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 Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 2:46 pm
“Have you thought about setting a date yet?” an animated voice asked.
For most women, there were two subjects that tended to send them off in a spiral of gushing and squealing and the sort of girlish hysterics that left most men highly confused—that being the subjects of weddings and babies. For a good percentage of the female population, these things presented them with the opportunity to giggle and dreamily sigh and face the future with bright-eyed anticipation. Some even spent their entire lives fantasizing about what their adulthood would include, flowing gowns and diamond rings and the diapers and booties that might soon follow.
This was certainly the case for Claire Gallo, who’d responded to the recent engagement between their children with the necessary amount of squealing and exuberant joy, babbling in excitement about flowers and dresses and honeymoons, running head first into the planning without even waiting for either of the two involved to get a word in edge-wise.
Marissa’s response, on the other hand, had so far been entirely different. She wasn’t the sort to be overcome with emotion over the idea of weddings and babies, nor had she ever spent much time thinking of either of the two in her youth—with varying results. She had smiled, and hugged her son, and given them both her blessings, and reassured them that she was completely okay with it, and then she’d proceeded to move on to other things as if this wasn’t such a life-changing experience at all.
It was easier than freaking out about it, even though there was a part of her that wanted to dig her heals in and say “no,” and then pitch a mature and dignified fit when Paris looked at her sadly and begged and begged until she caved under the sort of “But Mommy~”s he used to voice when he was little. So what if he didn’t call her “Mommy” anymore? He was still her kid and she’d look at him like this tiny little thing with big eyes and round cheeks streaked with fat crocodile tears if she wanted to.
Babies had no business getting married (few people had any business getting married, in her opinion, but kids and babies least of all), and her baby was sitting on a fancy couch in the fancy sitting room of a fancy house in Boston, snuggled up with his fiancé and talking about marriage
It was a tough pill to swallow.
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 2:47 pm
Paris hardly noticed that there was anything bothering his mother, distracted as he was by said fiancé on said fancy couch in said fancy sitting room of said fancy house in Boston.
Boston had a way of muddling with his head and making everything seem infinitely better than it did in Destiny City, and if being engaged to Chris in Destiny City had seemed like one of the most amazing things in the world, it stood to reason that it seemed and felt even better while they were out of Destiny City in the safety of a place that had only served to entice him with its relative peace and tranquility the last time he’d visited a month ago. Christmas had been spent in much the same manner as Thanksgiving, safely ensconced in the Gallo house in Boston with Chris’s family, letting Momma coddle and gush, listening to Peter whine and complain, and becoming better acquainted with Chris’s grandparents in the times between snuggling with Chris, making out, or else disappearing to their bedroom for a while and having a little private celebration of their own.
If they were already married, Paris supposed this was what people would refer to as the honeymoon phase, that period of time when everything seemed wonderful and nothing could go wrong and married life seemed truly magical. This premature show of it they’d been hit with was nearly as powerful, and it left Paris feeling alternately thrilled and overwhelmed, utterly delighted by this change in his relationship with Chris but beginning to realize just how much was ahead of them.
Momma Gallo’s constant need to bring it up made it even less avoidable.
“Um… I don’t really… know,” he said, looking up at Chris to check and see if he’d thought about it at all before spouting off any sort of definite answer. “I mean, I guess I didn’t think we’d be engaged for very long?” he tried.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother shift in her chair, fiddling with her phone and purposefully avoiding eye-contact with anyone else in the room. She’d joined them the day after Christmas, which she’d spent in New York with Rhiannon and Cal and Lilah and Cal’s parents, introducing them to their granddaughter before she and Rhiannon were being encouraged up to join the Gallos’ festivities by Momma. It wasn’t really very awkward now that he was used to having her back in his life, but she seemed distracted and not quite comfortable with the goings-on.
Paris explained it away as a mix of discomfort from such lavish surroundings and also missing Lilah, who’d remained in New York with Cal, and tried not to think of it as anything more than that.
“You’ll need to make a decision soon if we’re to send out announcements and invitations,” Chris’s grandmother said.
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 7:21 pm
Rhiannon felt totally and completely uncomfortable in the home that apparently belonged to her cousin’s boyfriend’s grandparents. Fiancee, rather. She’d found out a little earlier on in the week that her cousin had indeed been proposed to and was surely going to be living it up in the lap of luxury, if this home had anything to say about it.
Home was an understatement. It was more like a miniature palace that had been crammed into the confines of a city street address. She felt sick to her stomach if anything, and had so far spent the visit curled up in a secluded corner of the room with her nose buried into the pages of a book.
It was strange. She didn’t know what to expect from these people and it put her off guard to the point where she really just wanted to pretend to be sick and hide in the large guest bedroom they had given to her to use. The fiance’s mother kept fussing over her, wanting to make sure she was comfortable and had enough pillows and had enough to eat, while the grandmother practically forced tea and little pastries into her hands.
She had finished most of it and was now doing her best not to look like she was paying attention to what was going on in the conversation that was taking place.
”We could also rent out billboards around the city, but I’m not sure what would have more of an impact — Boston or Destiny. It’s not like they know many people, so we’d probably need at least a dozen to make sure people knew,” Michael offered, lounging on one of the overstuffed, straight backed chairs that were probably from the eighteen hundreds and used primarily for formal gatherings, but with so many people coming and going, grabbing a chair while it was open was all one could do.
Peter cackled in amusement from where he played some video game in front of the fire. He’d been allowed his electronic devices so long as he was in the same room as the rest of the family. But Michael? He was trapped there on threat of having his trust fund revoked.
Typical of his grandmother to threaten such things when she pulled the strings in the family’s wallet.
His comment apparently wasn’t as amusing for her, seeing as Nana turned to scowl at him. “We’ll be sure to do that for you once you decide to stop being a chronic bachelor,” she agreed, and Michael wondered if the lace around the neck of her dress was itchy and why women wore such ridiculous things.
A hand lifted to scratch at his own neck at the mere thought of it, snorting lightly. “Please... there’s nothing wrong with being a bachelor,” he pointed out, before flashing a grin over at Marissa. “Isn’t that right? So don’t be so insulting, Nana. Jeez.”
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 7:22 pm
Peter snickered again, although he kept his head down and out of trouble for now. His father had promised to take him to the planetarium later, and he was definitely looking forward to that. It wasn’t often that they got to spend a lot of time with their father, seeing as he was away so often, but holidays definitely made things better.
Besides, it wasn’t as though anything they said would make Christopher change his mind. Once the guy had something in his head, he wouldn’t budge, and he’d already said he didn’t really want a big event, despite the number of people in their family.
”Uh... I wasn’t really sure, either,” Chris admitted lamely as he sat with Paris on one of the couches in the living room of his grandparent’s home. “But really... we don’t need announcements and things like that, do we?” said, directing the question at Paris. It was difficult being on the same page with him when they hadn’t exactly discussed these things.
Yeah, he probably should have been thinking ahead to the time and date and all that other important stuff, but he had been kind of distracted with getting the proposal out of the way. Hell, he hadn’t even been positive that Paris would say ‘yes’.
“Nonsense, you’ll have announcements and invitations. It’s only proper and polite,” Nana insisted while his mother whimpered in the background. She obviously wanted to help, but didn’t want to butt in too much. It always made Chris feel bad when he wouldn’t let her do what she wanted to the extent she wanted to do it, but... he really, really didn’t think it was necessary for them to announce everything and have a big event.
“Please...” he practically begged, already feeling exasperated and worn out by the process. He just wanted to disappear into his and Paris’s room for the rest of their vacation and not deal with things like planning weddings and picking dates.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 8:20 am
“We can’t really pick a date until we know where we’re going to get married anyway, right?” Paris wondered.
Every once in a while he would glance up at Chris as if to silently ask “what do you think?” or “what should we do?” or “I really have no idea what the hell is supposed to happen now,” but they hadn’t quite managed to perfect the art of speaking to one another with their eyes so he wasn’t sure how well any of that came across.
This was the part of being engaged that he didn’t really like. Actually, this was probably one of the parts of being engaged that had caused him to dislike the idea of weddings and marriage so much, aside from the fact that the only marriage he’d had any care for in the first ten years of his life had ended. When he’d said “yes,” he hadn’t been thinking too much about what would follow—announcements or invitations or whatever sort of ceremony they’d inevitably decide on. He really just liked the idea of being married. He didn’t care how or when it happened so long as it finally did.
“We can’t get married at church,” he reminded them, which caused Momma to look crestfallen and Nana to mutter something about petitioning the Vatican. “I’m not Catholic anyway… and, well…”
“You’re not Catholic?” Nana wondered, suddenly looking at him with a sharp, critical eye.
Paris suddenly felt as if he’d said the wrong thing and inched a bit closer into Chris’s side. “Um… no?”
“Protestant then,” she observed, shaking her head as if this was quite a shame. “Methodist? Baptist?”
“N-Neither?” Paris tried. He had no idea what the correct answer was or why it should even matter when Nana wasn’t even always the “best Catholic” in the bunch, but then she was weirdly picky like that. “I was sort of into Paganism for a while, but now I don’t know. I guess I’m mostly just agnostic?”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Nana said, and brought her hand up to her chest like she was relieved.
Paris didn’t really get it at all. “But… um… we don’t need a big wedding,” he hesitantly continued. “I don’t have a big family, and the ones I do have probably wouldn’t bother to come anyway.”
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 8:23 am
“Rhiannon and I will be there,” Marissa said, loath as she was to see her baby get married when he was only eighteen. She spared a concerned glance over toward Rhiannon in the corner of the room, before looking back over at Paris and trying to impress upon him the importance of not ignoring the family he did have. “Cal will, too. And Lilah.”
“Lilah’s a baby, Mom, she doesn’t really count,” Paris interrupted.
Marissa restrained a heavy sigh and continued, “Some of our old neighbors would show up. And your friends. You should probably have the wedding in Destiny City instead of Boston. Most of your friends are still in school or couldn’t afford the trip.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Chris’s grandmother Abigail scoffed. “We would, of course, pay their travel expenses.”
Not wanting to insult Abigail’s generosity—if it could even be called “generosity;” part of her thought it was just Abigail wanting to have her way—Marissa said nothing to dispute that just yet. In the end, the wedding would be held wherever Paris and Chris wanted it to be held, and so any sort of debate about it was probably rather pointless.
She did, however, bristle at the sudden idea of the Gallos’ paying for everything, focusing on the conversation now that she was studiously ignoring any looks Michael might be shooting her way. It was rather hard to pretend he wasn’t in the same room with her when he kept trying to get her attention, but she was doing a pretty good job of it.
“I’d like to pay for Paris’s half,” she said.
Paris rolled his eyes and shifted uncomfortably while huffing something like “Chris and I can just pay for it ourselves if it’s going to be such a big deal.”
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Posted: Sun Jan 13, 2013 1:28 pm
It was nice to be included in things, even if Rhiannon didn’t think it was all that necessary. Whether or not she received an invitation to this wedding or party or whatever... it would be up to Paris, not Marissa, as much as she appreciated her aunt’s attempt at including her.
She didn’t mind, either way, and kept her nose in her book, perfectly fine with being antisocial while the others were discussing important family things. Well, Paris was her family too, but... they hadn’t spoken all that much in such a long time. They’d both changed.
But she certainly didn’t need people to be paying for her travel expenses...
Paris’s cousin had been rather quiet since she’d arrived, and while he was trying not to get himself in trouble, he couldn’t help but be curious about her. While everyone else was talking, Peter inched his way towards where she was seated, peering curiously at her.
“Do you like reading?” he asked when she finally glanced up at him. His question was returned with a blink of confusion and a nod. “Why?” he persisted, pulling himself up to perch on the arm of the seat she was sitting in. “You don’t talk much,” he observed when she responded by shrinking down in her seat a little more and shrugging. “Do you not like to talk? Do you find people annoying? Do you not talk because you don’t know us or because you find us annoying? We’re not always like this. Well, Nana is. Be careful around her. She’s a liar and a fraud.”
He figured since no one else was going to include her, he might as well clue her in to some of the things going on. “You’re going to be my... cousin-in-law, right? Cousin-once-removed? Can I just call you my cousin? I think it would be easier like that, anyway. Do you like video games?”
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Posted: Sun Jan 13, 2013 1:29 pm
”Come off it, Nana,” Michael snorted, his arm holding up his head as he propped his elbow against the armrest, one leg over the other armrest. “Does it really matter? And how come Chris is getting all this? You gonna pay for my wedding too?” he teased with a grin. His snark clearly came from his grandmother.
“I didn’t think you were interested in getting married, Michael,” Nana responded with a cold frown, “And if you keep it up, I won’t be paying for anything. Not your car, nor your house, not your boat, not your motorcycle.”
“Hey, that motorcycle I bought all on my own!” he countered with a frown of his own. “I do have a job, and I was in the Navy.”
“Until you quit! And you got your job because of my connections-”
“Because of my own intelligence, Nana! You had nothing to do with it!” he sputtered, appalled that she would take credit for his own genius.
“Please! If you wanted to make use of your intelligence, you would have applied to an underprivileged school instead of teaching Ivyleague-wannabes!” Taking his grandmother and brother’s sudden argument for his own advantage, Chris readjusted himself as he sat next to Paris. “We should have just eloped,” he muttered against his fiance’s hair as he leaned in to give him a comforting kiss on his head. It definitely would have solved the problem of trying to come up with... dates and invitations and all this other nonsense.
“We should just go to the courthouse and get it over with... or if we wanted to have a reception, we could always push it back a couple months...? Not too long, but... enough to give people notice...” Such as letting his father have enough time in advance to get a day or two off work. “But I don’t want to wait forever, and definitely not past spring...”
“Pumpkin, that gives us hardly any time,” he heard his mother whimper. She clearly had really wanted a wedding, and while there would be no church ceremony (he wouldn’t make his mother sit in a protestant church because of him), he figured the least they could do was let her have her party afterwards...?
“Mom... Paris and I don’t need anything fancy... We just... want to be married,” he said with a shrug and turning to look at Paris once more, hoping he was okay to speak for him as well.
“So modest, just like your father.” It was Nana’s turn to speak, clearly done with Michael after having scolded him about not sitting properly, and then making veiled threats about cutting off his trust fund. Her comment left Michael snorting in disbelief, and Peter laughing. Chris did his best to ignore them, though he thought her comment had been ridiculous as well. He just... didn’t want anything big and fancy.
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 7:48 pm
Paris was really beginning to agree with the whole “should have eloped” idea. If he’d actually thought ahead that night Chris had proposed, he might have suggested they just get on with it then and there, because this back and forth was beginning to give him a headache, and they hadn’t even gotten into very many of the details yet.
He wasn’t used to having a large family yet—and these people were his family now, or at least he considered them so whether or not they legally were. It was much different with so many people involved, he decided, than it would have been if Chris’s family had been more like his. Paris was used to his opinion being the only one that really mattered; he’d been an only child until Lilah, and neither of his parents had been particularly restrictive. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted.
Slowly, over the last two years, that had changed. Now there were other opinions that mattered, to varying degrees, and he knew he needed to take them into account whether he wanted to or not.
That was the mature, adult thing to do.
Sometimes he really hated trying to be mature and adult.
“Is three months enough time?” he tried.
This time it was Momma Gallo who lifted her hand to her chest, but she didn’t look relieved. “Three months?” she said on a gasp. “It takes six to nine months to order a gown, Precious.”
“I… I’m sorry, what?” Paris paused and shook his head to try and clear it. “Who said anything about a gown? I’m not wearing a gown.”
“You’re not?” Momma Gallo’s voice sounded sad and weak and lost.
Paris tried his best to be sympathetic, but really he just wanted this conversation over. He knew it had to happen at some point, that there were questions that needed answers and plans to be made if he and Chris intended to go through with this, but the more he thought about it the more he just wanted to curl up into a ball in the corner and try to fade away. The stress of it was already getting to him and it hadn’t even gotten to crunch time yet.
“I mean…” he tried to explain himself, “I guess I’d wear a dress since I do anyway, but I didn’t really think about a wedding gown since it’s just not really very… me. I want to get married, but I don’t really do weddings, Momma.”
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 7:50 pm
“You don’t have to wear a gown,” Marissa chimed in before any of the others could argue. “I didn’t wear a gown.”
She hadn’t even worn white.
If Paris was getting stressed out by the conversation, Marissa was beginning to feel progressively more uncomfortable about the entire thing. It wasn’t that she thought it was a bad idea. Sure, her marriage hadn’t lasted for a variety of reasons, but she didn’t let her experiences cloud her judgment or alter her perspective on things—or at least she didn’t think she did. As long as Paris was sure that this was what he wanted, as long as both he and Chris had actually put some thought into it, she figured it was worth it to them to do it and see what happened from there.
She simply wasn’t a fan of the level of importance that was suddenly being put upon an actual wedding, or the manner in which certain Gallos seemed intent on controlling certain aspects of it.
She liked Claire—quite a bit, in fact, though every time Paris called Claire “Momma” Marissa felt just a little bitter inside—and she didn’t particularly mind Abigail either, but there had to be some sort of a compromise here, some give and take when it came to the details.
“If you want to get married at the courthouse, get married at the courthouse,” she said with a shrug, taking Chris’s idea and running with it since that seemed to be what Chris and Paris would prefer over anything else. Claire looked upset and a little betrayed, while Abigail sat and glanced around at everyone imperiously. “Pick a Friday, dress up nice and do it after class, take pictures, do that whole thing, and then after you can have a reception.”
Paris made a face that was equal parts strained and resigned.
“You might not think it’s such a big deal, but some people like celebrating those things,” Marissa told him, though she spent more time fiddling with her phone than looking at him, because every time she tried she saw this tiny little thing with round pink cheeks and a mop of fair curls on his head, face covered in chocolate cake mix or hands sticky with cookie batter.
And that wasn’t what she should be seeing, because he was eighteen and an adult and engaged.
“There’s not really any harm in it. Just think of it like a big party. You can hire a DJ, have an open bar…”
“Except everyone knows how old I am, which means I couldn’t drink anyway,” Paris complained, rolling his eyes.
“I didn’t say it was for you,” she countered.
She was fairly certain she’d need it herself.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 7:51 am
Rhiannon did her best to hide behind her book, but the little boy kept talking and talking, asking mundane questions that he didn’t really want the answers to since he didn’t bother waiting for one before moving onto his next set of questions. It was all rather dizzying and she was wondering if she should have come up with an excuse to hide upstairs in her room. Not that it was really her room since it wasn’t her house, or her world, but anything to keep from feeling like she was being talked to death. And it wasn’t as if she had anything against children, but she really just wanted to hide.
She continued to hide behind her book for a little while longer before getting a wonderful idea. She gracefully rose to her feet and with sure steps, made her way out of the room, in search of the closest bathroom. Surely no one would try and bother her there, right?
Well... if she could find the bathroom.
Except for the fact that Peter really didn’t care where she went.
“Ah, good idea,” he said with a nod as she got up and made her way out of the room. “Let’s hide before anyone else notices,” he added in a whisper as he followed at her heel. She wasn’t very talkative, but that was okay. Sometimes people just liked listening and there was nothing wrong with that. Most of the time people told him to shut up, but this girl was okay with him talking all he wanted. Therefor... she was now on his favorites list, along with Paris because even when he did harp at him for being reckless from time to time, he still let him talk all he wanted, and even helped him up that flag pole one time.
Wherever Rhiannon was going, he wasn’t entirely sure she knew what she wanted to do. She kept pausing at hall openings and glancing through open doors. Eventually she made it towards the kitchen, only to promptly spin around to frantically run away, only to practically trip over him.
“HEY!” he gasped, grabbing her arm to keep her from careening into a fancy looking side table with an equally fancy looking vase on it. Ugh, Nana and her “heirlooms”... a bunch of juck she picked up at a yardsale if anyone asked him!
“Tired of the party?” a much welcomed voice asked, and Peter almost let the girl go as he looked around her. Sitting at the long bar located on one side of the kitchen’s island were Peter’s father and grandfather, both with drinks in their hands and looking as though they were relaxing after thinking they’d just been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.
“You’ve met my dad and grandpa, right?” he asked, pulling Rhiannon with him and into the kitchen. “Yeah, Mom’s talking about dresses and Nana and Michael are arguing,” he informed the two, making it up to the seat of a stool with only a bit of difficulty.
She stared at the three of them with wide, frightened eyes, having not meant to run into anyone on her search of a bathroom... not that she actually had to go, but it seemed like a safe enough place... Now that she was thinking about it, it was probably safer to remain in the presence of someone who actually knew their way around the house. Otherwise she was sure she’d be lost forever.
After a few moments of hesitation, she eventually made her way over to the bar to sit next to Peter, her book placed on the island in front of her.
“Nothing unusual, then,” she heard Peter’s father say, and then heard the scraping of ceramic as he pushed a plate of crackers, cheese, and fruit her way. Ah, well... at least there was food.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 8:21 am
”I’d be up for an open bar,” Michael threw out, if only to annoy Marissa some more. She was trying so hard not to look over at him, but how long would it take for people to realize that she was purposefully avoiding him? And then what would they say?
“Jeez Paris, maybe Chris wants to wear a gown, ever think about that?” he teased, which gave him a sarcastic “ha ha” in response from his younger brother. The littlest one and Paris’s twin seemed to have wandered out, which was all good and well. It would probably save them a lot of headache from listening to everyone whine about dresses and invitations and wedding locations. It was all a little ridiculous if anyone asked him.
“We should have the wedding and reception in Belgium,” Nana threw out as if she’d just had a wonderful idea. “You know that old castle is never used. I would like to see it in its full glory before I die.”
“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” Michael scoffed, waving a dismissive hand at his grandmother. If anyone wondered where his mother got her ability to sweet talk her way into just about anything, all they had to do was listen to his grandmother... But the difference between his mother and Nana was that Nana needed to knock off the passive ‘woe-is-me’ comments sometimes.
If he was starting to get overwhelmed, he knew Paris must definitely be overwhelmed with everything. It wasn’t like they’d decided to discuss all this right now... it just sort of came up.
He leaned over to press a comforting kiss against his fiance’s hair, hoping he wasn’t going to freak out too much, before offering his own opinion. “What about the end of March?” he asked him, before turning to address his mother. “He doesn’t need a ballgown, and we don’t need anything big. We just want to be married. That’s all. And no, Nana... We’re not going to get married in Belgium. No!” he insisted as she opened her mouth to argue.
They had enough on their plates to worry about than trying to get everyone over to another country. They didn’t need any fancy cake or dresses or open bars... Maybe it was due to the fact that he wasn’t all that romantic, but... he thought he was pretty okay if Paris could tolerate him enough to agree to marry him, right?
“We can have a reception, but nothing over the top... Mom, seriously,” he added, shooting her a look. “If you and Marissa want to fight over who does what, then go for it. We don’t need gold-leafed wedding invitations, just plain ones will do if you have to have them. I don’t want a huge cake. If we need cake for more people, we can get plain cake that will be easier to serve,” he tried to compromise, hoping that would be enough to satisfy everyone. He knew he had a big family, but they didn’t need a giant cake.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 9:08 am
“I… I’m sorry, what castle?”
Paris was just a bit too invested in the conversation to notice that his cousin had gotten up to go somewhere else, or that Peter seemed to be following her around like a mini-shadow, or that the two had even escaped to the safety of the company of Beau and Grandpa Ed. He was also just a bit too overwhelmed by what he was hearing and the very thought of planning anything so large—because no matter what he or Chris said he had a feeling that the size of this party was going to be pretty big—that he wasn’t able to give the kiss to his hair as much attention as he might have if he and Chris had been alone and actually able to enjoy being so close to one another.
Instead, he stared at Nana and gaped a little bit. It was hard to tell if she was joking—but then no one had really countered her, so he was almost certain she wasn’t.
“The castle in Belgium, of course,” she replied easily, waving one of her hands as if it was nothing. “We bought it years and years ago. It was only four or five million.”
“Four or five… wait, what?”
He shouldn’t be so surprised by the number, he supposed, given how much Chris had spent on his engagement ring. Seeing as Chris wasn’t the only grandkid and there were apparently funds for all of them, there had to be a lot more floating around out there than Paris had initially assumed.
“It could use some renovation and restoration, of course, but it’d make such a lovely setting.”
“But I… no… no, no, no, no… Uh uh, no way… I am not… You can’t expect me to just… holy s**t…”
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 9:09 am
“Breathe, Baby,” Marissa said.
She was a bit more conscious of the fact that her niece and Peter had left the room, and she’d be tempted to join them and get out of this whole mess if she could trust Michael not to follow her and harass her somewhere else. One day he’d get the slap in the face he deserved, or have his a** handed to him in a lawsuit, and then she’d just sit back and laugh at his misfortune with a few well-placed “I told you so”s and “Serves you right”s.
On the other hand, she had a much easier time processing these unnecessary and enormous displays of wealth than Paris did, given that she’d lived in New York for a while and had heard plenty about the Gallos in the meantime. Even still, it almost annoyed her. Maybe it would amuse her under different circumstances, but they were still talking about her kid’s wedding. It was an uncomfortable topic to start with.
“We can look at some reception halls when we get home,” she offered. From Chris’s arguments, she assumed they’d both rather have the wedding in Destiny City anyway.
“The country club might be available,” Claire said, with some disappointment and a few lingering reservations lowering the volume of her normally animated voice.
“What about Howard Manor?” Abigail tried, still pushing for glamor and elegance despite the arguments she faced. “Do they still book weddings there?”
“You mean that fancy estate outside the city?” Paris squeaked.
“Oh, that would be lovely!” Claire exclaimed.
“And expensive,” Marissa reminded her.
“Yes, but not as expensive as having it in Boston!”
“Or in Belgium,” Abigail added. From the smug look on her face, Marissa could only assume Abigail enjoyed teasing people. She kept looking at Paris like his discomfort amused her.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 9:10 am
If Paris wasn’t so easily discomforted, she probably wouldn’t be as amused.
All the many voices and different arguments and varying suggestions were only making his headache worse. If he could actually think through it all, he might have been able to show his mother a bit of gratitude for her efforts to stem the tide of enthusiasm and steer Momma and Nana in a more appropriate direction. As it was, the very thought of how much planning they meant to put into this made him feel a little sick to his stomach.
“Can’t we just have the reception at your house?” he tried, looking at Momma with a bit of desperation.
“Everyone won’t fit in our house, Precious,” she replied. At least she was beginning to look a bit remorseful and sympathetic. She shifted in her chair like she wanted to get up and cuddle him. “I… we’ll make sure it’s not too big,” she finally relented.
Nana looked over at her as if she’d just been betrayed. “Claire…”
“Abby, look at them,” Claire all but whimpered. She shifted in her chair again like she’d start coddling them at any minute—scoop them up like babies and rain kisses on their faces. “I can handle the invitations,” she told them. “Just write out a list of people you want to invite, especially all your friends. I’ll worry about the family. But if… when we get home… if you could have an engagement photo taken… it would be nice to include with the invitations if you don’t want an official announcement, and I would really like wedding pictures, so if we could look into hiring a photographer…”
She probably had a point there, Paris thought.
When he actually had breathing room and time to think things through, he’d probably like some wedding pictures, too.
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