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My mother grabbed my hand and squeezed, “It’ll be nice to have some girl time.”
“Sure,” I grimaced.
We arrived at Henry's, located in the heart of Boston. Henry's offered a luxurious and exquisite dining experience. The menu featured a selection of the latest innovative farm-to-table dishes using local, organic ingredients. It was easier to get in with a reservation, but our name opened doors.
Michael, the head chef, approached us once we were seated. In an ideal world, I could talk to him about stocking The Cookie Cove in the to-go portion of the restaurant, which offered refrigerated lunch options from Boston’s hottest restaurants. I knew they were looking for vegan desserts. I heard someone else talking about it at the Farmer’s Market, but it would never happen. Instead, I was stuck playing the role of a dutiful daughter.
"Regina and Rebecca, it is so good to see you."
We smiled.
"How are you, Henry?" I asked.
"Business is good, my wife is happy, so there is nothing to complain about. Happy wife, happy life."
Mother and I laughed in agreement.
"Congratulations on your engagement, by the way," Henry added.
"Thank you,” I said, glancing at my ring.
"I hope you and Mr. Steele can visit my restaurant soon." He beamed at me. "For you two, the best table in the house."
"That's very kind of you," I replied.
"I'm sure Rebecca and Sebastian will be here sometime this week," Mother said, pinching my knee under the table.
I nodded. “Sure thing! I’ll ask for you when we come.”
“Looking forward to it,” Michael replied before returning to the kitchen.
A server took our drink orders. Seeing Henry so happy with his business made my heart ache. How long will I have the joy of running a business I love? A few months? A few weeks? Maybe only a few more days? Against my better judgment, I decided to test the waters.
"Mother," I started once the server brought us a pitcher of water, "Have you ever thought of running a business?"
She nearly choked on her water. "Of course not, Rebecca. That is unbecoming of a woman of my status. Unless you mean owning the business and letting someone else run it." She paused for a moment, suddenly deep in thought. "However, I think that would be acceptable if it is the right sort of business. I can brainstorm some appropriate businesses for you to own. Maybe Sebastian will give you one as a wedding present."
My heart sank. I longed to explain to her that I didn’t want to be the face of a company. I wanted to get my hands dirty. I wanted to build something spectacular from the ground up.
"Don't get any ideas about playing an active role in whatever business he buys for you," she snapped.
“What about a restaurant or a bakery? You know I love to bake.” I held my breath as I waited for her answer.
"That's fine, but don’t even think about running around taking orders and doing dishes like some sort of scullery maid.” She wrinkled her nose. “That is beneath a Cavanaugh.”
I took a deep breath and blinked back tears. "What if that's what I want to do?"
"Rebecca, get a hold of yourself." She glared as she opened the menu.
"You're about to become a wife, so put those silly ideas out of your head,” she urged. “Also, don’t eat fattening foods before the ceremony. You can get fat once you have been married for several years,” she added with a smile.
I rolled my eyes and tried my best to communicate that I was ignoring her.
“You know, your great-grandmother was betrothed,” my mother began.
“Oh, that makes sense. Seeing as it was nineteen twelve!” I retorted.
My mother rolled her eyes and then snapped her menu shut.
