“I would like to give a toast,” Lord Meade announces, standing up and raising his glass.
Cordelia and Tom groan, while Lady Meade smiles graciously at her husband. Jonathan gives an enthusiastic “Hear, hear” even though Lord Meade hasn’t said anything yet.
“First, to the cook, Thomas,” he begins, as there’s a ripple of laughter across the table at Tom’s expense. “What a success! We were all worried, but the starter of mozzarella and tomato was well presented, the mushroom risotto was edible, and the pudding, a shop-bought lemon tart, was the best of the lot. A lovely evening, thank you, Tom.”
Tom bows his head as we all cheer. He catches my eye across the table and smiles bashfully. At least, I think it’s bashfully. It seems bashful.
Whatever. He’s adorable.
“Next, to my beautiful wife, for all the hard work she’s done for the wedding, not to mention Christmas at Dashwell. I’ve never been so terrified of her in my life! She’s bulldozing through that job list, taking no prisoners! Well done, darling. And, of course, to Jonathan and Cordelia. The big day approaches. Don’t panic! I’ve been working on the speech and I promise I won’t embarrass you. Too much. In all seriousness, Jonathan, you’re already part of the family but we’re looking forward to making it official.”
“Still time to back out,” Tom mumbles, earning him a glare from Cordelia.
“And, last, to Emily,” Lord Meade says, everyone’s eyes on me.
I blush, hating the attention. Normally, when a bride’s parent mentions me by whatever name and character I’m playing, I hold my chin up, smile, and accept the thank-yous graciously, no hint of guilt, simply part of the performance.
But it’s different with this family. This mad, complex, dramatic, ridiculous, wonderful family.
“Emily, I don’t know why Cordelia’s been hiding you away, but I’m delighted that the wedding has forced her to share you with us, too.”
Jonathan interrupts with another hearty “Hear, hear!”
“It’s been a busy time with all this wedding nonsense—”
“Thanks, Dad!”
“Sorry, Cordelia, not ‘nonsense,’ you know what I mean. It’s been a busy time and I know that Cordelia has been able to lean on you, and that is the sign of a true friend. Not many people would run through Notting Hill dressed as Chewbacca to make it to a bridesmaid-dress appointment on time.” He pauses for laughter, while I bury my head in my hands. “You weren’t here last night, Emily, but your ears must have been burning. Cordelia was saying how lucky she was to have you.”
I look up at her in shock, unable to hide my true reaction.
“I know.” Lord Meade chortles. “I think that’s the nicest thing she’s ever said about anyone. Including Jonathan.”
“All right, wrap it up, Dad,” Cordelia instructs, before pointing at him and motioning a drinking action to Lady Meade.
“To conclude, I would like to toast to us, to family. Exciting times ahead! Cheers!”
Chair legs scrape backward as we all stand up, clinking glasses. The formality of dinner over, Lord Meade directs us all into thesitting room but, as much as I want to, I feel I can’t stay. While the others drift from the kitchen, I find my coat in the hall cupboard, reaching into the pocket for my phone to order an Uber.
“You all right?” Cordelia says, behind me, making me jump.
“Yes, thanks. I should be getting home. Lots of work to be getting on with. Thanks, though,” I add, getting the app up on my phone and requesting a car. “It’s been a really lovely evening.”
“Dad’s always enjoyed giving a speech,” she says, leaning on the banister. “Even when it’s just the two of us, he likes to round off the meal with a toast.”
“It’s sweet. It was really nice what he said. And, you know, what he said you said.”
“It wasn’t as smushy in the original context.”
“Did you say ‘smushy’?”
“You know what I mean.”
“You said ‘smushy’!”
“Why is that a big deal?”
“Because you got annoyed when I used the word ‘magical.’ ‘Smushy’ is even worse. It’s such a non-Cordelia thing to say.”
