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“I think Mum might have gotten a bit carried away,” he says uncomfortably. “She does that sometimes. She means well, though. Just wants to make sure everyone has a good evening, you know?”
I nod slowly, then turn to follow Rose upstairs, feeling like there are rocks in my shoes, weighing me down.
I told my parents it would be just a casual get-together, like Kathryn said. They were nervous enough aboutthat; God knows how they’re going to feel when they realize there are ‘caterers’ in attendance.
I really hope Mum doesn’t bring some of that mint chicken she likes to make.
I shake my head, trying to pull myself together.
It’ll be fine, I’m sure. It’s just a few drinks with the people we love most in the world, isn’t it? How bad can it possibly be?
Chapter 11
Things to Do Before the Wedding: FINAL final list
Find dress of dreams.
Sort hair.
Join the gym
Decide on menu for wedding breakfast.
Ask Frankie to be Maid of Honor.
Ask Rose NOT to be Maid of Honor.
Somehow befriend Jack’s parents.
Figure out who’s sending anonymous messages, and if they’re true.
Write a book.
Survive the meeting of the parents.
I go downstairs at the appointed time, tugging nervously at the hem of my dress, which is the fifth one I tried on, having absolutely no idea what to wear for something like this. Mostly because I’m still not 100%n sure what “this” is, exactly.
Who gets the caterers in for a few drinks with the parents, after all?
(Answer: Jack’s mum, apparently. And I’m guessing other very rich people.)
In the end, I settled on a simple black dress; which I instantly regret as soon as I walk into the living room and find Rose and Kathryn waiting, both looking red-carpet ready in expensive looking cocktail dresses and tasteful — but sparkly — jewelry.
“Oh, Emerald,” says Kathryn, looking at me in surprise. “What aninterestingdress. Very… simple.”
“It’sclassic, Mum” says Rose. “And Emerald can wear anything, anyway. Look how gorgeous she is.”
She smiles at me, and I give her a weak grin in return, accepting the olive branch she’s clearly offering.
Either that or she’s actually just being nice, like McTavish said?
God, I wish I could figure her out.
The doorbell rings, and I jump as if I’ve been shot.
“I’ll get it,” I say, running to let Mum and Dad in, and stopping in my tracks when I open the door to find a completely different couple standing there instead. This day just keeps getting weirder.
“Oh, look, it’s the Armstrongs,” coos Kathryn, coming to my rescue. “Well, let them in, Emerald; don’t just stand there.”
