swim in the enormous pool out back when we were toddlers. And we both took golf lessons here as well. I hated the sport and was awful at it. At first, Beatrice refused to let me quit. She was an avid player and she wanted me to follow in her footsteps. But eventually my lack of talent was an embarrassment to her. She really hoped Brody’s experience would have differed from mine but it was practically the same. Fortunately for him I paved the way. All he had to do was ask her to stop the lessons and she let him.
While I hated the sport, I always loved the look and the feel of the golf course. The grass was always so green and lush. The peaks and valleys offered so much definition, and the trees and flowers were always perfect. I had assumed the ceremony would take place outside on the course overlooking one of the many man-made lakes. However, when I suggested this to my mother she scoffed as if I suggested she get married on Mars.
The limousine came to a stop outside the clubhouse’s entrance. I grabbed the bag where I had packed the shoes Violet and I were going to wear, and said to myself “It’s show time.” The driver opened the door for me. I paused for a moment and stared at the massive brick building and thought of my brother. God, I wish he was here today, but in my heart I knew he was with us in spirit.
I walked up the marble staircase and opened the heavy wood door. As soon as I entered the building, I practically crashed into Walter. He looked like a nervous wreck. His hair looked like his hands had attacked it. He was pacing and muttering to himself while shaking his head from side to side. I prayed he wasn’t having second thoughts about tying the knot.
“Anna!” Walter exclaimed. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he rushed over and engulfed me in a huge hug. “Thank goodness you are finally here. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Walter, what are you talking about? Is something wrong?” Even though I haven’t known Walter for very long, I’ve never seen him act this way. I never would have pegged him for a man who’d get so flustered.
He snorted. “Something wrong? No! Everything is wrong!” He ran his hands through his thick white hair. “Your mother is having a meltdown. She is a complete and utter mess. I don’t know what to do. Every time I try to calm her down she freaks out more. I’ve never seen her behave this way. She is totally beside herself. She actually just kicked me out of,” he paused to make air quotes, “the bridal suite. She told me
to leave her alone and not come back until you were with me. So that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been waiting for you, and pacing. I really wish I didn’t quit smoking twenty-five years ago. I’d kill for a cigarette right about now! See how rattled the woman has made me?”
I’ve seen Beatrice in panic mode many times so I didn’t envy Walter. “Oh no. How long have you guys been here?” I asked as I glanced at my watch. Fortunately, for once in my life I was right on time.
“Too long, that’s for damn sure. She was too antsy to stay at home, so she insisted we come here earlier than planned. It was the worst decision ever!” Walter took hold of my hand and started walking fast. “Come on. I’ll bring you to her and then I am going to find the bartender and have myself a nice stiff drink, or two!”
Walter practically dragged me down the long corridor towards the winding staircase. Thankfully he released his grip as we walked up the staircase. He took the stairs two at a time, clearly he was in a hurry. I found it difficult to keep up with him. He stopped in front of one of the card room entrances. He knocked on the closed door, which I guessed correctly was temporarily transformed into the bridal suite. He didn’t wait for a reply. He opened the door but didn’t walk inside. He gave me a gentle shove into the room, and called out, “Beatrice, your daughter is here.” To me he said in a barely audible voice, “Good luck.” Then he turned around, and pretty much ran down the hallway.
My mother was sitting in a tall, red velvet wingback chair. Her back was to the door, and her head was tilted down. I rushed over to her and knelt down. “Mother! What’s wrong? You’re crying.”
My mom opened her arms and engulfed me in a hug. She kissed the top of my head. “Thank God you are here, Annabel. This is a disaster, darling! For months, we’ve worked so hard for this day, and now nothing has turned out right. All our work was for nothing!” Tears streamed down her face.
Plan Bea Page 19