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My heart is thundering out of my chest. Mr.s Caldwell hasn’t looked our way once. It’s painful how purposefully she’s angled her body and averted her gaze tonotlook at the three of us. Mrs. Williams is almost vibrating with unsuppressed irritation.
She takes a step closer to Justin, forcing the old bird's eyes to follow her.
"And I know you know Justin.” Justin’s mother puts a hand on his back. “And his husband, my son-in-law, Remington.” Mrs. Williams’s eyes flash, and her voice is smooth and pointed. “It’s been such a pleasure to welcome him officially into the family. Their wife Julia is being honored tonight for her work with the Children’s Hospital.“
Wife. Husband.
I like that way better thanfiancé. Justin doesn’t bother to correct the title, so neither do I. Frankly, I don’t think I could talk even if I were addressed directly. Butterflies are flapping away in my stomach, and my throat is clogged with emotion.
We filed the paperwork for the name change four weeks ago, next Monday. The first thing Mrs. Williams did tonight was to whisper in my ear that everything was in place for our ceremony in three weeks time.
Justin’s face is incandescent with happiness. He grips his mother’s hand and leans down to press a kiss into her cheek, then gives his undivided attention to the ice queen. The tension rises to an uncomfortably thick level. It makes my stomach twist with building nausea. I place my free hand over Julia’s, where she’s gripping my elbow, and I know she can feel how sweaty my palm is.
The old lady doesn’t look away. She meets Justin’s challenge glare for glare, the silence stretching until the air seems to vibrate with it. Then Mrs. Caldwell blinks and turns her head to look at Mrs. Williams again.
“It was so good to see you, Barbara. I’m having a get-together next month to start planning this fall's Family Values festival. I’ll send you an email with the date.”
She doesn’t bother to wait for Mrs. Williams's reply. She pivots on her heel and glides away in the opposite direction, her bevy of sycophants following in her wake.
“Feel good, honey?” Mr. William breaks the tension. His voice bounces with amusement. “She’s been hoping for the opportunity to let loose on someone for months,” he tells Justin with a grin.
Justin’s mother literally shakes herself, her hands flexing and her shoulders wagging side to side before turning around and facing her husband. Brianna covers her mouth with both of her hands in a failed attempt to smother her snickering. Her husband doesn’t even do that, laughing outright at the chaos his in-laws have created.
“Yes. As a matter of fact, that felt rather fantastic. I wish we had thought to record it. Or at least snap a picture of her expression. Gods, I wish I could be a fly on the wall when that bitch tells your mother.”
I have no idea what to say to that.
Nothing.
I have no words. The adrenaline from the aborted confrontation bleeds from my bloodstream so swiftly it makes me dizzy. My hands are shaking. I drop Julia’s arm and reach out for Mrs. Williams instead, pulling her into a hug so tight I have to relax my arms so as not to hurt her. Touching her in a way, I could never embrace my own mother.
“Thank you, Mrs. Williams,” I breathe into her hair.
She hugs me back and pats my cheeks in the most motherly fashion possible.
“Mom, Remi. It’s mom.”
The next gasp of air I suck in trembles with the edge of hysteria. Whether I’m about to laugh or cry is anybody’s guess.
“Thank you, mom,” I mumble into the top of her head.
There’s a distinctly Julia-sounding sniffle behind me.
“Did she just give us the cut direct?” Justin asks, snapping my impending breakdown off at the knees. Mrs. Will—mom pats my face again and pushes me back towards her son. Mr. Williams takes my place, pulling his wife so that her back is resting against his chest.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, discreetly wiping underneath my eye.
Husband…
“The cut direct?” Justin repeats like any of us have any idea what he’s going on about. We all shake our heads no. “It's when a person makes eye contact and shows you that they know you’re there and then ignores you completely.”
Julia and I glance at each other and then give Justin identical expressions of ‘what in the hell are you talking about?’
“You don't read enough historical romance,” he says with a sigh.
“I—”
“Well, well, well,” cuts me off from somewhere behind. “As I live and breathe. If it isn't Remington Lancaster the Third.”
