“Uh, well, thank you for your generosity,” I stammered. “Although we really just wanted a small, quiet ceremony at a quaint chapel we've found. My family isn't very big, so I'd rather not fuss over some huge party in the middle of Christmas season.”
“Don't be silly. No offense, dear, but the Carringtons have quite a big social presence. Our son getting married is sure to be the talk of Grant City, so we can't possibly have you marrying at the town hall like a couple of peasants.”
She laughed as if she'd just made a hilarious joke, which I incidentally did not find very funny.
“And if you're worried about inconveniencing guests, you could always push the wedding back a couple of months. Let all of this hoopla die down, you know.”
She gave me that look again; I understood what it meant. She was testing me, trying to see if I'd crack under pressure. Honestly, how could I possibly make up a good excuse on the spot for something like that?
“I wish we could, and that's what we'd do if not for this contract between Asher and Heath.”
She huffed and put the dress back on the rack, only to pick up an even more expensive one.
“Yes, the contract. I thought it was silly at first, and tried to talk my husband out of it.” She rolled her eyes. “But we've both been eager for Asher to settle down, and it seemed he never would on his own. So Heath worked that little marriage requirement in there if he wanted to keep his store.”
Macy scoffed at her mother as she rifled through the earrings. What was she doing here, anyway? She'd been awfully quiet the whole time, which wasn't like her from what I knew.
“I must admit, I'm surprised at the sudden change in him – not that I'm complaining. Why, before he announced his engagement to you, he told us he'd never fall in love, marry, or have children. Just last month, I kept seeing him around town with a different girl on his arm.”
Uh-oh. Our flimsy cover story was coming apart at the seams, and fast. Maybe we didn't think this through too well.
I buried my head in the dresses and pretended like I was looking for the perfect one. Hiding was useless; I couldn't escape Vivian's wrath now.
“That's why it's so funny, you see, that you're marrying now. Asher's seemingly turned from a playboy into a choir boy overnight.” She peered over the shelf at me. “And how long did you say you two have been together, exactly?”
So this was what people meant by their life flashing before their eyes. What was the right answer? What had Asher told her? Why didn't we get our lies straight before trying to pull this off?
“Stop harassing her, mom. Getting married is stressful enough without you adding to her problems.”
Macy strutted over and got between us while Vivian sputtered at her disrespect. She offered me a hint of a smile and held up a few bracelets.
“You're gonna need some sparkly stuff to go with that fancy gown, don't you think? Why don't we go over there and check out what they've got.”
I nodded, grateful that she'd pretty much just saved me from sudden death. When I peeked at Vivian through a gap in the hat racks, she wasn't looking through the dresses anymore. She looked pissed.
“Sorry about her,” Macy whispered, jangling the necklaces loudly as if to cover up her words.
“Huh?”
“She's being a psycho bitch because of you and Asher. No offense, but she's really not happy you two are getting hitched.”
I cowered behind a shelf, but could still feel her glaring at me. Jeez! Good thing we weren't getting married for real, because I could not live with this harpy as my mother-in-law.
“If she isn't happy, then why invite me dress shopping? Why offer to pay so much money for something she doesn't want to happen?”
Before Macy could answer, she was interrupted by Vivian chatting with a sales clerk.
“How about this one, ma'am?” The woman held up a dress for her to see.
“Gracious, no. I don't mean to be cruel, but... That's far too petite for her,” she said with disdain. “Do you have it in any plus sizes?”
Okay, that did it. Vivian was trying her hardest to piss me off, probably to get me to cancel the wedding. Now, it was starting to make sense.
Too bad for her my desire to keep Curiosities running was strong enough to withstand her backhanded insults.
Macy looked at her in horror. I studied her face, perfectly painted with makeup like some kind of celebrity, and wondered just what she knew about Asher and me.
“There's no way she's going to shell out what she claims,” she muttered, then put a finger to her lips. “Look. I know all about this plan of yours, but the secret's safe with me.”
I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or scared to death by this.
“I don't understand why you'd help us, especially me, given the 'issues' between our respective families.”
“Plenty of reasons. Asher's a jackass, but he's still my brother – and to be honest, he's worked super hard at Slicker Image these past five years. He totally deserves to keep it.”
“And the other reasons?”
She glared at Vivian, who was making quite a show as she perused the plus-sized dresses.
“Our parents are hiding something from us, and there's nothing more that I hate than a secret I don't know yet.”
Should I tell her about grandma and her grandfather, Charles? If I said something, and she learned the truth, it could tear the Carrington family apart.
It might tear mine apart, too.
