Page 4 of My Stepbrother's Wedding
I looked up at him with my best puppy dog eyes. “Can we go to Paris while we’re in Europe then?”
His face contorted in pain, like I’d just punched him in the man parts. I could almost see his inner miser duking it out with his loving, fatherly side. He took a much longer pause than I’d hoped for—not a good sign.
“Let me talk to Elizabeth about it.”
No! Full panic! Elizabeth would see right through my pretense. I had to act fast. I cooked up some more fake tears and buried my face in my hands.
“But it’s not fair,” I said. “We’re going to Malegonia for Will. Can’t we just make one stop for me?”
Dad chewed his lip and rubbed his stubby goatee. From the sympathetic look in his eyes, I could see I’d won him over, except he was probably too broke to cover a trip to Paris.
“I’d have to work a lot of overtime between now and then,” he said reluctantly.
“You’d do that for me?” I wrapped my arms around him.
Dad frowned and returned my embrace, obviously still conflicted. After a short pause, he sighed. “All right, Sugar Bear. We’ll go to Paris.”
I squeezed him harder, grateful the summer would no longer be a total loss. I had what I wanted, even if I needed a shower to wash away the disgrace.
***
A few days later, I lounged on the couch in the den, paging my way throughThe Raunchy Wrangler.My stepmother, however, was determined to annoy me. She paced back and forth from the den to the kitchen, wearing out the avocado-green carpet and blabbering on the phone to her sister. I tried to ignore her, as always, but overheard a few details about the trip.
“Weddings can last an entire week in Malegonia,” she said.
I almost shrieked out loud. An entire week! Neil Armstrong flew to the moon in less time. This was bordering on cruel and unusual punishment.
“Will says it might feel a bit overwhelming,” Elizabeth continued.
Great, I already felt like I was drowning.
“Either way, I’m sure it will be magical,” she said.
Magical? A million words in the English language and she usedmagicalto describe this lurking disaster. I fought back the pain in my stomach and tried in vain to focus on the delightfully trashy novel Karen had lent me. Elizabeth blabbed on about Malegonia and how it was known for machine-gun bunkers, goat herding, and fighting the Turks—all great reasons never to go there. She hung up the phone right before Dad came home with a bag of groceries. I watched through the doorway as he unloaded the food onto the kitchen table.
“When you said pizza, I thought you meant carry out,” Elizabeth said as Dad shoved a frozen Tombstone into the oven—the only thing he could cook besides toast.
“I figured we’d save a few bucks,” he said.
“I guess you’re right. Eating in wouldn’t kill us since we’re going to the ball game tomorrow.”
Dad shifted uncomfortably and took a nervous breath. “About that … I’m going to pick up a shift instead. We could use the extra cash.”
“But it’s Saturday tomorrow. You haven’t worked weekends in years.”
“I thought I’d surprise you with a few extra days in Paris.” He glanced at me, then back at Elizabeth.
“Honey, you’re so sweet, but we can’t afford that. We barely have the money for the wedding.”
“Yeah, well, since we’re doing something special for Will, I thought it’d be nice to spend some extra time with Wini also.”
My body went stiff, and I buried my nose in the book. Elizabeth was no fool. She’d figure out Paris was my idea. Still, the way Dad presented it, she was stuck in a tough spot. If she tried to cancel Paris, she’d end up the wicked stepmother who ruined summer.
Elizabeth made a discerning glance in my direction. “I wished we’d talked about this, Ralph. Paris will be expensive.”
“I’m sorry, Lizzy Bear. I thought it’d be a nice surprise.”
Dad was so loyal. I felt guilty. Not guilty enough to give up on Paris, of course.
