“We can do this. And after, we’ll go for burgers and brews.”
His confidence is cute, but I’m not buying it. “Ugh, what’s so wrong with simple? Vanilla, chocolate, that’s good enough.”
“How about a carrot cake slab from the grocery store?” Dan winks. “That simple enough for you?”
“Honestly, yes,” I answer, leaning back in my seat. Waving my hand at the tray of small plates, I mutter, “All of this is just toomuch.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it, as if thinking better of what he was about to say. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he would be honest and tell me his opinion. Because the doubts I have about this wedding are growing bigger and bigger with every day that passes, and I need someone to tell me I’m not crazy for questioning if I should be going through with the marriage at all.
And I know every one of my friends would support me if I said I wanted to cancel everything. Heck, Willow already did when I told them I was engaged but I was worried it was a mistake.
Yet somehow, despite my doubts and misgivings, I’m still here, going through the motions. All the while wondering if this is going to turn out to be the biggest mistake of my life.
Chapter seven
Lark
Do I have to answer?
It’s sad that’s the first thought that crosses my mind when my phone rings and I see who’s calling.
But a lifetime of craving my mother’s approval means I answer.
“Hi, Mom.” I swirl the peppermint tea bag around in my glass cup, watching the water slowly darken.
“Lark, I heard from Ellen at the club that the Devereaux Hotel downtown has an opening for their larger ballroom. I took the liberty of contacting them and reserving it.”
My hand comes to a stop as I take a deep breath in. “We don’t need a larger room, Mom.”
“Nonsense. The guest list Cordelia and I approved won’t fit in anything less.”
She continues to prattle on about something someone at the club said, and I completely tune her out. Reaching for a bag of licorice, I pull out a few pieces, then pick up my cup of tea and settle into a large chair by the window in my living room. Nestling the phone between my shoulder and ear, I lightone of the many candles I have throughout my house. There’s something about the flickering warmth that soothes me. And Lord knows I need soothing right now.
Honestly, it’s no wonder my mother and Cordelia get along, they both enjoy ignoring anyone’s opinions but their own and deciding things for other people.
The difference is, I’ve spent most of my life letting my mother be this way. It seemed easier than the alternative, which came with never-ending guilt trips and reminders of how much my parents have done for me.
Tuning out her lectures has become a survival strategy. A carefully honed technique made up of sounds of acknowledgments, never fully agreeing or disagreeing to anything, and trying to avoid commitments whenever possible.
Letting her drone on might be time consuming and draining, but it became second nature for a child born to parents who never wanted kids for any reason other than status. A child like me.
“Lark? Lark! Honestly, are you even listening?”
My mother’s annoyed tone startles me back to attention. “Sorry, Mom. Could you repeat your question?” I wince, waiting for the huff. Yup, there it is.
“I said, I’ve decided to wear a navy blue dress, so please ensure your bridal party coordinates so there’s no clashing in photos.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” I’m mentally rolling my eyes. Forget bridezilla, I’ve got two mothers-of-the-bride-and-groom-zilla.
“Alright. I need to go, we’ve got a dinner at the club tonight to celebrate Howard’s promotion.”
I make a noise, as if I know who the hell Howard is, or evencare about his job status. “Okay. Bye, Mom.”
Tossing my phone down on the table beside me, I let my head fall back against the chair and close my eyes. I know not all parents are as exhausting as mine and Baron’s. I know not all families are more obsessed with appearances than anything else. I know normal families are capable of showing love and respect for one another.
I just don’t know what any of that feels like, having never experienced it myself.
Twenty-four hours later, I push open the door to the restaurant I’m meeting the girls at for dinner, my head still full of spiraling thoughts. I honestly don’t see how I can marry Baron, but I also don’t see a way out of it without having to face not only two very disappointed families but also a lifetime alone.
