Do I want a few more minutes of peace? Yes.
Should I be letting my mother’s reactions to things affect my choices? Also no.
But also.
Peace.
“She’ll have the garden salad with the grilled chicken. Hold the garlic knot.” Caroline slowly plucks my menu while the waiter looks on with unease.
“I can’t believe she’s already pulling this shit,” Caleb mutters. He removes a pair of sunglasses that disguises none of his thoroughly wrecked hungover disposition and digs his palms into his eyes. Holly smiles sympathetically.
Liam gives my knee a tiny reassuring squeeze. “Get what you want.”
I swallow, avoiding the swell of awkward silence the table has fallen into. Mr. and Mrs. Kelly pick at their dinner rolls while my dad’s attention rests heavily on a TV in the back garden bar, playing highlights from the Bruins post-season run.
“The salad sounds fine, but I’d like the garlic knot, please.” I don’t want to start a scene in this restaurant. I’m too tired, and after the past two days and way too much airport food, greens probably wouldn’t be a bad thing.
I pick up my knife, twiddling it in the pads of my fingers and avoiding my mother’s stare.
Liam orders the ravioli, and my mouth waters. This area of Massachusetts used to be a heavy mill area where a lot of Italian immigrants ended up, so the Italian restaurants, like the one we’re currently in, are top-notch.
AndI got a salad.
Liam leans over to me, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Distraction time?” I shiver as his breath warms my neck, making my hairs stand on end. Too much into my reaction to him, all I can do is nod in response.
“PG or MA?”
Blushing, I pick my gaze up from the table and raise a brow, curious as to what the MA distraction would entail.
My brother stands up, clearing his throat. “I know tonight is about Evie, but while we have everyone here—Holly and I have an announcement we’d like to make.”
Oh dear god, now? Caleb, seriously?
“MA. MA,” I hiss.
“I know some of you were a bit skeptical when Holly and I announced that we planned to pull off this wedding in three months, and we appreciate all of the help. Mom and Dad, thanks for letting us use the backyard. Mr. and Mrs. Kelly, thank you for being so cool about the mess of a road we’re about to have with parking. And well, I just wanted to say, the speed will be worth it since Holly and I are going to be busy taking care of a baby in five months.” If Caleb didn’t look like he partied with death himself last night, I imagine his face would house a wide and cheerful grin right now instead of the grim line with a faint upward twitch he’s wearing.
“Oh, that’s so exciting.” Mrs. Kelly claps her hands, feigning like this is a surprise.
“You don’t say,” Mr. Kelly adds, buttering his dinner roll.
My dad grunts. Whether it’s at the announcement or his favorite hockey player getting thrown in the penalty box, I don’t know.
And my mother . . . I wince, gearing up for whatever is about to hit the fan. Lips pursed, she brings her wine glass to her mouth and demurely sips on her cabernet. Not a stray hair, or emotion, out of place, all tucked safely away under a layer of hairspray and repression.
Caleb and I blink at her, waiting in anticipation. I reach for a dinner roll.
“Yes, well, I’m glad that after no more than six other people congratulated me on my first grandchild, my son finally had the decency to tell me.” At least she’s not throwing shade at me, I guess. “Lord knows they weren’t talking about Evelina expecting.”Never mind.“Sweetheart, don’t pick at the rolls. Harry, would you like another? Here.” She moves them toward the other end of the table.
“Speaking of marriages—” My mother turns her attention to me.
I don’t meet her gaze, narrowing on the red and white checkered tablecloth draped across the wooden table. “We weren’t actually—”
“Should we keep the tent up for another backyard wedding?” Her perfectly manicured hands reach across the table and fall on mine. “You know we’re so happy you two finally put your differences aside and figured it out. This is exactly what Nana wanted for you.”
My lips press into a thin, harsh line. Scowling whenever Nana is involved feels disrespectful, but I can’t help it after my mother’s petty invocation of her. “It’s been less than a month.”
“Oh hush, you two have been attached at the hip since you were five. Do you remember their little backyard wedding, Natale? Wasn’t that the cutest?”
