Page 92 of Personal Foul

She takes long enough to respond for me to know that the answer probably lies somewhere in the middle. But if I had to hazard a guess, it’s closer to the second option than the first. “Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me to do what I want regardless of what Mom and Dad think?”

“Yes,” she answers quietly.

“So why is it that you’re unable to do the same thing?”

Another sigh. “It’s not that I’m unable to do it. It’s just that there are other things to consider as well.”

“Such as?”

“Cameron. His family. What he wants.”

I suppose she has a point. “And have you asked him what he wants? If you two could have your dream wedding regardless of what anyone else’s family thinks, what would that look like?”

She’s silent, and I know that means she’s contemplating what I’ve said. I’m about to tell her that I need to go because I’m almost to Charity’s apartment when she finally answers. “I want a wedding. A real wedding. Not at the courthouse or an Elvis-themed chapel in Vegas. But I would like a small wedding. I want my friends and my family and the people who are important to us to be there. I’m hoping that if I give Mom what she wants with the engagement party, she’ll back off about the wedding.”

I let out a rueful chuckle. “And in your experience, how often does that kind of trade-off actually work out?”

Her chuckle matches mine. “I know. Good point. But hope springs eternal.”

“You could always put it to her as an exclusive event, and give her a specific number of people she’s allowed to invite. Find a venue that’s your dream venue that you and Cameron love and has limited space so you have a solid excuse to cap your guest list. Make a list of all of the people that are non-negotiable for you. Figure out how many additional seats are available, split those numbers between our family and Cameron’s family, and tell Mom that’s how many invites she’s allowed to give out.”

Tori hums thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea. She’ll balk at a small venue, but with Cameron backing me, we might be able to make that work. We’ve looked at so many already.”

“Were any of them on the small side and only rejected because of that?”

“Yes. There was this one place that’s a historic house with a gorgeous entryway and sweeping double staircases.” She goes on to describe the space that has both indoor and outdoor options to host an event. The longer she talks about it, the more excited she gets, and the more I know that’s the space she really wants.

“So as soon as we get off the phone, I want you to call Cameron, tell him that’s the place you want to get married, and get him on board. Then call the venue and book your date. Tell Mom after it’s a done deal. If you’ve already put down a nonrefundable deposit, she can’t as easily veto you.”

“Oooh, good point. Look at you. You’ve got that conniving lawyer mind working already.”

“Thanks? That doesn’t really sound like a compliment, though.”

“In this case, it absolutely is. Thanks for your help, little brother. I’ll see you tonight. And I’ll let you know how things go.”

I’ve been parked in front of Charity’s apartment for the last few minutes, so I cut the engine and climb out as soon as I hang up with my sister. It doesn’t take long to load Charity’s things in the car, including her new dress that we picked up yesterday.

* * *

We make it to my parents’ house in just under seven hours. We stopped for dinner along the way, opting for a sit-down restaurant instead of a drive-through even though it took a lot more time. While I’ve been putting on a confident front for Charity and telling her that everything will be just fine, part of me is worried about how this weekend will go for her.

The fact that I haven’t told my parents I’m bringing Charity is at the forefront of my worries. What will they do when they realize who she is?

My best bet is to keep Charity’s last name under wraps and hope they don’t recognize her from the pictures of her family that have been in the papers. And if they do recognize her, I’m hoping their sense of decorum will outweigh any displeasure I know they’ll feel.

And even though I know my family would’ve preferred for Charity and me to arrive earlier in the day, getting here late, right before everyone is likely to be heading to bed, is a calculated move. If we’re busy unloading and making quick introductions, there’s less time for them to ask Charity personal questions.

Eventually, probably before the end of the weekend, I know they’ll figure it out. And they’ll be angry. The stink of her father’s—alleged—crimes will linger for many years, especially around here. And we all know that the sins of the fathers are most definitely laid upon the children. There’s no way that Charity will be able to successfully distance herself from that for a long time, if ever.

And in the political arena, the sins of the children are also laid upon the father. So any misstep on my part will reflect on my parents.

And I know they’ll definitely see my connection to Charity as a misstep. I know exactly what they’ll say when they figure it out.

Maybe I should’ve just told Victoria that I couldn’t find a date and I’d be coming by myself. Or that my girlfriend had to work and couldn’t get out of it. Or any number of other excuses. Of course, if I’d gone with the girlfriend-has-to-work excuse, I’d be subject to a weekend-long inquisition all about said girlfriend. And then I’d either have to completely lie about who she is or tell them the truth and still risk screwing everything up.

Basically there’s no way to get out of this without everything blowing up in my face. So bringing Charity, and just keeping her last name out of the conversation, is actually the safest choice for everyone.

Well, everyone except maybe Charity.

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