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“It’s a high school relationship. We know how those work out.” She rests her clutched hands in her lap, her legs crossed at the ankle, a serene smile on her face. “Leslie is lovely. Sweet. Well-mannered. Cultured. She will become a perfect wife for someone someday. I’m hoping that someone is you.”
It’s funny how the older generation Lancasters are always trying to match their children with someone for future marriage and it never works.
Like ever.
“I’m not looking for a wife,” I say vehemently. “I’m only eighteen.”
Mother’s gaze lifts to mine, her expression smooth. Not bothered by my raised voice in the least. “Oh. Well, you should be looking for someone. Eventually. This girl is well-heeled. You best snag her up before someone else does.”
“You talk about her like she’s a dog.”
The tiniest frown forms on her face. “That’s rude, Archibald, and you know it. You shouldn’t refer to women as dogs.”
I roll my eyes. “And you shouldn’t describe them as if they’re a prize for a man to win either.”
I could really use my father as backup right about now but he left the living room right at the same time I was about to. He was just lucky enough to get away.
“As the first-born son and oldest, I feel it is partially my responsibility to ensure you marry someone who’s from good stock. Someone who isn’t interested in you just for your money.”
All the hairs on my body seem to stand on end at her words—and the meaning behind them. “Are you referring to someone in particular?”
Thick and imposing tension fills the room the longer neither of us says anything. Edie chooses that exact moment to sneak out, leaving Mother and me completely alone.
“I know you’re involved with someone currently,” Mother finally says, clearing her throat. “And I know she doesn’t come from—much.”
I immediately feel defensive of her criticizing Daisy. “You don’t even know her.”
“I don’t need to. I’ve got her all figured out. A sweet, smart girl with no mother and no feminine guidance. Her father is the groundskeeper at the school. We allowed her to attend for practically nothing and this is what I get for our charity.” Mother waves a hand in my direction. “My son screwing around with the help.”
I clench my hands into fists, anger boiling my blood and leaving me hot. “She’s not thehelp. And we’re not screwing around either.”
“Tell me what it is then, hmm? I have eyes and ears on that campus, my darling. I know what’s going on. Your father and I both know, even about the things you never bring up. Matthews keeps us informed in regards to your behavior. Your guidance counselor keeps us up to date on your grades. Which have slipped, by the way.”
“I know,” I say through clenched teeth, flexing my fingers before I curl them back into fists. I’m tempted to punch a wall but I keep my anger in check.
“I’m sure this young lady—Daisy—is a perfectly nice girl, but she’s not for you, Arch. Don’t lower your standards.” The serene smile is back, that impenetrable mask Mother wears so well. “I look forward to you having an open mind this evening when you meet Leslie. Do you understand?”
My spine stiffens and I glare at her, my mind automatically shutting down at her words. “Understood.”
Fuck this.
THIRTY-FIVE
DAISY
The weekend draggedon for what felt like forever. I thought I needed time away from Arch so I could think. A little distance seemed necessary after everything that happened between us—and how we got caught by my dad. Plus, I didn’t know what to say to Arch. Should I apologize? Tell him that my dad is mad at me? At him?
At us?
I wish my father knew Arch like I do. He’d change his mind if he got to know him, I’m positive.
Early Saturday morning I woke up thinking I should invite Arch over so we could all talk but the first thing I saw on my phone was a text from him.
Arch:Have to go see my parents with E for the weekend. Talk soon?
Disappointed that he left, I sent him a quick response.
Me:Sure. Have fun.
