I was so upset after my dinner with Rosa that I didn’t even finish my food, so I brought it all home in a doggie bag. I was honestly shocked that such a fancy restaurant even had takeout boxes.
Now I’m pacing around the foyer, waiting for Evans to get home from work so we can talk about this. We have to be a united front. But what am I going to say to Evans?
I run my fingers over my hair to smooth it. I’m still in the navy blue dress and stockings that I wore to dinner, too preoccupied with my worries to even bother to change into something more comfortable. Not only did I “lose” my job this morning, my future mother-in-law wants Evans and I to have a lavish society wedding.
I thought I knew Evans better than this. He’s always been the one to stay out of the drama and away from the paparazzi. He made sure none of them came near me when I was pregnant and has continued to keep them away since Alfred arrived. He doesn’t read any of the tabloid coverage of his family, and he doesn’t have a Google alert on his name. He’s happy in his own little world, out of the spotlight. So there’s no way he could actually want this big wedding—is there?
I’m pretty sure I’ve worn a hole into the hardwood by now, with all of the pacing I’ve been doing. What is taking him so long?
Suddenly, I hear the familiar sound of the front door swinging open. Evans walks in with a huge bouquet of red roses and an equally huge grin on his face. “For you, sweetheart” he says, holding them out to me. “This is my way of making a formal apology.”
I smile, touched by the gesture. I take the flowers and inhale their scent. They smell amazing. “You’re not exactly forgiven, but they are beautiful.”
Evans smiles. “So, how did things go with my mom?” he asks. He looks at me expectantly, as though he thinks I’m going to rave about my wonderful evening.
“You should have told me when she first brought it up.” I frown. “It felt like you were going behind my back making all of these plans with your mother. Did you even think about me at all?
Evans winces. “I know. I’m sorry, Ciara I wasn’t sure what to do and thought it'd be best for you to hear her out on your own, in case you’d decided that you wanted a big wedding. But if you’re really against it, we can still just hit City Hall or some cheesy chapel in Vegas with an Elvis impersonator,” Evans laughs. I don’t think it’s funny.
“This isn’t a joke, Evans and I need more time to think about it. I’d like to be alone for a bit.” He steps forward like he wants to stop me, but the angry look in my eyes makes him pause. I take the flowers—it’s not their fault I’m frustrated with Evans— and head up to our room.
I sit on the edge of our bed, tracing my hands over the smooth silk bedspread as I consider my next step. I thought about calling Flora for advice, but I know she’s been really stressed about work lately and would hate to worry her more, so I call my mom instead. The moment she picks up, I explain everything, practically without taking a breath.
“Ciara, honey, calm down, it will all work out,” my mom says soothingly. “But I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve always wanted a proper wedding for you, with a huge princess dress and everything, but only if you wanted it too. This feels a little different.” She pauses. “Actually, this feels a lot different.”
“I know, Mom, and I don’t know what to do.” I pull at a loose thread on the bedspread, before flopping back on the bed. I groan into my pillow so she can’t hear how frustrated I am. That would only make her upset and I’m already upset enough for the both of us.
“After your father had his second heart attack, he said he wasn’t afraid to die. But he was sad that he probably wouldn’t get a chance to walk either of his daughters down the aisle.”
I blink a few times; my eyes are tearing up. I’d never thought that my father might be looking forward to my wedding one day.
“Oh my gosh, Mom.”
“I’m not telling you this to guilt you into having a wedding. I just want you to understand how a wedding impacts the whole family. I want to be there as you say your vows, and I’m sure Eva wants to be your maid of honor.” There’s a smile in her voice and I can tell she’s picturing her ideal version of the wedding. I’m sure her version is way less fancy than whatever Rosa has dreamed up.
“I know, Mom. I’ll think about all of this and let you know,” I answer. “Thanks for the advice. I love you.”
“I love you too, Ciara. Keep me posted.”
After we hang up, I let out a sigh.
After everything my father went through over the past few years, maybe a proper wedding would be just the thing for our family.