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“Thank you, Georgia,” my mother replies.
As we walk toward the dining room, Brianna looks around at the paintings on the walls and the rich vases brimming with flowers. I can tell that she’s impressed, and I clutch her hand tightly. I feel the ring there on her finger, and it fills me with pride.
“There are place cards,” my mother says. Of course, there are. There are only ten guests, but still, everything must be orderly. Grandpa and Grandma aren’t here, but my uncle and aunt with my two cousins, as well as Rebecca and her husband Lewis, are.
Thank God my mom had the good sense to seat me next to Brianna because she’s been known on occasion to split people up, just to make them uncomfortable. A few days ago, I called to confirm with her that I’d be attending the anniversary and to give her my travel arrangements. I mentioned I’d be bringing someone but left out the fact she was my fiancée in conversation. Seeing the shock on all of their faces was worth it.
Seated at the table, I put my hand on Brianna’s knee. Her leg is warm and soft and I stroke it back and forth tenderly. I can tell she likes the feeling of it because she puts her hand over mine again. There has been a lot of touching, and it feels so right, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds.
Brianna then does something that really surprises me. She must be just as comforted by the touching as I am because she gingerly moves my hand from her knee to her inner thigh. I look at her in amazement considering we’re surrounded by my family. This is getting intense.
“I hope that you don’t have any dietary restrictions,” my mother says, looking at Brianna, who’s smiling.
“I don’t,” Brianna says sweetly.
“Good, then we’ll begin with the first course.”
Chilled pea soup is followed by a salad, lamb with roast potatoes, and then a pear tart for dessert. The food is impressive, but the whole time I can’t stop thinking about the thigh that I’m holding onto.
There’s talk of the financial market by my father, Tanner discusses his trip to Aspen, my mother talks about her charity work, and all this talk goes in one ear and out the other. They’re all trying to one-up each other, and I have nothing to add to the conversation. I can only think of Brianna. She’s the best distraction I’ve ever had.
“Tell us about you, Brianna. Considering you’re apparently a part of our family now,” my mother says begrudgingly. I don’t make eye contact with her, knowing she’s fuming over all of this. I almost burst into laughter, but don’t dare give my tall tale away. I’m actually happy for a discussion I care about. I know Brianna was put on the spot, and I hope that she doesn’t feel too intimidated by it.
“Well, there isn’t a whole lot to say, really,” Brianna says, and I clutch her thigh tighter. That couldn’t be any further from the truth. It seems like my touch fills her with courage because she goes on. “I grew up in Whitefish, and I’ve lived there all my life. I really do love it, but these days I’m the only one around to take care of my father, so it’ll always be home.” Brianna smiles warmly, showing grace in the face of what has to be an immensely challenging situation.
My father smiles sincerely and even my mother softens a bit.
“And how did you two meet?” my father asks.
Brianna and I look at one another and laugh. The funny thing is that in all that time getting to know one another and preparing, we hadn’t come up with a solid story. It was going to take a bit of improvisation. Brianna dives right in, and I’m impressed with her quick response.
“I work at the Whitefish Café, and one day when Tate was there, I was having a tough shift. I dropped an entire tray of dishes onto the ground, and Tate ran over and helped me picked them all up! I asked him how I could thank him, and he said by having coffee with him.”
I glance at her and smile, though the story isn’t entirely accurate, it’s half right.
Everyone around the table smiles, but my mother knits her brow. My mother would never approve of my fiancée working at a café. Williams’ don’t have mediocre jobs like that.
“A charming story,” my father says, and the rest of my family nods their heads. It’s funny, the longer she talks, the more the mood shifts and I can’t help but thank Brianna for that.
Coffee and tea are served, and the men excuse themselves to the library to smoke cigars and drink brandy. It’s like we’re stuck in the 1800s or something.
“I’m proud of you, son,” my father says, puffing on his Cuban stogie.
“Why?” I ask, thinking there isn’t much to be proud of.
“Your fiancée seems like a fine woman,” he says, producing a donut-shaped cloud of smoke from his mouth.
“She is,” I say.
“I like her, too. She’s hot and perfect for you,” Tanner says, and I can’t believe my brother has actually said something positive in regards to me.
“I’m sure your grandfather and grandmother will be happy to meet her tomorrow,” my father says.
“Eden will be happy to meet her too,” Tanner says abruptly, twirling the brandy in his glass. I give him a sharp glare. It’s just like my brother to bring up something like that. “And Thomas.”
“The happily married couple. I can’t wait. Maybe I can finally congratulate them,” I snicker.
My brother laughs. “Happily married?”
